Humankind is a brotherhood of sorts, we cannot deny it; but millennia of human evolution have rendered us into separate subraces, nations, ethnicities and peoples, with separate histories and cultures. The recent and artificial forcing together of these nations has seen destructive results: terrorism, a breakdown of social cohesion and the persecution of the dissenters, all in the name of a false conception of ‘liberty’. This is revolution, merely wearing the mask of ‘progressive reform’.
When faced with deceptive forms of revolution such as this, conservatives are obliged to engage in counterrevolution of the same kind. When institutions are threatened, it is not because the destructive forces of revolution wish to reform them; it is simply because, in the spirit of thinkers such as Godwin, they wish to destroy them. Revolution founded in the destructive spirit of radicalism, such as the French revolution, seeks only to further an immoral agenda: the agenda of control realised in the terrors of undemocratic revolutionary leaders like Robespierre and Lenin. Revolution should not be allowed to destroy what was given to us for the purposes of creating a better society. Revolution is only justified when it is necessary to protect those virtuous means which we have inherited.
Revolution and counterrevolution are tools: they are to be used only in the direst of situations, when the values and institutions of society are threatened to the point of destruction. We should be cautious to bring about revolution, be it armed in the manner of the previous age or be it institutional in the manner of the Frankfurt School, but we should not be afraid to engage in it if the liberty and security of society will be lost through inaction.
Chapter X
Instituting Reform
Placing the anarchist left’s naively optimistic hopes for individual governance based entirely on the power of human reason aside, let us consider the aftermath of a revolution. How should a force which has recently toppled its own government go about setting up a new administration?
This of course presents difficulties, considering that there will be those who seek differing political ideologies to be furthered upon the institution of the new government. However, if, like at the time of the American Revolution, a pre-existing set of principles has been agreed to, a constitutional convention should have enough to work with. A new legislature elected to rebuild government following a revolutionary phase should have this agreement in mind and consider the faults of the previous administration which has been displaced. First and foremost, when rolling back the crimes of the previous administration, a new legislature should look back at the history of the nation it has found itself governing. Starting from a completely blank slate, with a brand-new plan which has not yet been tried and tested by centuries of political discourse, is highly dangerous. New plans must be selected based on the ancestral history of political society in the nation in question.
Let us imagine society as a house: after a revolution, the house has been shelled, and only a skeleton of its former foundations remains as a result of the destructive nature of political struggle. We are faced with two options: either we use the most structurally integral parts of a plan used by those who built houses before us — not perfect houses perhaps, but they were able to stand, and lasted for a long time. The other option is to use a brand-new plan for a house which has never been built before, and whilst it is new, original and looks appealing, it carries the risk of falling down in the first few days after construction. A ‘rational being’, as Godwin so often likes to call human beings, would surely choose the option which is guaranteed to build a stable house, even if some nuances are changed to ensure that it will not need to be shelled by the destructive forces of revolution again. Philosophers like Godwin, and other radicals who have followed in his wake such as Marxists and New Leftists, would have us choose the second option to create an abstract ‘utopia’ which is not only impractical but also lacking in any meaningful virtue or selflessness. It is impossible to have a selfless society where the state is in control of economic and social direction, since central control is by nature selfish. The state will always prioritise its own needs over those of society at large, and all sense of a greater good that virtuous individuals might offer in a cohesive society is lost.
Finally, we shall consider one problem which has troubled revolutionaries from the time of the Roman Empire to the present day — what to do with the tyrant or tyrants once the revolution is one? How should corrupt individuals be punished for their role in perverting government into a vicious organisation of self-interested oppressors?
Tyrannicide has its origins in the ancient world; the phrase of Brutus at the murder of Caesar sic semper tyrannis15 is often quoted by freedom fighters, and features in some of the flags of the original Thirteen Colonies of the United States. Even following the toppling of the National Socialist regime in Germany, its key figures were executed for the role they played in the oppression of Europe and the war crimes they committed. But is tyrannicide justifiable in a virtuous society? Why should a revolutionary government, which would ideally just have fought to topple a government which lacked virtue, lower itself to the level of those virtueless members of the previous establishment by committing the sin of murder when it was wholly unnecessary? Tyrants not killed in the course of a revolutionary war must be brought to justice before a court of law to answer for their crimes against the people, and if we apply the moral code we established in Book II, then we cannot justify murdering them for the sake of making a revolutionary point. Since we must always follow the path of virtue and maintain the moral high ground, the best place for tyrants is either in a prison cell, or, since due to their crimes against the people’s rights, they would have proved themselves unworthy of participating in a society which extols complete liberty and justice, they should be sent into exile and not permitted to return to the society they corrupted. This allows the new government to prove its superior virtue to the previous one, whilst still punishing the perpetrators for their wrongdoing. It may also help to prevent the outrage of those who may be sympathetic to the tyrants, who may treat their death as a sign that the new government is no better, and should be opposed by means of yet more civil anger.
