This account of Russia ends with the emergence of a consolidated absolutist state in the late eighteenth century. A lot obviously happened after that, both in terms of liberal experimentation in the nineteenth century and the rise of a totalitarian state in the twentieth century. Already by the time of the French Revolution, however, certain features of Russian governance distinguished it sharply from both the weak absolutisms of France and Spain on the one hand, and the Chinese and Ottoman states on the other.
The Russian state was stronger than its French or Spanish counterparts in several respects. The latter felt bound by respect for a rule of law, at least with regard to elites, which simply didn"t exist in Russia. The French and Spanish governments nibbled away at property rights through debt defaults, currency manipulation, and trumped-up charges through court proceedings designed to extort money from their target. But at least they felt compelled to work through the existing legal system. The Russian government, by contrast, expropriated private property outright with no pretense of legality, forced the entire n.o.bility into government service, and did away with enemies and traitors without attention to due process. Ivan IV"s oprichnina was in some respects a one-time event that was not duplicated on the same scale until the Communist government of the twentieth century. But the fact that it happened created important precedents for subsequent Russian rulers, who understood that they had an extreme sanction against their elites that was unavailable to Western sovereigns. In this respect the Russian government was much closer to imperial China than to governments that emerged in the West. The Russian government developed absolutist inst.i.tutions that paralleled those of the Ottomans, like the pomest"ia. But both the Ottomans and the Mamluks at their peak displayed a stronger respect for rule of law than did Russian rulers.
On the other hand, Russian absolutism was far more patrimonial than the Chinese or Ottoman versions. The Chinese, as we have seen, invented modern bureaucracy and centralized, impersonal rule. While Chinese history was largely a struggle over the repatrimonialization of the state, the ideal of impersonal, merit-based administration existed even prior to the emergence of a unified China in the third century B.C. The Ottoman system of military slavery succeeded in creating a merit-based administrative system that had, in its heyday, the admiration of visiting Europeans for its freedom from patrimonial influences. Peter the Great tried to create such a system in Russia, but he succeeded only partially. The Russian government was easily recaptured by patrimonial forces who operated in completely nontransparent ways behind the scenes to shape policy.
The parallels between contemporary Russia and the society that emerged in the hundred years following the death of Peter the Great are striking. Despite modern Russia"s formal const.i.tution and written laws, the country is run by shadowy elite networks that resemble the Saltykov and Naryshkin families that used to control imperial Russia. These elites have access to power in ways that are not defined either by law or regularized procedure. But unlike in China, Russia"s most senior elites do not have a comparable sense of moral accountability to the nation as a whole. As one moves up the political hierarchy in China, the quality of government improves, whereas it gets worse in Russia. Contemporary elites are willing to use nationalism to legitimate their power, but in the end they seem to be in it largely for themselves.
Russia is in no way trapped by its history. The absolutist precedents set by Ivan IV, Peter, and Stalin were followed by periods of liberalization. Society is mobilized today in a way that it was not under the old regime, and the introduction of capitalism permits the elite deck to be restacked periodically. The corrupt and messy electoral authoritarianism in place today is hardly the brutal dictatorship Russians have experienced in the past, and Russian history provides many alternative paths toward greater freedom that may serve as precedents for reform down the road.
27.
TAXATION AND REPRESENTATION.
How the preceding cases of failed accountability set a context for understanding the development of parliamentary inst.i.tutions in England; sources of political solidarity and their roots in pre-Norman England; the role of law in legitimizing English inst.i.tutions; what the Glorious Revolution actually accomplished
The final case regarding the development of political accountability is England, in which all three dimensions of political development-the state, rule of law, and political accountability-were successfully inst.i.tutionalized. I examine England last in order to avoid some of the pitfalls of what is called "Whig history." Many accounts have been written about the rise of representative government in England that make its development seem like a logical, necessary, or inevitable outgrowth of a Western pattern of development stretching all the way back to ancient Athens. Because these histories are seldom put in a comparative context, however, the causal train of events adduced in them fails to account for a host of other un.o.bserved or more remote factors that played critical roles in the outcome. They fail, in other words, to observe the turtles lurking beneath the ones at or near the top of the stack.
We avoid this problem because we have already covered four cases of European states in which accountable government failed failed to emerge-indeed, more than four if we consider also the non-Western cases discussed. By looking at the ways England was both similar to and different from these other cases, we can gain a better insight into what combination of factors caused accountability to develop there. to emerge-indeed, more than four if we consider also the non-Western cases discussed. By looking at the ways England was both similar to and different from these other cases, we can gain a better insight into what combination of factors caused accountability to develop there.
England, like France, Spain, Hungary, and Russia, was first a tribal and then a feudal society in which a centralizing state began to acc.u.mulate power in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. The elites in each of these societies were organized into estates-the English Parliament, the French sovereign courts, the Spanish Cortes, the Hungarian Diet, and the Russian zemskiy sobor-to which the modernizing monarch turned for support and legitimacy. In France, Spain, and Russia, these estates failed to coalesce into powerful, inst.i.tutionalized actors capable of standing up to the centralizing state to impose on it a const.i.tutional settlement that required the king to be accountable to a parliament. In England, by contrast, Parliament was both powerful and cohesive.
More specifically, unlike the Spanish Cortes, which represented primarily Castile"s cities, or the French or Russian bodies, which were dominated by the aristocracy, the English body represented not just the aristocracy and clergy (the lords temporal and spiritual) but also the broad ma.s.s of gentry, townspeople, and property owners more generally who, as the Commons, were its soul and driving force. The English Parliament was strong enough to stymie the king in his plans to raise taxes, create new military instruments, and bypa.s.s the Common Law. Parliament created its own army and defeated the king in a civil war, executed him, and then forced the abdication of a second monarch, James II, in favor of a foreign pretender, William of Orange. At the end of the process, the English state was ruled not by an absolutist monarch like its continental rivals but by a const.i.tutional monarch who formally conceded the principle of parliamentary accountability. The natural question then is why the English Parliament developed into this kind of body while its counterparts elsewhere in Europe were, until the eve of the French Revolution, divided, weak, co-opted, or indeed actively supportive of monarchical absolutism.
