1688: The Hung Parliament's Glorious Revolution

Since the ejection from the throne and subsequent beheading of Charles I at the end of the English Civil War in 1649, the hegemonic balance between monarchy and Parliament had created a political seesaw entirely unprecedented in the context of British history. On one side were the Whigs, the reform movement in Parliament that emerged as a united party in clear opposition to Charles I's son, the emponymously titled Charles II,¹ following the restoration of the monarchy in 1660.² On the other side was the monarchy itself and its supporters in Parliament, colloquially known as the Tories, who likewise formed an official and united political front in support of King James II's right to inherit the throne in spite of his confessed Catholicism.³ The relatively free exchange and formulation of political ideas in 17^th century England was in stark contrast to the monarchical absolutism being practiced on the European continent by the likes of Louis XIV in France, and Peter the Great in Russia. Politically dissident opinions abounded, and the toleration of such open dissent is not only what made England unique, it's what lended a great amount of momentum to theories of Parliamentary supremacy which ultimately culminated in the slow formation of modern democratic institutions. It can be argued, as well, that this open dissidence and continued friction between Parliament and King, having reached its absolute crescendo with the forced abdication of James II in 1688, is the moment which forever altered historical trajectory toward what ultimately resulted in political modernity and global industrialisation. However, old habits die hard, and history is a lense through which all events fade to give way to others in slow succession. Although a revolution in the long run, the so-called “Glorious Revolution” of 1688-92 was an accidental harbinger of what one might call “progress,” though it found its genuine and immediate purpose largely in religiously sectarian intolernace.

Most have seen a reflection of the ideal revolutionary attitude of 17^th century England in the writings of John Locke, who once famously wrote, “And no Government will be able long to subsist, if the People may set up a new Legislative, whenever they take offence at the old one. To this, I Answer: Quite the contrary. People are not so easily got out of their old Forms, as some are apt to suggest. They are hardly to be prevailed with to amend the acknowledg'd Faults, in the Frame they have been accustom'd to. And if there be any Original defects, or adventitious ones introduced by time or corruption[,] 'tis not an eas[y] thing to get them changed, even when all the World sees there is an opportunity for it.”⁴ In this statement, he may have been prophetic; in part, he may have been referring to the contrast between the atmosphere of absolutism on the Continent and the constitutional monarchy so commonplace in British life. But he was also describing as well as foreshadowing events of the day and what was still to come, having written his two treatises on government originally as justification for resistance to King Charles II (r. 1660-1685),⁵ but which were later published as a defence of the self-aggrandizingly titled “Glorious Revolution” beginning in 1688.⁶

In an intellectual climate heavily influenced by Aristotle, as well as Plato's 'perfect world of forms,' it's understandable how a spectating thinker of the time would sink into a cynical evaluation of facts based on immediate observation. Alternatively, an inversely over-optimistic evaluation was just as common, as the effect of Plato's perfect forms was political utopianism, the expectations of which were often unceremoniously crushed by reactionaries or simple fact. The resulting dissapointment—or, more often, despair—of great and defeated expectations were reconciled by many through the available remedy of religious dogma, or thoroughly faced, philosophized upon, and accepted by a very gilded few. John Locke, as quoted in the second paragraph, had a sense of political realism. He understood that the course of events were beyond any single persons control, and that any explicit 'revolution' was, more often than not, simply occurring to retain a certain circumstance and all the prejudice and pride that go with it. Yet at the same time his realism seemed to project a commentary cognizant and accepting of this central contradiction, he still found himself on the revolutionary side of history, having fostered a very close relationship with noted Whig politician Anthony Ashley Cooper, better known as the Earl of Shaftesbury, as his personal physician during the 1660's.⁷ This is enough to understand why political gravity, coupled with his faculties as a philosopher, brought him to believe in the supremacy of Parliament over a reigning monarch. He became, through his connections, one of the most outspoken voices in support of the Whigs, with his works on government gaining comprehensive popularity throughout the British Isles at the time of the revolution and giving further intellectual momentum to the ascendent counter-narrative of limited government.⁸

