Class, Language, and Power Analysis
by Zoltanous
Introduction
The social groups that thrived with the advent of capitalism also ushered in the era of liberalism, and it was observed how progressivism extended the global market's domination over humanity, prompting discussions on how to revive values that surpass economic considerations. This article will undertake a distinct approach to class analysis. Noteworthy anti-Enlightenment thinkers from Joseph de Maistre to Julius Evola have noted connections across the periods of Protestantism, liberalism, and modern progressivism. The parallels in the fundamental thought processes of extreme Protestantism and extreme liberalism are intriguing and somewhat controversial. Despite the common emphasis on concepts like freedom across these three eras, it's not immediately apparent what a religious dissenter from the 17th century, a 19th-century liberal revolutionary, and a 21st-century progressive activist share. The central argument of this article is that class analysis can sharpen our understanding of these issues by reconciling apparent disparities within a social frame, suggesting they are part of a collective intellectual legacy. It also elucidates how such individuals might be constrained by their own traditions and the deeper intrinsic logic of those traditions. For conciseness, this analysis will focus primarily on Britain and America, rather than continental Europe.
To begin, we aim to identify the common thread across generations, noting that they all employ similar language such as “freedom,” “liberty,” “equality,” and “rights.” While their precise definitions may vary, the consistent use of these terms is significant. This common linguistic ground suggests a philosophical lineage. Although not an exhaustive literary study, this link is supported by exploring connections between movements, especially in the Anglosphere, where political freedom has often been linked to the religious freedom associated with Protestantism. Post-liberal movements like socialism and progressivism have critiqued bourgeois liberalism for failing to actualize its proclaimed values, indicating that shared language stems from a progressive dialectic where each generation continues or contests the work of its forerunners.
A critical element in our analytical framework is Alasdair MacIntyre's exploration of the interplay between language and morality in political ideology, which inherently carries ethical assertions or rejections. His virtue ethics, particularly detailed in his work "After Virtue," highlights our estrangement from classical and medieval concepts of virtue and the subsequent changes in moral language. The Enlightenment marked a pivotal shift from understanding morality through human nature and purpose to adopting rule-based moral propositions, forsaking the derivation of "ought" from "is." MacIntyre points out that this cultural shift, particularly in Northern Europe, altered not only secular beliefs but also modes of belief, even among the faithful. This transformation raised critical questions about the justification of moral beliefs in a culture that, post-Enlightenment, shifted its educated discourse from Latin to vernacular languages. The word "moral" itself, derived from the Latin "moralis," originally meant "pertaining to character," indicating consistent behavioral dispositions and life choices. However, the historical narrative of "moral" is incomplete without examining the efforts to rationalize morality between 1630 and 1850, a time when it became a distinct concept separated from theological, legal, and aesthetic norms — a period when the independent rational justification of morality assumed cultural prominence in Northern Europe.
McIntyre’s brief quote here gives us the highlight:
“At the foundation of moral thinking lie beliefs in statements the truth of which no further reason can be given.”
— Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue: A Study In Moral Theory
MacIntyre's perspective on morality aids in discerning how a shared lexicon can obscure fundamentally divergent concepts. It's clear that adopting a common political vernacular and lineage does not preclude the evolution of the meaning ascribed to that language. The political genealogy linking Protestantism, liberalism, and subsequent movements has been established. Our next step is to explore the catalysts behind the shifting interpretations of this shared language. The thesis proposed in the remainder of this text is that class interests significantly drive the evolution of meanings within an inherited linguistic framework, aligning with the Patron Theory of Politics. Furthermore, this theory is echoed by Bertrand de Jouvenel in his book On Power: its Nature and the History of its Growth, where he outlines a vision of society and the dynamics of power shaped by the specific standings of the individuals involved. While Jouvenel may not have fully acknowledged the radical extent of his own analysis, he offers an account of the evolution of centralized power — a phenomenon starkly evident in the 20th century — which inadvertently challenges his deep-seated convictions, revealing a profound tension between his observations and his conclusions. His theory acknowledges the inherent social aspect of power and its inherent tendency to expand.