There is another respect in which England const.i.tutes an interesting precedent for contemporary developing countries. The English state under the early Stuarts at the beginning of the seventeenth century was not only increasingly authoritarian, it was also very corrupt. The same sorts of practices that infected public administration in contemporary France and Spain, like venal officeholding and patrimonial appropriation, happened in England as well, even if on a more modest scale. In England, however, the problem of public corruption was, if not solved, at least substantially mitigated by the end of the century. The political system eliminated venal officeholding and established modern bureaucratic administration in a manner that increased the overall power and efficiency of the state. This didn"t decisively solve the problem of corruption in English public life, but it did prevent the country from sinking into the same mora.s.s of venality that delegitimized and ultimately undermined the ancien regime in France. Present-day developing countries facing pervasive public corruption might look to how the English political system dealt with this problem.
THE ROOTS OF ENGLISH POLITICAL SOLIDARITY.
We have seen how the French, Spanish, and Russian monarchies used various strategies to co-opt, intimidate, or neutralize potential opponents in the aristocracy, gentry, and bourgeoisie. English monarchs tried this as well, but the social cla.s.ses represented in Parliament hung together sufficiently firmly to resist and ultimately defeat the king. The question then is where this solidarity came from.
There are at least three key components of an answer, some of which have been elaborated in earlier chapters. First, solidarity in English society was from a very early point more political than social. Second, the Common Law and English legal inst.i.tutions were broadly regarded as legitimate and gave property owners a strong stake in defending them. Finally, religion, while bitterly dividing the English throughout this period, gave Parliament a strong sense of transcendent purpose that it would not have had were the contest with the king simply over property and resources.
Local Government and Solidarity We noted in chapter 16 16 how tribal social organization had broken down in Europe under the impact of Christianity long before the modern state-building project began. Nowhere was this process more advanced than in England, where, starting with the mission of St. Augustine of Canterbury in the late sixth century, extended kin ties were replaced by a far more individualistic form of community. (This was not as true of the Irish, Welsh, or Scots, who retained tribal ties-for example, the Highland clans-into a much later period of history.) Communities of unrelated neighbors were common back in Anglo-Saxon times prior to the Norman invasion, and they made peasant society there quite different from its counterparts in Eastern Europe, not to speak of China and India. how tribal social organization had broken down in Europe under the impact of Christianity long before the modern state-building project began. Nowhere was this process more advanced than in England, where, starting with the mission of St. Augustine of Canterbury in the late sixth century, extended kin ties were replaced by a far more individualistic form of community. (This was not as true of the Irish, Welsh, or Scots, who retained tribal ties-for example, the Highland clans-into a much later period of history.) Communities of unrelated neighbors were common back in Anglo-Saxon times prior to the Norman invasion, and they made peasant society there quite different from its counterparts in Eastern Europe, not to speak of China and India.1 The weakness of kin-based social organization did not, however, preclude social solidarity overall. Strongly bonded kin groups can provide collective action within the limits of the group while serving as barriers to cooperation outside the lineage or tribe. Political inst.i.tutions are needed precisely because of the narrowness of collective action typical of kin-based societies.
The early individualism of English society therefore did not mean that there was no social solidarity. It meant that solidarity took a more explicitly political rather than social form. Prior to the Norman Conquest, England was already organized into relatively uniform units called shires, which may at one time have been independent kingdoms but were now amalgamated into a larger English kingdom. The shire was presided over by an ancient official called an ealdorman who held his post on a hereditary basis. (The ealdorman, from a Danish root meaning "old man," survives in American local politics as the alderman.)2 But increasingly real power was held by a royal official, the shire reeve (or sheriff), who was appointed by the king and represented royal authority. The shire reeve organized a shire moot or council, which all free men (later all free landowners) in the district were obliged to attend on the occasion of its biannual meetings. But increasingly real power was held by a royal official, the shire reeve (or sheriff), who was appointed by the king and represented royal authority. The shire reeve organized a shire moot or council, which all free men (later all free landowners) in the district were obliged to attend on the occasion of its biannual meetings.3 The Norman Conquest did not destroy this system of governance but only renamed it, so that the shires became counties following continental Frankish practice. However, the power of the king"s representative, the sheriff, increased greatly at the expense of the hereditary ealdorman. The shire moot evolved into the county court, where, in the words of Frederic Maitland, "the tenants in chief of the crown have to meet their own va.s.sals on a footing of legal equality; a tenant may find himself sitting as the peer of his own lord." The Norman Conquest did not destroy this system of governance but only renamed it, so that the shires became counties following continental Frankish practice. However, the power of the king"s representative, the sheriff, increased greatly at the expense of the hereditary ealdorman. The shire moot evolved into the county court, where, in the words of Frederic Maitland, "the tenants in chief of the crown have to meet their own va.s.sals on a footing of legal equality; a tenant may find himself sitting as the peer of his own lord."4 While the details of these inst.i.tutions may seem of only antiquarian interest today, they are extremely important in explaining the evolution of Parliament as a political inst.i.tution. The nature of feudalism in continental Europe, particularly in those regions that had been part of the Carolingian Empire, looked very different. In the latter regions, the territorial n.o.bility had far greater control over the administration of justice than its English counterpart.5 In England, the king had the advantage. After the Norman Conquest, the king used the county courts to check the feudal courts; if an individual felt he could not get justice from the lord, he could appeal to the sheriff to have the jurisdiction moved to the county court. In time, the growth of the royal courts (detailed in chapter In England, the king had the advantage. After the Norman Conquest, the king used the county courts to check the feudal courts; if an individual felt he could not get justice from the lord, he could appeal to the sheriff to have the jurisdiction moved to the county court. In time, the growth of the royal courts (detailed in chapter 17 17) displaced the county courts as courts of first instance for important matters, while the county courts continued to preside over lesser cases involving land disputes up to forty shillings. Nonelites therefore had far greater access to these inst.i.tutions in England than they did on the Continent.
