Burke, Paine, and Mill on revolution, rights, and government

Revolution and Rights
Introduction
Edmund Burke and Thomas Paine were ideologically opposed in their view of revolution: the former was an Old World conservative in terms of the values he espoused; the latter was steeped in Enlightenment doctrine and supported both the American and the French Revolutions. Burke condemned the Reign of Terror that grew out of the French Revolution as a disgraceful attack on human decency—but he was at heart sympathetic to the plight of the Americans and felt that the British government was not in the right in its treatment of the colonists. Moreover, Burke never referred to the conflict between the British and the Americans as a revolution. Paine, however, did and in his mind it was the proto-type for the Revolution that followed in France, which of course ended less happily for most involved. In between the two was J.S. Mill, whose own philosophy of utilitarianism helped to produce one of the most enduring philosophical perspectives of the modern era. With Burke reflecting on the tyranny of the Revolutionaries in France and Paine promoting the revolutionary Rights of Man against tyrants, Mill offered a new philosophical approach to discernment that focused wholly on deciding the moral course based on the consequences of one’s actions—i.e., on how it impacted the common good. Thus, from the natural rights of man to the responsibility and limits of governments to provide for their citizens, Mill proposed a political and ethical point of view that moderns could use to navigate the roiling waters of socio-political change. This paper will discuss the natural rights of man (ala Paine) in relation to the responsibility and limits of governments to provide for their citizens (ala Burke) from a political and ethical view (ala Mill).
Philosophical Divergence between Paine’s Enlightenment and Burke’s Conservatism
Burke
Burke made his thoughts on the French Revolution known in no uncertain terms in the political pamphlet he had published in 1790, Reflections on the Revolution in France. In it, he attacked the philosophy of the Revolution, its over-exaggerated and misplaced emphasis on rights without respect to duty and responsibility, and its devilish demeanor with its reliance upon the guillotine as the force behind its law. Burke highlighted how the so-called enshrinement of Reason in France was utterly irrational as the revolutionaries showed themselves to lack even the most fundamental awareness of how human nature really is. According to Burke, humans may like to think of themselves as rational creatures (and they certainly could be), but human nature itself is so riddled through with self-serving impulses and all manner of ignoble qualities that can easily rise to the surface unless one’s character is thoroughly disciplined, that to go about pretending that all of society’s ills can be solved through the so-called worship of Reason is about as nonsensical as one can get. For this reason and others, Burke rejected the Revolution and its Romantic-Enlightenment, intellectualist foundations.
Thus, Burke viewed the “rights of man” as advocated by the Revolutionaries in Paris as over-exaggerated and taken out of context. For Burke, the proper context in which one’s rights should be examined was with regard to duty and responsibility. In other words, the philosophical orientation of Burke was deontological and much more in line with the German Kant than with the French-focused Paine.
Burke’s underlying point was that the Revolution was based on a faulty philosophy: the Enlightenment thinkers had developed a new concept of man, in which he was viewed as a rational being, who could completely solve the problems of society by using reason and logic. Burke rejected this philosophy because he viewed man not as rational alone but also as emotional and irrational at times. Man could use the function of reason to justify actions that were in fact irrational. Reason could be twisted and used against itself, in other words, just like men’s minds and principles and hearts could be corrupted through negligence or through exposure to evils and ills.
The core concept of Burke’s overarching views on the Revolution was that it had ushered into the modern world an uncivilized and ungovernable spirit of self-love and self-centeredness that would utterly destroy the pillars of civilization if allowed to obtain legitimacy. Social order should be hierarchical with the authorities at the top respected—not threatened with death and actually executed by the mob seeking to express its anger and frustration through violence. Order cannot be achieved through pandering to the lowest common denominator or through appealing to the lowest and basest of passions; this leads to manipulation and oppression—not to order. Burke’s point, essentially, is that the social order is dependent upon respect for the moral order rather Enlightenment ideals.
This should not be a surprise since Burke was a gradualist who believed that society should respect the customs and traditions that were handed down from one generation to the next. Revolutionaries tended to disrespect these customs and practices: their aim was to break with the past and install their own vision for society. To make it work, it often relied on violent overthrow of the established order—a fact that Burke lamented deeply in his Reflections on the Revolution in France. He states in that work that “the nature of man is intricate; the objects of society are of the greatest possible complexity; and therefore no simple disposition or direction of power can be suitable either to man’s nature, or to the quality of his affairs” (p. 57). He argues against the Paine and the Revolutionaries in France, highlighting their lack of foresight and their willingness to construct a new society, a new commonwealth, without any regard for the traditions and customs of the past. By installing Reason as a Goddess of Worship in Paris and identifying her as the leading light that all in France should now honor, the Revolutionaries showed themselves to lack the rational and logical powers that they themselves believed themselves to be in possession of, Burke suggested.