This counter-narrative, however, proved to be less revolutionary, and more of a watershed moment in the slow historical fade to modern democracy. The usurpation of the throne from James II to William of Oranje effected by Parliament was done in response to James finally siring a male heir, who was baptised a Catholic. James had also incurred the wrath of Parliament in prior years when he advocated for tolerance of Catholics and Protestant dissenters, granting both the right of public worship as well as the ability to hold civil and military office.⁹ This ecumenical attitude infuriated the Whigs, who, upon taking joint power with the new King, implemented a series of draconian laws which once again barred Catholics and dissenters from public worship, public office (including running to become a Parliamentary MP),¹⁰ and a myriad of other prohibitions designed to humiliate, harass, and oppress the “papists,” a derogatory term used to refer to Catholics during and after the English Reformation. In the English Bill of Rights, for example, it is added as a refrain that “it hath pleased Almighty God to make the glorious instrument of delivering this kingdom from popery [Catholicism] and arbitrary power.” Enshrined as law alongside such famous and fatefully significant precedents as, “[t]hat election of members [to] Parliament ought to be free,” and “[t]hat excessive bail ought not to be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted,” was “that all and every person and persons that is, are or shall be reconciled to ... [the] Church of Rome, or shall profess the popish religion, or shall marry a papist, shall be excluded and be for ever incapable to inherit, possess or enjoy the crown and government of this realm”.¹¹ The Bill of Rights also enshrined, rather ironically, the tenets of John Locke's constitutional theory of government, severely limiting regal authority and adding a rudimentary form of checks and balances to the British political system. The reigning monarch was no longer above the law, but was also now a subject of its universal authority and application.¹² Parliament acted as kingmaker, and defined the parameters of the debate.

In 1689, the same year as the passing of the Bill of Rights, Locke penned “A Letter Concerning Toleration.” Addressing it to an anonymously “Honored Sir,”¹³ he makes an argument that asserts the separation of church and state. He also writes that tolerance for differing religious dispositions will bring greater peace, as most civil unrest roots from an inevitable resistance to persecution and repression.¹⁴ The fear of the time, however, was of a Catholic takeover of England. The collective spiritual paranoia born of the Reformation was of such a power as to compel King William to officially and comprehensively disenfranchise Catholics, lest he meet the same fate as his deposed and universally reviled predecessor. This was not a cultural or political atmosphere conducive to Locke's sensible and compassionate message. This message took a very familiar perspective, one in which modern attitudes on the matter are clearly still reflected.

Modern capitalism also finds one of its original European catalysts in the Glorious Revolution. During the decades of political gridlock, when the King would, at times, neglect to convene Parliament for upwards of 3 to 4 years after he failed to make a convincing argument to secure further funding,¹⁵ there was no governmental oversight or control of economics on a state-wide basis. Communities were left to fend for themselves, and unless an entrepreuner could secure a royal patent or privilege, there was no legal protection that allowed for the safe raising of capital and subsequent investment in local projects and infrastructure. The alternative to royal patent was to seek parliamentary legislation from a local representative MP.¹⁶ This was complicated to near-impossibility during the years of 1680 to 1688, when Parliament sat for a grand total of no more than 20 weeks. In contrast, the years from 1689 to 1697 saw Parliament in session for an entire 53-and-a-half months. With its powers now enshrined on an equal basis with the monarch, and the limitation of the King's executive authority to the rule of law, there was no longer a single individual with the power to interfere in the judicial branch, bypass Parliament, or unilaterally breach and alter contracts of private property and the protection of rights thereof.¹⁷ When it became clear that Parliamentary government truly did secure property rights and provided the legal guarantee of all financial and economic contracts being honoured in good faith, a very familiar market began to emerge and expand. In his essay on how the events of 1688-92 inevitably precipitated the Industrial Revolution of the 19^th century, John Beckett writes: “[t]he commercial and financial revolutions brought new problems in the organisation of overseas trade and the mechanisms of public credit, and arising from these concerns came a succession of bills to establish merchant companies, restrict the import of foreign luxuries, regulate the market in stocks, and improve the law in relation to the collection of debt, the declaration of bankruptcy and the pursuit of small claims. Parliament was now a forum in which MPs could debate issues of substance, often with a bearing on their constituencies, in the context of legislation. It is hardly surprising to find a rapid increase in legislative initiatives post-1689.”¹⁸ Both local and international markets, given these protections, expanded exponentially. This growth never ceased, and instead continued to gather momentum through the centuries, giving us modern industry, credit, transportation, infrastructure, and technology, to name only a few. In fact, we are part and product of this very momentum, bearing the fruits of its process and effects.