In some constitutions, such as that of Revolutionary France, where the King was fairly detached from his people and most of the wrongdoing was undertaken by his ministers, it becomes clear that sometimes the ceremonial head of state should not be the object of the revolutionaries’ anger. King Louis XVI was executed to make a statement — to mark the end of the Bourbon rule of France — but in reality, the man was still fairly popular with his people and would happily have lived as a private citizen under the laws of the republic had he been allowed. It is important, once revolution has just been undertaken, to remember that there may be those seeking to displace the new regime with one sympathetic to their own agenda. Those who executed the French King did this, for they only wished to clear the way for their own tyranny. Where a member of the previous regime cannot be blamed for the shortcomings of his government, he should be allowed to enjoy his liberty as a private citizen under the new government, where perhaps he may offer some old virtues to the new order by means of his experience.
When instituting reform in a nation which has just been through some turmoil, be it violent or institutional, it is important to ensure that the national goals which triggered the previous upheaval are fulfilled. Those who are still alive who are culpable of some wrongdoing must be punished in the due legal process, as their rights in a moral society permit them to be, and those who are not culpable should be allowed a chance to live in the new society. It is never preferable to rush to conclusions or to listen to the demands of an angry mob, no matter how mistreated they may have been. If the only justification for revolution is the reinstatement of a virtuous society, then the vicious acts of the previous government must not be the only things to be removed; the immoral attitudes it held must be removed along with it. Moral goodness must be the watchword of any reform, whether initiated through
violence or through peaceful means.
Book IV.
Legislative and Executive Power
Chapter I
Introduction
Up until now, we have spent most of our discussion in this book presenting an alternative moral view to that of leftists and anarchists based on Mr Godwin’s own structure. Now that we have a definitive moral code to work with, we know what the purpose of government should be and when it is and is not justified; we can begin to consider the practical details of political institutions rather than mere generalisations. We should remember that government is not an evil in itself, but it certainly has the potential to be when reviewing the following topics.
We shall consider the sort of people who do run and should run government administration, the sort of moral and social culture that those in government operate best under, the interaction between these people and the people of a nation, the forces that adversely affect institutions and control that legislative and executive power can exert over a society, what good it can do and how best it can shape virtue into providing a state of continuous moral improvement for society as a whole. Concerning executive power, we must consider how powers are balanced between a head of state, a head of government, and the ministers who oversee the various roles of the executive. In terms of legislative power, we must explore the value of law and deliberation — how to avoid the interests of partisanship and how to focus legislation purely on moral ends. Justice is merely a means of upholding the law which legislature passes, and since we have already laid out a system of virtue which governs moral justice, we may assume that a virtuous judicial system would always have the good of the community as a whole and the selflessness of action in mind when passing judgement in matters of law.
We have also already established the principle of the inequality of man, so therefore we may assume that there will always be a system of elites who are more inclined to move their way up a meritocratic system into the echelons of government. Of course, as we have already discussed, it is perfectly possible for elitism to be a force for good, and so we may consider the elites who work their way into the higher levels of statehood to be of either good or bad stock. Either way, elites of some description will be the ones in government, and we shall consider the moral construction of these elites, how they ought to be selected and how they ought to exert political power. Whether we call our system monarchy, aristocracy or republic, there will always be elites; in a virtuous society, our sole task is to find a way in which the elites can act in the most moral way for the benefit of the non-elites as well as their fellows, rather than trying to obliterate elitism altogether.
We shall discover, over the course of this division of our discussion, that monarchy, aristocracy and democracy are not actually at odds but wholly capable of cooperation, and in fact require cooperation from each other in order to create the most virtuous of governments.
Chapter II
Education of the Elite
We shall first consider hereditary government, or at least the concept of having hereditary members of government such as in a monarchy or aristocratic system, where certain individuals can be rewarded with certain privileges which grant them a special place in society or government.
