Category Archives: Political Philosophy

Left vs. Right: The History of a Paradigm

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Among the political terms loaded with assumption, often little understanding and certainly far less historical context are the terms that follow:

Left Wing and Right Wing.

And yet, our talking heads in the media and the elites in our government offices throw the terms around with impunity. And the assumptions that accompany these sweeping labels can often create all sorts of false presumptions—and sometimes accusations—deliberately earmarked along with the accurate ones. So it seems to me that a bit of historical clarification—as is often the case—can offer a bit more insight into the meaning of the terms today.

The terms “left” and “right” as political designations originated during one of the most violent preludes to modern revolution: the French Revolution. After the Third Estate—representing the majority of the French population—broke away from the representatives of the nobility and the clergy and named themselves the National Assembly of France, they quickly began to divide on how far to take their new revolution. Having passed a French Constitution severely limiting the king’s power and establishing state control over the Church in France, those who were generally content with the extent of their significant changes began to sit on the right side of the legislative chamber. But even so, a more radical group emerged. These were the Jacobins and their allies, and these tended to sit together on the left side of the chamber. These Jacobins would soon dominate the Revolution, leading it to the execution of the king, an attempt to obliterate Christianity in France, and a complete mass-murder of political prisoners at the hands of the guillotine in the infamous Reign of Terror.[1]

And thus emerged the “Left” and the “Right.” It is interesting that even in the infancy of these pervasive terms, both the Left and Right were radical. Though less radical than their Jacobin colleagues across the chamber, even the Right Wing of the National Assembly could hardly be considered conservative, as they, too, had been responsible for tearing down the old institutional framework of aristocratic France. State control of the Church, accomplished with the Civil Constitution of the Clergy in 1791? An official ban on all aristocratic titles, and a limitation of the power of monarch to nothing more than a rubber-stamp on legislation (without even full veto power)? Hardly much conserving the old order there, and all supported by the so-called Right Wing.[2]

Soon enough, the terms Left and Right were adopted across the Western world, and of course, today are used to describe governments and officials around the world.  

Our modern understanding of the terms was heavily influenced by Karl Marx, as many who use the designation “Left-Wing” today refer to those who support some form of socialism, whether in a classical (government ownership of factories, national resources) or a modern welfare state sense. The underlying assumption, of course, is that Left-Wingers favor egalitarianism and equality, whether socially, economically, politically, et cetera. In contrast, then, sometimes merited and sometimes not, Right-Wingers are perceived as favoring an understanding of society that at least accepts, and at most advocates for, some inequality. As an editorial aside, I must note that most self-proclaimed Right-Wingers will adamantly argue for equality of opportunity, regardless of the outcomes. But the contrast with the Left-Wingers is their belief that different outcomes will likely result, and this nearly always the result of unequal personalities, levels of intelligence, physical abilities, motivation and so forth. Very few (but not all) modern Right-Wingers will deny any basic human equality in rights or opportunities.

But back to history.

It is quite clear that the terms “Left” and “Right” wing are affected—whether accurately or not—by some significant historical episodes. Far more well-known than the French Revolution roots of the terms are the influence of the major powers of the 1920s and 1930s. Thus it is that the Nazis are considered Right-Wing and the communists under Lenin to be Left-Wing. But the difference here is more hyperbolic and more centered around “teams” than it is around substantive policy differences (both favored various extents of socialism and state control over property and the economy). Let’s explore this further.

For his part, Karl Marx believed that history is determined—driven—by the conflict of two major classes of people: the owners and non-owners (bourgeoisie and proletariats). His ultimate belief was that as a result of Capitalism, the proletariats (primarily, the factory workers) would arise, dismantle the entire capitalist structure through the creation of a “Dictatorship of the Proletariat,” and then dissolve all private ownership of the means of production (everything that goes into making things). All such resources would be shared in common: communism.[3] Vladimir Lenin thought human actors (the Bolsheviks, in his case) could speed this process along. The ultimate goal: absolute egalitarianism and no property ownership (except for personal items). If this forms the extreme left end of the “Left-Right-Wing” continuum, then anyone who leans toward egalitarianism, especially as enforced by state mechanisms, is considered “Left-Wing.”

With the rise of the Bolsheviks in Russia and the pursuit of this private-property free world, political and intellectual figures throughout Europe grew increasingly worried. Those who did so were increasingly considered Right-Wing. That such a small group of socialists (registered Bolsheviks were about 0.01% of the Russian population in 1917) could take over one of the largest economies in the world was understandably alarming.

One important note about the Left-Wing ideology emerging with the Bolsheviks in Russia was its emphasis on internationalism. By this, we mean that they were not nationalist, but rather saw communism as the ultimate and universal goal of all proletariat workers. They believed in the ultimate dissolution of political borders. For this reason, the nationalist leaders of the 1920s—Benito Mussolini, Adolph Hitler, Francisco Franco, and many others—were first and foremost opposed to Bolshevism.

And with this, their affiliation with the Right-Wing began. It was already the case that some measure of “conservatism” was being affiliated with the term “Right-Wing” in western countries, and when Mussolini and Hitler arrived on the scenes in the 1920s, some conservatives in England and France were sympathetic with their desire for a strong national unity and their fear of the totalitarian Bolsheviks. So in turn, they developed their own totalitarian regimes with a special and deliberate emphasis on culture and race as a means of creating powerful nationalistic movements. The race and cultural distinctions replaced the class distinctions of the Bolsheviks. (True conservatives in Germany during Hitler’s rise to power, naturally, were aghast at his radical re-envisioning of society. While Hitler and other fascists appealed to culture and history, they were by no means conservative.)

This is a key reason why, even today, nationalism is considered to be Right-Wing, and to many, is the defining feature of the Right (though not all agree on this point). (Ironically, the Jacobins, the original “leftists,” were some of the first most radical nationalists in history. Learn more here.) Certainly, with this designation, the umbrella of Right Wing is broad enough to encompass everyone from general conservatives who believe in the small-government liberalism (libertarianism) of the American Founders, to Americans who fit into various stereotypes of patriots, to advocates of a powerful government to enforce “conservative values,” to the radical White Supremacists, such as the KKK and other emergent groups. And in contrast, the Left Wing can embody anyone from Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez to college students who want to protest speakers like Jordan Peterson, to Antifa, the violent self-proclaimed anti-fascist organization. (If you find yourself arguing with me that many patriots are also Left-Wing, you are starting to get the point of this article.)

The point here is that although there are some very rough contours of definition lending themselves to the two sides (without any real uniformity), they are often more defined by their opposition to the other side.

But with such broad, vague and historically ambiguous designations, these terms can begin to mean a lot of different things to those who use them, and often affiliate people with very different worldviews and political positions—for better or for worse.

Often times, however, there are a surprising number of similarities by extreme groups on either “side.”

Let’s look at the case of the fascist Nazis and the communist Bolsheviks as a case in point. Both were radical progressives with a propensity to use violence and force for the actualization of their visions. Progressivism is a worldview that primarily believes that the coercive power of the state and social forces can improve human nature itself. In this sense, the French Revolution was a progressive revolution, as much as the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia and the Nazi rise to power in Germany.

Although both groups anchored their progressive visions on different ultimate goals, both were highly collectivist in the sense that there was an obvious “good” side and an obvious “bad” side. The good had to be advanced and the bad eradicated, whether through true conversion, fear or extermination. Lenin wrote that people have to smash the resistance of the bourgeoisie class; they must “sweep away the old” and create “the new.” Even more clearly, a high-ranking officer in Lenin’s secret police explained it this way:

We are not carrying out a war against individuals. We are exterminating the bourgeoisie as a class. We are not looking for evidence or witnesses to reveal deeds or words against the Soviet power. The first question we ask is—to what class does he belong, what are his origins, upbringing, education or profession? These questions define the fate of the accused. This is the essence of the Red Terror.

For Hitler and the Nazis, the enemy was not a class, but anyone less than the most advanced biological types of peoples and races. They sought to help a Darwinist view of biology along by advancing the German race. As the Marxist German theorizer Ludwig Woltmann wrote, “The German race has been selected to dominate the earth.” The Nazis fully believed that they were meant to fulfill the Darwinist arguments of Frederick Nietzsche, who wrote that “The extinction of many types of peoples is just as desirable as any form of reproduction” and that “the tendency must be towards the rendering extinct of the wretched, the deformed, the degenerate.”

