The Levellers of the 1640’s: England’s Revolutionaries for Individual Liberty

When the American Congress set out their political principles in the Declaration of Independence on July 4th 1776, their ideas were taken straight from the English Levellers a century and a quarter before. John Lilburne, considered by most as the premier Leveller,  invoked pure natural rights when he stated that men were

by nature all equal and alike in power, dignity, authority, and majesty.

This natural law dictated that no man had

any authority, dominion or magisterial power, one over or above another, neither have they, or can they exercise any, but merely by institution, or donation, that is to say, by mutual agreement or consent, given, derived, or assumed, by mutual consent and agreement.

Leveller Richard Overton:

By natural birth, all men are equal and alike born to the like propriety and freedom.

and:

To every individual in nature, is given an individual propriety by nature, not to be invaded or usurped by any … for every one as he is himself hath a self-propriety, else could not be himself, and on this no second may presume without consent.

Declaration of Independence author, Thomas Jefferson once quoted Leveller Richard Rumbold: ‘The mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favoured few booted and spurred ready to ride them legitimately.’

The Levellers were an informal alliance of pamphleteers, merchants, apprentices, and army agitators who emerged during the upsurge of political and religious freethinking unleashed by the conflict between Parliament and England’s King Charles I in the 1640s. The most prominent Levellers were John Lilburne, Richard Overton, William Walwyn, John Wildman, Edward Sexby and Colonel Thomas Rainborough.

Lilburne considered the term, ‘Leveller’, pejorative and initially called his supporters “Levellers so-called” and preferred “Agitators”.  The term suggested that the “Levellers” aimed to bring all down to the lowest common level. The leaders vehemently denied the charge of “levelling”, but adopted the name because it was how they were known to the majority of people. After their arrest and imprisonment in 1649, four of the “Leveller” leaders – Walwyn, Overton, Lilburne and Thomas Prince – signed a manifesto in which they called themselves Levellers.

To understand the rise of the radical movement of the Levellers, the reign of England’s absolutist monarch, King Charles I, must be examined. Charles was both despotic and inept as a ruler and this combination resulted in The English Civil War, sometimes called The English Revolution, as he was found guilty of treason and executed by decapitation in January 1649, guilty of abusing power by virtue of claiming authority directly from God rather than the laws of the land. Charles believed in the divine right of kings and thought he could govern according to his own conscience. Many of his subjects opposed his policies, in particular the levying of taxes without parliamentary consent, and perceived his actions as those of a tyrant.

The Levellers’ origin as a mass activist-orientated political movement is inextricably linked to John Lilburne not only philosophically but practically. The movement can be seen as coming into being, at least in part, as a reaction to his conflict with the Long Parliament. On leaving the army John Lilburne had continued his involvement in politics, campaigning on the issue of religious toleration. Publishing and distributing several pamphlets critical of Parliament and Parliamentarians on this issue, he was arraigned before the House of Commons on July 19th 1645. Refusing to comply with Parliament’s wishes he was jailed for three months.

In July 1646, the House of Lords put him on trial for publishing literature critical of the Earl of Manchester. Refusing to recognise the Lords’ right to try him, Lilburne defended himself candidly: he was sentenced to seven years imprisonment, barred from holding civil or military office and fined two thousand pounds. This harsh sentence inspired an unprecedented level of political action in defence of Lilburne, including mass marches, a petition signed by over two thousand citizens of London and a massive lobby of Parliament, putting into place a political organisation which would emerge as the Leveller party.

The whole basis of the nature of government, sovereignty and its derivation from, and relationship with, the people, had also come sharply into focus because of the civil war and its implications. This focus was in many ways a natural extention of the debate on the organisation and constitution of the Church and religious freedom which dominated the lead-up to the English Civil War.

In Walwyn’s Englands Lamentable Slaverie, published in October 1645, the Levellers’ stance on Parliamentary authority and its relationship with the people was defined for the first time:

… parliamentary authority is a power intrusted by the people (that chose them) for their good saftie and freedom; and therefore a Parliament cannot justlie do anything to make the people less safe or lesse free then they found them.

In the week or so before Lilburne was tried by the House of Lords, Richard Overton and William Walwyn, and possibly the republican parliamentarian Henry Marten, had written and published in early July 1646 A Remonstrance of many thousand citizens, a tract which can be seen as the entry into British politics of the Leveller party. A Remonstrance restated the sovereignty of the people, called for the dissolution of the House of Commons, the abolition of the upper house, equality before the law, called for religious freedom and the end of the Merchant Adventurers Company’s foreign trade monopoly.

Thus, the Levellers in the mid-1640s as a political movement came into being which eventually would become in effect the third party after the Presbyterian and Independents. Other leading figures, apart from John Lilburne and William Walwyn, were Richard Overton, John Wildman, Thomas Prince, Samuel Chidley and William Larner. Both Overton and Larner were veteran pamphleteers and printers, having already come into conflict with the authorities over religious toleration and censorship; Thomas Prince was a merchant who had served in the civil war and was co-treasurer, with Chidley, of the Leveller party; John Wildman, a university graduate and with a legal education, liased closely with the military Levellers, writing or helping to write several of their key documents, including The Case of the Armie Truly Stated.