Rome wasn't built in a day; nor was considered modernity achieved in any single technological innovation, philosophical consideration, spiritual revelation, or political revolution. History is the sum of its parts. Anything less, and it isn't the whole story. The Glorious Revolution definitively ended any push for absolutism in England. It also kickstarted global parlimentarianism, which subsequently led to the birth of modern democracy and political institutions. It set the precedent of the Bill of Rights, which, along with the works of John Locke, inspired the American Declaration of Independence.¹⁹ But Locke wasn't incorrect in his assertion that old habits are hard to kill, even when we all see an opportunity for progress. As historian Kenan Malik notes, “[t]he Whigs, the party of parliamentary democracy, the party from which the English liberal tradition developed, were also the party of anti-Catholic bigotry.”²⁰ The doubled-edged sword of hypocrisy and power continues to beg the question: what are we actually thinking of when we consider “progress?”

1 2015. "Whig." Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia 1p. 1. Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia, EBSCOhost .

2 2015. "Restoration." Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia 1p. 1. Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia, EBSCOhost.

3 Oxford Dictionaries. 2015. 'Definition Of "Tory" In English From The Oxford Dictionary'.

4 Locke, John. 1689. 'Right Of Revolution: John Locke, Second Treatise'. Press-Pubs.Uchicago.Edu. http://press-pubs.uchicago.edu/founders/documents/v1ch3s2.html.

5 2015. "Charles II." Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia 1p. 1. Funk & Wagnalls New World Encyclopedia, EBSCOhost.

6 Sparknotes. 2015. 'Sparknotes: Locke's Second Treatise On Civil Government: Context'. http://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/locke/context.html.

7 Anstey, Peter R., and Lawrence M. Principe. "John Locke and the Case of Anthony Ashley Cooper." Early Science & Medicine 16, no. 5 (October 2011): 379-503. Academic Search Complete, EBSCOhost.

8 Malik, Kenan. 2013. 'John Locke And The Not-Quite-Glorious Revolution'. Pandaemonium.

9 Kidner, Frank L, Maria Bucur, Ralph Mathisen, Sally McKee, and Theodore R Weeks. 2014. Making Europe. 

(Independence, KY: Wadsworth Cengage Learning), 486.

10 The Avalon Project. 2008. 'English Bill Of Rights, 1689'.

11 The Avalon Project. 2008. 'English Bill Of Rights, 1689'.

12 Lewis, Thomas T. 2015. "English Bill of Rights." Salem Press Encyclopedia Research Starters.

13 Locke, John. 1689. A Letter Concerning Toleration. Ebook. 1st ed., 3.

14 Locke, John. 1689. A Letter Concerning Toleration. Ebook. 1st ed., 6-14.

15 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." 

Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, EBSCOhost, 37.

16 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, 38.

17 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, 39.

18 Beckett, John. 2014. "The Glorious Revolution, Parliament, and the Making of the First Industrial Nation." Parliamentary History (Wiley-Blackwell) 33, no. 1: 36-53. Historical Abstracts with Full Text, 39.

19 Powell, Jim et al. 2015. 'John Locke: Natural Rights To Life, Liberty, And Property | Foundation For Economic Education'. Fee.Org.