Both Hitler and Lenin, and those who shared their visions, both believed in the progressive idea that human nature could be changed. Lenin’s colleague Leon Trotsky wrote:

Man will make it his purpose to master his own feelings, to raise his instincts to the heights of consciousness, to make them transparent, to extend the wire of his will into hidden recesses, and thereby to raise himself to a new plane, to create a higher social biological type, or, if you please, a superhuman.

Hitler, also, expressed a similar vision, though with different means, calling his “National Socialism … more even than a religion: it is the will to create mankind anew.”

Both the “Right-Wing” Nazis and the “Left-Wing” Bolsheviks were totalitarian visionaries. Both favored powerful states (governments) with extensive power for social engineering. And both would be responsible for millions upon millions of deaths.

In modern context, obviously the terms are seldom used in the extreme cases as this. But these historical episodes clearly influence the way that we think about these terms. Opponents of the Left Wing will often use the term among their peers as a way to invoke fear of the extremes of Leftism. Conversely, opponents of the Right Wing will often use the term among their peers as a way to invoke fear of Right-Wing Extremism.

Does this mean there is no merit in these terms? I suppose, in a strict scholarly sense, there can be some very helpful discussion formed around them, and depending on how narrowly they are defined, they can be used semi-accurately. But I am hard pressed to find much helpful about them as they are used hyperbolically without contextual discussion, both by supporters and opponents of each side. To call another person Leftist can mean a whole host of things, and so it is for those who call others Right-Wing. Just as the history of these designations hardly presented two consistently pure ideological sides, so it is the same today.

[1] I have written a more extensive history of the French Revolution as a part of my book project, The Tale of Two Gospels. Click here to access the entire chapter on the French Revolution for free.

[2] It is not my goal to comment on the desirability of these measures, but simply to explain the history.

[3] To note, Marx used the words “communism” and “socialism” interchangeably.

Democracy: A Meaningless, Dangerous Word

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“Democracy.”

The word that has come to mean anything those who use it want it to mean.

“We must spread democracy to the world.”

“How can we still accept [pick your issue] in a democratic society?”

“That’s [pick your political or social vice] a violation of our democratic principles!”

And thus democracy becomes the epitomizing word describing any given desirable social or political outcome. Don’t like a Supreme Court decision? Democracy is at stake. Love a Supreme Court decision? They’re upholding democratic principles!

In reality, the word democracy has become meaningless in its overbroad application.

Its meaninglessness is a symptom—and thus a helpful teaching tool—of a far more important reality: that the pursuit of “democracy” is not what many people who use it really want.

Let me explain.

First, let’s actually visit the definition of democracy. From the Greek, we all recall from grade school, it means “rule of the many.” In its purest form, it is majority rule, more accurately defined as majority dictatorship. In theory, then, if 51% of voters decide to enslave the other 49%, then it is their prerogative. After all, it was a majority decision. Such extreme implications aside or even mitigated for, majority rule still implies some measure of coercion by the majority of those who favor a particular law, program, et cetera.

Many people—particularly progressives— favor that definition of the word when it suits their desired outcomes, though often it does not. So if that definition will not do, they would use the word “democracy” in a way that supports a particular social agenda. If evidence or even a strict vote demonstrates that the majority does not favor a particular vision or social outcome, then the word democracy must abandon its own definition and adopt something much different. Democracy, then, becomes a term used to defend a goal, whether that goal favors a majority or a minority.

It is used to defend either dictatorship of the majority or dictatorship of the minority.

To a classical liberal or a libertarian who favors the protection of individual liberty, pure democracy has historically proven to be a threat. For example, the classical liberal movement of the early 1800s in the German Confederation, eager to see the expansion of suffrage undo the autocratic power of the government, soon found that it spurred on the first major welfare state and the accompanying taxation as people began to vote for themselves privileges at the expense of others.

To the progressive who favors some particular social goal or outcome, and coercion must guide society to that goal or outcome, democracy is simply the word used to justify the means. So long as “the majority” favors their vision (even if this could be always accurately assessed) they have no problem with the use of force to coerce the “minority” to act in accordance with that vision.

This is the dictatorship of the majority.

But almost never is the true democratic principle of majority rule what matters to them.  The progressives, masters at the manipulation of language (think of political correctness), use the word democracy to mean “equality”—usually forced, under threat of law or lawsuit. Make sure that the cake-baker suffers for the injustice of his discrimination to bake the cake for the gay wedding, they cry, lest he threaten “democracy.” For the progressive, their vision is the one that must be forced onto society because it is whatever society really needs, they claim, and in that, is “democratic.”

This is dictatorship of the progressive vision—dictatorship of the minority.

And both applications–dictatorship of the majority and dictatorship of the minority–are equally dangerous to individual liberty and to those whose views are not in line with whoever holds the banner of the state’s authority.

The American “Revolution” Wasn’t A Revolution…

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That’s right. It wasn’t.

Because “conservative revolution” is an oxymoron. See what I mean at the video I made on the real history of the American Revolution:

But this is just a primer! There is so much about the whole conflict that we were never taught in school or college! The course, “The American Revolution: A Constitutional Conflict” at Tom Woods’ Liberty Classroom is the most thorough course on what you never learned.

If you haven’t subscribed for my emails, you really should. I send out a lot of bonus content that way in the emails, as well as the bonuses you receive just for subscribing, as you can see in the subscription box to the right of this page.

Remember, if you subscribe, you also get special discount codes for Liberty Classroom. And today, July 4, 2018, ONLY, there is a coupon code for $150 off the Master Membership, so get over and subscribe, and you will automatically receive your special discount codes!

 

Just War Theory

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Among conservatives and liberals alike, we love war. Well, actually, we love winning war. War heroes are praised with celebrity. Great victories are glorified in textbooks. Sweeping successes in combat are taught as inspirational life lessons. The great Roman victories over Hannibal delight our imagination. The surprising and total British triumph over Napoleon at Waterloo is studied with captivating inspiration. And many of us still enjoy re-watching the victory of D-Day in films like Saving Private Ryan as we cheer on our team.

In many ways, the love of military victory is comparable to our love of the sports team dominating the field. It is a powerful element of human psyche to cheer for our team, whether it’s the soccer team our boys are on, our high school basketball team, our college football team, or the United States military (I suggest some of the potential dangers of such modes of thinking in this post). We love the crushing defeat of our enemies.

And that is not to say that all these battles do not merit our study or inspiration. I am simply demonstrating the powerful effect that military prowess and victory has on our psyche.

Sometimes (and often), this effect results in cheers for acts that are less than virtuous, to speak in understatement, or downright deplorable. Or in the least, we make excuses when our side does it. For example, there is no shortage of moral indignation against the German blitz of London, which, over fifty-seven days, left 30,000 dead. But we shrug a bit at the American fire-bombing of the German city of Dresden, an entirely non-military city, which killed 25,000 in a single night, or the American bombing of Tokyo on March 9, 1945, which killed 80-100,000 civilians. “Well, those were necessary,” comes the ready excuse.

Of course, anything is excused by those who take part in war. It has always been so. The British hunger blockade of Germany in World War I led to the starvation of anywhere from 250,000 to 600,000 German civilians. And yet, Woodrow Wilson refused the German plea to pressure the British to end the blockade, which was a violation of international rules of war and had prompted the merciless German u-boat attacks on enemy and neutral vessels.

Okay, enough of all this introductory rambling, lest I go on forever. Now, to the point: Just War Theory.

Many will simply dismiss Just War Theory as impractical or illogical. But why? If rejected, what are the implications? I raise these questions first so that as you read through the tenets of Just War Theory, you might consider the moral or ethical implications of deciding on a less “rigid” justification for war or action in war.

First, a very brief history of Just War Theory. Originally developed under Saint Augustine, the formalization of the theory was completed officially in Saint Thomas Aquinas’ comprehensive volume, Summa Theologica (1485). Drawing on various elements of Augustine’s theological interpretations, bits and pieces of Roman Law (ironically), and his own study of Scripture and reason, Aquinas lays out a list of conditions for both jus ad bellum – what constitutes a just war – and jus in bello – what constitutes just action in the act of war. (Note that different sources will offer slightly different criteria, but they are all holistically similar.)

Jus ad bellum … What constitutes a just cause for war?

  1. Last Resort: A war may only be waged after all peaceful options have been considered, tried and exhausted.
  2. Legitimate Authority: War may only be waged by a legitimate authority or government.
  3. Just Cause: War must be waged for a just cause, which according to Just War Theory, is a response to wrongs suffered. In other words, war must be waged in self-defense, not offense. This, of course, rules out preemptive war.
  4. Probability of Success: War must be waged only if, upon reasonable observation, there is a strong likelihood of success.

