Frances Rabbitts reviews Samuel Burgess’ timely defence of Britain’s political heritage.
Mention the word ‘conservatism’ these days in the context of politics and many will automatically assume you are referring to the Conservative Party. The word may also trigger an adverse reaction, as it has gathered some negative connotations: unfettered greed, elitism, obstinate refusal to accept change.
In this timely, concise volume from Wilberforce Publications, Samuel Burgess pares away the vagaries and peculiarities of party politics from the much longer-standing (even ancient) political/philosophical tradition of conservatism, acknowledging where the former and the latter have coincided over the years, but also where they have parted company.
In so doing, Burgess ‘rediscovers’ conservatism as a rich heritage of principles and values with a huge amount to offer in modern-day Britain. His contention is that politics is a moral endeavour (being concerned with the bettering of individual, civic and national life) and that only conservatism is morally substantial enough to guide us in the days ahead.
At 190 pages this is a relatively slim volume, but the prose is considered, eloquent and thought-provoking. Complex subjects are dealt with cogently, though it is by no means a light read.
Burgess starts by dispelling the myth that conservatism is just about preserving the status quo, unpacking its substantive principles, its historic roots in English common law and its debt to the ‘father’ of modern conservatism, Edmund Burke, who is quoted regularly thereafter. Eight subsequent chapters consider matters of civic importance in Britain today, including the idea of the nation-state, the market, freedom under law, culture, religion, the environment and even the idea of beauty, showcasing in relation to each the virtues of a truly conservative approach.
Burgess does not provide comprehensive accounts of these subjects (or the book would be far longer than it is) but offers succinct outlines in accordance with his core argument. As such, this is a book that will start conversations more than finish them. But Burgess undoubtedly achieves his overall goal: to set conservatism back on the table as a valid philosophy for our time (and, presumably, to remind those who ally themselves with the ‘Conservative’ Party what they ought to be standing for).
Burgess ‘rediscovers’ conservatism as a rich heritage of principles and values with a huge amount to offer in modern-day Britain.
In unpacking the goods of conservatism it is obviously necessary to highlight how and why other approaches have failed. Burgess strikes a good balance, not indulging in excessive debunking of philosophies like liberalism and socialism but letting the virtues of conservatism speak for themselves. As such, the book is a refreshingly constructive, uplifting read.
The beauty of conservatism, according to Burgess, is that it is not so much a grand political project as a common-sense set of principles, rooted in an objective view of reality and morality (i.e. truth really exists, as do objective standards of good and evil). These principles can be applied to the specifics of any issue or circumstance. Conservatism is therefore a creative, flexible philosophy which allows for society to develop according to the uniqueness of individual places and people – provided they remain rooted in the soil of morality. Conservatism is, according to Burgess, “a political expression of a belief in moral order” (p162).
Unlike liberalism and socialism, conservatism recognises that human nature contains both good and evil and seeks to harness this complex, messy moral reality for the betterment of society. This realism gives conservatism appeal to everyone, not just to Christians. However, throughout the book we catch glimpses of conservatism’s Christian roots – for instance its understanding that true freedom is not about license and permissiveness, but about deference to legitimate authority and flourishing within good moral boundaries.
As the chapters unfold, we discover that conservatism is a friend of gradual, organic change (rather than overnight revolution) and is innately social, recognising the importance of kinship and community. Indeed, we discover that conservatism has people and their best interests at its heart.
Because each chapter is relatively brief given the depth of the subject material, it would have been good to have some further reading recommended at chapter ends. In places, Burgess could also do more to connect his comments back into his main argument about conservatism, especially for readers without a grounding in political philosophy. But these criticisms are minor and do not detract from the overall worth of the book.
Unlike liberalism and socialism, conservatism recognises that human nature contains both good and evil and seeks to harness this complex, messy moral reality for the betterment of society.
Today, the stakes are high. Transnational governance threatens to supersede the nation-state, libertarian individualism is leading to community disintegration and aggressive secular liberalism is stifling freedom of speech. We desperately need to recover a more reasonable, positive, common-sense approach. More than this, we need to have the confidence to put morality and belief back at the heart of politics, recognising that this is the only route to social order and true flourishing.
These are complex issues, but Burgess provides a robust, hopeful defence of why conservatism’s framework for a flourishing society is unparalleled. Today, we seem intent on throwing away its hard-won benefits, accrued over centuries, and these will not be recouped overnight. Our challenge is not to recreate the past, however, but to learn from it and look to the future. The first step is to re-envision ourselves, strengthening our confidence in values which have been much derided and ‘deconstructed’ in recent years. In this, Burgess has done us all a great service.
Whether or not we can recover what has been lost without wholesale repentance and return to belief in God, Burgess leaves unanswered. Nevertheless, the book remains an empowering reminder that Christian beliefs birthed a rich political tradition in Britain with much to commend itself to our modern age. Conservative principles are grounded in timeless truths and will still be standing when all other ideologies have crumbled.