By the end of the first civil war in 1646 their ideas had come to dominate the thinking of soldiers and officers in the all-powerful New Model Army, and the Levellers briefly held the balance of political power. Their manifesto, Agreement of the People, which is first proposal in history for a written constitution based on natural rights.

They held (in the words of Richard Overton) that ‘by natural birth all men are equally and alike borne to like propriety, liberty and freedom’, and that government should be a contract between equal citizens. They called for a secular republic, with separation of legislative and executive powers and abolition of the House of Lords; equality before the law; the right to vote for all except beggars and servants; free trade; abolition of censorship, freedom of speech and complete religious toleration.

In March 1647 the Army’s rank-and-file began to elect agitators to voice their demands for radical political reform. Cromwell, Ireton and Fairfax, the army’s high command, were deeply alarmed, but needed the Army’s co-operation to maintain control over Parliament and the country. The result was one of the most remarkable contests of the civil war, as ordinary soldiers sat down with generals in a church in Putney to deliberate the rights and wrongs of revolution. At this meeting Leveller Colonel Thomas Rainborough argued the case for universal suffrage as the only way of ensuring the consent of the governed:

I think the poorest he that is in England hath a life to live as the greatest he; and therefore truly, sir, I think it’s clear that every man that is to live under a government ought first by his own consent to put himself under that government.

Over the next year the outbreak of the second phase of the Civil War and the despatch of part of the Army to fight in Ireland helped the generals to re-established their authority, and by 1649 Leveller influence in the New Model was waning. An attempted mutiny by radical regiments in Berkshire was crushed at Burford church, and three Leveller soldiers – Corporals Church and Perkins and Cornet Thompson – shot by Cromwell’s men.

Lilburne, Walwyn, Prince, and Overton were imprisoned in the Tower of London by the Council of State. It was while the leaders of the Levellers were being held in the Tower that they wrote an outline of the reforms the Levellers wanted, in a pamphlet entitled “An Agreement Of The Free People Of England” (written on May 1, 1649). It includes reforms that have since been made law in England, such as the right to silence and others that have not been, such as an elected judiciary. John Lilburne was tried for high treason, convinced the jury of his innocence and was acquitted – only to be re-tried by Parliament a year later, convicted and sent into lifelong exile in the Netherlands.

But Leveller ideas lived on in the profoundly influential ‘natural right’ theories of John Locke, in Rousseau’s social contract, and in the hearts of libertarians and socialists alike, all those pursuing their own brand of liberty.

Sources:

http://www.immaculateheartacademy.org/outside2/socialstudies/kuhns/The%20Levellers.htm

The Myth of Universal Human Rights by David N. Stamos

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Levellers

http://clichesofpolitics.com/Levellers.htm

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_I_of_England

http://links.org.au/node/1290

 

 

 

 

The Magna Carta: Happy 800th Birthday, You Great Document!

Today (June 15, 2015) marks the 800th anniversary of the Magna Carta, a document paving the way to constitutional government. English barons forced King John to approve the charter in 1215 in Runnymede, southwest of London. By appending his seal to the Magna Carta, John was the first monarch to submit to demands for a detailed limitation to the powers of the sovereign. Not only did the document limit royal power, but it made clear even the king had to obey the law. This charter granted many rights to the English aristocracy, but many years later it became a model for those who demanded democratic and individual rights for all.

During the first years of the 1200’s John’s policies had led to the loss of long-held estates in Northern France, eliminating an important source of his nobles’ wealth. Also, his arguments with the church (over such matters as the right to appoint archbishops of Canterbury) resulted in a decline in national pride as England became a fiefdom of the Pope, and the imposition of heavy taxes to fund the army added to a simmering discontent that boiled over into rebellion in 1215. On June 15, in return for promises of loyalty, John met with his barons and clerics in Runnymede, on the banks of the River Thames southwest of London and agreed to provisions outlined in a lengthy manuscript that would curtail his authority. An amended version was approved 4 days later, and a formal record of the understanding was prepared by the royal chancery on July 15. Revised versions of Magna Carta were issued in 1216, 1217, 1225, 1264, and 1297. The 63 clauses in the document covered many aspects of life dealing with the church, land holding arrangements, the legal system, royal appointments, urban trade, and the means by which the monarch could be held to the agreement. Most focussed on the circumstances of the time and are of little importance to modern society, but these three have a lasting legacy:

(38) In future no official shall place a man on trial upon his own unsupported statement, without producing credible witnesses to the truth of it.

(39) No free man shall be seized or imprisoned, or stripped of his rights or possessions, or outlawed or exiled, or deprived of his standing in any way, nor will we proceed with force against him, or send others to do so, except by the lawful judgment of his equals or by the law of the land.

(40) To no one will we sell, to no one deny or delay right or justice.

