He dedicates his book: "For my father, who kept the faith." Neat.
The author's purpose for this book is to refute the "The Liberal History Lesson" (title of chapter 1), which goes something like this:
Our religion and our liberty have always been in conflict. Freedom, democracy and intellectual inquiry flourished in the pagan era, only to be crushed in the Christian Middle Ages. This regime of clerical oppression ended when humanist scholars of the Renaissance and Enlightenment threw off the shackles of religion, rediscovered the learning of the ancients and set modernity on the path to freedom. A regime of liberty therefore requires a secularist, anticlerical view of religious questions. American history is a subset of this larger teaching. Our founding fathers were devotees of the Enlightenment, hostile or skeptical toward ideas of religion, and were radicals who overthrew established institutions, broke with the past and gave expression to Enlightenment notions in declaring independence from Great Britain. Thereafter, in the Constitution and Bill of Rights, they carefully guarded the workings of political society from the influence of religion. Our break with England and constitional founding are therefore cognates to the French Revolution; a venture in radical innovation, rejecting the authority of religious faith, basing the new republic on secular assumptions (15-16).
Since this view holds religion to be hostile to personal freedom and conservatives are mostly religious, it is alleged that such common attributes of conservative thought as belief in moral absolutes, adherence to the long traditions of Judaic and Christian teaching and a pessimistic view of human nature translate into authoritarian practice. Conversely, notions of individual freedom are said to have an irreligious or at least a nonreligious basis: skepticism about moral absolutes, a rationalist approach to social problems and an optimistic view of human nature are considered essential features of a libertarian outlook (11).
Another aspect of this myth is that America's founders in the 18th century were "philosphes and secularists" and created our republic on this basis. In this view, the religious ideas of the early Puritans were, at best, irrelevant, to our ideas of freedom. Evans shows that the opposite is true. The founders stuck with ideas drawn from religion and tradition and explicitly rejected the revolutionary radicalism inherent in the French Revolution. Along this line, the conflict is more accurately called the war for independence than the revolutionary war (33-4). He goes on, "indeed, the hardest thing to discover in the annals of our founding is the type of hostility toward Christian faith that would prevail in revolutionary France. Even Jefferson, often cited as a philosophe and secularist, believed that freedom was grounded in religion. 'Can the liberties of a nation be thought secure,' he asked, 'when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the gift of God?'" (35).
The author notes the irony that modern liberals, who are themselves the heirs of the Enlightenment, promote this theory that the secret to freedom is throwing off religion (and tradition). Exactly the opposite is true; religion (and religion-based tradition) is what limits government (in theory, and historically), while Enlightenment rationalism has lead them to promote practically unlimited centralized government power. The basic notion of this incorrect revisionist history lesson is the "supposed clash between religious precept and the practices of freedom."
Notwithstanding the above misguided reinterpretation of history, which is constantly repeated by the left and even by some on the right, the author's stated project in this book is to show that "there is a strong conservative tradition in the United States, rooted in the still longer tradition of our English forbears, and more broadly speaking in two millennia of Western culture. The key political insight of this tradition is, precisely, the idea of imposing limits on governmental power, in the interests of protecting freedom - a doctrine that became the core and essence of American theory at the epoch of our founding." One important conclusion is that our founding fathers were conservatives, anxious to preserve existing institutions, and decidedly not radical revolutionaries (in stark contrast to the leaders of the French Revolution, which was thoroughly an Enlightenment project).
The author, in the first chapter, promises to explain how the term "liberalism" migrated from describing a creed of freedom to an idealogy extoling the concentration and use of top-down power. After a sequence of passages highlighting the confusions of both modern liberals and even some modern conservatives about the meaning of conservatism, the author states several interesting proclamations, which it shall be his purpose to demonstrate in the remainder of the book.
1) Libertarian statecraft has a long and honorable pedigree in the religious/cultural history of the West.