Even as the county courts began to lose their judicial functions, they were gaining a political one as the locus of representation for the broader political system. As Maitland explains,
When in the middle of the thirteenth century we find elected representatives called to form part of the national a.s.sembly, of a common council of the realm, or parliament, they are the representatives of the county courts. They are not the representatives of unorganized collections of men, they are the representatives, we might almost say, of corporations. The whole county is in theory represented by its court ... The king"s itinerant justices from time to time visit the counties; the whole county (totus comitatus ), i.e., the body of freeholders, stands before them; it declares what the county has been doing since the last visitation; the county can give judgment; the county can give testimony; the county can be punished by fines and amercements when the county has done wrong. ), i.e., the body of freeholders, stands before them; it declares what the county has been doing since the last visitation; the county can give judgment; the county can give testimony; the county can be punished by fines and amercements when the county has done wrong.6
The county was thus a curious combination of top-down and bottom-up organization. It was created by the king and ruled by a sheriff he appointed who was accountable to him, but it was also based on broad partic.i.p.ation by all of the free landholders regardless of inherited rank or feudal status. The sheriff was in turn checked by locally elected officials named coroners, which legitimated the idea that the county"s interests ought to be represented by locally elected officials. Upward accountability to the king was increasingly balanced by downward accountability to the county"s population.
Below the level of the shire or county there were the hundreds, smaller units of local administration comparable to the Carolingian centenae. (These units were also carried over into American local administration.) The hundreds had their own a.s.semblies or courts called hundred moots or courts, which came to play an increasingly important role in the administration of justice. The hundreds were put under the authority of bailiffs or constables appointed by the sheriff, and were collectively responsible for police functions like the apprehension of criminals. The hundreds were also the basis of the English jury system, since they were required to produce panels of twelve men to decide criminal cases.7 Thus, even prior to the Norman Conquest, the whole of English society had been organized down to a village level into highly partic.i.p.atory political units. This was not a gra.s.sroots phenomenon of local social organization taking on a political role; rather, it was national government inviting local partic.i.p.ation in a way that structured local life and became deeply rooted as a source of community.
The Role of the Common Law and Legal Inst.i.tutions It is notable that the building blocks of later English representative political inst.i.tutions started out as judicial bodies like the county and hundred courts. In English history, the rule of law emerged well before there was anything like political accountability, and the latter was always closely tied to the defense of the law. The partic.i.p.atory nature of English justice, and the locally responsive nature of judicial rule-making under the Common Law, created a much greater feeling of popular ownership of the law in England than in other European societies. Public accountability meant in the first instance obedience to the law, despite the fact that neither judgemade nor statute law was produced in this period by a democratic political process.
One of the chief functions of the rule of law is the protection of property rights, and this the Common Law did much more effectively than law in other lands. This is due in part to the fact that the Common Law is, as Hayek observed, the product of decentralized decision making that is highly responsive to local conditions and knowledge. But paradoxically, it was also due to the fact that English kings were willing to support the property rights of nonelites against those of the n.o.bility, something that depended in turn on the existence of a powerful centralized state. In England, plaintiffs early on could shift the venue of a property rights dispute to the king"s courts or, if the amounts in question were small, to the county or hundred courts. There were many complex cla.s.ses of traditional property rights in the Middle Ages, such as the copyhold, by which a villein or unfree tenant could in effect transfer property that was technically that of his lord to a son or relative. The king"s courts tended to protect copyholders" rights against their lords, such that this form of property began to evolve into something closer to freehold or true private property.8 The existence of a multiplicity of courts at the county and hundred level, and the king"s willingness to act as a neutral arbiter in local property rights disputes, strongly reinforced the legitimacy of property rights in England.9 By the fifteenth century, the independence and perceived neutrality of the English judicial system allowed it to play an increasingly important role as a genuine "third branch" with competence to judge const.i.tutional issues, like the right of Parliament to abrogate a royal patent. In the words of one observer, "It is hard to think of another place in medieval Europe where such issues would be settled-and indeed settled independently-by judges talking the common language of their profession rather than by the political maneuvering or coercion of the parties." By the fifteenth century, the independence and perceived neutrality of the English judicial system allowed it to play an increasingly important role as a genuine "third branch" with competence to judge const.i.tutional issues, like the right of Parliament to abrogate a royal patent. In the words of one observer, "It is hard to think of another place in medieval Europe where such issues would be settled-and indeed settled independently-by judges talking the common language of their profession rather than by the political maneuvering or coercion of the parties."10 This degree of judicial competence and independence still eludes many countries in the developing world today. This degree of judicial competence and independence still eludes many countries in the developing world today.
By the time we get to the great const.i.tutional crises of the seventeenth century, then, protecting the rule of law against monarchs who wanted to bend or break it had become a great rallying cry in the defense of English liberty and a source of solidarity for those groups in Parliament opposing the king. The threat to the law that emerged in the period of the early Stuarts (16031649) was the king"s Court of Star Chamber, a court of obscure origin and jurisdiction that evaded the usual procedural protections of the ordinary courts (including trial by jury) in pursuit of more "efficient" prosecution of crimes. Under the second Stuart king, Charles I ( 16001649), it had become politicized and was used not simply for criminal prosecutions but also to go after perceived enemies of the Crown.11 There was no greater embodiment of the independence of English law than Sir Edward c.o.ke (15521634), a jurist and legal scholar who eventually rose to be chief justice of the King"s Bench. In his various legal roles, he unbendingly stood up to political authorities and to the king himself in support of the law against their encroachment. When James I sought to shift certain cases from Common Law to ecclesiastical jurisdiction, c.o.ke greatly offended him by saying that the king did not have sufficient authority to interpret the law as he chose. The king a.s.serted that it was treasonable to maintain that he should be under the law, to which c.o.ke responded by quoting Bracton to the effect that "quod Rex non debet esse sub homine set sub deo et lege" "quod Rex non debet esse sub homine set sub deo et lege" (the king should not be under man but under G.o.d and the law). (the king should not be under man but under G.o.d and the law).12 For this and other confrontations with royal authority, c.o.ke was eventually dismissed from his legal posts, whereupon he joined Parliament as a leader of the anti-Royalist side. For this and other confrontations with royal authority, c.o.ke was eventually dismissed from his legal posts, whereupon he joined Parliament as a leader of the anti-Royalist side.