Jus in bello … What constitutes just action in war?

  1. Right Intention: Related very much to #3: War must be fought with the primary objective of reestablishing peace with the least amount of force necessary. Once peace is re-established, further aggressive action against the initial aggressor is not allowed.
  2. Proportionality: The violence used in war must be directly proportional to casualties suffered. For example, if one nation is attached, retaliation must not exceed the extent of the original aggression. Only the amount of force absolutely necessary may be used.
  3. Civilian Casualties: All efforts must be taken to avoid civilian deaths, and these deaths must be absolutely unavoidable and accidental when pursuing all other criteria of Just War Theory. Certainly, no direct targeting of civilians is justified.

Of course, many of you reading this will think this a delightful fantasy of some other world. After all, following such criteria would rule out nearly every war engaged in by the United States for the violation of one item or another. Some of them are still rather subjective. Was there a strong likelihood of success when the 13 American colonies rebelled in 1776? Probably not. What constitutes a legitimate authority? This, of course, is extremely open to debate.

Nevertheless, the criteria for Just War ought to be considered and pondered. If you decide that any of these criteria ought to be relaxed or removed from the list, then why? As I ask my students, if this list does not satisfy, then what list would propose and how would you justify it? And I urge caution with this. For example, was the fire-bombing of Dresden, a deliberate targeting of civilians (not to mention Tokyo, Hiroshima or Nagasaki), justified because our team did it? If not, and if excuses are made for our military, then what justifies different standards for us versus them? Are there limits in warfare? Do the ends justify the means?

In a culture that tends to delight in crushing military victories (after all, what cultures don’t?) and a nation engaged in nearly continuous warfare of one sort or another for decades, should we not at least consider the Just War Theory and what the implications of not following such a theory might be? Sadly, we often just take the word of those who go to war (and, I might add, profit from it) that war is necessary. Is it so unreasonable to suggest that we might give such decisions a great deal of scrutiny before accepting them all as justified?

Thumbnail image credit goes to thoughtco.com.

Catalonia & Secession

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As the Catalan pursuit of independence crisis heats up and edges ever closer toward significant violence in that pursuit, it seems a prime time to share some thoughts on secession.

To premise, I have a strong patriotic streak for both my countries–the United States and Peru. And so that may premise (and hopefully alleviate opposition to) what many people might find radical. Not that I care primarily about alleviating strong opposition; I expect to come across plenty of it in this and other posts.

But nevertheless, here are five key points I want to point out in the discussion of Catalan secession/independence. As usual, I am not here on a soap box, but rather hope to provoke thought.

First, the notion that we are one nation, rather than a collection of nations, wasn’t the original vision of the United States held by the Founders (with perhaps a few exceptions), and yet I don’t think anyone would accuse them of lack of patriotism. It’s just that their patriotism lie first with their country (state) (or perhaps even moreso with their local communities) and then with the federal union of their states, and last of all with Great Britain, even though nearly 1/3rd of all Americans were still quite patriotic to Great Britain and opposed secession. (That means fewer Americans were for secession from GB, and yet even more–apparently–prepared to fight, die and kill to gain it, than those in Catalonia.)

Second, true and historical conservatism emphasizes the natural, organic and (traditionally, as it were) Biblical concepts of loyalty and relationship. Whereas political boundaries are fundamentally arbitrary (from a human standpoint), as the case in Spain points out (the Catalans don’t even speak Spanish as their primary language), the true and valuable relationship and groups and bonds have nothing to do with political boundaries. The Father of Conservatism and English politician, Edmund Burke (who I discuss here), supported the American Revolution because he believed they were fighting to preserve their political, legal and economic traditions of localism and self-government. If California seceded, my relationship with people in California (where most of my extended family lives) remains unchanged (it may take a few more steps to visit them, but then, should we have a one-world government so I can more easily visit my family members who live all over the world?) For myself, per Philippians 4, I am a citizen of heaven, loyal first to the Lord (at least, that is my striving), then my family, my local church, my associations (ie, the school where I teach), and the global church. Only after those come my town, state, and country. That’s a large part of what it meant originally to be conservative. True, meaningful and genuine relationship does not change based on where we draw a political boundary.

Third, large centralized states are the antithesis to liberty. Take the one-world government example. The more distant the seat of power and the larger the jurisdiction, the less important an impact the local regions and the people in them hold. Hitler hated states rights, and writes openly so in Mein Kampf, because he understood that he could not achieve his agenda if he did not have absolute and total control. Germany had been a federation of sovereign nations until unification in 1870-1, but even then the German states still had numerous elements of sovereignty that Hitler sought to dissolve entirely. Consider the contrast between the words of British Politician Lord Acton and German Nazi Leader Adolph Hitler.

“I saw in States’ rights the only availing check upon the absolutism of the sovereign will…. ” – Lord Acton

Nearly 60 years later, Hitler would write:

“[The Nazis] would totally eliminate states’ rights altogether: Since for us the state as such is only a form, but the essential is its content, the nation, the people, it is clear that everything else must be subordinated to its sovereign interests.” – Adolph Hitler

In addition to the last point, smaller political jurisdictions are more prone to facilitate liberty for the same reason Hitler hated them. Don’t like the system here? Move over there. That’s obviously easier said than done (though the smaller the units, the easier it is), but it’s certainly easier than escaping the oppression of a distant government, such as the Tibetans in China.

Fourth, there is no need for a change in political boundaries to have a long-term negative effect on economics, so long as people can trade freely across political lines. You see this clearly in the European Union, the Pacific Free Trade Zone, et cetera. If Catalonia secedes, for example, there would be no natural reason (though there could be artificial ones) that they couldn’t continue to trade with Spain and the rest of Europe, in or out of the EU. The same goes, in theory, for Great Britain with regard to Brexit, though the EU may impose various tariffs as a way to “punish” them. There will be temporary economic decisions to be made that might unsettle the waters for a bit, but is that enough justification to force a people–against their will–to remain within a certain political boundary? The same argument could be made of the American Revolutionaries, who openly declared they would go to war for what the Catalan people have so far tried to achieve through peaceful referendum (the violence there a tragic result, but not intent, yet). If California seceded and no artificial barriers were imposed, resources would flow across the border just as before and we would still get much of our produce from California, just like we do from Mexico, Guatemala, Chile, et cetera.

Fifth, where do we place the burden of proof? One social media comment raised an interesting point: our perspective tends to change when we consider our own country.  This person made the point that it’s easy to sympathize with the Catalan people, but reject any such notions shared by our neighbors. “I favor Catalan independence, but heaven forbid Texan independence.” But how do we justify he discrepancy? If the U.N. suddenly becomes more powerful and declares all countries involved to be the U.N. Nation, for example, does the burden of proof suddenly fall on the U.S. to demonstrate overwhelmingly why it has a right to secede? Do you assume that the central government always has a right to maintain the peoples within its borders unless they can either fight for or 100% prove “why” they should be independent? Is there any objective measure that can be used to say, “this group has the right to secede and this group doesn’t”? Where do you draw the line? On economic grounds? On grounds of patriotism? At what point does the larger political unit no longer get to subordinate the smaller to its control? Can we both favor Kurdish secession because of the oppression they have experienced under the Iraqi Arabs and at the same time oppose Catalan secession, or Californian secession, because we don’t think they have a good enough reason? Or is any form of disallowing political secession a form of oppression?

Thumbnail photo credit: bbc.com

A Logical System of Justice?

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My 10th grade class, which studies the historical narrative from circa 1600 to 1865 with a focus on Western Civilization (Europe and the Americas), has been spending some time studying the history of Anglo-British law as it developed through the Middle Ages and up through the Glorious Revolution, forming much of what was called English Common Law. I’ve already discussed some of this history briefly in an earlier post.

And in the course of our learning, I teach them that the U.S. judicial system of not based on a system of reparation. (And to note, it was not entirely so in Great Britain, either, as time went on. British royalty increasingly was quite prone to assume that they were the source of law, and the highest levels of the English judicial system were originally appointed by the king and carried his mandate. And when many of the colonists rebelled in 1765-1783, many were doing so on the basis that the English authorities were abandoning their traditional principles. And if you subscribe to my email, my upcoming email begins with an example of a jury trial condemning an English Catholic to death for refusing to admit that the king was the head of the church.)