Historian and author, Dan Jones, author of The Plantagenets: The Warrior Kings and Queens Who Made England, provides a historical synopsis-context for the Magna Carta and the terrible king who was forced to sign it:

“John’s reputation is one of the worst kings in English history, a diabolical murderer who brought tyranny and constitutional crisis to his realm…. In the most sympathetic analysis, John’s greatest crime was to have been king as fortune’s wheel rolled downward. He had all his family’s most ruthless instincts allied with none of their good fortune. He presided weakly over the loss of Normandy, and once the duchy was lost he twice failed to win it back. He did not inspire men to great deeds with the force of his personality, yet it is fair to wonder if Henry II or even Richard might have regained Normandy from the position that John occupied in 1204…. As it was, a disastrous civil war, capped by a French invasion, was John’s immediate legacy to his family. In 1215 the Magna Carta was nothing more than a failed peace treaty. John was not to know—any more than the barons who negotiated its terms with him would have done—that his name and the myth of the document sealed at Runnymede would be bound together in English history forever…. The Magna Carta would be reissued time and time again in the years immediately following John’s death, and interpreting this intricate document on the limits of the powers of a king would be at the heart of every constitutional battle that was fought during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. As Henry III struggled to regain the rights and territories that his father had lost, the Great Charter gradually came to define the terms of engagement between king and community. When it was reissued in 1225, the Magna Carta was nailed to church doors and displayed in town squares across England, gaining legendary status as a document whose spirit stood for the duty of English kings to govern within the laws they made.”

Even though Pope Innocent III annulled the Magna Carta in August of 1215, declaring it null and void and having been sealed under duress, the document was resuscitated over time. Over the course of the next 800 years, the idea of Magna Carta gathered momentum and assumed a greater authority in respect of the central key clauses concerning liberty and justice. The central clauses have not only stood the test of time, but have a potency of their own which has seen off hundreds of attempts at annulment, repeal, modification and suspension by successive monarchs and governments.

Sources: World Book Encyclopedia, 2015 edition; Historical Dictionary of the British Monarchy by Kenneth J. Panton; http://www.bl.uk/magna-carta/articles/magna-carta-english-translation; and The Plantagenets: The Warrior Kings and Queens Who Made England by Dan Jones

The Historical Roots and Development of Socialism

The definition of socialism in Webster’s Third International Dictionary is: any of various theories or social and political movements advocating or aiming at collective or governmental ownership and administration of the means of production and control of the distribution of goods.

In today’s vernacular, “socialism” is an epithet used both by conservatives and American pro-capitalist libertarians as part of spin to paint government as a “nanny state” for lazy and/or poor people “who want the government to give them stuff or take care of them”. The fact that crony capitalists control government and use lobbyists to write pro-crony-capitalist regulations rarely gets to reply to this spin. Over time words are used in different ways by different groups of people with certain political or ideological motives to recruit people to join their movements. This basic fact worsens any potential “objective” or non-partisan grasp of history. This is not saying that a total grasp or knowledge of real history is possible, but rather, the flagrant distortion of history by way of a few ideologically motivated cherry-picked historical highlights amounts to “anti-history”, if I’m permitted to coin that as a term.

The fickle changing of words’ meanings means that whoever is defining a given word gets to define history from their point of view. It is easy to use an essentially empty historical canvass to paint one’s historically revised cartoon version which one uses to market one’s partisan political worldview to one’s target audience.

Historian Albert S. Lindemann gives a broad historical view of socialism. Even though the word, socialism, is only about 180 years old and significant social movements only about 130, it is possible to trace an enduring quest for community and cooperation, and, by the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, a growing belief in the possibility of constructing a rational and natural social order. Socialists have always exhibited a fundamental concern for cooperation and social justice, with particular emphasis on the needs and rights of the community over the egotistical urges of the individual. Its straightforward etymology bears out its first wide usage as the opposite to individualism, to stress humans’ social nature, their socialism, at a time when the individualistic strivings unleashed by the nascent capitalistic system seemed to be destroying much of what was humane and beautiful in European civilization.

Thus, socialists have tended to stress that human beings are properly gregarious rather than self-sufficient, that they should concern themselves with the welfare of the fellow human beings, especially those weaker or less fortunate. On a loftier level, socialists have stressed that men and women achieve their most highly developed humanity only in society in cooperative rather than competitive effort with others. This commitment to cooperation rather than competition, to fellowship, solidarity, and sympathy, rather than self-seeking, is the most fundamental and abiding characteristic of the socialistic tradition.

Such attitudes were obviously not completely new in the early 19th century. The socialist impulse has deep roots in history. Since antiquity social inequality and heedless individualism have found eloquent critics. Christ himself was a poor carpenter whose utterances were full of condemnation of the rich and the proud; he could be termed a “proletarian” revolutionary (from a Marxist viewpoint). The Christian tradition has unmistakable socialistic elements, and throughout the history of Christianity various sects have tried to live with “all things common”.

By contrast, modern socialism differs from the ancient socialistic tendencies. Modern socialists have usually been secular, basing their theories on human rationality, on specifically human feelings of solidarity, and on natural law, as distinguished from such mystical concepts as divine inspiration, brotherhood in Christ, or divine law. This is not to ignore that many socialists, even those who became militantly anti-Christian, emerged from a Christian background, retained certain Christian habits and sentiments, and even praised the corporatist habits of premodern Christian society. A number of socialists argued that socialism socialism was kind of a “true” religion, abandoned by the official churches, and indeed many socialists remained Christians. Yet on balance modern socialism has been an enemy of organized religion and of theological approaches to social problems.

A second important difference is socialism’s relationship to modernization or the so-called Dual Revolution, the industrial revolution and the wave of political revolutions that swept Europe in the latter part of the 18th century, transforming European life. These revolutions stimulated hopes for a fundamentally different world, based on rational human design rather than on tradition or inscrutable forces, and on material plenty rather than want. However, the initial impact of the Dual Revolution appeared remote from these hopes. The growing conservatism of the French Revolution as well as the shocking social conditions of early industrialization outraged those with a vision of a new, ideal order.