Religion as the Basis for Collective Action Unlike the French, Spanish, Hungarian, and Russian cases, English resistance to absolutist power was overlaid with a religious dimension that immensely strengthened the solidarity of those on the parliamentary side. The first Stuart king, James I, was the son of the executed Mary Tudor, the Roman Catholic queen of the Scots, while his son Charles I was married to the French king Louis XIII"s sister Henrietta Maria. While both professed Protestantism, they were frequently suspected of having pro-Catholic sympathies. The Anglicanism of Archbishop Laud sought to bring the English national church back closer to Catholic practice with regard to emphasis on ritual, a shift that was bitterly resented by the Puritan sects. The early Stuarts" doctrine of absolutism and the divine right of kings echoed arguments being made by French and Spanish Catholic monarchs, and in this many Protestants saw a vast international popish conspiracy to deprive the English of their natural rights. The rebellion in Catholic Ireland of 1641 struck close to home; reports of atrocities committed against Protestant settlers seemed to confirm the worst fears of many English about the consequences of spreading international Catholicism. There was in this more than a grain of truth; the Spanish king had sent the Armada against England at the end of the sixteenth century and was involved in an eighty-year struggle to subdue the Protestant United Provinces of the Netherlands. This cause would be taken up again in the late seventeenth century by Louis XIV of France, who invaded Holland and had a secret sympathizer in the last Catholic king of England, James II.
In the enormous historiography on the English Civil War, there have been cycles of revisionism that have shifted scholarly understanding of the motives for the war in step with prevailing intellectual fashions, to the point that some historians have despaired of ever coming to a consensus.13 Many of the twentieth-century interpretations downplayed the religious motivations of the actors in the war and saw religious ideology as a mask or justification for cla.s.s or sectional economic interests. There was in fact a complex interplay between religion and cla.s.s in this period, and no simple mapping between religion and political allegiance. There were Anglicans who took the side of Parliament, and Protestants who were royalists; many high church Anglicans saw the nonconformist sects like the Congregationalists and Quakers as a greater threat to the moral order than the Catholic church. Many of the twentieth-century interpretations downplayed the religious motivations of the actors in the war and saw religious ideology as a mask or justification for cla.s.s or sectional economic interests. There was in fact a complex interplay between religion and cla.s.s in this period, and no simple mapping between religion and political allegiance. There were Anglicans who took the side of Parliament, and Protestants who were royalists; many high church Anglicans saw the nonconformist sects like the Congregationalists and Quakers as a greater threat to the moral order than the Catholic church.14 It was clear that the more radical Protestant sects served as vehicles for social mobilization and economic advancement, since they provided outlets for protest and community that were unavailable through more traditional and hierarchical religious channels. It was clear that the more radical Protestant sects served as vehicles for social mobilization and economic advancement, since they provided outlets for protest and community that were unavailable through more traditional and hierarchical religious channels.
On the other hand, even if one argues that the conflict was not primarily over religion, it is still clear that religion had a major effect in mobilizing political actors and increasing the scope of collective action. This was particularly true on the parliamentary side and in the New Model Army created by Parliament, which over time became a hotbed of antiroyalist radicalism in no small measure because of the religious convictions of many of its officers. During the Glorious Revolution, the willingness of the parliamentary side to accept a foreign pretender, William of Orange, as king in place of the country"s legitimate monarch, James II, would have been much harder to explain but for the fact that the former was Protestant and the latter Catholic.
Thus the organization of England into local, self-governing bodies, the rootedness of law and belief in the sanct.i.ty of property rights, and the a.s.sociation of monarchy with a global Catholic conspiracy all contributed to a striking degree of solidarity on the parliamentary side.
FREE CITIES AND THE BOURGEOISIE.
Contemporary conventional wisdom has it that democracy will not emerge without the existence of a strong middle cla.s.s, that is, a group of people who own some property and are neither elites nor the rural poor. This notion finds its origins in English political development, which to a greater degree than any other European country (with the possible exception of Holland) saw the early emergence of cities and an urban-based bourgeoisie. The urban middle cla.s.s played a key role in Parliament and gained substantial economic and political power well prior to the Civil War and Glorious Revolution. It was a powerful counterweight to the great lords and the king in their three-way contest for power. The rise of an urban bourgeoisie was part of a broader Western European shift that encompa.s.sed the Low Countries, northern Italy, and the Hanseatic port cities of northern Germany as well. This important phenomenon has been described at length by authors from Karl Marx to Max Weber to Henri Pirenne.15 Marx made the "rise of the bourgeoisie" the centerpiece of his entire theory of modernization, a necessary and inevitable stage in the developmental process of all societies. Marx made the "rise of the bourgeoisie" the centerpiece of his entire theory of modernization, a necessary and inevitable stage in the developmental process of all societies.
