Algernon Sidney (1623-1683)

Algernon Sidney is far from being a household name and is probably less well known even among scholars than his uncle Sir Philip Sidney, author of Arcadia. Among those who are familiar with the younger Sidney, he is generally famed less for his published works than for two facts about what he wrote. First, his own words were used to convict him of treason in 1683, resulting in his execution. The manuscript of the work that became the Discourses Concerning Government was said to have been on Sidney's desk at the time of his arrest in May 1683 for his alleged involvement in the Rye House Plot. Those manuscript pages were subsequently used as a 'witness' against him at his trial, held later that year. Secondly, when working as a diplomat in Denmark, Sidney wrote the following inscription in the signature book of the University of Copenhagen:

MANUS HAEC INIMICA TYRANNIS

EINSE PETIT PLACIDAM CUM LIBERTATE QUIETEM

('This hand, always an enemy to tyrants, seeks a little peace under liberty.'). (Jonathan Scott, Algernon Sidney and the English Republic, 1623-1677. Cambridge University Press, 1988, p. 133).

Next year marks the four hundredth anniversary of Sidney's birth. Though originally planned for April 2020, only to be disrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic, the conference held in the French town of Rouen in April 2022 might now be seen as an early celebration of that anniversary. The conference was organised by Christopher Hamel and Gilles Olivo. Christopher has recently produced a modern edition of the 1702 French translation of Sidney's Discourses by Pierre August Samson, to which he has added a rich scholarly introduction that surveys the reception of Sidney's thought in eighteenth-century France. This was the first conference I have attended in-person - and my first trip abroad - since January 2020. As such it was a particular pleasure to be able to attend.

As always, what I offer here are my own reflections on the papers delivered rather than a full account of every paper. Three themes in particular struck me as I listened to the contributions: the relationship between theory and practice in republican thought; the value of adopting a European perspective to English republicanism; and the views of Sidney (and others) on prerogative power and its relationship to popular sovereignty.

Theory and Practice in Republican Thought

Algernon Sidney, after Justus van Egmont, based on a work of 1663. National Portrait Gallery, NPG 568. Reproduced under a Creative Commons Licence.

Scholarly accounts of Sidney's thought have tended to place emphasis on his writings, and in particular the Discourses Concerning Government and Court Maxims. While not dismissing the importance of these writings and the ideas contained within them, Tom Ashby's excellent opening paper focused on Sidney's actions and writings as a diplomat working on behalf of the English Commonwealth and Free State. He expertly demonstrated how the letters that Sidney wrote to King Charles Gustavus of Sweden, and King Frederick of Denmark, in August 1659 effectively embody his republican principles in the way in which he presented himself  to, and engaged with, his royal correspondents. Sidney's role as a martyr has long been central to the understanding of him and his ideas, but his role as an agent of the English republic has received far less attention, and the glimpse into this that Tom offered suggests it has the potential to greatly enrich our understanding of Sidney's thought. I eagerly await the opportunity to read his finished thesis - and the publication of the article he is preparing on these letters. 

As I noted in my own paper, political action (negotium) was crucial for republican authors. I argued that figures like Sidney and James Harrington (as well as their later editors, printers, and translators) used the literary and material dimensions of their texts not merely to convey ideas in a passive form but to encourage readers to engage more deeply with those ideas and even to venture into action.

Encouraging political action was, of course, also central to the Leveller movement, which has been richly studied by Rachel Foxley, John Rees, and others. Rachel's paper, which compared the ideas of the Levellers on the nature and role of parliament with those of Sidney, also touched on questions of the interaction of thought and practice. Specifically, Rachel explored the ways in which Levellers - such as Richard Overton - in the 1640s and Sidney in the 1680s grappled with the pressing problem of the relationship between a sovereign people and its representatives; and how (if at all) those representatives might be made accountable to those they represented.