A variety of people were repelled by the effects of revolutionary change. Particularly numerous at first were those who considered political upheaval and industrialization to be unmitigated disasters, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. The socialists by and large held a more positive view. Believing in the feasibility of using new industrial techniques and political institutions for a richer, more harmonious life, they rejected the notion of a return to a traditional, agrarian past—although most of them hoped somehow to retain the noncompetitive qualities of the past.

Liberalism (classical liberalism) was another ideology to emerge with modern times, and in a number of ways its concerns and character were similar to, or overlapped, those of socialism. It could easily be argued that socialism, while sharply opposing itself to liberalism, evolved out of liberal tenets and remained marked throughout its history by that origin. Yet it is important for our concerns to make as clear as possible the underlying concerns of liberals that distinguished them from socialists. (Note that Lindemann is striving to be historically objective here).

As their name suggests, liberals were characteristically concerned with the concept of liberty or liberation (liber is Latin for “free”). They saw liberty as an all-embracing force for good in the world, a force that would ensure progress, happiness, and an almost unlimited perfection of the human personality. In more concrete terms, they looked to a free market (as opposed to one rigidly controlled or directed by the state); freedom of assembly, speech, and press; freely elected representative institutions—all in the context of a popularly established rule of law. The free competition of individuals was desirable to them. It represented the best way of unleashing human potential, and they accepted that such competition would lead to a degree of social and economic inequality. When they praised “equality” what they meant was equality of opportunity and equality before the law—lack of special legal privilege—not social inequality, particularly not if such equality had collectivist implications, or somehow limited individual freedom.

Liberals were committed to the institution of private property, to them a fundamental guarantee of freedom and a reward for superior individual achievement. One of the main functions that liberals saw for the state—whose power, they believed, should be carefully limited in most respects because of the dangers it posed to liberty—was the protection of property. Liberals tended to consider the failure to accumulate property as a personal inadequacy, and they viewed poverty in general as due to personal laziness or incompetence, rather than to lowly origin or overpowering impersonal forces.

Socialists too were fascinated by the notion of liberation, believing as they did in a freely developing human perfectibility, and most of them favored free institutions and freedom of speech and assembly. The key difference came in the socialists’ rejection rejection of individual competitiveness. To them it appeared destructive, and they similarly considered that private property preserved unfair and harmful social distinctions.

To understand the ways that socialism and liberalism overlapped it is further useful to distinguish the two main tendencies in the latter; that is, between what we can call the “whig” and the “democratic radical”. The whig-liberal tendency was to be hostile to popular rule, which the whig feared would degenerate into rule by the mob. The whig was attracted to elitist oligarchic rule and was devoted to the preservation of powerful institutions (law courts, representative bodies, professional organizations) as well as large property holdings, which he believed would protect liberty by standing in the way of a centralization or usurpation of power, either by a despot or the masses. Obviously the whig conception of liberty had much to do with the idea of privilege.

The democratic-radical tendency within liberalism (in France “jacobin” and in England simply “radical”), on the other hand, accepted popular rule with liberty—indeed as its most reliable guarantee—and was concerned to fashion political institutions that would reflect the direct will of the masses (and not of privileged elites, as the whigs would have it). But the democratic radical still retained a belief in competitive individualism, did not oppose moderate holdings of private property and rejected collectivism. He was sympathetic to the plight of the working poor and generally opposed great differences in social status or wealth, but his remedy for poverty remained hard work and individual enterprise. He was willing to see that state intervene to preserve what he deemed to be fair competition, but he was reticent to see that state take up the task of enforcing social solidarity and fellowship or socializing wealth. Still, it was at the democratic-radical pole of liberalism that it began in important ways to merge into socialism, and many socialists began as democratic radicals.

It is axiomatic for students of European history to know that ideologies do not exist as purely abstract statements; they are linked to or express interests. It is further plausible that class background tends to influence political persuasion, that the poor tend to be attracted to ideologies that in some way favor them, and the rich look to ideologies that defend their wealth and justify their position in society. But these correlations are anything but simple, and much recent scholarship—particularly that devoted to history from the bottom up—has been concerned to question easy assumptions about social class and political preference.

Nevertheless, history notes that socialism’s following came primarily from the lower ranks of society, where it was gradually perceived that strength lay in numbers, in solidarity, and that only through cooperative or collective action could economic and social oppression be remedied. Perhaps more important, most people who became wage-earning workers came from pre-industrial backgrounds, where individualism was not a virtue. Thus they were inclined to reject competitive individualism and its associated liberal ideology and to embrace ideologies that emphasized cooperation and economic control.

This is not to imply that all wage earners, or even a majority of them, became socialists at any time in any country, since they obviously did not, nor is it meant to ignore the role of wealthy and leisured individuals of the bourgeosie, or middle class, were attracted more to liberalism that to socialism. They were normally employers rather than employees, exploiters rather than exploited, and they tended to benefit most from political liberalization and a free-market economy.