This book is a must-read for those in government, for anyone concerned about how to blend faith with politics and for all who seek a better understanding of how Judeo-Christianity has blessed our politics in the past and could yet do so again.
‘The Moral Case for Conservatism’ (2019, Wilberforce Publications, paperback, e-book) is available online for £10 (£5.49 on Kindle).
‘Edmund Burke’s Battle with Liberalism’ by Samuel Burgess (2017, Wilberforce Publications)
The British people benefit from an extraordinary political heritage, but few know very much about it, or about the debt we owe to the faithful individuals who went before us and helped to create it. 18th-Century Irish statesman Edmund Burke is one such giant, on whose shoulders we now stand.
In this, Samuel Burgess’s first book, we are treated to an in-depth look at the ‘father’ of modern conservatism and his political legacy. Edmund Burke sought to uphold a biblical approach to politics at a time when the tyranny and moral anarchy of the French Revolution were threatening to spill across the Channel into Britain, ideologically and physically.
Burke’s political defence of the realm was influential at the time, but his was also a prophetic voice. Though libertarianism was rejected in the 18th Century as too radical, it enjoyed a resurgence in the late 20th Century and now dominates our politics, media, language and culture, paving the way once again to coercion and authoritarianism.
Burke’s political defence of the realm was influential at the time, but his was also a prophetic voice.
In seven chapters, Burgess unpacks Burke’s Christian beliefs and how they shaped his approach to politics. As he goes, Burgess shows how unique the Christian conservative tradition is in its beliefs about humanity and the world and what it offers in an era of political turbulence and confusion.
In the latter part of the book, there is some similarity with material in ‘The Moral Case for Conservatism’, but the difference in focus between the two means that both books are still worthwhile purchases. ‘Edmund Burke’s Battle with Liberalism’ lays a good historical foundation for ‘The Moral Case for Conservatism’ and the books can be seen as companion volumes.
Burgess’s first book is perhaps a little less accessible and more academic than his second, but no less important. Apart from anything else, it is a solid encouragement that the path we tread today has been trodden before: that great men of faith have gone before us, battling the same powers, learning the same lessons and shining a light on the way forward which we would do well to heed. Edmund Burke is not a well-known name outside the realm of political theory, but it ought to be. We owe him much.
‘Edmund Burke’s Battle with Liberalism’ (180pp) is available from Amazon for £9.99 (paperback) or £4.99 (Kindle). Find out more on the Wilberforce Publications website.
A meditation on Proverbs 28:2
In the last few days I have found myself pondering this verse in the book of Proverbs: “When there is moral rot within a nation, its government topples easily. But wise and knowledgeable leaders bring stability” (Prov 28:2 NLT). It seemed particularly striking in the context of the political turmoil currently engulfing Britain and a number of other countries at the moment.
Of course, it is dangerous to apply Old Testament passages to any modern political system. The world has changed: no modern nation is like ancient Israel and I doubt that any politician would be elected in a modern democracy if they promised to ‘rule like King David’.
Nevertheless, despite the vast gulf of time and culture between that world and ours, there is much in the wisdom of the Old Testament that is profoundly relevant to 21st-Century politics. Let me suggest that this verse has three truths.
The simplest truth first: stability is a good thing. Revolutions may be very exciting but after you’ve taken a country apart it takes a long time to put it back together again. Stability may not make headlines and isn’t the most exciting of political goals but it is a condition that allows law and order to exist and allows everybody to get on with their lives.
The Old Testament illustrates the value of stability as it recounts the history of God’s people after Solomon’s death. The northern kingdom, which increasingly drifted away from the worship of the one true God, had a turbulent history in which it was ruled by a long string of monarchs whose reigns were almost always brief, brutal and bloodstained. In contrast the southern kingdom, with a faithfulness to God’s covenant and the line of King David, had much greater stability and peace.
In the New Testament we see that Paul – whose experience with Roman rule was far from happy – could write, “Pray this way for kings and all who are in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives marked by godliness and dignity” (1 Tim 2:2 NLT). Stable times of peace are worth seeking.
There is much in the wisdom of the Old Testament that is profoundly relevant to 21st-Century politics.
A second truth concerns the character of those who lead us. This side of heaven a sinful human race will always need people to lead and govern: without leadership we would have tyranny. Yet precisely because the role of leading a nation is a hard task, we must pray that those who rule us are indeed ‘wise and knowledgeable’.
In the Bible that phrase does not refer to the possession of a high level of intelligence or an advanced educational qualification (although there’s nothing wrong with either) but more to a humble and reverent attitude of mind that respects God and his law. In a world controlled by the media, it’s not easy for the modest, God-fearing individual to rise to the top but God is perfectly capable of ensuring their promotion. Let’s pray that this would happen more often.