The existence of free cities explains, as we saw in chapter 25 25, the emanc.i.p.ation of the serfs in Western Europe. The emergence of a strong, cohesive bourgeois cla.s.s was important to English political development and to the triumph of Parliament. But the role played by the bourgeoisie in English and Western European history was in many ways exceptional, the result of contingent circ.u.mstances that did not exist in other European countries. Particularly east of the Elbe, there were relatively few independent, self-governing commercial cities living under their own laws and protected by their own militias. Cities were rather more like Chinese ones, administrative centers dominated by local lords, which also happened to serve as commercial hubs. Marx"s influence has been such that many generations of students have continued to see the "rise of the bourgeoisie" as something that simply happens as a concomitant of economic modernization, without the need for further explanation, and to see that cla.s.s"s political power as flowing from its economic power.16 Writing almost seventy-five years before Marx, Adam Smith in The Wealth of Nations The Wealth of Nations provided a more nuanced and ultimately convincing account of the provenance of the bourgeoisie, one that sees politics as cause as much as consequence of its rise. At the beginning of book three of the first volume, Smith notes that there should be a natural progression in what he calls "opulence," or economic growth, starting with improved agricultural productivity, leading to greater internal trade between countryside and town, and only in the end to increased international trade. However, he notes, in the modern states of Europe the order was reversed: international trade developed before inland trade; only after the former flourished was there a breakdown in the political hegemony of the great barons and landowners. provided a more nuanced and ultimately convincing account of the provenance of the bourgeoisie, one that sees politics as cause as much as consequence of its rise. At the beginning of book three of the first volume, Smith notes that there should be a natural progression in what he calls "opulence," or economic growth, starting with improved agricultural productivity, leading to greater internal trade between countryside and town, and only in the end to increased international trade. However, he notes, in the modern states of Europe the order was reversed: international trade developed before inland trade; only after the former flourished was there a breakdown in the political hegemony of the great barons and landowners.17 There were, according to Smith, several reasons for this peculiar sequence. One was the fact that most land after the fall of the Roman Empire was held by great barons who were more interested in preserving their political power than in maximizing the returns on their property. For this reason they created rules of primogeniture and entail to prevent the fragmentation of their estates. In addition, they reduced agricultural laborers to the status of serfs or slaves, who according to Smith had no incentives to work and invest in their lands. Another reason why they didn"t maximize their returns was a simple lack of consumption items on which to spend a surplus, given the collapse of trade in the Dark Ages. As a result, anyone with wealth and power had no choice but to share it with a large group of retainers.18 Smith goes on to note that the towns and cities that emerged in the Middle Ages were at first inhabited by "tradesmen and mechanicks" who were of lower cla.s.s or fully servile status but who had escaped from the control of their lords and found refuge in the city. Over time they were granted privileges by kings to give away their own daughters in marriage, to raise their own militias, and eventually to live under their own laws as a corporate ent.i.ty. This was the origin of the bourgeois cla.s.s, though Adam Smith does not use this term to describe them. Unlike Marx, however, Smith notes that there was an important political precondition for the rise of independent cities:
The lords despised the burghers, whom they considered not only as of a different order, but as a parcel of emanc.i.p.ated slaves, almost of a different species from themselves. The wealth of the burghers never failed to provoke their envy and indignation, and they plundered them upon every occasion without mercy or remorse. The burghers naturally hated and feared the lords. The king hated and feared them too; but though perhaps he might despise, he had no reason either to hate or fear the burghers. Mutual interest, therefore, disposed them to support the king, and the king to support them against the lords.19
Smith adds that this is why the kings granted cities independent charters and laws, to allow them to act as a counterweight to the lords with whom they were locked in struggle.
Cities and the bourgeoisie, then, do not simply come into being as a result of economic growth and technological change, as Marx believed. They are initially weak and vulnerable, and unless they are granted political protection, they will be subordinated to the powerful territorial lords. This was exactly what happened in Poland, Hungary, Russia, and other lands east of the Elbe, where a different configuration of political power either made monarchs weak or induced them to side with one or another stratum of the aristocracy against against the interests of the townsmen. For this reason, there was never a strong, independent bourgeoisie in Eastern Europe. A technologically advanced capitalist market was not introduced by townsmen but by progressive landowners, or by the state itself, and therefore failed to flourish to the same extent. the interests of the townsmen. For this reason, there was never a strong, independent bourgeoisie in Eastern Europe. A technologically advanced capitalist market was not introduced by townsmen but by progressive landowners, or by the state itself, and therefore failed to flourish to the same extent.
Once a city-based capitalist market economy appears, we leave the old Malthusian world and begin to enter into a modern economic system where productivity increases become much more routine. At that point, the conditions for political development change as well, through the mechanism of an increasingly wealthy bourgeois cla.s.s that is more and more in a position to undermine the power of the old landed order. Smith suggests that the old elites were seduced into giving up their political power for the sake of money-a diamond buckle "fitter to be the playthings of children than the serious pursuits of men"-which the old agricultural economy was incapable of producing.20 Thus began a truly modern system of political development in which political change could be induced by economic and social change. But there was a political precondition for the rise of a capitalist cla.s.s in the first place-the mutual hatred of the townsmen and the king for the great lords. Where this condition did not prevail, as in many parts of Eastern Europe, no such cla.s.s emerged. Thus began a truly modern system of political development in which political change could be induced by economic and social change. But there was a political precondition for the rise of a capitalist cla.s.s in the first place-the mutual hatred of the townsmen and the king for the great lords. Where this condition did not prevail, as in many parts of Eastern Europe, no such cla.s.s emerged.
THE STRUGGLE OVER TAXATION.
English parliaments had begun meeting regularly since the thirteenth century on a far more regular basis than their French, Spanish, or Russian counterparts. Their original function was, as noted, judicial, but over time they came to play a much broader political role as joint rulers with the king. The role of Parliament in approving taxation was particularly important, since Parliament included a large majority of the realm"s landowners whose a.s.sets and income served as a national tax base. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the House of Commons had worked closely with English monarchs to remove incompetent or corrupt officials, and took on a regular role in financial oversight of the monies it had appropriated. 21 21 The balance of forces that existed in England in 1641, on the eve of the Civil War, is ill.u.s.trated in The balance of forces that existed in England in 1641, on the eve of the Civil War, is ill.u.s.trated in Figure 5 Figure 5.
In 1629, Charles I had dissolved Parliament and commenced an elevenyear period of "personal rule" in which he sought to expand state power at the expense of Parliament. This led to a struggle between Charles and his parliamentary opponents over a number of issues, some of which have been touched upon already. Many in Parliament disliked the authoritarian Anglicanism of Archbishop Laud and suspected Charles of pro-Catholic sympathies given his interest in building diplomatic ties to France and Spain. The religious issue converged with the defense of the rule of law, as novel bodies like the Star Chamber, the High Commission, and the Council of the North undertook prosecutions against anti-Episcopal Puritans. The Star Chamber"s brutal arrest and torture of a Puritan preacher, Alexander Leighton, without benefit of due process, was regarded as a particularly egregious abuse of both religious and royal authority.