Protestantism
The genesis of Britain's Protestant era can be traced to the Tudor period, beginning with Henry VIII's break from the Catholic Church and solidifying into cultural dominance under Elizabeth I. While the interweaving of religion and politics makes it hard to pinpoint the exact moment when political liberalism began to overshadow religious concerns, the year 1688 serves as a reasonable marker. This was the year James II, Britain's last Catholic king, was deposed, and a new political order was established, one where the Protestant issue was resolved, and socio-economic matters took precedence.
Various patrons played a role in facilitating the Reformation. The Tudor monarchy was a primary political and economic driving force. Henry VIII, cognizant of the conflicts that preceded his reign, was intent on reinforcing the central royal authority. His concern for the continuity of his dynasty, compounded by the absence of a male heir, led him to seek divorces, ultimately resulting in the split from the Vatican. Equally significant were the "new men," individuals who came from backgrounds that were not traditionally noble or high-born, such as Thomas Cromwell and Thomas Cranmer. Both rose from families on the ascendancy. Notably, their political adversaries often bore noble titles, like the Duke of Norfolk.
Cromwell and Cranmer aligned with radical reformers from the continent and demonstrated unwavering loyalty to Henry's agenda of centralization. This created a dynamic where they, representing the interests of the upwardly mobile and the Crown, stood against the traditional nobility and the established Church. Cromwell's influence waned with his execution, which was partly due to the backlash against his reform policies and his role in Henry's ill-fated marriage to Anne of Cleves. Cranmer's influence endured longer, ending only with his execution under the Catholic Queen Mary. Their tenure marked the rise of many "new men" into positions of power. While Cromwell, Cranmer, and their peers were undoubtedly sincere in their reformist beliefs, it is also clear that their agenda benefitted their social cohort by diminishing the power of the established aristocracy and clergy, while temporarily bolstering the monarchy's authority. On the opposing side were "new men" as well, including the devout Catholic martyrs Thomas More and Cardinal Fisher. Their staunch opposition to the Reformation led to the forfeiture of their temporal power and ultimately their lives. They sacrificed their class interests in favor of their deep religious convictions.
Our focus is on the rhetoric employed to legitimize this period of transformation. Reformers highlighted criticisms against the "Romish" church, accusing it of introducing unwarranted changes and imposing excessive rules upon the believers. A key point of their argument was the autonomy of the English church and the assertion that the monarchy, not a religious figure, should be its head. At the time, discussions of "liberty" centered around the freedom of the English church from Roman influence. However, this notion of liberty from the power of the Pope was coupled with the continued emphasis on Christian responsibilities and faith. Freedom was framed as liberation from illegitimate power, not from rightful authority grounded in divine will and scripture. Yet, this pursuit of religious truth, free from worldly powers, would not end with the separation from the Papacy; it would eventually challenge the authority of the monarchy itself.
Cromwell and various Parliamentarians would later cite the need for further reform as grounds for their eventual conflict with the monarchy. The ensuing years would witness individuals from all social strata aligning themselves either with royalism and traditional religion or with the cause of political and religious innovation. Ironically, it was the monarchy that would endure the greatest loss. It becomes evident that the ascent and eventual dominance of Protestantism in England served the interests of its most fervent and extreme proponents – the emerging Parliamentary class and those from the traditional elite who sided with them. Both the monarchy and the new men initially supported the nascent Protestant faith out of self-interest, but royal power failed to anticipate the inherent trajectory of the very ideology and discourse it had endorsed. While the short-term benefits of the confiscated monastic wealth enhanced the monarchy's coffers, it also empowered the burgeoning class of church and parliamentary figures, whose descendants would continue to consolidate their influence at the monarchy's expense.
Bertrand de Jouvenel offers additional insights into this dynamic:
“To raise contributions, Power must invoke the public interest. It was in this way that the Hundred Years’ War, by multiplying the occasions on which the monarchy was forced to request the cooperation of the people, accustomed them in the end, after a long succession of occasional levies, to a permanent tax, and outcome which outlived the reasons for it.