One of the problems of engaging with ideas in action that was discussed in response to these papers is whether this makes it harder to identify a coherent - and consistent - political theory. The question of whether a consistent political theory can be constructed from the various petitions and pamphlet writings of the Levellers has already been addressed by Rachel and others, but the question is equally applicable to Sidney. Christopher noted this in his introduction to the conference, asking whether it is possible to talk of coherence when Sidney himself did not complete or publish either of his major works. Building on this, Tom's paper raised the question of whether it is appropriate to treat Sidney's diplomatic letters as texts in the history of political thought. It certainly seems as though there would be value in doing so, not least because - as Tom pointed out - they provide a useful counterpart to the Court Maxims. In that dialogue Sidney attempts to persuade the people of his ideas on government, whereas in his diplomatic correspondence his aim is to persuade kings. Moreover, as both Rachel's paper and that by François Quastana made clear, the problem of consistency also arises in the Discourses. Because Sidney's aim in that text is to refute the arguments of Robert Filmer, he sometimes ends up contradicting himself. Rachel showed this very clearly in relation to his arguments about representation. In some places he presents representatives as servants, and so insists that those who elect them must be able to instruct them. Elsewhere his views reflect a more aristocratic understanding of representatives, arguing that they must be given the freedom to make their own decisions, and that they cannot be held to account by their constituents. Similarly, François showed that while Sidney castigates Filmer for drawing a parallel between kings and fathers, he himself draws a similar (and equally problematic) parallel between brothers and citizens.

The Value of a European Perspective

Since the motivation behind this conference was the publication of Christopher's excellent edition of the French translation of Sidney's Discourses, it should come as no surprise that the importance of adopting a European perspective to English republicanism was another theme that was raised by various participants. Again Tom's paper was pioneering in this regard showing (as Gaby Mahlberg's recent book on the English Republican exiles has also done) just how much material is available in foreign archives on the English republic and English republicans. 

A typical Rouen building. Image by Rachel Hammersley

As other papers made clear, the European approach is important not just with regard to individuals but also texts. François reminded us how much both Filmer and Sidney owed to French political models; including both, on the one hand, the writings of Jean Bodin and, on the other, those of the monarchiens. In her paper, which offered a stimulating comparison of the reception of the ideas of Sidney and Harrington in eighteenth-century France, Myriam-Isabelle Durcrocq made the important point that studying the French reception of the works of these thinkers not only reveals much about French Huguenot and Enlightenment thought, but also illuminates English republicanism itself. It draws our attention to the different preoccupations of Sidney and Harrington (which led to their works being celebrated in France at different points in time and by individuals facing very different concerns). This highlights the fact that there was not just one single strain of English republican thought, but rather several distinct varieties.

Prerogative Power and Popular Sovereignty

Of course, as Myriam-Isabelle rightly noted, while Harrington and Sidney diverged on various points, two principles on which they firmly agreed were, first, the evils of arbitrary power (or the power of one) and, secondly, the sovereignty of the people. One reflection of this in Harrington's work (as she reminded us) is that Harrington called his popular assembly the Prerogative tribe, alluding to the fact that the prerogative power lies not with any king or prince but with (as Harrington puts it in Oceana) the 'king people'. Sidney embodies a similar idea in his engagement with the Kings of Sweden and Denmark in the letters discussed by Tom. Not only does he clearly believe that, as a representative of the English commonwealth, he can speak directly and on equal terms with royalty, but he also warns Gustavus to adjust his behaviour and to act in the interests of the common good rather than arbitrarily for his own personal gains - or risk republican violence being launched against him.

Algernon Sidney by James Basire after Giovanni Battista Cipriani, 1763. National Portrait Gallery, NPG D28941. Reproduced under a Creative Commons Licence.

The attitude to prerogative power was also, as Alberto de Barros pointed out in his paper, a fundamental dividing line between Sidney and John Locke in their respective responses to Filmer's Patriarcha. While both were critical of the prerogative power of kings, Locke was willing to accept that it might legitimately be exercised under two distinct circumstances. First, at moments of crisis or emergency; and, secondly, when the law is silent on a particular point and interpretation is therefore required. Locke was clear, however, that in these cases the prerogative (in order to be legitimate) must only be used to advance the common good. Sidney, by contrast, was adamant that any power that operates above the law is illegitimate; that the very existence of a royal prerogative would undermine liberty and constitute a violation of the common good.