Understandably, they are surprised. Nobody has presented law in this way before, and it seems so straight-forward to them.

I’ve been teaching them about the difference between negativism and positivism. Negativism (from which are derived negative rights, as I discuss in this post) is the idea that law comes before and outside of government. The opposite is positivism, which says law comes from government … if it is legislated to be wrong (or right), then it is wrong (or right). Negativism says it is wrong to steal, regardless of what the government says. Positivism says it is wrong to steal because the government says it is wrong.

The implication? In the development of English law through the Middle Ages onward, most law, accordingly, was developed through litigation (the legal process) instead of legislation (the law-making process) as negativism was the presumption. If someone was robbed, they could be provided compensation even without a law saying that stealing was wrong. And the guilty party was forced to pay reparations.

And this is where my students can see something obvious. If negativism is the presumption, then the person wronged has to be compensated. If I steal my neighbor’s truck, then I owe him…a truck. That’s called reparation. If I sell that truck and then don’t have money for a new one, then I make reparation by working until my wages have fully compensated my neighbor.

Seems like a logical approach to justice, right? Even the judicial system of the Mosaic Law given to the Hebrews as they left Egypt was built almost entirely on reparations. The person harmed was to be repaid by the guilty party.

That’s not what we have in the United States.

In the United States legal code, the government is essentially always the party that is wronged. It is the government that receives “reparation”.

If I am guilty of extortion, the U.S. system of justice requires that I pay the government a fine and spend time in prison, based on its own assessment of the crime, rather than the extent of the harm. And that money doesn’t go to my neighbor. It goes to the government. The law doesn’t require reparation to the party harmed (who will usually only get compensated if they had the right insurance), as assumed by negativism. Rather, it  treats the government like the harmed party, based on an assumption of positivism.

And yes, there are exceptions. People can file suit for reparation of damages. Unfortunately, this is inaccessible for most people given how high legal and lawyer fees are. But why are fees so high? Because the convoluted system of laws that requires an army of lawyers and their aids to navigate through.

The U.S. legal system as it is today is based on positivism. The laws are not based on negativism, based on natural rights outside of government. If the government wants to take one person’s property and give it to another because thinks the second person would make “better” use of it, then they can. The Supreme Court said so in Kelo v. City of New London (2005).

The main question I want to be drawn from this is: where do laws come from? Do you believe in negativism, which assumes a standard of right and wrong outside of government? Or do you believe in positivism, which says the government is the standard of right and wrong? And what are the implications for the system of justice?

Something to think about.

The History of Conservatism, Liberalism & Libertarianism (Part 6 – Conservatism, Liberalism & Nationalism in Mainland Europe)

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Unlike Great Britain or the United States, mainland European countries faced an array of unique issues, giving the ideas of conservatism and liberalism their own unique colors and political ramifications, similar in some ways to that of the island just off their northwest coast or the fledgling thirteen states across the Atlantic, but also very different in many other ways.

But first, make sure you’re caught up:

We’ll come back to both the United States and Great Britain in the upcoming posts, but a neglected Europe certainly deserves a bit of our attention. This is especially true because of the unique way that movements there will ultimately have global impact.

What Was Going on in Europe?

Sadly, many of our teachers overlooked (or breezed through) European politics from the French Revolution to World War I. So a solid historical review of the narrative seems in order.

As Medieval Europe ebbed into the early modern period, many nations across Europe experienced a great deal of centralization of power. Certainly this was true of France, Spain and England, major players on the world stage for centuries. Germany and Italy would take longer to unify, and those people groups of modern Eastern Europe were, by and large, under the control of various other powers, such as Russia, Austria or the Ottoman Turks.

In England, as we’ve already explored, the autocratic power of the monarch had long since been whittled away as constitutionalism – the idea that a system of law supersedes the king and government – became more secure. Quite the opposite in France. Various measures used by the Cardinal Richelieu in the early 1600s help to launch King Louis XIV, nicknamed the “Sun King,” into a position of absolute power, a position envied by King Charles I in England (who was executed by Parliament in 1649, as discussed in part 3).

Maximilien Robespierre (1754-1793)

Two kings later in France, young King Louis XVI faced the guillotine as the line of monarchs was (temporarily) ended during the French Revolution, which began in 1789. It is important to note that the French Revolution did, in fact, have roots in Enlightenment thought, at least parts of it. What started as both a manifestation of the aggrieved (and some nearly starving) poor and middle class of Paris and the more liberal rhetoric of lawyers like Maximilien Robespierre (who at first called for free press and free speech and other liberal goals) soon became an all-out bloodbath. The atrocities of the French Revolution and the thousands murdered cannot be attributed simply to a sort of “mob-mentality,” though certainly the terror it induced was a self-feeding fire. But there was a deeper worldview behind the revolution that sought the entire remaking of society and even of human nature.1 What that remaking was to be fell to the interpretation of whoever was in power. Even Robespierre soon abandoned his liberal beginnings and called for an all-out slaughter of anyone who did not show ready and active support of the “new society” that the French Revolutionaries sought to create. In place of a subject whose existence was to meet the demands of the king was now a citoyen (citizen) whose existence was to promote the “virtue” of the new civic society. Individual dignity or independence had little or no place in either system.

I dedicate more description to the French Revolution, as this will be important to understand both now and when we get to Progressivism.

In the wake of the revolution, Napoleon Bonaparte was able to work his way to the top (as consul) after military campaigns in Italy and Egypt. He would eventually declare himself emperor of the French Empire that he would rapidly expand across Europe, nearly reaching Moscow in 1812 before suffering a serious defeat in his trans-European conquests.

The Congress of Vienna by August Friedrich Andreas

Napoleon’s dominance would radically change Europe, and when European leaders met in 1814 at what has become called the Congress of Vienna, they would seek to undo much of his changes. But there was only so much they could do. Napoleon’s codes of law had replaced many of the old legal codes handed down from medieval Europe, land arrangements within the many Germanic kingdoms (there were around 300) had been rearranged, and dynasties had been overturned.

The Congress of Vienna was more of a series of informal meetings between diplomats and leaders of the five major powers of Europe than it was a formal assembly. The powers? Great Britain, France, Prussia, Austria and Russia. During these meetings, these leaders embraced distinctly conservative goals: the restoration of old monarchies overthrown by Napoleon, the return to old borders (with some changes), and the restoration of the old order in other various respects. To be sure, there were innovations, such as agreements to open up rivers for universal use, but by and large, the Vienna meetings were notably conservative.

And this takes us to our topical discussion.

Europe after the Congress of Vienna, 1815 (Photo credit to Britannica.com)

Conservatism in Mainland Europe

Stick with me for a moment as we revisit England. Recall that Edmund Burke (discussed in part 3), Whig and the Father of Modern Conservatism, had aptly predicted the terrors of the French Revolution. His fear of and resistance to any such radical revolutions sparking like events in England was the predictable result of his conservative views.

In mainland Europe, conservative was defined in part by the desire to “conserve” the old order and avoid such drastic revolutions. The difference here was, however, that in England, constitutionalism and natural law traditions had been foundational in England for so long that retention and expansion of these concepts was fundamentally a part of British conservatism. In mainland Europe, conservatives were primarily concerned with the retention of the monarchical dynasties and the church structure and authority. Both of these institutions, they believed, were divinely sanctified by God.

Joseph de Maistre (1753-1821)

Joseph de Maistre from Piedmont-Sardinia (a kingdom in the north part of what is today Italy), a key continental conservative thinker, saw the French Revolution as God’s judgment for their embrace of Enlightenment ideas. As more of an anti-Enlightenment ideologue, Maistre argued that because governments and the church are both divinely ordained, neither can nor need be justified through rationalization or logic; people must be submissive and not question either. On a practical level, he and many other conservatives called for the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy in France—the family of the executed King Louis XVI.

This conservative bent dominated the Congress of Vienna, as I already mentioned. Austrian foreign minister Klemens von Metternich, a major diplomatic player until 18482, also played a pivotal role in the restoration of old dynasties. In addition to the restoration of the Bourbon family to the throne of France, he and the diplomats in Vienna ensured that the Hapsburgs remained on the throne of Austria, and that France remained a major player in the European theater, despite war between Austria and France virtually from 1792 to 1814.