But two other issues loomed equally large at the time. One was the right of the king to raise taxes without parliamentary approval. The king raised new customs duties, levied arbitrary penalties against landowners, reintroduced a host of monopolies in ways that circ.u.mvented an act prohibiting them, and raised "ship money" to pay for naval rearmament in a time of peace.22 The English tax system had evolved in a very different way from that of the French. The English n.o.bility and gentry had not bought themselves special privileges and exemptions in the manner of the French, with the result that the largest part of the tax burden actually fell on those relatively wealthy individuals represented in Parliament. With reasons possibly having to do with the greater sense of local solidarity in England, the wealthier cla.s.ses did not conspire with the Crown to shift the tax burden onto the peasantry, artisans, or newly rich middle cla.s.ses, and therefore had a direct stake in the powers and prerogatives of Parliament. The English tax system had evolved in a very different way from that of the French. The English n.o.bility and gentry had not bought themselves special privileges and exemptions in the manner of the French, with the result that the largest part of the tax burden actually fell on those relatively wealthy individuals represented in Parliament. With reasons possibly having to do with the greater sense of local solidarity in England, the wealthier cla.s.ses did not conspire with the Crown to shift the tax burden onto the peasantry, artisans, or newly rich middle cla.s.ses, and therefore had a direct stake in the powers and prerogatives of Parliament.
FIGURE 5. ENGLAND.
The second conflict concerned political corruption. England was no less exempt from the practice of patrimonialism and venal officeholding than were France and Spain. Beginning in Tudor times, royal offices were increasingly obtained on the basis of political patronage, with advancement coming not on the basis of merit but on one"s membership in a variety of patron-client groups.23 Offices were put up for sale and became heritable property, and under the early Stuarts the French practices of tax farming (for customs duties) and inside finance (borrowing from state officials) were introduced. The Crown established royal commissions of inquiry which, like the French chambers of justice, were used to shake down wealthy insiders on the grounds of personal corruption. Offices were put up for sale and became heritable property, and under the early Stuarts the French practices of tax farming (for customs duties) and inside finance (borrowing from state officials) were introduced. The Crown established royal commissions of inquiry which, like the French chambers of justice, were used to shake down wealthy insiders on the grounds of personal corruption.24 The Civil War that broke out in 1641 dragged on for a decade and eventually led to victory for the parliamentary side and the beheading of Charles I in 1649. But the long struggle between king and Parliament was not ultimately settled by force of arms, though violence and the latent threat of violence were important determinants of the outcome.25 The parliamentarians who emerged victorious discredited their own side by their execution of the king, and narrowed their political base by following increasingly radical policies during the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell. It was therefore with a certain sense of relief that Charles"s son was restored as Charles II in 1660, and the country returned to a sense of normality after two decades of intense political conflict. The parliamentarians who emerged victorious discredited their own side by their execution of the king, and narrowed their political base by following increasingly radical policies during the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell. It was therefore with a certain sense of relief that Charles"s son was restored as Charles II in 1660, and the country returned to a sense of normality after two decades of intense political conflict.
The Restoration did succeed in resolving one of the issues that provoked the Civil War, which was the problem of corruption. Parliament had undertaken many governmental reforms during the Civil War and Protectorate, such as the creation of a well-organized, modern New Model Army and the purging of corrupt royalist officials. But Charles II"s rule brought back many of the corrupt practices of the early Stuarts, including sale of offices, patronage appointments, and the like. A number of factors conspired, however, to create a reform coalition within the English government that succeeded in beating back these practices.
The first was the outbreak of the Second Dutch War (16651667), which, when combined with outbreaks of plague and the great fire of London, led to a serious deterioration of English defenses to the point that the Dutch were able to sail up the Thames and burn the English naval yards. France as well was gaining ground under Louis XIV with an aggressive foreign policy that threatened the existing balance of power on the Continent, and it was clear that military spending would have to rise. The second was the fact that Charles hoped to be able to live within his means in order to avoid having to go to Parliament for extraordinary revenue requests. Third was the emergence of a group of extremely talented and astute reformers within the government, including Sir George Downing and the diarist Samuel Pepys, who looked with concern at mounting foreign threats and recognized that the fiscal system and general administration needed to be made far more efficient.26 And finally, there was Parliament, which had emerged from the Civil War and Protectorate suspicious of waste and corruption in a government that was diverting their own tax money to nonpublic purposes. And finally, there was Parliament, which had emerged from the Civil War and Protectorate suspicious of waste and corruption in a government that was diverting their own tax money to nonpublic purposes.
The confluence of these different pressures allowed the Second Treasury Commission, organized by Downing, to recommend and implement an important set of reforms that put English public administration on a much more modern and nonpatrimonial footing. It took power away from the exchequer, which since Tudor days had been a hotbed of corrupt officeholding, and put it in the hands of a reformed Treasury Department that became the master accountant for all of the government"s spending departments. Instead of going to inside financiers, it floated new bonds called Treasury orders that were marketed to the general public and were thus subject to the discipline of the public bond market. And finally, it converted proprietary offices into "at pleasure" posts and eliminated the sale of further offices.27 The reform efforts that took place after 1667 dealt a serious blow to patrimonial practices and ensured that the English state would administer public finances far more efficiently than France or Spain. The struggle against corrupt government is never decisively won or lost, and many of the reforms initiated by Downing in the 1660s were not fully implemented until early in the eighteenth century. Nor did these early reform efforts obviate the need for subsequent commissions and inquiries, since patrimonialism always seeks to reinsert itself over time.
But the late seventeenth century does provide an important model of how patrimonialism can be reversed that has some relevance to present-day anticorruption efforts. All of the elements that came together to produce the late Stuart reforms are still critical: an external environment that puts fiscal pressure on the government to improve its performance; a chief executive who, if not personally leading the reform effort, is at least not blocking it; reform champions within the government who have sufficient political support to carry out their program; and finally, strong political pressure from below on the part of those who are paying taxes to the government and don"t want to see their money wasted.
Many recent anticorruption efforts by international inst.i.tutions like the World Bank or Britain"s Department of International Development have foundered because one or another of these elements was not in place. One problematic characteristic of the contemporary world is that corrupt governments often do not have to go to their own citizens for revenues the way Charles II did and have no parliament or civil society watching over the way their money is spent. Instead, government income comes from natural resources or aid from international donors, who do not demand accountability for how their money is spent. Samuel Huntington has suggested that if the rallying cry of the English Parliament was "no taxation without representation," today"s slogan ought to be "no representation without taxation," since it is the latter that best incentivizes political partic.i.p.ation.28 THE GLORIOUS REVOLUTION.