From the Revolutionaries’ point of view, their actions were wholly logical. They viewed themselves as operating out of a sense of pure reason—based of course on the premises of the doctrines of Rousseau and others who promoted the naturalistic perspective. Their logic was that man was born free and yet enslaved by the customs and traditions that were handed down from one generation to the next. The same customs and traditions that Burke believed should be honored were despised by the Revolutionaries—men like Paine and Robespierre in Paris—as the whole source of the problem for modern man.
Paine
In light of that view, it should not be surprising that Paine in his Rights of Man disregarded Burke’s Reflections as “a dramatic performance” (p. 22). Paine, like a true devotee of pure Reason, insists on the facts: he is Dickens’ Mr. Gradgrind in human form. His argument against Burke is that Burke does not consider the facts and exaggerates the horror of the situation in France. He attacks Burke’s narration of events surrounding the overthrow of the monarchy in France—which Burk gives by stating them in this censorious manner: “History will record, that on the morning of the 6th of October, 1789, the King and Queen of France, after a day of confusion, alarm, dismay and slaughter, lay down, under the pledged security of public faith, to indulge nature in a few hours of respite, and troubled, melancholy repose. From this sleep the Queen was first startled by the voice of the sentinel at her door, who cried out to her, to save herself by flight—that this was the last proof of fidelity he could give—that they were upon him, and he was dead” (p. 65). Burke’s depiction is dramatic, of course—just as Paine says—but Paine attempts to disabuse Burke of his argument by criticizing his style of writing. He argues that Burke is affixing honors to the King and Queen that are not due to them. Paine goes on to describe the event in his own words, showing all sympathy towards the revolutionaries.
The point of contention between the two, however, is not on the rudimentary facts but rather on the premises upon which the facts are situated. The premises that matter for Burke are that society should evolve organically over time—gradually—and not violently; that society is best served when it serves the principles and ideals it has received. The premises that matter for Paine are that the past is the problem. The principles and ideals of Christendom enslave man and convict him of sin, from which there is no freedom but through Christ. Being a devotee of self-reliance and naturalism, Paine rejects the idea of Original Sin, of fallen human nature and that man is in need of spiritual redemption. For Paine, the principles and ideals of the past (i.e., of Christendom) are all lies that prevent man from any and all upward mobility: they are lies perpetuated by the ruling classes—by kings and queens, by the bourgeoisie—and thus they must all be rooted out so that honest men like he can assume their rightful place in the world, given them by nature. That is the essence of Paine’s premise—and that is where Paine and Burke diverge. Because of that divergence, the facts are certainly going to be conveyed differently.
Paine opposed the monarchy and viewed it as a wholly unnecessary evil that served mainly as an obstacle to man’s natural liberty. He thus coupled the Enlightenment emphasis on Reason and Nature with the dawning Romantic emphasis on passion and issued forth some of the most forceful political writings of the era—namely the Rights of Man. Paine viewed the Rights of Man in the same way as Christians viewed the Bible as a source of divine revelation. Paine
The Natural Rights of Man vs. the Responsibility and Limits of Government
The American Revolution was a profound reordering of society along the lines of liberty and equality ideologically speaking—but in practical terms it essentially maintained the status quo, just for a new group of people who put themselves at the top of the pecking order. Burke felt that the Americans should have the right to determine their own future as they were by and large, and practically speaking, independent from the Crown by all respects and accounts. To justify their revolt, however, the Revolutionaries did not appeal so much to the pragmatic principles of J.S. Mill (his philosophy would not be published until the following century). Instead, they used the words and ideas of the Enlightenment philosophers—Thomas Paine mainly, though Paine’s outlook was shaped by Rousseau’s and others.
