Reflections On The Revolution In France

Burke provides the ongoing motif of institutions and their value to society in Reflections on the Revolution in France. To this end, he explores the positive effects of different long-standing practices on European countries, particular those of England and France. In Burke’s opinion, these effects include shaping the gallant, learned, and chivalrous nature of Europe. Burke specifically urges readers to put faith in honored institutions like the monarchy, the nobility (that is, those with land), the military and the church. During the Enlightenment, such institutions drew attacks from philosophers and radical politicians; accused of greed and exploitation, they are among the first dismembered by the National Assembly. In addition, radical Whigs suggested the same course of action in England. Burke strongly opposes this, using these institutions as symbols of positive role models for all men—strongholds of honor and tradition in an increasingly shifting political climate.

The Monarchy

In one sweeping action, the National Assembly revokes the power of their monarch, Louis XVI. Burke makes no claim in favor of the absolute monarch in France; he believes in a constitutional monarchy. He argues for a reform, especially because, as he argues, the King of France remains amenable to   such a reform; he argues against the necessity of such drastic action, bemused: “Have these gentlemen never heard, in the whole circle of the worlds of theory and practice, of anything between the despotism of the monarch and the despotism of the multitude” (124). As such, throughout his political career, he advocates against tyranny, but Burke believes the monarchy served a valuable role in English politics.

To begin, Burke thinks the French fail to establish any indication that their monarch is despotic. To justify a revolution (a complete overthrow), Burke feels, the Assembly must establish some level of tyranny under their present king. He laments Louis XVI’s reign is rather more of “a series of concessions to his subjects” (82) than a tyranny punishable by imprisonment. He further wonders why people so commend the Assembly on their destruction of the King: “They have seen the French rebel against a mild and lawful monarch, with more fury, outrage, and insult, than ever any people has been known to rise against the most illegal usurper, or the most sanguinary tyrant” (38-39). This serves to establish Burke’s belief that no amount of negotiation or reason would have worked with regards to the Assembly; he believes something base rests in their nature that would not rest until the institution of the monarch is left humiliated and destroyed, whether it is for the good of the country or not.

This begets his next argument in favor of retaining the monarchy; the monarch is a powerful symbol to the people because it represents something that lasts the test of time. For this, he uses England as an argument. In an ever-changing social and political climate, the crown remains a fixed authority that represents the welfare of each member of the nation. Burke suggests:

Kings, in one sense, are undoubtedly the servants of the people, because their power has no other rational end than that of the general advantage, but it is not true that they are, in the ordinary sense (by our constitution at least) anything like servants. The essence of whose situations is to obey the commands of some other and to be removable at pleasure (29).

Radical thinkers attempt to portray the crown as a symbol of servitude, but Burke redirects it into a symbol of fortitude and reciprocal service. Once that relationship breaks, as it does in France, that ever-constant legacy, and thus nation, breaks as well.

As to Burke’s final argument for the institution of the monarchy, he simply directs any detractors to the facts of history. He points out that each subsequent modification of the British constitution has allowed for the hereditary rights of kings; he suggests that each king, or queen, at some point, is elected and follows, then secures, a line of succession; the governing bodies of England never dismantle this aspect of their constitution, although they have had several chances to do so. Ultimately, Burke argues, by faithfully maintaining the monarchy, England elects to “[…] look upon the legal hereditary succession of their crown as among their rights, not as among their wrongs, as a benefit, not as a grievance, as a security for their liberty, not as a badge of servitude” (26). As a standing institution, Burke wants readers to view the monarchy as a pillar of England; should it collapse, some fundamental, supporting aspect of British character will go with it.

The Nobility

In addition to dispelling the monarchy, the Assembly also limits the power of the nobility, which, at the time, Burke also argues needs reform. However, Burke similarly feels the nobility stands for a symbol of European character as well: in decrying this institution, something is also lost that damages the order and civility of society. Essentially, Burke sees the nobility as representatives of noble nature, not just noble titles. Burke writes, “Among the revolutions in France must be reckoned a considerable revolution in their ideas of politeness. In England, we are said to learn manners at second-hand from your side of the water, and that we dress our behavior in the frippery of France” (70). Burke feels that the nobility of France dictates the manner of Europe; in losing that institution, Burke ventures crass society will prevail.

To further the analogy between nobility and class, he declares, “To make us love our country, our country ought to be lovely” (78). To Burke, it is institutions like the landed nobility, whom he describes as charming, mannerly, and exact, that establish a rightful and natural order to life; moreover, they do so in a pleasing rather than rough or abrupt manner. As though having the leisure to watch a mountain gently erode into a rolling, sloped hill over time, so Burke sees the institution of inherited titles. To him, “We procure reverence to our civil institutions on the principle upon nature teaches us to revere individual men, on account of their age and on account of those of whom they are descended” (34-35). The loveliness to which Burke refers is not just the exterior manners; to Burke, these manners permeate European culture and infuse it with a sense of pride and aspiration. In the absence of that institution, he fears that void may be replaced with any number of evils, among them anarchy. As such, he states, “Nobility is a graceful ornament to the civil order” (139).