20 Malik, Kenan. 2013. 'John Locke And The Not-Quite-Glorious Revolution'. Pandaemonium.    

Quebec, 1995 and Scotland, 2014: A Crisis of Clarity in the Old World and the New

It was 1707 when the United Kingdom coalesced as one with the Act of Union. This followed the death of the childless and unmarried Queen Elizabeth I, who, via the law of hereditary succession, was replaced on the throne by her cousin James VI, King of Scotland, now James I of a united Great Britain (UK Parliament). A mere half-century later, a more forced union took place in British North America with the annexation of France's Canadian colonies by way of King George III's Royal Proclamation of 1763 (UBC Indigenous Foundations). Both territorial amalgamations led to perpetual demographic tensions that often simmered in the backdrop of everyday political life; in the British Isles themselves, the English had to compromise with the Scots on issues of local and global concern, whereas in the former New France, Britain attempted to overwhelm the French majority with a constant influx of English Loyalist settlers, as well as refugees escaping the American War of Independence (Mintz et al., 27-28). Since these 18^th century annexations, both Scotland and the former New France, now the province of Quebec in a federalist union with Canada, have pondered, petitioned, and protested regarding and for political independence, with supporters of secession feeling pushed to the margins in terms of accurate political representation. Supporters of both secessionist movements express a strong Scottish and Quebec nationalism, respectively, with Scotland having held two successful referendums on political devolution to a separate Scottish Parliament, and one referendum in 2014 on independence which failed on a relatively narrow margin of 44.7% for secession, and 55.3% against, with a 84.59% voter turnout (BBC). Even closer were the results of Quebec's second referendum on independence in 1995, which saw 49.4% for secession from Canada, and 50.6% against, with a 94% voter turnout (Mintz et al., 106). This essay will compare and contrast the Quebec referendum of 1995 with the Scottish referendum of 2014, and establish that both are indeed inextricably connected, as well as explore the most important of said connections, the so-called “clarity ethos” which, originating in Canada, ruled, and still rules, both regions quests for sovereignty.

The first and most important distinction between the 1995 Quebec referendum and the 2014 Scottish referendum is the stark contrast in the clarity and succinctness of the questions presented to voters. The “clarity ethos,” as it's called, roots from Canadian politician Stephane Dion's heavy criticism of the question posed in 1995. On the ballot, Quebecer's were asked: "Do you agree that Québec should become sovereign, after having made a formal offer to Canada for a new economic and political partnership, within the scope of the Bill respecting the future of Québec and of the agreement signed on 12 June 1995?” (Gall). This, in contrast to the straightforwardness of what was asked of voters in Scotland: “Should Scotland be an independent country?” (Verrelli et al., 197). In pursuit of procedural clarity, the Canadian federal government of Jean Chretien posed a series of reference questions to the Supreme Court of Canada to establish three things: if Quebec could secede from Canada on a unilateral basis; if Quebec had a right to automatic self-determination under international law; and, if there was some sort of conflict between domestic and international law in regards to secession, which set of laws would take precedence (Supreme Court of Canada). In a 2013 session of the House of Commons, Dion asserted that many Quebecer's voted 'yes' without a clear grasp of what a 'yes' victory would entail, arguing this was due to the obscure nature of the question (Verrelli et al., 196). In 1998, the Supreme Court rendered its judgment, and came down on the side of Dion and the federal government. Essentially, the Court established that Quebec could not unilaterally effect its own secession from Canada, but were a referendum held and a 'clear majority' of Quebecer's supported independence, then the federal government would be legally obligated to negotiate with the Quebec government in good faith (Supreme Court of Canada).

Both the federal government and provincial government of Quebec stated that they were satisfied with the ruling. The ruling did not, however, provide a definition of a 'clear majority,' opting to leave such a definition in the hands of politicians. In “Exporting the Clarity Ethos,” authors Nadia Verrelli and Neil Cruickshank note, “even if the democratic threshold (i.e. a majority) of fifty per cent plus one is met [...] in favour of Quebec sovereignty, it may not be enough to initiate the secession

process” (Verrelli et al., 197). This infers that some sort of supermajority would have to vote 'yes' to independence on a ballot that posed a very simple question. This inference became law when the Canadian House of Commons voted to pass the Clarity Act after final reading in 2000, which used the Supreme Court reference case as its basic template (Clarity Act, 3). As expected, Quebec railed against the Act, passing a law of its own the same year to counter the federal legislation known as Bill 99, or “An Act respecting the exercise of the fundamental rights and prerogatives of the Québec people and the Québec State” (Bill 99, 1). Bill 99 also claimed to use the Supreme Court reference as its basic template, taking advantage of the undefined character of what constitutes a 'clear majority' despite the Clarity Act's stipulation that it was the federal government alone that had the ability and right to decide what constituted both a clear question and a clear majority (Clarity Act, 4).