Klemens von Metternich (1773-1859)

This latter point was fundamental to conservatism, as well, because it helped maintain order and stability. Conservatives would do what they could to ensure balance between the five major powers of Europe in hopes of avowing conflict and the potential revolutions that could be sparked in such conflicts. To this end, they also established multiple alliances, such as the “Holy Alliance” between Austria, Prussia and Russia, or the Quadruple Alliance between those three and Great Britain (and later France).3 At times, alliance members would provide financial and military support to suppress uprisings within member countries’ borders.

Liberalism & Nationalism in Mainland Europe

Liberals in Europe would, like mainland conservatives to their English counterparts, share some traits and be distinct in others. By and large, the liberals of mainland Europe supported movements and even revolutions that held within them the promise of greater individual liberty, freer range of motion in commerce, greater freedom of religion, more limited government (and expanded democracy), et cetera. All ideas espoused by the liberal social, political and economic theorists discussed in part 4. In the German kingdoms, as discussions ramped up about drawing the 30 member states (the 300 prior to the Congress of Vienna consolidated them into about 30) into a closer union,  liberals were pushing for a German constitution that would guarantee these principles. Likewise, in France, where political leadership changed semi-frequently, liberals pushed for more power in their representatives (as opposed to the king or emperor, when they had one) and stronger guarantees of individual rights.

But notable here is that many liberals began to latch on to notions of nationalism. Nationalism can mean many different things in many different contexts, but there are two of pertinence in this discussion. The first is a sort of tribalism—an active support or favoring of those among one’s cultural, racial and/or language-based heritage.  A second sort of nationalism was based not on tangible differences, but based on an invented nation-state. For example, the inhabitants across the Italian boot spoke numerous languages and shared little by way of a common culture. The Piedmontese were different than the Milanese who were different than the Sicilians. But a nationalist in this context, as was a very prolific Giuseppe Mazzini, promoted “Italian Nationalism”—that is, that people should embrace the national identity of “Italian” (something that had not existed prior) rather than Milanese or Venetian. Even in France, where numerous languages can be found across the nation, was the sense that everyone ought to think of themselves as “French” first, and whatever their local culture and language is second.

Many liberals promoted both types of nationalism.

In addition to the nationalism already mentioned, in Germany, liberals would actively promote union on college campuses.4

Why? A modern observer would probably be quick to warn that the centralizing nature of nationalism—especially of the invented kind—would risk more vast abuses of power. That is, the exact opposite of what they sought. But without the benefit of hindsight, such changes offered the opportunity for new constitutions favorable to their goals.

Frédéric Bastiat

Claude Frédéric Bastiat (1801-1850)

We should certainly mention one other key liberal figure in the continental tradition: Frédéric Bastiat. While Bastiat was not known for major innovations, his writings helped to popularize economic liberalism: the advocacy for private property, free markets and limited government. An astute observer of trends in his native France, Bastiat understood the growing demand for popular redistribution of wealth and property as the ideas of socialism were becoming more popular. One of his most-well-known books, The Law (full text linked), exposed this reality by claiming that when the majority used the power of the state to acquire and redistribute wealth and property, this was sanctioned theft, or what Bastiat called “legal plunder.” Furthermore, he argued, free market voluntary exchange between individuals was the best way to preserve economic harmony. Among other works was Bastiat’s What is Seen and What is Not Seen, in which he makes the point that for any government intervention, it is important to understand and look for the consequences–what is foregone in the implementation of some policy. This would form a cornerstone of works by later economists like Henry Hazlitt and Thomas Sowell.5  Today, many libertarians see Bastiat’s writings as essential readings in classical liberalism and libertarianism.

1848: Year of Revolution 

I will not comment on this extensively, but it must be mentioned that 1848 was a profound year in Europe. Of the major powers, France, Austria and Prussia, along with most other smaller nations, experienced revolution (or attempted revolution). Who led these? Interestingly enough, they were often two-fold. Liberals orchestrated movements to seek their own goals, often pushing for national unification (as in Italy and Germany) en route to those goals. But another major movement mentioned above had also taken root in the early 1800s in mainland Europe: socialism, rooted deeply in the writings of people like Karl Marx. Many of these socialists also had their agendas behind many of the 1848 revolutions. Although the title of this series indicates its emphasis on conservatism, liberalism and libertarianism, socialism (in its many facets) would have perhaps more widespread impact in the 20th century than any other ideology during that century (until the 1980s). So we’ll most certainly have more to say about that in the future and in this series.

1848 would prove a turning point in European history. Though most revolutions failed, the second half of the 19th century would see major shifts in ideological alliances. Nationalism would be taken up by many conservatives. Socialism would be taken up by many who called themselves liberals.

And the world would feel the consequences.

 

1 This  idea that human nature can be “reformed” or even returned to a state of natural goodness, was, indeed, a part of many of the Enlightenment writers, as the full scope of the Enlightenment covered a great many areas of thought. For example, Enlightenment writer Jean Jacques Rousseau actually rejected many of the rationalistic Enlightenment ideas, embracing a more “emotion-driven” understanding of humanity and society. He would inspire both the leaders of the French Revolution and many in the Romantic movement of the early 1800s (which, ironically, appealed to many conservatives!).

2 Some historians call 1814-1848 the “Age of Metternich” in Western Europe. He would go on to coordinate major diplomatic events in the German Confederacy and Europe more broadly.

3 Those who remember their history well can probably see the beginning of a series of fateful alliance systems that will contribute to World War I. Participants in various alliances, however, would change over the course of the century.

4 In in 1848, the Frankfurt Parliament would propose a plan for a unified Germany, but this would ultimately fail. This plan, had it been enacted, would have unified Germany under a very liberal constitution. When Germany was finally unified in the 1860s, it was done so under Otto von Bismarck, who was far from a Lockean liberal.

5 I recommend books by both Hazlitt and Sowell on the Recommended Books page. 

The History of Conservatism, Liberalism & Libertarianism (Part 4 – Liberalism in 18th & 19th Century Great Britain)

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Let’s jump right in. In this part, I’m going through the key elements of liberalism in Great Britain during the 18th and early 19th centuries. In case you missed any of the previous parts:

In my approach to this rather sweeping scope and sequence, I am going to first discuss key thinkers (primarily John Locke) in the development of distinctly liberal thought in the political sphere and then in the economic sphere. Then, I’ll look at specifically how liberal ideas had an impact on British politics and policies more directly.

John Locke (1632-1704)

John Locke & Other Key Theorists in Liberal Political Theory

As already stated numerous times, the character perhaps most foundation to classical liberalism is John Locke, who we already mentioned briefly in part 1. Given the profound influence on many thinkers and particularly on many of the American Founders, Locke’s ideas merit a bit more expansion than I have offered so far. As Edmund Burke is often cited as the “father of conservatism,” so Locke is considered the “father of liberalism.”1

Despite his work as a physician to the Earl of Shaftsbury (a key founder of the Whig Party who probably influenced many of Locke’s ideas), John Locke committed much of his time to philosophy and writing, producing, among other works, his primary disposition on political philosophy, The Second Treatise of Government.

Though I will not reproduce a full analysis of Locke’s theory, I do want to lay out some of his foundational ideas. To begin, Locke believed that all people are entitled to what he called the “law of nature.” He writes first that the state of nature is “a state of perfect freedom to order their actions and dispose of their possessions and persons as they see fit, within the bounds of the law of nature.” A few paragraphs later, he clarifies this law of nature:

“The state of nature has a law of nature to govern it, which obliges every one; and reason, which is that law, teaching all mankind who will but consult it, that, being all equal and independent, no one ought to harm another in his life, health, liberties or possessions. For men being all the workmanship of one omnipotent and infinitely wise Maker—all the servants of one sovereign Master—they are his property” and “there cannot be supposed any such subordination among us, that may authorize us to destroy one another.”²

 

Continuing through his Treatise, Locke then theorizes that the reason that men leave the “state of nature” and join together in political society is for the protection of those rights. In gathering together, Locke believes that people have formed a sort of “social contract,” whereby they consent to be governed by the very status of being in civil society (called social contract theory). In this civil society, they then create for themselves a government (which Locke specifically calls a commonwealth) for the protection of natural rights, and that commonwealth is only legitimate insofar as it gains its power from the consent of the governed. When the government fails to protect natural rights, it can and should be resisted and, if necessary, replaced.³

Any readers familiar with the American Declaration of Independence cannot miss Locke’s profound impact on its primary author, Thomas Jefferson.

To safeguard the government’s prescribed role as protector of individual liberty, Locke advocated a clear separation of political power into the law-making (legislative), law-enforcing (executive) and judicial branches. Of course, it’s all but impossible to miss the impact his ideas had on the American Constitution, as well.

