Are there persistent elements of republican thinking in English political thought that appear both before and after the regicide?

The months following the regicide of King Charles I in January 1649 marked the period in which the English constitution was reshaped into a “Commonwealth and Free State.” (An Act Declaring and Constituting the People of England to be a Commonwealth and Free-State: 19th May 1649) Following the regicide the exposition of Republican thinking was both clear and explicit. Intellectual legitimation of the new regime was urgently needed in face of growing royalist opposition. It is evident that this strand of Republican thought revolved around the idea that “no community living under a king has any title to be regarded as a free state.” (Quentin Skinner: Liberty before Liberalism 1998: p.55) Skinner defines Republicanism as the commitment to “kingless government.” (Blair Worden: Republicanism, Regicide and Republic 2002 p.307) This definition of Republicanism allows one to take the view that the political debates of the 1640s did not draw much on Republican thinking. Yet, this definition is too narrow in scope and does not do justice to the multiplicity of potential connotations the term has. Worden identifies J.G.A Pocock, Markku Peltonen and David Norbrook as providing a broader definition. Pocock with his idea of a modification of “civic republicanism” that adapted to the English monarchist tradition. Markku and Peltonen with their association between Republican thought and discourses around elective and hereditary government. Elements of republican thought were, therefore, certainly present throughout the 1640s; especially so in relation to the Leveller’s movement of 1646–1649. The key question, however, is whether the engagement with Republican thought was persistent and systematic in character?

The first English Civil War was not fought with the aim of eradicating the institution of monarchy. In the build up to the outbreak of war the main topic of intellectual vexation centred on the origins of the King’s power. This debate had a long ideological lineage, harking all the way back to Lutheran theories of resistance in the mid-16th century. Central to the debates on the origins of power in both the 16th and 17th century was the idea that there is “no authority except that which God has established.” (New Testament: Romans 13) This fact was not denied, but it was certainly qualified. The Scottish Presbyterian pastor Samuel Rutherford argued that the people, alongside God, were instrumental in the formation of a constitution. Rutherford formulated that while power was “formally” from God it was located “virtually” in the people. (John D.Ford: ‘Samuel Rutherford on the origins of government’ In Scottish political thought and the Union of 1603 ed. Roger Mason: 1994: p.281) Royal authority was instituted by God but the King, who would go on to exercise this power, was constituted by the people. This notion of kings deriving their power from the people is evident in the thought of English barrister and political writer Henry Parker. In his Jus Populi Parker states that “Prince’s derive their power, and prerogatives from the people” and that it is not “questioned whether the (king’s) powers are from God or no” but whether they have “no dependence upon human consent.” (Jus Populi 1644) The acceptance of monarchy as an institution both prior and during the Civil War is evidently clear.

At stake in the Civil War was the disagreement over the true location of sovereignty. John Fortescue’s concept of the dominium politicum and regale was being invoked by both the king and parliament in the attempt to assert dominance over each other. The king protested at the notion that parliament could supersede common law in the event of an emergency and enter into his rightful jurisdiction; the dominium regale. Indeed, such sentiments are born out in His Majesty’s Answer to the Nineteen Propositions of Both Houses of Parliament which states that such a movement by parliament would make the “King of England a Duke of Venice, and this of a Kingdom a Republic.” (July 1642) Charles was worried that parliament was pushing for undivided sovereignty; a move that would have rendered him a mere ornament of the constitution with little power. Moreover, the claim of parliament moving away from Fortescue’s theory of sovereignty toward a more Bodinian absolutism has been made by Michael Mendle. He has stated that over time “unitary theories of sovereignty came to command the field.” (Mendle: Parliamentary Absolutism: A very English absolutism,” in Political Discourse in Early Modern Britain 1993 p.118) Yet, talk of a “republic” by Charles and of a movement to a “unitary theory” of sovereignty is mistaken.

During the Civil War the King was both physically and metaphorically divorced from body politic. The aim of the war? To reunite the two. Parliament may have claimed to have had the ability to supersede positive law in times of emergency and, indeed, did so in 1642 when the King refused his assent to the militia ordinance. (Mendle: Parliamentary Absolutism: A very English absolutism,” in Political Discourse in Early Modern Britain 1993 p.114) But for the functioning of normal government business and the passage of legislation, the monarch was seen as integral. As Pocock neatly puts it, the war was a “contest for the sword.” (Pocock: ‘A discourse of sovereignty’ in Political Discourse in Early Modern Britain 1993 p.338) Yet, it was a sword that would be wielded by the King in parliament; the true location of legislative sovereignty. Kingless rule or any systematic expression for a republican styled polity was simply non-existent during the first English Civil War.