2) This libertarian view, at all stops along the way, has been dependent on religious values and traditional practice for its survival.
The author believes conservatives are the ones to press this case today, since "skepticism about moral absolutes, a rationalist approach to social problems and an optimistic view of human nature are considered essential features [i.e. dogmas] of a libertarian outlook" (although the author's positive use of the term 'libertarian' indicates he doesn't share this view). He believes the traditionalist v. libertarian debate is a false one, with both camps being important parts of true conservatism and not contradictory [probably a leftist attempt to 'divide and conquer'].
Given modern liberals' love of centralized power and social engineering, the author notes that it should be the conservatives to press the case for true liberty. But he notes that, even there, confusion exists. "Most notably, there is a school of thought suggesting that American conservatism isn't, or shouldn't be, the party of individual freedom. Such notions, it is contended, are really a form of "classical liberalism," dating back to the 18th and 19th centuries, and have nothing to do with conservative theory. In this analysis, conservatism is a creed of virtue, order, hierarchy and tradition, stressing the need for moral authority in the state. These ideas, supposedly, run counter to notions of free markets, limits on official power and letting people make their own decisions (11). The author sets out to show not only that conservative doctrine on the relationships between religion, tradition and liberty are compatible with free institutions (indeed, essential to them), but also that, conversely, secular liberal notions that supposedly conduce to liberty actually do the reverse, and must in the end be lethal to our freedoms" (18).
In chapter 2 ("In Search of Freedom"), the author points out the scarcity of freedom in history, reminding us that "we find it in a narrow range of times and venues: The continent of Europe, before and after the totalitarians; the United Kingdom and its dominions [Canada, Australia]; and the United States - commonly grouped together as 'the West.' To these have been added in recent years some parts of Latin America and the Pacific rim, and a state or two in Africa [Kenya] - to which ideas of limited government have been to some degree exported. That is the lot" (27). The other key insight is that, historically, Christianity lead to Europe, which then lead to freedom. "That biblical teaching was the formative influence in the creation of Europe, and that Europe was the nursery of freedom as we know it, are both established facts of record" (29, though liberals are actively trying to suppress/spin both facts). Taken separately, they are prosaic and widely accepted, but taken together, they become oddly controversial, since the implication that Christianity = Europe = liberty challenges the central tenet of "The Liberal History Lesson," which is that liberty and religion are opposing forces.
One reviewer noted the fact that Evans focused on the English common law experience more than on continental philosophers in his explanation of how freedom arrived in America (quote review). Evans explains this focus by citing the special relevance of the medieval English experience, it being the proximate source of our ideas and institutions. He goes on to say that "English and continental politics of the Middle Ages had much in common, but differed sharply at the outset of the modern era. On the continent, far from advancing the cause of freedom, Renaissance [i.e. revived 'classical'] ideas of kingship and related institutional changes almost destroyed it. In France and Spain, the chiefly German 'Holy Roman Empire' and the city-states of Italy, neopagan concepts of absolute authority came to the forefront, denying the medieval view that there were, or should be, limits on the secular power. In England alone, the struggle would produce the opposite verdict" (32, i.e. Puritans v. Royalists).
In chapter 3 ("The Age of the Despots"), the author starts by summarizing a cluster of 4 ideas that continue to generate hostility to religious belief in modern thought:
- Religious absolutes by their nature, and the Christian religion in particular, are congenial to oppression.
- Strong belief in anything translates into a desire to impose it on others.
- Religious faith is merely superstition and thus irrelevant.
- Liberty is the offspring of skepticism and irreligion.