Locke’s ideas expanded beyond his Treatises on Government. In A Letter Concerning Toleration, Locke also argued adamantly for the separation of church and state and for religious toleration, writing that “no man by nature is bound unto any particular church or sect.”4 His ideas on religious toleration and the separation of church and state would, of course, as any student of American History understands, have profound influence on the debate over these issues in the North American British colonies.

A final note before moving on. Neither modern American conservatives nor most current libertarians fully adhere to all of John Locke’s principles or premises. Nevertheless, it is hard to understand the impact of his ideas on American political life, both in the conservative and classically liberal traditions, without a more complete understanding of these fundamental tenants.

Though perhaps the greatest voice of his day advocating for natural rights, Locke was not alone. We’ve already mentioned Samuel Rutherford in part 1, but even some French thinkers would have an impact on the liberal tradition in Great Britain.

Voltaire (1694-1778)

Voltaire is a key example. A poet, playwright and humanist who spent much of his time in England, Voltaire is largely remembered for his political writings like the satirical Candide. In his writings, Voltaire argued against arbitrary power and specifically for free speech and religious toleration.

Another writer in the liberal tradition (and, incidentally, also in the conservative tradition, depending on the ideas discussed) is David Hume (1711-1776). Though an entire section could be written on Hume, as well, it must be suffice to say that he spent much of his writing arguing for the liberal idea of minimal government.

And born nearly a decade after Locke’s death, John Stuart Mill would also write a passionate treatise advocating for liberty in his essay conspicuously titled, On Liberty. I’ll mention him again in a bit.

 

Key Theorists in Liberal Economic Theory

Supplemental to the political theorists were numerous economists who either self-consciously or inadvertently can be identified in the same liberal vein. As Locke argued for political liberty, economists such as Adam Smith and David Ricardo would argue for economic liberty.

Adam Smith (1723-1790)

The name most people are familiar with, naturally, is Adam Smith, a Scottish economist boasting his major work, The Wealth of Nations (1776). We find ironies with Smith as with Locke; as a professor of moral philosophy, it is his economic writings that have earned him the title by many, “the father of modern capitalism.” (Note that some current free-market economists contend this title.)

Though by no means the key originator of these ideas, Smith made the now well-known case for free trade and deliberately opposed the mercantile ideas of the day. Mercantilism is (in layman’s terms) the economic theory that wealth is fundamentally finite and it is in a nation’s best interest to maintain a favorable balance of trade (more exports than imports) in order that more wealth enters a country than leaves. In summary, Smith is probably most well-known for his advocacy of laissez faire—or “hand’s off”—economic policy. In truth, Smith drew much of his understanding from others. This same anti-mercantilist ideology was perhaps first promoted by a group of economists in France known as the physiocrats.

(Readers hoping for a more extensive description of the economic ideas of the day will have to forgive me; click the links for further reading. Particularly interested readers may also research Cantillon, an Irish-French economist preceding Smith who laid much of the anti-mercantile groundwork. He would play a key role in the development of economics as a field of study broadly and in Austrian Economics specifically.)

In summary, then, the French physiocrats, Adam Smith and other classical economists were largely united in their view that markets, both domestic and international, ought to remain largely free of government intervention, a position that aligned itself with and became a key part of liberalism going forward.

Utilitarianism

I want to touch briefly on one other vein of thought that is often tied, in historical context, to the liberalism of the era we’re discussing: utilitarianism. To be sure, not all liberals adhered to utilitarianism, and not all utilitarians can be considered liberals. But that a few key figures did does tie the two movements together to a limited extent.

John Stuart Mill

But first, what is utilitarianism? Utilitarianism is the idea that favors policy that maximizes social utility, that is, whatever improves the greatest amount of happiness for the greatest number of people. Advocated first largely by Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832), utilitarians believed that government should pursue policies that improve social utility (or happiness) for the most people. (Some even went so far as to try to calculate pain and pleasure in what Bentham called “hedonistic calculus.”)

While not premised on principle, as for liberals such as John Locke, utilitarians often ended at liberal conclusions such as free trade, civil liberties and political equality, inevitably uniting many of their policy positions.

As already mentioned, James Mill (1773-1836) and his son, John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), are two well-known thinkers in the utilitarian and liberal streams of philosophy. Though both passionately agnostic and anti-Christian, they wrote both economics works and political philosophy pieces such as Mill the younger’s On Liberty.

Liberalism in British Politics

Okay, time to get to the practical influence of liberalism on English politics. We need to back up in time for a moment. In the last part, we looked at the development of the Whig and Tory parties surrounding the question of whether to allow James II to become king of England, which he finally did in 1685. Whiggism, originating in the fear that James would bring Great Britain back into Catholicism, became tied more and more with liberal ideology over the following centuries. Part of the reason for this was that Whigs based their policy positions on the longstanding natural law traditions in England that afforded the land-holding gentry some, if limited, sovereignty over their government.

As time went on, the ideas of John Locke helped to solidify the philosophical grounding to many Whig positions. Drawing on not only Locke, but as far back as Classical Roman Republicans, a series of essays called Cato’s Letters circulated Great Britain.5 Using historical characters to expose contemporary issues, Cato’s Letters dealt with government corruption, natural law, freedom of speech and political resistance, among other things. Published while Whigs held Parliamentary power from 1720 to 1723, Cato’s Letters helped inspire many in English society, as well as the North American English colonists.

What of specific policy prescriptions of the liberals? Let’s jump ahead to the early 1800s, where we see a few key clear-cut liberal policies come into effect.

One already mentioned in the previous part was Catholic Emancipation. Liberals and Whigs were the most ardent in their advocacy that Catholics be allowed to meet in public and serve in public office. Ultimately, in an effort by both liberals and the conservative Duke of Wellington, Catholic Emancipation managed to be passed in 1832.

Another major issue put forth by liberals was the Reform Act of 1832.

It is important to draw out one more clear point here. During the later 18th and early 19th centuries, liberalism pursued democratic expansion—the inclusion of greater numbers of people in the political process. The theory behind this is best understood in context. With the backdrop of Divine Right (discussed in Part 1), absolutism becoming stronger in neighboring France, and a hierarchical system that put power in the hands of the aristocracy, liberals saw some of the best safeguards of liberty to be in the greater “voice” of the people as a check against the arbitrary power of oligarchs. (That many people would soon come to see democracy as a way for large numbers of people to vote themselves political privileges and monetary transfers was not particularly clear to liberals at the time. More on this development later.)

Charles Grey (1764-1845)

And it was in this push for greater democracy that the Reform Act of 1832 was passed. Passed under Whig Charles Grey (for whom the tea Earl Grey is named), the Reform Act vastly expanded suffrage (by relaxing land-owning requirements for voting) and rearranged parliamentary districts (called boroughs) to ensure more equal representation. The Industrial Revolution had resulted in such massive demographic shifts and boroughs that were either vastly over-represented or under-represented, that it had become a major Whig goal to reform the entire Parliamentary district system.

The Reform Act was met with substantial opposition from Tories, who feared that a greater voting base would degrade politics into a sort of rough and tumble sport while removing it from those with the higher levels of education and nobility. It is also an important note to remember that almost all taxes were paid primarily by the land-owners. Conservatives feared that by giving suffrage to those who paid little or no taxes, the political process could, in fact, become vulnerable to taxes being raised under the pressure of those who would not pay them.

Despite opposition and with the help of political maneuvering, Charles Grey managed to get the Reform Bill passed.

Encouraged by this, the Chartism working-class movement of the 1830s-1850s sought to expand these democratic and, at the time, liberal gains. The Chartists pushed for universal male suffrage, voting by secret ballot, the elimination of property-requirements for members of Parliament, a more evenly balanced constituency for these members, and annual elections. For the time being, these measures failed in the British Parliament.

Finally, liberals were at the forefront of the abolitionist movement. While the slave trade had already been passed in England (with the advocacy of conservative William Pitt the Younger), it was also during Charles Grey’s tenure during which all slaves were freed in the entirety of the British empire, a longstanding goal of many liberals.

And this concludes the foundational ideas of conservatism and liberalism as they developed in Great Britain. Many readers will already see how these ideas impacted the development of the United States, in some cases in opposition to each other, and at times in unison. In the coming posts, we’ll head over to the specifics of this narrative in the American colonies before coming back to look at these ideas on continental Europe, the emergence of socialism, the modern trends in conservatism and liberalism, and so much more. Thanks for reading!