As I hope this blogpost demonstrates, I learned a huge amount from all the papers at this excellent event; as well as from our stimulating and fruitful discussions, which continued over drinks and meals. As I sat on the train leaving Rouen (somewhat reluctantly), I was struck by a parallel between the ideas I had been having about the conference discussions and my experience of attending a conference for the first time in two years. Sidney not only thought and wrote about republican principles, but also embodied them in his engagement with rulers such as the Kings of Sweden and Denmark, developing and extending his thought in the process. Similarly, in attending this conference I moved from contemplation of his thought to engagement with others, was led to interact with individuals coming from different countries and intellectual traditions, and ultimately had my perspectives challenged - resulting in a richer and deeper understanding of Sidney and his ideas.

Parliamentary Corruption

The present House of Commons in session. Image from Wikimedia Commons.

During the last month there has been much talk in the UK news about sleaze or political corruption. On 3 November MPs voted by a narrow majority to reform the rules on parliamentary lobbying. This was widely seen as a means of saving Owen Paterson, the Tory MP for North Shropshire, from a 30-day suspension from Parliament after he had been accused of using his position as an MP to benefit two companies for which he worked. It was only the furore this provoked among the press and the public that led Boris Johnson to execute a U-turn, announcing a fresh debate on Paterson's suspension and a willingness to gain cross-party support for the reform of the disciplinary procedure for MPs. While Paterson has subsequently resigned as an MP, this case brought to the surface questionable behaviour by other members of the House of Commons. On 10 November Sir Geoffrey Cox came under scrutiny for the legal work that he carries out alongside his parliamentary responsibilities - including for the British Virgin Islands. Not only had Cox made an agreement to vote by proxy while carrying out work in the Caribbean, but it was also alleged that he had held meetings relating to his legal role from his office in Parliament. The former was within the rules, the latter was not. In response the health secretary Sajid Javid defended the right of MPs to have second jobs, but also made clear that they should not be using Commons' facilities for extra-parliamentary work and insisted that they ought to be devoting the vast majority of their time to their constituents.

Of course parliamentary corruption is nothing new. In the eighteenth century there was concern, particularly among those who called themselves commonwealthmen, about the dangers posed by corrupt MPs, those whose commitment to the public good was called into question because they were subject to other influences. Then, however, the main source of this corruption was not second jobs (most MPs were 'gentlemen' who did not 'work') but rather the monarch and his or her ministers who sought to influence the decisions of the House by putting their own creatures (known as placemen) into the Commons or by offering pensions to those who held office. Yet, despite the difference in the source of the corruption, its significance remains the same.

Portrait of John Toland. Taken from Wikimedia Commons.

In the context of the 1698 election campaign, the commonwealthman John Toland produced a short pamphlet entitled The Danger of Mercenary Parliaments. There he argued that a House of Commons filled with officers and court pensioners was a threat to English liberties, pointing out that such a House could not fulfil its role within the constitution. Is it possible, he asked, that 'our Grievances can be redrest, that are committed by Persons from whom there is no higher Power to appeal?' Can there be 'any hope of Justice where the Malefactors are the Judges?' Will the public accounts be 'faithfully inspected by those who embezzle our mony to their own use?' (John Toland, The Danger of Mercenary Parliaments. London, 1698, p. 2). The answers, Toland insisted, were obvious. Indeed he went so far as to suggest that 'all the Calamities and Distractions under which the whole Nation at present groans' were due to 'that bare-fac'd and openly avow'd Corruption, which, like a universal Leprosy, has so notoriously infected and overspread both our Court and Parliament.' (Toland, Danger of Mercenary Parliaments, p. 3).

The only solution, Toland insisted, was to choose MPs who would act according to 'no other motives but the real and true Interest of his Majesty and his Dominions; a Parliament that will fall unanimously upon publick Business, and be free from those petty Factions and personal Piques which in the late Session so shamefully obstructed and delay'd the most importance Service of the Commonwealth.' This required all MPs to be 'subject to the Laws, and to some Power on Earth that may call them to account for their misbehaviours, that they may not be their own judges' (Toland, Danger of Mercenary Parliaments, p. 6). It was, therefore, up to the electors in the forthcoming election to disappoint the 'unreasonable and exorbitant hopes' of those corrupt MPs 'and to spew them out as detestable Members of the Commonwealth; not only as unfit to be trusted with their Liberties, but as unworthy to breath in the air of a Free Government' (Toland, Danger of Mercenary Parliaments, p. 7). Toland was clear that the fact that elections were now held every three years helped in this regard, providing electors with frequent opportunities to hold their MPs to account. Today, of course, general elections are less frequent, meaning that the point made in defence of Geoffrey Cox - that his constituents could vote him out if they were unhappy with his behaviour - does not feel like an adequate solution.