The denouement of the prolonged struggle between king and Parliament was the Glorious Revolution of 16881689, which forced James II to abdicate. William of Orange was brought from Holland and placed on the throne as King William III. The proximate cause of the crisis had been the Catholic James"s efforts to increase the size of the military and to staff it with Catholic officers, which raised immediate suspicions that he intended to use the army to a.s.sert absolutist power in possible alliance with France and other Catholic powers. The larger issue at stake, however, was the same as the one that had driven the struggles of Parliament against the early Stuarts and led to the Civil War: that legitimacy should ultimately be based upon the consent of the governed, and that the king did not have the right to impose policies without it. The settlement that came out of the crisis had important const.i.tutional, religious, financial, and military dimensions. Const.i.tutionally, it established the principle that the king could not raise an army without Parliament"s consent; the latter pa.s.sed a bill defining the rights of Englishmen that the state could not contravene. Financially, the settlement firmly established the principle that new taxes could not be raised without the express consent of Parliament. Religiously, the settlement forbade Catholics from becoming king or queen of England, and included a toleration bill that increased the rights of dissenting Protestants (though not of Catholics, Jews, or Socinians).29 Finally, the settlement made possible a huge expansion of the English state by allowing the government to issue much higher levels of debt. While the principle of full parliamentary sovereignty was not finally established until some years later, the Glorious Revolution is rightly seen as a major watershed in the development of modern democracy. Finally, the settlement made possible a huge expansion of the English state by allowing the government to issue much higher levels of debt. While the principle of full parliamentary sovereignty was not finally established until some years later, the Glorious Revolution is rightly seen as a major watershed in the development of modern democracy.30 The Glorious Revolution led to a major shift in ideas concerning political legitimacy. The philosopher John Locke, who was an observer and partic.i.p.ant in all of these events, expanded on Thomas Hobbes"s argument that the state was the result of a social contract entered into for the purpose of guaranteeing rights that existed universally by nature.31 His His First Treatise of Government First Treatise of Government attacked Sir Robert Filmer"s justification of monarchy on the basis of divine right, and his attacked Sir Robert Filmer"s justification of monarchy on the basis of divine right, and his Second Treatise Second Treatise argued, against Hobbes, that a monarch who had become a tyrant by violating the natural rights of his subjects could be replaced by them. It was critical to the const.i.tutional settlement of 1689 that these principles were stated in universal terms: the Glorious Revolution was not about one ruler or set of elites grabbing control of the state and its rents from another, but about the principle upon which all subsequent rulers would be chosen. There is a very short distance from Locke"s argued, against Hobbes, that a monarch who had become a tyrant by violating the natural rights of his subjects could be replaced by them. It was critical to the const.i.tutional settlement of 1689 that these principles were stated in universal terms: the Glorious Revolution was not about one ruler or set of elites grabbing control of the state and its rents from another, but about the principle upon which all subsequent rulers would be chosen. There is a very short distance from Locke"s Second Treatise on Government Second Treatise on Government to the American Revolution and the const.i.tutional theories of the Founding Fathers. While modern democracy has many complex dimensions, the fundamental principle that governments can legitimately rule only with the consent of the governed was firmly established by the events of 16881689. to the American Revolution and the const.i.tutional theories of the Founding Fathers. While modern democracy has many complex dimensions, the fundamental principle that governments can legitimately rule only with the consent of the governed was firmly established by the events of 16881689.
Although the Glorious Revolution inst.i.tutionalized the principle of political accountability and representative government, it did not yet herald the arrival of democracy. The English Parliament in this period was chosen by only a small proportion of the population. In it sat the upper cla.s.ses, burgesses, and the gentry, the latter of whom were the most important political cla.s.s in England and represented, according to Peter Laslett, perhaps 4 to 5 percent of the entire population.32 A much broader group of people partic.i.p.ated in local governance by sitting on juries and cooperating in the work of the hundreds and counties, and included a large part of the yeoman cla.s.s of better-off farmers. Including this group would increase political partic.i.p.ation to something closer to 20 percent of the male adult population. A much broader group of people partic.i.p.ated in local governance by sitting on juries and cooperating in the work of the hundreds and counties, and included a large part of the yeoman cla.s.s of better-off farmers. Including this group would increase political partic.i.p.ation to something closer to 20 percent of the male adult population.33 Democracy as we understand it today-the right of all adult persons to vote regardless of s.e.x, race, or social status-was not implemented in either Britain or the United States until well into the twentieth century. Like the American Declaration of Independence, however, the Glorious Revolution did establish the principle of popular consent, leaving it up to succeeding generations to widen the circle of those considered the "people" in a political sense. Democracy as we understand it today-the right of all adult persons to vote regardless of s.e.x, race, or social status-was not implemented in either Britain or the United States until well into the twentieth century. Like the American Declaration of Independence, however, the Glorious Revolution did establish the principle of popular consent, leaving it up to succeeding generations to widen the circle of those considered the "people" in a political sense.
The significance of the Glorious Revolution is not that it marked the onset of secure property rights in England, as some have argued.34 Strong property rights had been established centuries earlier. Individuals, including women, exercised the right to buy and sell property as far back as the thirteenth century (see chapter Strong property rights had been established centuries earlier. Individuals, including women, exercised the right to buy and sell property as far back as the thirteenth century (see chapter 14 14). The Common Law and the multiplicity of royal, county, and hundred courts allowed nonelite landowners to litigate property disputes outside of the jurisdiction of the local lord. A strong capitalist economy had already emerged by the late seventeenth century, as had a growing middle cla.s.s who were partic.i.p.ants in the struggle against Stuart absolutism. The success of the Glorious Revolution was therefore more a consequence of the existence of strong, credible property rights than a cause of them. Englishmen with property felt they had something important to defend.