¹A quick Google search turns up many articles testifying to these titles. 

²The hyperlink before is to a full-length text. The quoted portions come from pages 2-3 of the Dover Thrift Edition.

³Ironically and contrary to the understanding of previous scholarship, it turns out that Locke’s Second Treatise on Government was written prior to the Glorious Revolution of 1688, discussed in parts 1 and 3.

4Same version as footnote #2, page 116. 

5Cato the Younger was the Roman Republican who, after attempting and failing to prevent Julius Caesar’s rise to virtual dicatorship, eventually committed suicide. In addition to inspiring his namesake essays circulating Great Britain, his story also inspired many in the American Colonies, especially Patrick Henry.

The History of Conservatism, Liberalism & Libertarianism (Part 3 – Conservatism in 17th & 18th Century Great Britain)

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In Part 1, I laid out a bird’s eye view of how natural law translated into its common law protections in England and in Part 2, I attempted to share how the terms conservatism and liberalism can be defined. So does that make 17th century Great Britain notably liberal (given liberalism affinity with liberty) or conservative (given conservative affinity with tradition)? As noted in Part 2, you could argue both ways. But let’s get into the details and you can decide for yourself. That takes us back to the English Civil War. In this part, I’ll take you from this event to the mid-1800s, specifically looking at the early Whig and Tory parties and the development of conservatism in British politics.

But first, why is this important to modern readers? Because many modern American Conservative values are rooted in the writings and ideas of the British conservatives of this time period.

Charles I (1600-1649)

The Whigs and the Tories

Before we get to the 18th Century, let’s expand on a few details alluded to in Part 1. The English Civil War broke out in 1642 and would finally be settled with the execution of King Charles I in 1649 at the hands of Parliament and its military commander, Oliver Cromwell. To oversimplify the matter, Charles ended up at war with Parliament for his numerous attempts to dissolve Parliament and rule in absolutist fashion as his neighbor, King Louis XIV (the “Sun King”) of France when they restricted Charles’ access to taxation and other elements of power as laid out in the Magna Carta and later documents. The war, more about power than political theory, was nevertheless embodied a sort of symbolic conflict between the king and his supporters and country and their political representatives—absolutism vs. representative government. (It should be noted that only the land-owing aristocracy of England both paid national taxes and voted, as it was understood that tax-paying citizens should be responsible for the representatives using those taxes.)

Puritan leader and Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell ruled in the British Commonwealth until his death in 1658. His son was unable to keep the loyalty of Parliament and the army, and Parliament, disenchanted with the Cromwells, invited Charles II (the son of executed Charles I) back from exile in France (where he also admired the absolute rule of Louis XIV). To most of Parliament, Charles II was the same disappointment as his father.

James II (1633-1701)

Charles II (1630-1685)

This is where we see the earliest development of what would later become distinct political parties in the English Parliament: the Whigs and the Tories. Though these groups were not formalized until much later, the question that would start to divide them was: Who should succeed Charles II, who did not have a son of his own? Charles had a brother, James, a Catholic, who was in line to rule upon Charles’ death. Members of Parliament who began to unify against the ascension of James to the throne became known as Whigs, and those who generally supported James as king were known as Tories. The Whig argument centered around fears of a recurrence of the days of England’s notorious “Bloody” Mary, the Catholic queen who had attempted to return England to Catholicism through often violent means. Tories, on the other hand, notwithstanding their own concerns of a Catholic King in a country where it was culturally-expected to be anti-Catholic, were inclined to grant royal prerogative. This was the idea that the succession of kings is a matter outside the hands of Parliament.

Whigs won the electoral debate in Parliament, which passed the Exclusion Bill, barring James from the throne. The bill was expectedly vetoed by King Charles, and when he died in 1685, James came to the throne as James II despite Parliamentary efforts. However, within three short years, James had managed to isolate both Whigs and Tories, and 1688 marked the astonishingly peaceful transition of power as James’s sister Mary and her Dutch husband William came to the throne and James himself quietly slipped out of London.  This was the Glorious Revolution discussed in Part 1.

The English Bill of Rights and similar measures passed in the immediate wake of the Glorious Revolution and agreed to by King William and Mary solidified parliamentary sovereignty in England. This would put the bulk of future policy debates primarily in the hands of the members of Parliament, and though the issues would change, the Whigs and the Tories would persist and eventually formalize into more distinct political sides.

The Development of Conservative Thinking

Amidst these significant changes in English politics and the ultimate ascendancy of Parliament in the political process, the Whigs and the Tories would increasingly become more aligned with liberalism and conservatism, respectively. In this part, we’re focusing on the latter.

Henry St. John Vincent Bolingbroke (1678-1751)

Two key people must be discussed as particularly influential in conservative thought: Henry St. John Vincent Bolingbroke and the more well-known Edmund Burke.

Bolingbroke’s period of influence came about shortly after yet another short but turbulent political episode. After the death of William and Mary, Mary’s younger sister, Anne, also died  after a short period as queen (in 1714) without an heir. When Whigs in Parliament decided to invite the German Hanoverian King George to be the British King George I, a plot emerged to place James III, son of James II, on the throne. Those supporting this measure were known as Jacobites (named for the Latin word for James: Jacob), who twice tried to accomplish their goal (known as the “Jacobite Uprisings”). Tories, having their political beginnings in support of the royal prerogative of the very much disliked James II, were naturally suspected of sympathy toward the Jacobites, resulting in Whig dominance of Parliament during the period. Bolingbroke, a Tory, was also implicated and spent some time in exile before regaining favor and returning to England.

A key early conservative thinker, Bolingbroke (1678-1751) is one of the first to clearly lay out what would become known as conservative values. First, he argued that the primary unit of society is the family, and all law should be centered around the family unit rather than the individual. Second, though deistic himself, he supported the established and government-sponsored Church of England. Third, he believed that politics could only affect limited influence on society. And finally, he favored the land-owning aristocracy and looked down on the growing merchant and middle class. All four of these would, to one extent or another, come to be key elements of conservative principles.

Edmund Burke (c.1729-1797)

The second key figure in the development of these principles was Edmund Burke (1729-1797), considered by many to be the father of modern conservatism in both England and the United States. Ironically, and as a further demonstration of the nebulous nature of terms, ideas and labels, Burke was a Whig and is also often cited as a key thinker in the liberal tradition. In and out of Parliament, Burke never produced a clear political treatise (there is some debate over the only one he did produce as a young man, but most of his political theory is drawn from his later political career and bits and pieces of his writing). Conservative in his approach to politics, Burke nevertheless favored some political reform, such as Catholic Emancipation. If enacted, this would free Catholics to meet publicly in England and open up further opportunities to Catholics, an idea shunned by many, if not most, outspoken voices in Parliament and England. The measure was rejected. Burke also supported the American Revolutionaries. None of these approaches would seem particularly conservative to many observers.

If Burke wasn’t strictly conservative in these regards, what gains him the title “Father of Modern Conservatism”? Specifically, his conservatism comes through in his writings, primarily in his essay Reflections on the Revolution in France in 1790 (the French Revolution began in 1789). First of all, he makes the very conservative case that the structure, traditions and relations of society are organic and develop over time through unique human interaction, not as some mechanical, impersonal or forced process. He is here arguing broadly against a growing humanistic culture, a worldview glorifying the ability of people to guide and orchestrate society toward some form of perfection (we will later call this progressivism). He is more specifically countering French philosophers who argue that society can be “reset.” Second, he argues that political change must be made very gradually; not through revolution or radical uprisings. Keep this second point in mind going forward.

William Pitt the Younger (1759-1806)

Conservatism in English Politics

Far more involved in British politics from the mid-18th to mid-17th centuries were a a few key characters instrumental in transforming conservatism from a vague ideology to a semi-organized political approach. The first, William Pitt the Younger (1759-1806), a Tory, would serve as Prime Minister (the youngest in English history) during the French Revolution of 1789. Like Burke, he favored some reformist policies, but was conservative in his belief that change should be limited, gradual and organic. Particularly, he feared the spread of revolution to England, and took measures to repress free press and free speech in his Sedition Laws, suspended habeas corpus, and banned trade unions, which he believed fostered discontent in the working classes. This particular fear of an overflow of the revolution into Great Britain from France was reflected in the writing and words of many conservatives during the era, and conservatives saw it as crucial to avoid any chance that this could happen.

Overall, Pitt’s actions characterized political conservatism: a premium put on keeping order at the expense of individual liberty. (Many Americans will recall this is during the same time that American President John Adams would sign the Alien and Sedition Acts into law.)