He states that these assumptions converge into a central thesis: If belief in religious absolutes implies repression, it follows that denial of such absolutes will lead to freedom. This relativism, he believes, is the beginning of tyranny. Hume's empiricism stated that anything that can't be verified by experimental science must be discarded [i.e. positivism]. This would include any idea of moral absolutes, which are [scientifically] unprovable. This is the origin of scientific relativism. Hume's intellectual descendants are logical positivists, pragmatists and behaviorists (41). The equation of relativism with tolerance, and thus with liberty, is a commonplace of modern wisdom (42). The author discusses the USSR and Nazi Germany during WWII, the [fellow travelling] 60s New Left movement and communist China, North Korea, Vietnam and Cuba of the present to illustrate his main point that relativism is actually strongly linked in practice to totalitarianism, contrary to the popular opposite myth. Along the way, he discusses Nietzsche and his impact on Hitler, Freud, Marx, Engels, Lenin and Stalin (and other would-be tyrants). The key is that relativism leads to the rejection of the significance, dignity and freedom of the individual and idealizes force (i.e. the state) as the arbiter of "right" (might makes right). Interestingly, the modern PC ("Political Correctness") movement shows many of the earmarks of this anti-liberty moral relativism.
In Chapter 4 ("From Champagne to Ditch Water"), the author uses the historical record to illustrate how, contrary to liberal claims, relativist assumptions lead to authoritarian outcomes. He states that the denial of this linkage "has been a chief objective of the modern intellect since the latter part of the 17th century, issuing in ingenious theories that try to develop a case for human freedom or limited government on a strictly rational basis. This has been, in fact, the distinctive feature of liberalism in all its guises, from the Whigs and utilitarians of a bygone era to the welfare staters of our own" (57). These may all be understood as attempts to preserve some aspects of the cultural heritage of the West from "the corrosive effects of relativism and irreligion. In the case of the classical liberal theorists, from Locke to Herbert Spencer, the freedom sought was comprehensive, including property rights and economic liberties. In the case of their modern successors, the idea of economic freedom has long since been discarded, but an attempt has been made to rescue 'civil liberties' from the ruin of all value" (57). Although Locke was himself a Christian, he claimed that man's basic nature can be shown to lead logically to a regime of freedom (i.e. that an appeal to religion is not necessary to make this case). What Locke, Spencer, Mill, Holmes and other classical liberals did was to take "for granted the beliefs and values they inherited from Western culture, imagining that they were not dependent on religious belief for their support" (58). Far from being limited to the political realm, "the extent to which this kind of thinking has occurred in Western intellectual history is remarkable. It applies to philosophy, ethics, human nature, techniques of government, science, economics, and a good deal more. In all these cases, liberal theorists have taken ideas or practices resulting from the distinctive religious [Christian] culture of the West and tried to set them up as self-validating propositions, assuming they could be established solely on an intellectual basis" (59).
As a side note along these lines, Andree Seu (The quiet hijacking, World, 7 Oct 2006, p51) discussed the slippage in Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), founded in the 1930s by Bill Wilson (who got sober through the Calvary Rescue Mission run by Rev. Sam Shoemaker's Episcopal church in NY). In the early days, leaders asked those in crisis 2 questions; "1) Do you believe in God? and 2) Will you get on your knees and pray? And then the man would give his life to Jesus Christ. These were the days when AA's success was 75-93% as opposed to today's rate in the teens." She explains how the "God as you understand Him" slogan was originally a recognition that initial faith in God can be very simple, but has become much too latitudinarian, with AA'ers' 'higher power' these days often things like a dead 2yo, the AA group, a broom, ... She concludes: I don't want to talk trash about AA because its keeping people sober ... because its in the direction of reality, humanistic hijacking [my emphasis, great phrase, book title?] notwithstanding. But keeping people sober for what? To be better at living independently of Christ? To go to hell sober? Give a man a 'Higher Power' and 1 in 10 he'll be sober for a lifetime. Give him Jesus Christ and he'll be sober for a lifetime, and saved for an eternity."