This lack of pessistant Republican thinking in English political thought re-enforces the general consensus that Republican thought was not seriously engaged with until after the regicide in 1649. Worden identifies Marchamont Nedham and John Milton as the first two English thinkers to introduce serious classical Republicanism into the foreground of English political thought. (Samuel Dennis Glover: The Putney Debates: Popular vs Elitist Republicanism: 1999: p. 48) However, in opposition to this view Glover has argued that radical republican thought and style permeated the Leveller movement between 1646–1649. Indeed, Glover has built upon Pocock’s idea that a “civic Republicanism,” modelled on Machiavelli’s Discorsi, was present prior to the regicide. Unlike Skinner, therefore, Glover does not view kingless government as being the only marker of Republican thought.

Glover states that the Leveller’s engaged with a “suppressed” discourse of popular republicanism. (Samuel Dennis Glover: The Putney Debates: Popular vs Elitist Republicanism: 1999: p.80) This popular republicanism was heavily Macheavellian in origin. Apart from the usual promotion of typical Republican concepts like elective government and neo-roman liberty, the Levellers were unusual in advocating for an English constitution with a largo social base. In contrast to many of his contemporaries, Machiavelli had argued for similarly styled popular form of republic in his discorsi and invoked Republican Rome, with its internal struggle between the senate and the plebs, as a key historical precedent for his argument. This line of thought is clearly present in the radical Leveller document An Agreement of the People (November 1647) Throughout the document we can see evident understanding of liberty in the neo-roman sense of the word. Emphasis is put on the need to find common ground between the various factions so as to “avoid the danger of returning into a slavish condition.” (The English Levellers, ed. A. Sharp: 1998 p.92) This “slavish condition,” of course, refers to the presence of the arbitrary power of the king. The document qualifies this with the idea that all people, no matter how poor, were sovereign; the underlying constitution was predicated on an “equal government for a free people.” (The English Levellers, ed. A. Sharp: 1998 p.101) Moreover, a clear reference to Rome is made when the authors put forward the idea of preventing the “inconveniences…arising from the long continuance of the same persons in authority,” by introducing annual elections. (The English Levellers, ed. A. Sharp: 1998 p.94) As in Rome, the Levellers were advocating for the rotation of offices through election and the removal of tyrannical office holders in order to prevent corruption and tyranny from taking hold in the offices of state.

This document, as radical as Glover would like to make it seem, still allowed for the possibility of a king. Whilst not using the word “king” explicitly it does state that “the power of this and all future representatives…is inferior only to those who chose them, and doth extend, without the consent or concurrence of any other person or person…” (The English Levellers, ed. A. Sharp: 1998 p.94) Within the possible constitutional arrangement put forth by the Levellers, the involvement of another “person” was still theoretically entertained. The final jump toward a kingless constitution still had not been made. Yet, if the king were to be this “person” he would likely have been reduced to what he had feared back in 1642; an English version of the “Duke of Venice.”(His Majesty’s Answer to the Nineteen Propositions of Both Houses of Parliament: 1642)

Glover’s argument can be contested on many levels. His view that the Putney debates planted the “roots of modernity” and founded our modern day conceptions of “democracy” and “liberalism” is anachronistic.These terms were simply not used in the same way that we use them now. If anything, they had dangerous connotations and were often used as political slurs; used in order to discredit arguments. David Wooton, whilst writing prior to Glover, has taken issue with the connection between the Leveller’s project and modernity. Indeed, he states that their “aura of modernity” was largely illusory. (David Wooton: Leveller democracy and the puritan revolution: 1991: p.413) He contends that religion, rather than constitutionalism, was the core tenet of their ideology. Of course, Wooton is right to emphasise the centrality of religion. An entire clause of the The Agreement of the People is clearly dedicated to “matters of religion” and freedom of conscience, stating that “the ways of God’s worship are not at all entrusted by us to any human power.” (The English Levellers, ed. A. Sharp: 1998 p.94) Wooton’s claim, however, that “the principle of the freedom of conscience” was far more important to the Levellers than the “right to vote” is misfounded. The disappearance of the right to vote would mean self-government would be rendered impossible and, thus, neo-roman liberty unattainable. This does not mean religion was not a central part of the Leveller’s thought. As Keith Thomas rightly stresses, the movement was highly heterogeneous in nature. (Keith Thomas: “The Levellers and the Franchise” in The Interregnum ed. G.E Aylmer: 1972) Consequently, its overall position can not be rationalised down to one line of thought or another.

Indeed, Wooton’s argument around the principle of the “right to vote” does raise one final issue with Glover’s interpretation. Although he is right to see key similarities between Republican thinking and the Leveller movement, he fails to properly address the discrepancy between the content of the first Agreement of 1647 and the final Agreement of 1649. The core discrepancy being the greater restrictions placed upon the franchise in the third Agreement. This, too, was at the core of C.B Macpherson’s and Keith Thomas’s writings on the Levellers. Macpherson attempted to show that a narrow franchise, eliminating nearly ⅔ of all eligible men were disqualified from voting given the clause in the third Agreement stating that “all men of the age of one and twenty years upward (not being servants, receiving alms, or having served the late king in alms or voluntary contributions.)” (Agreement of the People: 1649) I think Thomas has effectively dismantled this view, showing not only the statistical errors of Macpherson’s calculations but also the mistaken idea that a restricted franchise was in some way consistently sought after within the Leveller movement.