Throughout the 19th century democratic radicalism, as defined above, attracted a larger number of workers than did socialism. That statement would seem to contradict what has just been said. But democratic radicalism can be considered traditionally, to be the ideology of the petty bourgeoisie, lower middle class, or small property owner (to use terms that are loosely synonymous and that can include the small business person, shopkeeper, peasant proprietor, white-collar worker, and independent artisan). The attractions of this ideology for workers in the 19th century can then be attributed to the petty-bourgeois nature of much of the working class at that time. A majority of workers for most of the 19th century in Europe owned, or aspired to own, small amounts of property—their own shops, machinery, and tools. They were not yet proletarianized, were not yet completely without ownership of the means of production, and still believed it possible to prevent the domination of wage-labor and factory production.

Anarchism also often attracted the petty-bourgeois worker. This ideology is even more difficult that the others to categorize with any precision, since it has many branches and since anarchists have taken a certain pleasure in defying attempts to impose on them the tyranny of a definition. Our first resort, as before, must be to look at the etymology of the word: an-archos in Greek means “no leader,” or, more loosely, “without authority.” The heart of the anarchists’ concern has been to oppose authority, again out of a longing for liberation.

In practice, the authority of the state, although only one of the many varieties of authority repugnant to anarchists, has been the object of their most concentrated hatred. This has been the case because they have seen in the state the origin and bulwark of a panorama of social ills, mostly related to the existence of a society of exploitation and social inequality. The state protects large accumulations of private property and the unjustly acquired goods of the exploiting classes. Anarchists therefore maintain that only with the abolition of the state and its means of repression (police, army, bureaucracy, law courts) will an end come to exploitation and to gross inequality in the distribution of wealth and property.

Anarchists have been frequent opponents of socialists, particularly of those authoritarian collectivists who believe in the central and necessary role of the state in building socialism. But their quarrels have been more like family quarrels, whereas their hostility to the ruling orders, in particular to wealthy bourgeois liberals, has been more fundamental and intense. For this reason anarchism is considered by the author, Lindemann, a variety of socialism, generically defined. This is consistent with the preference of most anarchists, many of whom call themselves “libertarian socialists” or “communists”.

The term “communism” was coined somewhat earlier than “socialism”, but in the course of the 19th century it was used, first and foremost, to describe a thoroughgoing egalitarianism and collectivism (and thus was ostensibly embraced by the most desperately poor and exploited workers). Secondly—with much less consistency and consensus—it implied a taste for violence. Marx chose to call himself a communist in the late 1840’s in order to differentiate his hard-headed, “scientific”, theories from the pipe dreams of what he called “utopian socialism”. This term fell into relative disuse in the late 19th century, when it was used mostly by certain anarchists, but during the 1st World War Lenin revived it in order to distinguish his brand of elitist Marxism from what he considered the sell-out Marxism of the leaders of the main socialist parties of the time. Both Marx and Lenin also used the term “communist” on a more speculative level to describe the ultimate society, which would come after an initial imperfect “socialist” society.

Aside from nationalism, which did not concern itself directly with the social question, socialism, liberalism, and conservatism may be considered the main ideologies of the 19th century. They are best understood not in isolation but in relationship to one another. Indeed, one of the easiest and least equivocal ways of defining them is in their vision of the “enemy”. Liberals in the early 19th century first distinguished themselves by their attacks on conservatives, on the latter’s political and social pre-eminence, based on an “unfair” and irrational privilege. Later, liberals would begin to focus more on the challenge to individual freedom that they believed was posed by socialists. Similarly, as we have noted, socialism first appeared as an attack on liberal individualism, especially insofar as it was used to defend the emerging capitalist system. Above all, socialism was a critical response to early industrial capitalism, to an unregulated market economy in which the means of production were privately owned and propertyless workers were forced to sell their labor power to capitalists for often meager wages. Ironically, the actual practice of socialism on the state level was begun by Otto von Bismarck who invented the modern welfare (nanny) state in 1871 to gain the support of the working class to lure them away from the “socialists”.

More historical explorations are coming. Stay tuned.

Sources: A History of European Socialism by Albert S. Lindemann

Shorter Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward Craig

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otto_von_Bismarck

Defining Liberalism

Words have histories and often change meaning, sometimes drastically, over time. The term “liberal” would probably make a good “Exhibit A” if you wanted to make a case for words that seem to have evolved into their own antonyms (opposites) over time. I decided to explore the formal political-philosophical category of “liberalism” to shed light on “liberal” semantically. I consulted the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary’s definition of liberalism:

1) the quality or state of being liberal as: (a) lack of strictness or rigor, (b) broad-mindedness, open-mindedness; (2) a movement in modern Protestantism emphasizing intellectual liberty and the spiritual and ethical content of Christianity; (3) a theory in economics emphasizing individual freedom from restraint esp. by government regulation in all economic activity and usu. based upon free competition, the self-regulating market, and the gold standard; (4) a political philosophy based on belief in progress, the essential goodness of man, and the autonomy of the individual and standing for tolerance and freedom of the individual from arbitrary authority in all spheres of life esp. by the protection of political and civil liberties and for government under law with the consent of the governed; (5) an attitude or philosophy favoring individual freedom for self-development and self-expression

One way to give some kind of clarity to these many meanings is to dichotomize liberalism as follows:

1) Classical liberalism: a political ideology, a branch of liberalism which advocates civil liberties and political freedom with representative democracy under the rule of law and emphasizes economic freedom. Classical liberalism developed in the 19th century in Europe and the United States. Although classical liberalism built on ideas that had already developed by the end of the 18th century, it advocated a specific kind of society, government and public policy as a response to the Industrial Revolution and urbanization. Notable individuals whose ideas have contributed to classical liberalism include John Locke, Jean-Baptiste Say, Thomas Malthus and David Ricardo. It drew on the economics of Adam Smith and on a belief in natural law, utilitarianismand progress.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Classical_liberalism

2) Social liberalism: a political ideology that seeks to find a balance between individual liberty and social justice like classical liberalism, social liberalism endorses a market economy and the expansion of civil and political rights and liberties, but differs in that it believes the legitimate role of the government includes addressing economic and social issues such as poverty, health care and education. Under social liberalism, the good of the community is viewed as harmonious with the freedom of the individual. Social liberal policies have been widely adopted in much of the capitalist world, particularly following World War II. Social liberal ideas and parties tend to be considered centrist or center-left. The term social liberalism is used to differentiate it from classical liberalism, which dominated political and economic thought for several centuries until social liberalism branched off from it around the Great Depression.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_liberalism

Actually social liberalism branched off way before the Great Depression and this branching off happened in Great Britain and was done by “new liberals” long before Franklin Delano Roosevelt and the Great Depression came along. Wikipedia’s entry on social liberalism goes on to note the historical change in Great Britain:

In the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century, a group of British thinkers, known as the New Liberals, made a case against laissez-faire classical liberalism and argued in favor of state intervention in social, economic, and cultural life. The New Liberals, which included intellectuals like T. H. Green, L. T. Hobhouse, and John A. Hobson, saw individual liberty as something achievable only under favorable social and economic circumstances. In their view, the poverty, squalor and ignorance in which many people lived made it impossible for freedom and individuality to flourish. New Liberals believed that these conditions could be ameliorated only through collective action coordinated by a strong, welfare-oriented and interventionist state.

I say history provides lessons showing us why words change meaning. The effects of the industrial revolution where workers worked in abusive horrific conditions illustrated that the “liberty” of the capitalist factory or mine owner was at the expense of the liberty of the laborers being abused. The world of industrial capitalism was vastly different from the predominantly agrarian world conceived of by classical liberals and populated by yeoman farmers, shopkeepers, artisans, and small businesses. John D. Rockefeller and his Robber Baron cohorts had new notions of “personal liberty” far beyond the ideas of classical liberals like John Locke or Thomas Jefferson.

 

 

Jefferson and Hamilton, Part III: The Prevalance of Partisanship, The Elusiveness of Objectivity

Recap: The rivalry between Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton was important enough to cause political parties to be formed in spite of the fact that these were considered “factions” at that time, a sign of grown men not being able to come together, govern, and get things done. The larger issue that engulfs the rivalry issue is the fact that partisan bias and historical revisionism afflict just about every biography written for either founding father. Yet another issue is how current American culture or “pop culture” views these men and how that influences a study of them and their rivalry. Any essay, article, or book on either of these American icons has to be decoded for partisan bias, historical revisionism, and pop culture clichés in the elusive search for “objective truth”.

Thomas Jefferson is the beneficiary of being the hero of American libertarians, fans of “limited government”, and this adoration augments an already much loved icon. Nevertheless, Hamilton is greatly admired by many biographers, such as Ron Chernow, and Darren Staloff. Chernow puts Hamilton on a pedestal while trashing Jefferson and his republican cohorts: “Washington’s first term was devoted largely to the economic matters in which Hamilton excelled and Woodrow Wilson justly observed  that ‘we think of Mr. Hamilton rather than of President Washington when we look back to the policy of the first administration’. Hamilton had a storehouse of information that nobody else could match. Since the ‘science’ of finance was new to America, Fisher Ames observed, ‘A gentleman may therefore propose the worst of measures with the best of intentions’. Among the well-intentioned men who were woefully backward in finance, if forward-looking in politics, were Hamilton’s three most savage critics of the 1790’s: Jefferson, Madison, and Adams. These founders adhered to a static. archaic worldview that scorned banks, credit, and stock markets. From this perspective, Hamilton was the progressive of the era, his critics the conservatives”.  Contrast this assessment with Jefferson’s affiliation with the classical liberalism of John Locke and Adam Smith and you have a founding father considered a “liberal” by some and a “conservative” by at least one author.

Partisan spin aside, the basic facts and accomplishments of Hamilton are the quintessential “rags to riches” story:

When Alexander Hamilton was 10, his father abandoned him. When he was around 12, his mother died of a fever in the bed next to his. He was adopted by a cousin, who promptly committed suicide. During those same years, his aunt, uncle and grandmother also died. A court in St. Croix seized all of his possessions, sold off his personal effects and gave the rest to his mother’s first husband. By the time he was a young teenager, he and his brother were orphaned, alone and destitute.

Within three years he was a successful businessman. Within a decade he was effectively George Washington’s chief of staff, organizing the American revolutionary army and serving bravely in combat. Within two decades he was one of New York’s most successful lawyers and had written major portions of The Federalist Papers. Within three decades he had served as Treasury secretary and forged the modern financial and economic systems that are the basis for American might today. Within five decades he was dead at the hands of Aaron Burr.

Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/04/25/books/creating-capitalism.html

Darren Staloff, author of Hamilton, Adams, and Jefferson: The Politics of Enlightenment and the American Founding, has stellar praise for Hamilton:

“By almost any measure, Alexander Hamilton was the most important figure in the founding of the American republic. Soldier, statesman, legislator, constitutional theorist, political polemicist, and national administrator, Hamilton combined all the roles that were vital to American nation building. His vision of a strong  federal government with an independent judiciary and a vigorous executive has become second nature to most Americans. His goal of state-supported industrial and commercial development and modernization is the unstated desideratum of every successful American political movement in the last century. Indeed, in terms of political and economic practice, it is fair to say we are all Hamiltonians, whether Democrats or Republicans, progressives or conservatives, radicals or reactionaries.”

Staloff also notes that “Hamilton is perhaps the least loved founding father. No national or state holiday celebrates his life. No memorial commemorates his contributions to American life and ideals. His words are rarely quoted by politicians, and his writings are even less frequently cited by pundits. But for the ten-dollar bill, his face would be utterly unknown to the American people. Washington became the father of his nation, and Jefferson its most beloved spokesman. Hamilton has become its bastard, unrecognized and somehow illegitimate in the public mind. Various causes have been offered, such as Jefferson and his republican cohorts piling on condemnation, depicting him as an “embryo-Caesar” and a tool of the plutocratic elites. In this century, politicians of both parties—and writers sympathetic to them—have adopted Jefferson as their guiding light among among the founding generation. On both left and right, there have been few willing to defend the ambitious New Yorker. Progressive novelist John Dos Passos described him as a crypto-Napoleon who “consolidated property interests” and “inaugurated the authoritarian trend”

American libertarians, such as Thomas DiLorenzo find that Hamilton cursed the United States with an augmented federal government.

Hamilton’s Curse: How Jefferson’s Arch Enemy Betrayed the American Revolution–and What It Means For Americans Today

“Jefferson’s ideas have been entirely marginalized, while those of his arch rival Hamilton now form the backbone of the American political establishment. The Revolution of 1776 was a Jeffersonian Revolution to throw off the yoke of British mercantilist imperialism and install it its place a voluntary union of free and independent states. Hamilton and his acolytes, however — no matter how bravely and earnestly they fought against the Red Coats — wanted to import British mercantilism to America with the U.S. aristocracy (Hamilton and his Federalist buddies) on the receiving end of the mercantilist spoils system.” In fact, DiLorenzo argues that the Constitution itself was a virtual coup against the free republic of the Articles of Confederation for the purpose of increasing the authority of the central government — key to Hamilton’s plans.

It is worth noting that the same Darren Staloff who says Hamilton was the most important figure in America’s founding as a republic has also painted a rosy portrait of Jefferson, who was “much more than simply a revolutionary statesman and political theorist. The American Da Vinci, he truly was the universal man idealized by the Renaissance. The breadth of his mind was stunning, his intellectual appetite canine and omnivorous. In addition to political philosophy, Jefferson read widely in metaphysics, epistemology, and moral and aesthetic philosophy. One of the few early Americans who could actually do the calculus associated with Newton’s mechanics, he was an avid student of the sciences, conversant with the most recent developments in chemistry, biology, zoology, and botany, and he had more than a passing interest in meteorology. Widely read in classical and modern history, he was equally fascinated by the emerging sciences of political economy and sociology and proved himself a fairly accomplished amateur anthropologist. A devoted philologist, Jefferson’s expertise spanned both classical and modern Romance languages, and he devoted considerable study to the languages of the Amerindians and medieval Anglo-Saxons. An accomplished draftsman and violinist, he was a devotee of the theater and opera, a knowledgeable collector of artifacts, paintings, and statuary, and the greatest architectural genius of the early republic. Quite simply, Thomas Jefferson thought about more in one week than occurs to us mere mortals in a year. He was indeed an “extraordinary collection of talents.”

Biographer Joseph J. Ellis, whose American Sphinx: The Character of Thomas Jefferson won the 1997 National Book Award for Nonfiction, has a unique way of trying to twist Jefferson’s psychological abnormalities into political virtue:  “Given the political framework created by the constitutional settlement of 1788, which made the establishment of an ongoing political dialogue of some sort inevitable, and given the stigma that surrounded organized political parties, a premium was put on a distinctive form of intelligence that could adroitly navigate between the two imperatives. Crudely put, this meant creating a political party while claiming, in all sincerity, that you were doing nothing of the sort. As it turned out, this was a talent that Jefferson possessed in abundance. At certain points in the story the distinction between Jefferson’s genuine self-deception and outright duplicity is impossible to identify with any certainty. Putting the best face on his multiple misrepresentations arose it seems from the visceral urge to avoid all explicit forms of conflict. Biographer Dumas Malone found that Jefferson’s “boldness of mind was sheathed in a scabbard of politeness…. It would have been surprising if such a man did not occasionally cross the thin line between courtesy and deception”. Ellis manages to conclude that Jefferson’s mental abnormalities were also “mental agility” that enabled him to leap over the huge obstacles of the political culture of his time. Only a man with a psychological multiplicity “… who is accustomed to negotiating his many-chambered personality, playing hide-and-seek within himself, was psychologically prepared to function this modern world of party politics.”