However, Toland's optimism that the problem would be resolved at the forthcoming election was misplaced. More than forty years later, in the context of yet another election campaign, the Scottish writer John Campbell again expressed concern that individual MPs were being diverted by bribes, posts, and pensions and were attached to private interests rather than to the public good. Without banishing corruption, he insisted, 'the Nation never can be out of Trouble, never free from Danger' (John Campbell, Liberty and Right. London, 1747, p. 45).

Campbell recognised that simply relying on electors to make sensible choices was not enough. He therefore proposed two further remedies. First, he called for MPs to be paid a salary (so that they would not be vulnerable to offers of money from elsewhere). Clearly this is no solution to the problems of parliamentary corruption today, since MPs already earn a substantial salary and yet some still have second jobs - though perhaps we should be challenging their right to do so. Surely a job that brings a salary of £81,932 per year (more than 3 times the UK average) is a full-time job that requires the complete attention of the person holding it.

The House of Commons in session in the eighteenth century. Image from Wikimedia Commons

In addition, Campbell linked the corruption of Parliament to the fact that MPs could continue to sit 'one Parliament after another' taking for 'themselves the principal Honours, Places, and Posts of the Country; while Men of Equal, or more extensive Abilities, remain unimploy'd'. (Campbell, Liberty and Right, p. 60). Against this practice he insisted that corruption could only be banished and the public interest secured by frequent and periodic changes to the representative body. In a proposal that clearly owed much to James Harrington's ideas, Campbell insisted that each year one third of the MPs in the House of Commons should be removed and replaced, with those retiring required to spend at least three years out of office before being eligible for re-election.

Not for the first time I am led by current events to think that we have something to learn from the writers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries who recognised that in order to secure good government in the public interest it is necessary to have robust systems of accountability. Without these, many will resort to acting in their own rather than the public interest. As Toland and Campbell realised, even those in Parliament must be forced to live under the laws that they make and must not be allowed to act as judges in their own case. How disappointing that, even after three hundred years, we still do not seem to have learned this lesson.

Holding Representatives to Account

Concerns about the accountability of members of the UK Parliament have been common in recent years. These have centred, for instance, on the expenses scandal - with claims being made that had little or nothing to do with parliamentary work. This originally broke in 2009, but continues to rumble on. Thus, in October 2017 it was revealed that sixteen peers who had not spoken at all in 2016-17 had nonetheless claimed a total of more than £400,000 in tax-free expenses over that period. Members of Parliament have also been accused of being unaccountable in appearing to challenge, or ignore, the will of the people - for example over Brexit. The reluctant response of some MPs to the referendum - reflected most recently in the voting of an amendment on 13 December 2017 which will give Parliament a legal guarantee of a vote on the final Brexit deal - has led some to accuse MPs of inhibiting the popular will. However, the accountability of those in power is by no means a new issue.

Engraving of George Wither by John Payne from A Collection of Emblemes (1635). Taken from Wikimedia Commons. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:George_Wither_Engraving.jpg

Having been prompted into rebellion by the actions of an unaccountable monarch, who had ruled for an unprecedented eleven years without calling Parliament, the English revolutionaries of the mid-seventeenth century were particularly concerned with the issue of accountability. Some, such as the parliamentary propagandist Henry Parker, insisted that a parliament would, by its very nature, embody the wisdom of the nation and so could not betray the interests of the people, (Henry Parker, Observations upon some of his Majesties late Answers and Expresses, London, 1642, especially p. 22). But, by the mid-1640s, a number of commentators were becoming concerned about the accountability of Parliament itself. The Puritan poet George Wither addressed this issue directly in his Letters of Advice: Touching The Choice of Knights and Burgesses of November 1644. According to Wither, the Houses of Parliament had resolved to call 'false and apostate' members to just account and to disable them from returning to parliamentary trust, so fresh elections were expected. Wither's aim in the work was to advise the knights and burgesses on the kinds of men to choose. In doing so he expressed specific concerns about MPs being unaccountable and therefore becoming distanced from their constituents:

by heedlesnesse in this dutie, they shall make Tyrants and Fooles, Lords over them, who will fawne and court them, till they are elected, and then, scorne and trample them under feet, putting such an immeasurable distance, betwixt themselves and others, of that Body whom they represent, and out of which they were chosen, as if they had forgotten what they were (George Wither, Letters of Advice: Touching the Choice of Knights and Burgesses, 1644, p. 4).