Interestingly, however, the exclusion clause appears logical. It does actually remove people who are economically or socially dependent. This marries well with Skinner’s concept of neo-roman liberty which he retrieved from the digest of roman law and has proven to be central to republican ideology. (Skinner: Liberty before Liberalism: 1998) Dependence on the arbitrary will of another rendered one un-free and, thus, unable to independently arrive at decisions. Hence, why the arbitrary power of the king was seen to compel men into a “slavish condition.” If this was so, why was it not mentioned in the first Agreement? BlairWorden gives a potential answer. Looking at the historical context, the Levellers had an incentive to be radical since Oliver Cromwell appeared to be negotiating a soft deal with the king. This gave the Levellers the incentive to be as uncompromising as possible. Indeed as Worden notes, what was the point in fighting the civil wars if the king reclaimed nearly all the power he previously held? Worden suggests that ideas were being used to further political ends. An editor of Hugh Trevor Roper’s memorial essays; perhaps some of the Peterhouse school of high political history, is present in his methodology.

Therefore, the differences between the various Agreements may not be connected to any persistent exposition of a given intellectual tradition. Instead, they may simply be a by-product of the interplay between the levellers and officers in a wider political game; upon which the future constitution of England depended.

Even immediately after the regicide there was caution around the abolition of the monarchy. Indeed, the execution of the king did not equate to the destruction of his office. The former was flesh; the latter an abstract idea. Despite the office of the king being abolished through legislation passed by the commons in march there was no mention of a republic or a commonwealth replacing it. The act stated that “the office of a king in this nation shall not henceforth reside in or be exercised by a single person.” (Worden: Republicanism, Regicide and Republic 2002 p.323) Like in the Agreement there was still an ambiguity around the office of the king. The idea that the “office of the king” could not be “exercised by any one person” might have implied that the institution of monarchy would have taken on some form of executive council that was made up of more than one, “single” body. However, in the face of growing royalist opposition, the Commons passed a further act in may of 1649 that explicitly proclaimed England a “commonwealth and free state…governed without any king or house of lords.” (Blair Worden: Republicanism, Regicide and Republic 2002 p.315)

Following the legislation of may 1649, a new reality set in. The monarchy was no longer part of the English constitution. To provide immediate intellectual legitimacy to the new regime, a more persistent and overt engagement with republican thought took place. This is evident in the tracts written by Cromwell’s chief spokesperson Marchamont Nedham; most notably The Case of the Commonwealth (1650). Direct references are made to writings of renaissance republican writers like Machiavelli. For instance, Nedham draws upon “the Florentine’s subtle discourses on livy” to evidence the incompatibility of “monarchy or tyranny” with the preservation of liberty. (Nedham: The Case of the Commonwealth p.1) Nedham also makes sure to draw a distinct parallel between the greatness of republican Rome and the contemporary political situation in England. By claiming that the expulsion of the Taquins led to the discovery of liberty and an installation of “extraordinary courage,” Nedham was insinuating that through the abolition of the monarchy, England had set down a path of future greatness. The “greatest Kings and Tyrants” were now seen as “inferior to those that” were “eminent in free-states and common-weales.” ( Nedham: The Case of the Commonwealth p.3) Moreover, Nedham claims that “free states are most pleasing to God” not only because the minds of men in commonwealths are “more inflamed” with the republican values of “Glory and Vertue” but also because more “regard is had to the common good.” An explicit point is made throughout; hereditary monarchy as an institution was both antithetical to freedom and innately tyrannical.

Yet, Nedham still allows for certain types of monarchy. He states that a monarchy is intolerable “otherwise upon Terms of Election.” (Nedham: The Case of the Commonwealth p.5) In fact, he even goes on to suggest that those monarchs that were elected “approved Themselves noble and virtuous.” (Nedham: The Case of the Commonwealth p.5) In the context of regicide, no suitable heir could be found and the election of a monarch may have been a way to prevent the “inconveniences of an Interregnum where the heir” was uncertain. (Nedham: The Case of the Commonwealth p.5) Ambiguity around the monarchy still remained even one year after the regicide.

A true engagement with republican constitutional thinking came after the regicide. If one casts their definition of republican thinking wide enough, clearly there are elements present throughout the 1640s; especially within the Leveller movement. But it was not persistent nor totalising. Alghouth Makku and Peoltonen are right to identify ideas around elective government and resistance to tyranny as being part of the republican creed, there were various distinctly english political discourses that engage with these topics, too. Pocock’s notion of an Anglicised “civic republicanism” allows for a combination between english thinking and “civic republicanism” that provides greater understanding of republican thinking in the intellectual landscape of pre-1649 england. ( Worden: Republicanism, Regicide and Republic 2002 p.308) However, at no point until immediately after the regicide was constitutional republicanism persistently expounded. Sheer political necessity qualified an explicit renunciation of kingly government and the active promotion of a “free state.”