The third point is that the morality of a people affects how they are governed. This seemingly simple truth – the spiritual version of ‘a nation gets the leader it deserves’ – is profoundly important. It’s very tempting in times of instability to look to politicians for the answer, something encouraged by the way that in any crisis there is never a shortage of individuals who, with a minimum of modesty and a maximum of confidence, put themselves forward as those who will deliver the nation from its ills. Yet history provides very few examples of leaders who have genuinely put everything right. On the contrary, there are many cases where the coming to power of a political leadership has led either to widespread disillusionment or to a dictatorship.
The teaching in this proverb and elsewhere in the Bible is that what really determines the fate of nations is not the individual at the top but the people themselves. Politics alone can’t truly fix a nation; God and godliness can.
Politics alone can’t truly fix a nation; God and godliness can.
There’s a fascinating and apparently true story that when Billy Graham visited Camp David in the 1960s, the then US president Lyndon Johnson said to him, “Billy, you ought to be president of the United States. If you do run, I’d like to be your campaign manager.” It was an offer that Billy rejected then, and continued to do so in the years ahead. He felt to seek political office would be to fall far short of his appointed task as evangelist. He also knew the truth of this proverb: the best way of effectively changing a nation is not by changing leaders, but by altering what people believe.
If you are genuinely called by God to be a politician, then I wish you well and I’m very happy to pray for you. But in the meantime, I’m going to stick to my calling of preaching the good news of Jesus. True and lasting change begins at the bottom and not the top.
Revd Canon J.John
Director, Philo Trust
www.canonjjohn.com / Twitter: @Canonjjohn
Reprinted with permission.
Maureen Trowbridge reviews ‘What’s Wrong with Human Rights?’ by David Cross (Sovereign World Ltd, 2018).
Do human beings possess certain rights simply because they are human? In this ground-breaking book, David Cross contends that they do not. Furthermore, he claims, contemporary human rights ideology has become a false religion.
Beginning with the US Declaration of Independence of 1776, Cross questions boldly the fundamental idea that humans can have certain ‘self-evident’, ‘inalienable’ rights (p16) without those rights being conferred by a higher authority. He explains that, biblically, rights are not automatic; rather, true rights can only come “through the terms of a specific covenant relationship with [God]” (p18).
The book does not primarily address legal entitlements granted by a government to its citizens or specific ‘human rights issues’; rather, it delves deeply into the belief system behind “the rights which have historically and progressively been assumed to belong to everyone, simply by virtue of their being born human” (p13).
Ever since the Enlightenment, when man declared himself the ultimate arbiter of truth, these so-called ‘basic’ rights have formed the basis for a secular humanistic “religion of rights” (p18), filling “the void left by progressive abandonment of [Europe’s] Christian heritage” (p18).
In ten chapters, Cross traverses this history to arrive at our present-day culture of entitlement and licentiousness, where the claiming of rights is emphasised over and above the acknowledgement of wrong-doing, and where those who dare to question the new religion’s mantras of “equality, inclusivity and liberty” (p20) find themselves accused of discrimination.
Biblically, true rights can only come through the terms of a specific covenant relationship with God.
Cross explains that without the unchanging ‘plumb-line’ of biblical morality, which alone provides the foundation for true justice, the definition of human rights can only be based “on a moving pendulum of public opinion” (p13) – which in turn causes conflicts between competing interest groups.
Thus the West’s “culture of entitlement” (p20) has given rise to an ever-increasing plethora of self-proclaimed ‘rights’ such as “children’s rights, women’s rights, body rights, gay rights, workers’ rights, transgender rights, consumer rights” and so on – all of which lack an “external code of morality on which the concept of rights is based” (p20).
Ultimately, ignoring God’s sovereignty over human rights leaves us “vulnerable and confused” about where ultimate authority lies. Cross acknowledges that the human spirit is created to depend upon the sovereignty of our Creator; relying on the sovereignty of created humans makes us feels intrinsically unsafe.
At the end of the book Cross clarifies the difference between respecting a person’s right to live sinfully (which is unbiblical) and respecting their value as an individual (which is entirely legitimate and affirmed by God).
Ignoring God’s sovereignty over human rights leaves us “vulnerable and confused” about where ultimate authority lies.
These are complex theological, legal and ethical issues, but the author, who is also Deputy International Director for Ellel Ministries, has put them into a form which can be read by anyone – regardless of background or education level – who is interested in discovering the difference between what the world calls ‘human rights’ and what the Bible says.
Described by Andrea Williams, CEO of Christian Concern, as “a must read for anyone interested in today's culture wars”, this well-researched book will help lay believers and church leaders alike as they seek to deal biblically with secular humanistic ideology.
‘What’s Wrong with Human Rights?: Uncovering a False Religion’ (paperback, Kindle, 185pp) is available on Amazon for £11.99 (paperback). Click here to hear the author speaking about the book, and click here for an online preview.