Nor did the Glorious Revolution give newly powerful taxpayers an excuse for cutting their own taxes, as Mancur Olson has suggested.35 Exactly the opposite happened: government spending as a percentage of national income in England shot up from 11 percent of GDP in 16891697 to 17 percent in 17411748 and almost 24 percent in 17781783. Exactly the opposite happened: government spending as a percentage of national income in England shot up from 11 percent of GDP in 16891697 to 17 percent in 17411748 and almost 24 percent in 17781783.36 In peak years during the eighteenth century, Britain collected as much as 30 percent in taxes. In peak years during the eighteenth century, Britain collected as much as 30 percent in taxes.
One of the Glorious Revolution"s main accomplishments was to make taxation legitimate because it was henceforth clearly based on consent. Democratic publics do not necessarily always resist high taxes, as long as they think they are necessary for an important public purpose like defense of the nation. What they dislike is taxes being taken from them illegally, or public monies that are wasted or that go to corrupt purposes. In the years following the Glorious Revolution, England was plunged into two expensive wars with Louis XIV"s France: the Nine Years" War (16891697) and the War of the Spanish Succession (17021713). Two decades of nearly continuous warfare proved enormously expensive, with the size of the English fleet nearly doubling between 1688 and 1697 alone. Taxpayers were willing to support the costs of this and later wars because they were consulted on the wisdom of the wars themselves and asked to approve the tax burden imposed. The much higher rates of British taxation did not, needless to say, stifle the capitalist revolution.37 The contrast with absolutist France was stark. Because France admitted no principle of consent, taxes had to be extracted by force. The government was never able to collect more than 1215 percent of its national product in taxes over the same period, and often achieved much less. The elites in French society who could best afford to pay them succeeded in buying themselves special exemptions and privileges, which meant that the tax burden fell on the weakest members of society. As a result, France, with a population nearly four times that of Britain, found itself bankrupt on the death of Louis XIV in 1715.
The Glorious Revolution and the fiscal and banking reforms undertaken in its wake, such as the establishment of the Bank of England in 1694, did indeed revolutionize public finance. They allowed the government to borrow on transparent public debt markets in ways unavailable to France or Spain. As a result, levels of government borrowing shot up substantially in the eighteenth century, allowing the British state to grow much larger.
TO THE AMERICAN AND FRENCH REVOLUTIONS.
I am ending the account of political development in this volume on the eve of the American and French revolutions at the end of the eighteenth century. There is a certain logic for stopping at this point. Alexandre Kojeve, the great Russian-French interpreter of Hegel, argued that history as such had ended in the year 1806 with the Battle of Jena-Auerstadt, when Napoleon defeated the Prussian monarchy and brought the principles of liberty and equality to Hegel"s part of Europe. In his typically ironic and playful way, Kojeve suggested that everything that had happened since 1806, including the sturm und drang of the twentieth century with its great wars and revolutions, was simply a matter of backfilling. That is, the basic principles of modern government had been established by the time of the Battle of Jena; the task thereafter was not to find new principles and a higher political order but rather to implement them through larger and larger parts of the world.38 I believe that Kojeve"s a.s.sertion still deserves to be taken seriously. The three components of a modern political order-a strong and capable state, the state"s subordination to a rule of law, and government accountability to all citizens-had all been established in one or another part of the world by the end of the eighteenth century. China had developed a powerful state early on; the rule of law existed in India, the Middle East, and Europe; and in Britain, accountable government appeared for the first time. Political development in the years subsequent to the Battle of Jena involved the replication of these inst.i.tutions across the world, but not in their being supplemented by fundamentally new ones. Communism aspired to do this in the twentieth century but has all but disappeared from the world scene in the twenty-first.
England was the first large country in which all these elements came together at once. The three components were highly interdependent. Without a strong early state, there would not have been a rule of law and a broad perception of legitimate property rights. Without a strong rule of law and legitimate property rights, the Commons would never have been motivated to come together to impose accountability on the English monarchy. And without the principle of accountability, the British state would never have emerged as the great power it became by the time of the French Revolution.
A number of other European states, including the Netherlands, Denmark, and Sweden, also succeeded in putting together the state, rule of law, and accountability in a single package by the nineteenth century. The specific routes by which they got to this outcome differed substantially from that of Britain, but it is sufficient to recognize that once this package had been put together the first time, it produced a state so powerful, legitimate, and friendly to economic growth that it became a model to be applied throughout the world.39 How the application of that model has fared in countries lacking the specific historical and social conditions of Britain will be the subject of the second volume of this work. How the application of that model has fared in countries lacking the specific historical and social conditions of Britain will be the subject of the second volume of this work.
28.
WHY ACCOUNTABILITY? WHY ABSOLUTISM?.
The previous cases compared; why England"s path to representative government was not the only one possible; getting to Denmark; how the historical discussion is relevant to democratic struggles in the present
We have now covered five European cases leading to four divergent outcomes with regard to accountability and representative inst.i.tutions. France and Spain saw the emergence of a weak absolutism, in which no principle of parliamentary accountability was established. Both states achieved this result by selling themselves off piecemeal to a wide variety of elites, whose privileges and exemptions protected them-but not the rest of their societies-from arbitrary state power. In Russia, a more thoroughgoing Chinese-style absolutism was established, in which the monarchy could dominate its own elites by conscripting them into state service. In Hungary, a strong and cohesive elite succeeded in putting const.i.tutional checks on the power of the monarch and established a principle of accountability. But these checks were so strong that they hobbled the ability of the state itself to function cohesively. Finally, only in England did a powerful Parliament succeed in imposing a principle of accountability on the king, but in a way that did not undermine a powerful and unified sovereignty. The question then is, What accounts for the difference in these outcomes?
A very simple model can explain this variance, which has to do with the balance of power among only four groups of political actors in the agrarian societies we have covered. These are the state itself, represented by the king; the upper n.o.bility; the gentry; and what I call the Third Estate. This fourfold division oversimplifies things tremendously but is nonetheless helpful in understanding outcomes.
The state emerged in Europe when certain n.o.ble houses achieved a first-mover advantage in becoming more powerful than the others-the Capetians in France, the arpads in H