It was in this way, too, that the Revolutionary Wars provided the justification for conscriptions, even though the files of 1789 disclosed a unanimous hostility to its feeble beginning under the monarchy. Conscription achieved fixation. And so it is that times of danger, when Power takes action for the general safety, are worth much to it in accretion to its armoury, and these, when the crisis has passed, it keeps.”
— Bertrand de Jouvenel, On Power: The Natural History of Its Growth
In Europe, a comparable evolution of the relationship between the middle class and the monarchy unfolded. The turbulent Wars of Religion in France led to a precarious climate for the French state. In an attempt to stabilize the situation, Henry IV chose to convert to Catholicism, a decision that ultimately led to his assassination. The French state sought to prevent the recurrence of such civil strife as seen in the 16th century, leading to a period of state consolidation under the guidance of Cardinal Richelieu. A series of reforms were enacted to enhance the effectiveness of the royal administration.
Louis XIV took this a step further by favoring bourgeois officials over those of aristocratic lineage, recognizing that middle-class servants of the crown would be more dependent on the monarchy and thus less likely to engage in rebellion. His preference was informed by the lessons of his early experiences with the threat of aristocratic uprisings. Despite France's identity as a Catholic nation, it was the very religious turmoil that catalyzed the state's drive for greater unity and increased dependency on the middle class, or bourgeoisie, as a stabilizing force within the government.
Whig Liberalism
The Glorious Revolution of 1688 established the supremacy of Parliament and left the incoming monarchs, William and Mary, reliant on its support. The class dynamics within Protestantism saw a progression from the rise of influential 'new men' under the patronage of the monarchy to the eventual sidelining of royal power by an empowered class of Parliamentarians. By this juncture, the concepts of religious and political freedom were intricately linked, a sentiment encapsulated in the celebrated pronouncements of the Whig statesman William Pitt.
“The errors of Rome are rank idolatry, a subversion of all civil as well as religious liberty, and the utter disgrace of reason and of human nature.”
— William Pitt, letter to the Bishop of Gloucester William Warburton
During this period, the Whigs made their debut under this appellation. The 18th century marked the emergence of political liberalism as a distinct intellectual framework. It was a time when many new families, including the Pitts, rose to prominence within the Parliamentary elite. These families often amassed their wealth through the burgeoning opportunities offered by colonial ventures, whether in America or with the East India Company, or through military careers.
Early on, Protestantism had been championed by ambitious newcomers who had to work within the confines of the established church and aristocracy. Their influence hinged on gaining the support of these entrenched institutions. Fast forward two centuries, and a growing number of individuals were capitalizing on the chances to ascend the social ladder, either domestically or through colonial enterprises. Although they still operated within the established societal framework, there was an increased possibility to amass power independently. Consequently, it is not surprising that there was a significant evolution in the discourse about liberty, which became more secular and less entwined with strict religious obligations.
A quintessential figure in this intellectual shift was John Locke, born to a family rooted in Puritanism and Parliamentary allegiance. Locke introduced the concept of liberty as a natural human condition, limited only by the social contract. While earlier reformers had emphasized a commitment to preserving the Christian faith, Locke concluded his Two Treatises of Government with a revolutionary assertion: the right to political rebellion. In the 18th century, the Radical Whigs drew upon his ideas to advocate for political agendas more progressive than the Protestantism of earlier times or the settlement of 1688. Many of the rising class found a voice in the Radical Whigs, but it was in America where Locke’s followers saw their most significant triumphs and where the class motivations behind their actions are most evident.