The clarity ethos became a precedent to be followed in future referenda, not only in Canada, but also in the case of Scotland's 2014 vote. It is no coincidence that Alex Salmond, head of the SNP (Scottish National Party), as well as Prime Minister David Cameron of the United Kingdom, both pushed for a clearly worded question which was also “comprehensible [...] in terms of the political consequences one should associate with a ‘yes’ vote” (Verrelli et al., 196). Even in Scotland, however, a bare majority for 'yes' may not have been enough to push Scotland across the divide of ambiguous clarity far enough to define a mandate for independence, and would likely have been heavily contested by both the British people and the British government were there not some sort of supermajority, just as in Quebec. It must be noted that the push for clarity is not simply a push for a clear question; it also requires a resoundingly clear answer to the question. This is a prejudice that Nadia Verrelli and Neil Cruickshank argue is “not only [...] impossible to achieve, but unfairly puts the ‘burden of proof’ on the side asserting national self-determination” (Verrelli et al., 196-197). The push for clarity is a sensible one, though probably impossible. This means, unfortunately, that the clarity ethos can essentially thwart all movements for independence by referendum, but this doesn't mean a referendum is an empty or useless gesture as it does reveal the true magnitude of those with a passionate desire for greater representation, thus forcing the powers that be to negotiate and often leading to notable concessions. In Canada, concession and compromise with Quebec is a staple of political life. In 2006, former Prime Minister Stephen Harper rejected the idea of an independent Quebec, but introduced a motion that officially recognized Quebec as a distinct nation within the nation of Canada (CBC News). As is obvious, similar pressures are what led to the devolution of some powers to an independent Scottish Parliament, effectively making Scotland a de-facto province of the United Kingdom.

The question of each referendum's legitimacy—both in terms of the results, and in terms of the right of Scotland or Quebec to self-determination under both domestic and international law—is resoundingly complex, hence the centuries of debate. Relative to the ruling of the Supreme Court of Canada, it can be argued that both the 1980 and 1995 Quebec referendums were illegitimate due to the hazy and verbose wording of the questions posed on the ballots. Due to this verbosity, it's unlikely that the federal government would have accepted either result, even if the proportion of 'yes' voters reached the undefined realm of a supermajority. As well, both referenda questions did not make it clear if what was being voted on was full secession, or a re-negotiation of Quebec within Confederation from provincial status to sovereignty-association. With this being the case, it's more likely than not that neither referenda would have resulted in independence, regardless of the results.

Scotland, having learned Quebec's lessons vicariously, stood a much better chance at secession and political independence, as the wording of the question was both simple and concise. Had there even been a narrow win, the mandate would have been clear, even if it didn't result in full sovereignty. If, however, there had been a clear supermajority—the clarity of which would likely have been defined by Westminster—there was a real chance for unequivocal results and, thus, legitimate secession on a multilateral basis. In all regards, the clarity ethos defines the parameters of the debate, paradoxically leaving no room for ambiguity by imposing a gilded monopoly on the ambiguous definition of clarity.

As it stands, both independence movements are alive and well, and both, though winded, are still pursuing their relentless crusades to nationhood. In more recent months, however, there has even been a greater push for secession and full political independence in places such as Catalonia, which has been struggling for partition from the greater Spanish nation in recent decades (BBC). Perhaps it can be expected that the clarity ethos will blanket the debate in Spain. If this happens to be the case, let's hope that the political definition of clarity can be given some basic clarity.      

PLEASE NOTE: THIS WORK WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN AS A RESEARCH ESSAY FOR MY CLASS ON CANADIAN GOVERNMENT. 

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