To project their Declaration of Independence onto the world, the American Revolutionaries promoted the rights of man, but their words effectively fell far short of the reality that actually transpired. This was the point that Burke so often made in his reflections on the revolution in France: the government that governed with respect to duty and responsibility governed best. The government that promoted ideals and an exaggerated view of rights (without respect to responsibility) governed worst. Jefferson understood as much: he lamented that the institution of slavery should be an ongoing thing, and while the issue was eventually resolved in the following century, it was not a going concern for the Founding Fathers: they were mainly interested in asserting their own rights in the face of the tyranny they perceived coming from the Crown. They wanted theirs and they obtained it from the war with Britain. They used the philosophy of egalitarianism and freedom so beloved of the Enlightenment ideologists to justify their rebellion against England. The French Revolutionaries would essentially do the same—but they would all die in the process, consumed by blood and envy and hatred for the masses and the powerful. In America, the Revolution worked out considerably well for those who advocated for it. Not everyone benefitted, of course—but for the most part it placed the ideals of liberty and equality at the front and center of the modern world. The fact that the Revolution can be read in two different ways—as being progressive or as being conservative—shows that it was ultimately of mixed character. Undoubtedly, this is why the American Revolution appealed to Burke more than the French Revolution did—but there was another reason as well: the American Revolution was gradual and organic—a natural consequence of forces beyond Britain’s control. The French Revolution was much more forced and cruel: the duties of those who assumed power were neglected (in Burke’s eyes—not in Paine’s—until, of course, he was actually arrested by them and imprisoned).
While the American Revolution advanced the notions of liberty and equality for generations to come, in practical terms it took the nation a great many years to actually put these notions into effect. Thus, even after the Revolution in America, gradual changes occurred. Those who assumed power struggled to understand their duties and responsibilities. Jefferson, for example, seriously put himself to task over the issue of slavery. Women were not afforded the same rights and liberties as men during the Revolution. Africans were still enslaved both during and after the Revolution. Native Americans were still being pushed off the land (indeed, one of the reasons for the Revolution was so that the leading colonists could continue to expand westward and take the land from the Natives). All of these populations were treated unequally and none of them were really free in the same sense that the leaders of the Revolution viewed themselves as free. However, from Burke’s perspective, the Americans would have had a duty and responsibility to address these issues. From Paine’s perspective, the Revolutionaries were promoting the rights of man unapologetically and pursuing the natural aims that accorded with their position. Still, even he objected to some of these social ills—such as slavery—and thus became a political pariah at the end of his life. Paine believed in the Rights of (all) Men—much more so than the Revolutionaries who used his words to drive their own movement. Thus, ironically, Paine himself would fall out of favor with the Revolutionaries on both shores—particularly with Robespierre—and would be arrested and not freed until Robespierre was toppled. Paine’s belief in the revolution was thus tested by direct experience and he got to feel directly the bitterness of the Revolution when it turned against one’s own lot.
Robespierre had been a devotee of Rousseau, too, and had admired the French Romantic-Enlightenment who likewise eschewed the concept of Original Sin (fallen human nature) and announced that nature was pure in and of itself and that all men should be free to do as they like. Robespierre thus had no problem chopping his perceived enemies off at the neck during the Reign of Terror in Paris—a point that Burke vehemently lamented. Robespierre himself would be guillotined in 1794 after his reign had fizzled out. What made him a revolutionary was his ambition to overturn the established order and install something new (the worship of Reason) using whatever force necessary. In terms of thinking, he was much in line with Paine—yet the two were not aligned practically speaking. What divided the two was the same thing that divided Paine from Burke: a bridge, a connector, a way for a middle ground to be reached. The middle ground that appeared eventually came by way of J.S. Mill, who offered the philosophy of pragmatism, known as utilitarianism. It would be this philosophy that the modern world would embrace from the 19th century on in its attempt to define the legitimate role of government, the duties of government, the limitations of government and the rights of man. The point or perspective from which it was all to be judged would be the point of consequence.
Mill’s Utilitarianism: A Practical and Pragmatic Approach to the Problem
Mill’s philosophy was rooted in the idea that in order for society to function effectively, it had to have some concept of the common good by which it could judge all else. There had to be some limit as to what was permissible and what was not. Mill’s philosophy held that what is good should be determined by what is deemed to make the greatest number of people the happiest. This was the idea behind judging actions by their effect on the commonweal overall and choosing that which benefited the greatest number of people. Mill wrote, for instance, that “if [society] issues wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which it ought not to meddle, it practices social tyranny more formidable than many kinds of political oppression” (13). Mill thus advocated for a Utilitarian approach to life. His God was a pragmatic or practical God who wanted a practical or utilitarian form of government for His people. Mill inherently viewed morality as a social construct. The moral laws of a state were thus to be determined by state. The government had a duty and responsibility to protect and guide its people. It was a concept that Plato had put forward centuries earlier.