The Church

The next institution the Assembly attacks is religion, by usurping their land. Burke uses this as a symbol to show how an institution is vulnerable once its premise is debunked and that debunking popularized by radical thinking. Burke claims that when France seized the church’s land, “The robbery of your church had proved a security to the possessions of ours” (105). The factious powers that allow an institution like the church to become vulnerable, such as radical writers during the Enlightenment, leads Burke to fear the worst. If such a staple in society is at risk in France, then surely the ties between church and state in England would be at risk as well.

Here, Burke reverts to reminding readers what an institution like the church symbolizes for people: “We know, and what is better we feel inwardly, that religion is the basis of civil society, and the source of all good and of all comfort” (90). Burke points out the men of the church are men of learning and distinction and “that justice and mercy are substantial parts of religion” (151). In this, he draws stark contrast to the value one drives in the institution the church; he then reminds readers what those that stand against an institution like religion can historically expect: “We know, and it is our pride to know, that man is by his constitution [a] religious animal; that atheism is against, not only our reason but our instincts; and that it cannot prevail long” (90-91).

The Military

One final institution Burke uses as an analogy for the ill-fated French Revolution’s disregard for society is their contempt for military tradition. In this time period, noblemen of rank typically serve as officers in the French military, one of the many issues brought forward as reform by the Assembly. According to Burke, prior to the revolution, the French military acted under an exact and honorable regimen, maintaining the true power of “military subordination” (217), which brought its operation into conflict with the Assembly’s goals of uplifting the abstract rights of man.

As such, Burke describes accounts of wayward soldiers, cashiering their officers and even more dramatic actions like murder of their nobility officers. He states, “The army (le corps militaire) threatens to fall into the most turbulent anarchy. Entire regiments have dared to violate at once due to the laws, to the king, to the order established by your decrees, and to the oaths which they have taken with the most awful solemnity” (212). Burke sees this as a natural effect of the Assembly’s humiliation of the nobility and other presiding institutions like order and military subordination. He believes the soldiers are now enamored with the abstract rights promised, so “Perhaps the soldier has by this time learned, that the assembly itself does not enjoy a much greater degree of liberty than that royal figure” (214). In essence, when an institution falls, so do the subordinates that rely on it for orders, which results in chaos.

The ideal theory of the rights of man recurs throughout Reflections on the Revolution in France. Burke treats the theory as an abstraction and Burke does not like abstractions; as a man of considerable political experience, writing a tract on conservative philosophy, he opposes the justification for any change based on an abstract ideal. The rights of man remains the most prominent abstraction in Burke’s letter. 

At points, Burke uses this motif sarcastically, such as when he claims that the Assembly will allow seditious solders to mix with radical intellectuals, so that soldiers, asserting their rights of man too readily, will be armed with pamphlets and munitions (215). However, such humor is quickly followed with that abstraction in practice: so consumed is the soldier with individual rights that these men, once well-trained and orderly under their noble commanders, forget “that the army should never act but as an instrument” (213) under the operation of a king or member of nobility: a person of pure intentions that can organize them to work as a prosperous whole. An instrument of seditious parts is useless. An instrument commanded by an evil hand is terrifying. These are the practical ends to abstractions Burke urges the reader to consider.

Essentially, while Burke admits to the loftier understanding of the innate rights of man, he remains convinced that embarking on a government founded on principle and not practice is without precedent. As he jokes, “The effect of liberty to individuals is, that they may do what they please. We ought to see what it will please them to do before we risk congratulations, which may be soon turned into complaints” (8-9). Moreover, he believes that radical politicians argue for the rights of man without considering the corresponding liberties man might give up to achieve such collective rights. To maintain order, Burke argues “Men cannot enjoy the rights of an uncivil and a civil state together” (60). By this, he means that for every right a man has, he may have to give up a corresponding freedom to do whatever he wishes. Though the give and take is not entirely equal, one cannot expect to live in a safe, orderly, civil society without ceding some rights to a government. Therefore, the abstraction of the rights of man must have some concrete limitations in Burke’s mind.

To Burke, a more concrete definition of rights would be:

Men have a right to […] justice; as between their fellows, whether their fellows are in politic function or in ordinary occupation. They have a right to the fruits of their industry; and to the means of making their industry fruitful. They have a right to the acquisitions of their parents; to the nourishment and improvement of their offspring; to instruction in life, and to consolation in death (59).

He understands that to many of his detractors this may seem harsh, especially those enamored by the promise of liberty from the French Revolution and the great equalizing force this revolution promises to all men, but there is a concrete and an applicable aspect to political and social life, which often disallows, in history’s experience, a system of pure democracy from working. He notes:

Indeed in the gross and complicated mass of human passions and concerns, the primitive rights of men undergo such a variety of refractions and reflections, that it becomes absurd to talk of them as if they continued in the simplicity of their original direction (61).

In the inability to make everyone completely happy, Burke suggests the best system is the one which provides reasonable happiness to most.