Jon Meacham wrote his best-selling biography, Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power in 2012, and advocates for Jefferson’s mixture of ideals and pragmatism without getting into American libertarian-style partisanship. Meacham attempts to mediate between partisan distortions of the great man and portray his greatness.

The historical tendency persists in encapsulating the competing traditions of the early American republic as a contest between Jefferson and Hamilton. For partisans of each man, it was then and has been ever since–convenient to caricature the other, with Hamilton as the scheming proto-Brit bent on monarchy and Jefferson as the naive proto-Frenchman intoxicated by visions of excessive democracy. Inevitably, such shorthand is incomplete. In the first hours of the decade and sporadically throughout, Jefferson sometimes found himself in agreement with Hamilton and sometimes with Washington or Adams. He was a working politician and diplomat who believed in an effective central government and was able himself to assert political power having been the governor of Virginia and experienced the years of the Articles of Confederation.

“There was, however, a foundational point on which Jefferson never compromised: a conviction that drove much of his political life from 1790 until his death. He feared monarchy or dictatorship, which is different from fearing a strong national government, though Jefferson is often thought to have believed them the same thing. One of the terms he used to describe his opponents—“Monocrats”—is telling, for the word means government by the one.”

“Jefferson fretted over the prospect of the return of a king in some form, either as an immensely powerful president unchecked by the Constitution of 1787 or in a more explicitly monarchical or dictatorial role. He did not oppose the wielding of power. He was a good-hearted, fair-minded student of how best to accumulate and use it. In romantic moments, he dreamed of a future of virtuous yeomen living in harmony. In realistic ones, he suspected the America of which he was an architect could be yet another short-lived chapter in the story of the tyranny of the few over the many. ‘We were educated in royalism: no wonder if some of us retain that idolatry still, ‘ Jefferson had once written to Madison.”

“The Jefferson of the cabinet, vice presidency, and presidency can be best understood by recalling that his passion for the people and his regard for republicanism belonged to a man who believed that there were forces afoot–forces visible and invisble, domestic and foreign–that sought to undermine the rights of man by re-establishing the role of priests, nobles, and kings. His opposition to John Adams and Alexander Hamilton, to the British and to the financial speculators, grew out of this fundamental concern.”

“Like significant politicians before and after him, Jefferson was devoted to an overarching vision, but governed according to circumstance. Committed to the broad republican creed, supported by allies in politics and in the public who believed him to be an unshakable advocate of liberty under the law, Jefferson felt himself free to maneuver in matters of detail. Where some saw hypocrisy, others saw political agility. As long as a political leader has some core strategic belief, which Jefferson did in the form of republicanism, then tactical flexibility can be a virtue. Even Alexander Hamilton recognized his commitment to the nation, no matter how deeply the two disagreed about the means: “To my mind, a true estimate of Mr J’s character warrants the expectation of a temporizing rather than a violent system”, said Hamilton in 1801. Even implacable foes such as the federalists and republicans agreed and cooperated from time to time, and who even in their hours of starkest hostility, served in the same cabinet, dined at the same tables, and moved through the same intimate American world of the late 18th century. Wars are indeed often fought between brothers. Jefferson’s decade of struggle with the Federalists shows there can can be no more brutal or bewildering battles than those that divide a family against itself.

The two factions or political parties are attached to two founding fathers who had different views as to what the United States was and how it was to be governed. Which side won? Both did. The two regions, north and south, represented respectively by Federalism and Republicanism, were enabled to function as they wished. Jefferson and Madison were both slave-owning planters representing Virginia and its mode of production, slave labor. Without saying directly they wanted to continue benefiting from slavery they railed against the money-men and stock-jobbers who wanted to impose federal tyranny over their way of life and livelihood.  Essentially, the Constitution provided for planters whose “property” of slaves each counted as 3/5 of a person. Therefore, their “property” gave them the representation in government they desired. Hamilton, the “tyrannical capitalist” was essentially setting up a mercantilist United States to promote trade and manufacturing. For him, the victory was that the United States could grow into a powerful nation as had Britain, whose model of global imperialism and mercantilism he studied. Historians focus on how Hamilton and the Federalists won in the 1790’s over Jefferson and Madison, the Republicans, and the tide turned in 1800, when Jefferson became president. Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe served 24 years as Democratic-Republicans. By 1818 the Democratic-Republicans had become the only active national party, yet its leaders incorporated major economic policies that had been favored by Federalists since the time of Alexander Hamilton. President Monroe continued the policies begun by Madison at the end of his presidency to build an American System of national economic development. These policies had three basic aspects: a national bank, protective tariffs to support American manufactures, and federally-funded internal improvements. Madison actually charted the Second Bank of the United States in 1816 and his successor, Monroe, is noted for presiding over “The Era of Good Feelings”. Essentially what happened is the one dominant party, The Democratic-Republican absorbed the Federalist party’s policies.

http://www.ushistory.org/us/23a.asp

The Jefferson-Hamilton rivalry was based on the two different ways of life and two different economies for the north and south in the aftermath of achieving independence from Britain. In a sense, both sides won, except for the slaves of course. Both sides fought to interpret the Constitution in terms of their regional needs. The United States was and never has been a perfectly homogeneous nation.