Mill likewise stated in “On Liberty” that one’s personal actions are “right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness.” In order to define the right, it was necessary for Mill to define happiness, which he did by drawing on the Enlightenment perspective. According to Mill, happiness was essentially the absence of pain. In terms of governance, social pain was caused by social tyranny, which was in its own turn produced by the issuance of “wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which [society] ought not to meddle.” Mill spoke of propriety in the same way in which Tocqueville spoke of the moral law. For Mill, propriety was the greatest virtue and the only moral that mattered in so far as the state was concerned. It was a sentiment that Burke could have appreciated. Mill also warned that people should b protected “against the tendency of society to impose, by other means than civil penalties, its own ideas and practices as rules of conduct on those who dissent from them.” Finding the limit of “legitimate interference of collective opinion with individual independence” was something a nation must consider “as indispensable to a good condition of human affairs.”
Thus, both Burke and Paine likely could have found a meeting point using the bridge constructed by Mill. Burke believed the Crown was acting unjustly in its attempt to govern from afar the colonialists in America. Paine believed the same. Mill could explain in a manner, using “On Liberty,” how the government should actually be. From the Utilitarian perspective, one could begin to distinguish the good from the bad by looking at the consequences of actions in terms of how they impacted the commonweal. For example, the difference between being a colonist and being a British subject at home was essentially this: the colonists were by and large there in America because they were not wanted in Europe. Most of them were outsiders—like William Penn’s Quakers—who clashed with the Protestant Establishment. Penn himself had been imprisoned in Europe for his religious views and so when the king gave him land in America for him and his followers it was primarily to get rid of the sect. This was not an isolated incident. The Puritans were similar: they came to America seeking to have their own colony—and even those who came who were not despised back home expected to have some autonomy and independence in the New World. The frontier was wide open and the Founding Fathers had an eye to push its boundaries. As far as they were concerned, the wide Atlantic separated them from the Crown and they were not dependent upon the Crown for anything. America offered them all they needed; if anything, the king simply got in the way of the colonists plans. America had developed itself organically over the course of centuries—and, as Burke believed, it was high time for the British government to cede control to the colonists. America was theirs. Paine agreed. Mill’s philosophy provided the bridge by which the two adversaries could reach agreement: the best course in government for the Americans was one in which the Crown backed off.
Being an Englishman at home was a different matter—and Burke would have argued as much as well. His argument would also have been supported by Mill—though not by Paine, who felt there should be no monarchies anywhere. But in England, it was a tradition to be respected for the sake of the continuation of culture and stable society, according to Burke. Thus, to revolt in England was not a recommended course of action for Burke—as one had really nowhere to go to escape authority. If one wanted to rebel, one was likely to end up in the Tower of London.
However, in America, if one wanted to rebel, one could take part in the Boston Tea Party, dump the Tea into the Boston Harbor, and then rebel some more against the Boston Port Act, which England passed to close the Boston Harbor until the colonists paid for all the tea they had destroyed. The colonists saw this as one of four Intolerable Acts and called them thus: they had no fear of being thrown into the Tower. The English power in the New World was but a fraction of what it was back home in England. The colonists knew this and felt it and so were not afraid to speak out and act out against the English authorities who stood in between them and the way of life they wanted for themselves. If a British subject back home in England wanted any other life for himself other than the one England chose for him, there was nothing he could do about it—other than leave and perhaps set sail for America.
The distance between the colonists and the crown and the fact that many of the colonists in America seeking to get away from England and its restrictions both served to distinguish the colonists from the British subjects back home. All could agree on that point. The British subjects in England really had no choice but to accept the authority of the king. The colonists knew that in order for the king to exercise authority in America he needed willing compliance from the colonists—and they were less inclined to give that as time went on. They saw the king’s rules and England’s laws as good for the subjects at home but as having little relevance for the colonists, who lived oftentimes in hostile regions, where the rules of life, commerce, and religion were all different than what they were in England. Thus, colonists naturally felt different from British subjects in England: they were different. They had entirely different experiences living in the New World and had entirely different ideas about how their lives should be and who should be in charge.
Additionally, England was in no position to negotiate. Its debts were crippling the country, sapping almost 2/3rds of the nation’s budget. Back home in England, the people were taxed even more heavily than the colonists, so it was not as though the Crown could simply place more taxes upon its citizens at home: the only way for it to get more money to pay down its debts was to tax the colonists in America. The American colonists, however, were not to be put upon. They had a strong sense of independence and were motivated by the Great Awakening to spread their wings and assert their autonomy.
The colonists and the British Crown were unable to come to an agreement because they were divided by two very different cultures at that point. The Americans wanted out from under the monarchy.