Not surprisingly, fears about lack of accountability only seem to have increased after the regicide enacted by a purged 'Rump' Parliament.

   Those concerned with accountability had various ideas as to how the problem could best be addressed. A common solution was to call for regular elections, as the Levellers did in The Agreement of the People. They insisted that 'to prevent the many inconveniences apparently arising from the long continuance of the same persons in authority' the Parliament that was then sitting should be dissolved on 30 September 1648 and a new Parliament elected every two years. (The Agreement of the People, clauses II and III). Others worried that the mere threat of not being re-elected would not be sufficient to ensure the good behaviour of those in power and so called for those stepping down from office to be required to give a public account of their actions on the basis of which they could then be judged, and if necessary punished. Wither advocated precisely this measure in the postscript to Letters of Advice. He described MPs as: 'servants and inferiours to their respective Counties and Burroughts; and that, by them, they may be called to account, for every omission or commission worthie questioning: either before the present Parliament whereof they are members, or before the next that shall be summoned.' (Wither, Letters of Advice, p. 13). He even toyed with the idea of dismissing those who proved to be 'unfaithful in trust' mid-term. (p. 14). De-selection no less.

John Milton, by unknown artist, National Portrait Gallery, NPG4222. Reproduced under a creative commons license.

   Not all seventeenth-century political commentators, however, believed that such accountability measures were an unalloyed good. Some acknowledged that there was a tension between making rulers accountable (especially by means of frequent elections) and the need for them to develop experience and expertise. John Milton in The Readie and Easie Way, a last-ditch attempt in 1660 to avoid the restoration of the monarchy, questioned the idea of limited terms of office: 'For it appeers not how this can be don, without danger and mischance of putting out a great number of the best and ablest: in whose stead new elections may bring in as many raw, unexperienc'd and otherwise affected, to the weakning and much alterning for the wors of public transactions.' (John Milton, Selected Prose, Harmondsworth, 1974, p. 341). Similarly, the Calvinist minister Richard Baxter argued that: 'To have the ignorant and unexercised introduced, and then turned out before they can grow wise' was not a sensible means of operating. (Richard Baxter, A Holy Commonwealth, ed. William Lamont, Cambridge, 1994, p. 140 )

Richard Baxter, after Robert White, oil on canvas based on a work of 1670. National Portrait Gallery, NPG 521. Reproduced under a creative commons license.

 Both Milton and Baxter were responding directly to Harrington's concern with accountability and his distinctive proposals for how this might be secured. Harrington insisted that members of both legislative houses, along with most office holders within the commonwealth, should hold their positions for a period of three years after which they would be required to spend an equivalent period out of office. Elections, though, would occur annually, with one third of the members of each assembly being replaced each year. This system had some advantages. Not only did it mean that there would be no hiatus between the ending of one parliament and the opening of the next, but it also meant that at any time the assemblies would be composed of one third of members with two years' experience who could speak as experts, one third who were in the process of developing their expertise, and one third who would bring new ideas and approaches to national government.

Harrington, and many of his contemporaries, would have identified severe problems with our modern parliamentary system as regards accountability. Holding elections just once every five years would have seemed foolish and dangerous to many of them. Moreover, the idea that at the end of a given parliament the same MPs could immediately be re-elected, without any official scrutiny of their conduct, would certainly have been condemned by Wither and Harrington. They would have derided the fact that it is possible for an MP to sit for more than 40 years without any time out of office - as the 'father of the house' Tam Dalyell did. While it is necessary to balance accountability against the benefits derived from experience, a major problem with our system, as Harrington would have recognised, is that because they are not forced to spend time out of office, members of Parliament can quickly become separated from the interests and concerns of the general public. Moreover, their ability to make laws means that they can prescribe different rules for themselves than for the rest of the population. They do not, as Harrington would have put it, have to live under the laws that they make. Perhaps a move to a system in which there are more frequent elections (perhaps on a rotational basis), with the requirement of regular terms out of office, would increase their accountability?