The author shows that rationalist approaches (e.g. utilitarianism) lead to inevitable slippage, beginning as essentially libertarian and free market oriented and ending by supporting increasing levels of state compulsion [sdle illustrates this, with early 20C 'liberals' wondering at the 'chasm' between their ideals and their policies, see br-sdle]. John Stuart Mill, the most famous 19th century liberal of them all, began as an ardent promoter of free markets and the limited state, but later morphed with astonishing ease into a socialist. Even Mill seemed to sense that if everything is relative (which he came to believe was the case), then the principle that "might makes right" will ultimately prevail and freedom, along with all other traditional Western values (or ANY values, for that matter), could no longer be protected. He optimistically believed that Christian values were so deeply rooted in the human consciousness that they could no longer ever really be lost. Holmes also became convinced of relativism, writing to William James, "I can't help preferring champagne to ditch water; I doubt if the universe does" (62, thus the chapter title). Like Mill, Holmes relied optimistically on the "educated sympathy" [moral capital] of the people to dampen the brutality of the inevitable "might makes right" regime.
The historical record of liberalism from their time to our own is replete with examples of inexorable slippage, as liberals have increasingly "embraced the leading features of totalitarian statecraft - a buildup of power in the state, and a correlative devaluation of the individual" (64). Evans cites statements by leading liberals such as John Dewey, Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. and John Kenneth Galbraith that support concentrated power and top-down control of society. Evans sadly admits that, in actual fact, we no longer have a constitutional regime in the USA, but merely one of dominant power, as the question of the hour for any proposed legislation is not 'is it constitutional?', but rather 'do we have the votes?' He notes that the attempts of liberal legalists to claim modern developments as being in line with what the founders intended adds corruption of thought and language to destruction of the law. Although the drift caused by the relativist assumptions of liberalism is more obvious in terms of the resulting buildup of power in the state, Evans also shows evidence of the corresponding loss of value, status and dignity of the individual. He notes that a more recent goal of federal power has been behaviour modification. He discusses the increasing use of public schools as a means of social engineering and also the curious fact that abortion has become THE defining issue of the liberal agenda. "This grim insistence on the right to kill the unborn child, without restraint or pity, no questions asked, suggests the current status of the liberal ethic" (73). He ends the chapter by observing the similarities of modern liberal calls for planned eugenics to those of Hitler, noting starkly that "like effects stem from like causes."
In chapter 5 (The Uses of Tradition), the author begins by noting that while confusion abounds in modern politics, it reached a new low during the 1991 coup attempt by Soviet hardliners when the media referred to these hardliners as "conservatives," thereby emptying the term of all value content. If a conservative is merely one who wants to maintain the de facto power structure, without regard to its rightness, justice or goodness, it ceases to be a useful term. By this definition, the term could apply to anyone wanting to keep their power, no matter how unjust, including communist hardliners, drug lords, mafiosa or dictators. Evans laments that "it is unlikely we shall learn anything worth knowing about the nature of conservatism, or other topics, from people who can describe the most notorious collectivist regime in human history, steeped in atheism and mass murder, as 'conservative'" (76). This confusion is related to the broader charge against conservatism that it seeks merely to conserve tradition, whatever is "long-established, precedented or customary," regardless of its merits, rather than "casting everything up in the scales of reason," as the liberals urge. The conservative response should be to acknowledge the variety of the world's traditions available for consideration and affirm the importance of judging their merits (in theory and especially in practice), but also to insist on the importance and prudence of working within a chosen tradition rather than throwing all past experience overboard and starting with a clean slate using reason alone (ironically itself a tradition with a rather poor track record in upholding liberty and other important values). Once this point is seen, the alleged tension between 'libertarian' and 'traditionalist' emphases in American politics is shown to be illusory, since, in political terms, our American tradition is about, precisely, freedom (and this is what American conservatives are, or should be, trying to conserve).