The education of monarchs and sons of laws has been seen as elitist in the worst possible sense because of the attitude prevailing among many members of these classes over the centuries, which has been described as the ‘[divine] right to rule’, a concept which places the ‘upper classes’ on another plain above the rest of society purely by nature of their birth, and affords them more rights over the rest of society because a certain ancestor was appointed to a certain position by a certain monarch, who derives their legitimacy from God. This sort of attitude, however, is not inherent in human nature, and cannot be inherent in hereditary nobles purely because they are part of some sort of nobility. This sort of attitude is derived from upbringing and education. If the sort of attitude described above is prevalent among certain elite classes, then self-interest, caprice and a general lack of appreciation for the good of the community will be seen in their actions, which is of course to be avoided in a virtuous society.
When the elite are elevated to certain positions for whatever action it is they have undertaken, they would do well to remember that the mere fact that they have been elevated does not make them superior human beings. It may afford them more respect, but it does not make them more valuable members of the community. If the philosopher is just as important as the bricklayer, then a non-elite is just as a valuable as an elite. Whilst it is perfectly possible for anti-elite sentiments to be fostered by provocateurs among mainstream society, it is equally possible for the elite to develop haughty and anti-non-elite sentiments on account of their privilege. The task that every virtuous monarch and elite faces therefore is the education of their hereditary successors in the same magnanimous and virtuous ways as they, in order that the same spirit which inspired the great deeds which afforded them their position might be carried on. An elite need not be humble, but he should be modest and respectful of those below him, since if those below him did not exist, he would not be in the position which he finds himself in.
There should be an understanding amongst the elite when brought up in the privileged environments in which they live, that they did not come into their position originally by nature of birth, but by nature of reward, and rewards can be just as easily removed by authority as they can be dished out. There should also be an understanding between the elites and their sons and daughters that the offspring of elites do not share the same experience as their elders. Many on the left believe that hereditary privilege ought to be abolished as a result of this, but to obliterate tradition so hastily is not often best for a community. If virtuous men are to be given the gift of privilege, then they must educate their heirs to realise that they have not performed the same deeds as them and must work for the same respect that they have earned. Having a title which indicates the parenthood of a virtuous man does not convey virtue on the bearer of the title. If the father can pass on virtue to the son, he may perform great deeds and earn the same respect as his parents had; if by contrast he is immoral and unworthy of the title, there should always be the risk of such privilege’s removal for conference upon a greater person.
The education of an elite in matters of virtue, or the history of his ancestors which afforded him his position, does not afford him anything more than the respect and privileges of that respect that a certain status affords him. Elites should remember that they have no more legal rights than the common citizen. In a just society, those who have a history of virtue and continue to inherit such moral qualities ought to be rewarded, but reward does not amount to preferential treatment under the law. Nor should they have sole control over making the law, though of course they should have a say in making it, a system which worked well in Britain (as discussed in the previous Book) before the expulsion of the aristocracy from the House of Lords in 1999. Equality before the law is necessary in any just system, since whether it is an elite or a non-elite who commits a crime, the resulting label is still the same for both: they still sully themselves with the sinful title of ‘criminal’.
Any sort of elitism which may come to hold power in a political system should adhere to certain precepts which prevent a misuse of the privilege which we may use for virtue. There should be a deep-held consideration that value is inherently attached to the status of an elite, and value is only added to something when it is in demand. There is demand today for virtuous actions, which would surely indicate a paucity of elites who convey virtue through their actions in society. It should be in the interests of the elite to value selflessness and charity, since their position of respect in society provides a centre towards which those outside of the centre can aspire to move towards. That is to say, if the most respectful members of society are virtuous ones, because they are selfless, because they work for the improvement of others out of the compassion of the
ir own hearts, those who are not yet in that circle may aspire to join it and so pursue virtuous actions of their own. Thus is a cycle of virtue perpetuated through the whole of society more easily.
In terms of the power of a monarch, we reach a question of the extent of power. The British system works well, since the monarch forms a rallying point for the traditional and historical awareness of the citizens of Britain yet has limited constitutional powers. The natural impartiality of the monarchs and their waiving the right to participate in mainstream politics ensure that politically interested establishment are kept out of the highest office of state, and the monarchs may exact their constitutional duties without political bias. So long as this attitude of impartiality is carried down the generations, the monarchs can provide a stable base for handing power down to executive government, whilst serving as an important reminder of natural inequality of man and the necessity of a layered society. It goes without saying that in republics where the head of state is elected, such as the United States, the system remains akin to monarchy, merely with the exception that the monarch is chosen directly by the people and has a limited term of office. This system, whilst it can work in a similar war to hereditary monarchy, is more open to partisanship, since the elected ‘monarch’ is often associated with an organised political group with certain interests attached to it. As we shall learn later, partisanship is often the swiftest path to political injustice in the exercise of governmental power.
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