Robert Peel (1788-1850)

The Duke of Wellington (1769-1852)

Tories would dominate Parliament for the first part of the 19th century. Key figures among them, especially after the resignation and death of Pitt, would be George Canning and Arthur Wellesley (the Duke of Wellington), both of whom followed in the politically conservative stream of Burke and Pitt, working to maintain order, but also pursuing the more liberal Catholic Emancipation.  Still, it wasn’t until Robert Peel (1788-1850) that Tories began to consider themselves conservatives in a self-conscious fashion and in the sense that we understand Bolingbroke and Burke retrospectively. Peel would serve as a leader in the House of Commons and had a few stints as Prime Minister, during this time creating the first modern municipal police force in London and finally managing to work with the Duke of Wellington to pass Catholic Emancipation in 1829. A later policy position ended up with a split in the Conservative Party, but the fundamental points of conservatism had been laid. We’ll look at this split in a later post.

What Did Conservatism Look Like in Great Britain?

In addition to Tory/Conservative dominance in the Parliament during the early 1800s, conservative authors and poets were representative of the cultural phenomenon of conservative. Names such as Sir Walter Scott are familiar to some readers, among others like William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The latter, Coleridge, wrote specifically in 1830 on how the integral union between the church and state formed a backbone of English society (On the Constitution of Church and State); a church was the unifying center of every community across England, he argued. Many of these writers were influenced by the Romantic Movement, a cultural and artistic emphasis on emotion, beauty and the subjectivity of feeling (and a pendulum swing away from the rationalism of the 18th century Enlightenment).

So, despite its varieties, what commonalities bound conservatives together in the 18th and 19th Centuries in Great Britain? I’ll conclude with a concise list. (Obviously, some of these will overlap with current emphases of American Conservatism and some will not.)

  • Support for established institutions, particularly the Anglican Church (and its status as government-sponsored)
  • An emphasis on slow, organic political and social reform, if any, with an acute skepticism of government as an agent of change
  • A praise and support for tradition
  • Recognition of society as an organic, naturally occurring organism rather than being mechanical and systematic
  • A prime importance put on maintaining order, using government restrictions on liberty to maintain it, if necessary, and to ensure that revolutionary fervor not spread

Thanks for sticking with me this far! In the next post, we’ll look further and the development of liberalism in Great Britain, and then move to America in the founding era after that. Subscribe to know when the next one is posted (and to get my enjoyable emails)! See you then.

The History of Conservatism, Liberalism & Libertarianism (Part 1 – Natural Law Traditions in Great Britain)

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Given that terms like these—liberals, progressives, conservatives, libertarians, et cetera—are thrown out all the time, it is important to have some understanding of where these terms come from. My goal for this and its subsequent topical posts is to condense this history into an abridged narrative. Please keep in mind that the history of ideas is so abundantly rich and diverse that a blog cannot do its full intricacies justice. Indeed, full series could be written on the topics I hope to summarize in a series of blog posts. I hope my readers will give me the grace to necessarily avoid the full exploration of nuances that come up constantly in the history of terms and ideas.

The Enlightenment & the Divine Right of Kings

In that similar vein of clarification, there is no possible way to satisfactorily address the vastness of the Enlightenment. As the Middle Ages led into the Renaissance, and the Renaissance into the Enlightenment during the 1600 and 1700s, many old ideas, anchored in Europe since the Dark Ages, were beginning to be challenged, some for better and some for worse. And although the ideas fostered during the Enlightenment could be quite different depending on the person and area studied, this refusal to follow the entrenched ideas of the Middle Ages were a common feature throughout. The supremacy of the Catholic Church was being challenged (where it had not already been overthrown by the Reformation Wars). The old beliefs about human nature—taught generally consistently by the Catholic Church as being inherently sinful in the Christian tradition—were being challenged. The old hierarchies were being challenged. For the sake of brevity, I couldn’t possibly exhaust the list, and most readers will find the list a mix of good and harmful ideas.

Of particular note in our story, the old idea of the Divine Right of Kings was being challenged, as well. This was the idea that the monarch of a country had a divine right to rule because they had been appointed to the position by God and confirmed by the Pope (or the Archbishop of the Anglican Church after King Henry V of England pulled England away from the Catholic Church because the Pope refused to let him divorce his wife).

The implication of this idea was that the king was above the law; he had absolute power because, in essence, he was the law. In France, kings would rule with increasingly centralized power and capitalize on this idea of absolutism. In England, the story was a bit different.

King John IV signs the Magna Carta, June 15, 1215

The Struggle in England

Though I cannot relay the full story here, England had localized democratic traditions going back prior to the Norman (people from the Northern French region of Normandy) takeover of the country by William the Conqueror in 1066. Some of these persisted, and after a series of kings attempted to establish themselves as absolute dictators in the Norman and French tradition, the English Parliament, in 1215, forced King John IV to sign the Magna Carta – the “Great Charter” – providing some limits on his power and Parliamentary control over taxation, as well as habeas corpus for all free men in England.

Mixed results followed for some centuries, and the struggle between Parliament and the King of England came to a head in the English Civil War of 1642-1649, followed by a decade of quasi or real military rule by Oliver Cromwell, followed by a return to the monarchical line until 1688. In that year, Parliament went over the head of King James II and invited his daughter and her Dutch husband (who was king of Holland at the time) to come rule in England on condition that Parliament’s demands in the English Bill of Rights be honored by the new monarchs. In a remarkable event known as the Glorious (or Bloodless) Revolution, King James II quietly retired (after all, his dad had been decapitated by the Parliament’s allies in the civil war) as William and Mary took his place and submitted a great deal more power to Parliament.

Samuel Rutherford

The English & Scottish Traditions of Natural Law

At the same time as many of these events, a number of English (and Scottish) Enlightenment writers were publishing their ideas. Scottish writer Samuel Rutherford published Lex Rex in 1644, a book emphasizing the supremacy of law over kings, a direct attack on absolutism and Divine Right. This helped influence a young Englishman, John Locke, who would later publish his own political philosophy laying out a case for limited government and a clear defense of natural law.

(I don’t have time to distinguish between the various Scottish vs. English influences on natural law, but they certainly had extensive mutually-influential impact, such as Rutherford’s influence on Locke. Readers can explore that further, if they like. For our purposes, we’re going to somewhat loosely categorize them together.)

The basic idea of natural law was, as John Locke would put in the clearest terms, the individual’s right to life, liberty and property. Samuel Rutherford, a Presbyterian (the more formal Scottish version of Anglicanism), approached these ideas from a reformation-based background, arguing much of his case on the basis of Scripture. John Locke, whose spiritual views amounted to a vague deistic worldview, argued for the right to life, liberty and property on a more secular basis. Though others certainly had influence in English and western tradition, the impact their ideas had on Great Britain (the greater England, Wales and Scotland Island) and the United States can hardly be understated. Thomas Jefferson, directly drawing on Locke’s language, would attempt greater inspiration with the words, “right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” in the American Declaration of Independence.

John Locke

 

Locke’s major political work, Two Treatises of Government

Still, we must understand that these were not entirely new ideas. That Parliament had forced the signing of the Magna Carta as far back as 1215 testified to the importance of some limitations on the Divine Right idea, and while it wasn’t a full codification of natural law, its grant of habeas corpus to all free men was a significant step in affirming a key part of natural law: a promise of the protection of a person’s rights in the courts (and protection against being held without charge). By modern standards, Parliament members were not particularly prodigal in their ideas that all people had extensive individual rights, but there was a distinctly growing tradition in England, going back centuries, that gave all Englishmen a strong sense of natural law, to some extent or another, and that the king’s power should be limited by Parliament or law was both a product of this tradition and helped fertilize it. This formed a basis for what was known as English Common Law, a tradition of upholding property rights, allowing for jury trials, and various other elements built into the legal system that helped protect some individual liberties, especially for those among the upper classes and the large-landholder aristocrats (this point will be important going forward, so keep it in mind).

This background will help to provide key context as we begin to explore, first, the ideas of conservatism and liberalism as they emerged in England. As we proceed, I’ll also clarify how this contrasted with views on the same terms in Continental Europe especially with the advancement of socialism in the late 1800s, but will spend more time looking at how these, and terms like progressivism and libertarianism developed and impacted ideas in the United States. It’s a complicated world exploring ideas like this, but I hope to lend a bit of light to such a complex subject.

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