Other considerations also show that tradition as it has developed in America lead to personal freedom and limited government. Three important aspects of our tradition in this regard are:
- limits on the power of government (v. unlimited, supreme)
- the rule of law (v. leaders above the law)
- consent of the governed (v. top-down decree)
All have been important in the development of American freedoms and all are part of the English common-law tradition. Evans captures one of his key points as follows: "reliance on tradition as opposed to theoretical schemes of abstract reason is one of the most distinctive features of English law, and efforts to alter this approach have been a famous source of political conflict for many generations. We are used to thinking of this as a quarrel of the 18th century between the conservative [Edmund] Burke and English devotees of the Enlightenment, such as [?] Price and [Jeremy] Bentham, which of course it was, but it goes back considerably further than that" (78).
p/u here
In Chapter 6 (If Men Were Angels) ...
In Chapter 7 (The Rise of Neopaganism) ...
In Chapter 8 (The Birth of Liberty) ...
In Chapter 9 (The Making of Magna Carta) ...
In Chapter 10 (The Social Contract) ...
In Chapter 11 (The Dissidence of Dissent) ...
In Chapter 12 (The American Revolution) ...
In Chapter 13 (The Declaration of Independence) ...
In Chapter 14 (The Law and the Constitution) ...
Here's a brief summary from Roger Pilon's excellent and enlightening essay in CATO's SCR 05/06. The fight is far from over! We conservatives and libertarians often lament that politics has invaded law, which is true. But that lament "should not be confused with arguing that all in our system should be law and little politics. Our Constitution is a subtle blend of both ... Thus, there is an important, seemingly opposite variation ... when 'law' contrary to the Constitution is allowed to trump - in fact, to replace - politics. I say 'seemingly' because, in truth, when 'law' and the courts that enforce it intrude into areas that were meant to be left to politics, we still have politics trumping law - the politics that creates and enforces that 'law' ... the founding generation wanted most private affairs to be beyond the reach of politics, yet under the rule of law [i.e. governed by private law]. At the same time, they wanted some public affairs to be subject mainly to politics, as opposed to comprehensive or rigid legal ordering. And it falls to the judiciary, the [supposedly] nonpolitical branch, to enforce those distinctions, thereby securing the rule of law. The aim in all of this is to both authorize and constrain the rule of man - and politics - by the rule of law ... The Framers understood that legitimacy begins w/politics, w/the people ... But once ratification establishes the rule of law, that law regulates politics thereafter. For the arrangement to work, however, judges ... must discern the often subtle relationships between politics and law, restraining politics where it was meant to be restrained [by nature, or the higher moral law, as sensed by them] and allowing it to reign where it was meant to reign. Our main problem today, of course, is that much of what once was subject mainly to private ordering, through private law, is now ordered [publicly and] politically, through statutory 'law' [like ?'s comment on fof: 'the problem is not that we make too many political decisions democratically, it is that we make too many political (public) decisions' i.e. more should be left to private realm]. In everything from mktplace arrangements to retirement security, health care, ... private law has been largely replaced by public law ... [change] came from the Progressive mindset that was institutionalized by the New Deal Court's constitutional revolution. It was then that we were all thrown into the common pot, so to speak, stirred by govt planners. Today we live under voluminous 'law' not remotely authorized by the Constitution - the product of mere politics ... because the New Deal ... opened constitutional barriers, allowing politics to run roughshod over the Constitution's law of liberty." Pilon sees the regulation of campaign finance and foreign policy as logical next steps in progressives' continuing invasion of new territory. "Like their forebears in the 1930s who [felt] that the Constitution had left too much to private ordering, the 1970s activists sought to impose 'law' on what the Constitution had left mainly to political ordering ... Law is a safeguard against the rule of man ... but overdone it is itself tyrannical. The social engineers of the '30s sowed the seeds of the modern regulatory and redistributive state ... The same hubris ... drove '70s activists to believe they too could order and micromanage campaign finance [FECA 1971] and foreign affairs [War Pwrs 1973, FISA 1978] through comprehensive regulatory schemes."
In Chapter 15 (An Establishment of Religion) ...
In Chapter 16 (The Economics of Freedom) ...
In Chapter 17 (The Need for Limits) ...