Among the American Founding Fathers, George Washington was unique in his gentry heritage, yet this did not define his colonial status. Figures such as John Jay, Thomas Jefferson, and John Hancock represented the economic elite of the colonies among those advocating for separation. The success of the American Revolution meant the powers once held by the Crown and British Parliament would transfer to their hands. It is crucial to recognize the interconnectedness between the leading colonial families and the Parliamentary class in Britain, especially the Radical Whigs. The actions of Edmund Burke and Charles James Fox, who embodied the conservative and radical wings of the Whig party, respectively, are instructive. Burke was a vocal proponent of American interests in Parliament and championed the colonies' right to self-taxation. His advocacy rested on two pillars: firstly, the economic interest of Britain in preserving profitable trade with America rather than imposing taxes, and secondly, the appeal to the tradition of English liberty. This latter point is particularly relevant to our interests, which Burke elucidates in his speech "On American Taxation:”
“Leave the Americans as they anciently stood, and these distinctions, born of our unhappy contest, will die along with it… If that sovereignty and their freedom cannot be reconciled, which will they take? They will cast your sovereignty in your face. No body of men will be argued into slavery.”
— Edmund Burke, American Taxation April 1774
And in another speech:
“The people of the colonies are descendants of Englishmen…They are therefore not only devoted to liberty, but to liberty according to English ideas and on English principles. The people are Protestants… a persuasion not only favourable to liberty, but built upon it…As long as you have the wisdom to keep the sovereign authority of this country as the sanctuary of liberty, the sacred temple consecrated to our common faith, wherever the chosen race and sons of England worship freedom, they will turn their faces towards you.”
— Edmund Burke, Resolutions For Conciliation With The Colonies March 1775
In his discourse, Burke reshaped the narrative of freedom, detaching it from its traditional religious connotations. It's noteworthy that during this era, both Burke and Fox advocated for the rights of Catholics, signaling a shift in the notion of English freedom towards a broader political domain. This marked a departure from the earlier perspective, which closely tied liberty to the establishment of a free Protestant church.
Both Burke and Fox openly criticized King George III's attempts to consolidate royal authority within the government. Burke went as far as to rebuke the public celebration of victories over the colonial "fellow Englishmen" who were loyal to the Crown. Fox, on the other hand, was even more vociferous in his support for the American cause, hailing the revolt as a courageous stand of freedom against despotism. In a moment of colonial adversity after the defeat at Long Island, Fox expressed a steadfast wish that the British would continue to stand by those who fought valiantly for Whig ideals, despite their setbacks. The convergence of interests between the British and American political elites was so pronounced that, shortly after the American insurrection was quelled, on April 6, 1780, the British Parliament deliberated upon and approved a motion declaring that the influence of the monarchy had grown excessively and needed to be curtailed. The motion's narrow victory, with a vote of 233 to 215, underscored the contentious nature of the Crown's authority.
Jouvenel further emphasizes how the rhetoric surrounding liberty evolved over time, reflecting these political and ideological shifts:
“The growth of its authority strikes private individuals as being not so much a continual encroachment on their liberty, as an attempt to put down various petty tyrannies to which they have been subject. It looks as though the advance of the state is a means to the advance of the individual.”
— Bertrand de Jouvenel, On Power: The Natural History of Its Growth
It is evident that there was a transformation in the way liberty was discussed and understood. Nonetheless, it is important to recognize that both the religious and political interpretations of liberty were aligned with the aspirations of a specific social group. This group was composed of emerging families, the middling ranks of nobility, and those accumulating wealth, initially through the seizure of monastic properties and later through the profits of colonial ventures.
Labour and Socialism
The narrative from the 16th to the 18th century can be seen as the rise of a new economic class. However, the 19th century introduced a significant new contender: the proletariat. Following the ascent of the bourgeoisie, which simultaneously led to the formation of a working class, the concept of workers' rights quickly gained momentum—merely a generation after figures like Burke had their say. By 1820, the Radical War had erupted, accompanied by a wave of strikes from skilled laborers such as weavers and other tradespeople. Socialists like Robert Owen played a pivotal role in fostering the trade union movement starting in the 1830s.
The interests of these classes diverged sharply. The revolutionary bourgeoisie, already wielding considerable and growing economic clout, sought not to acquire the means for social construction but rather to dismantle the political barriers that prevented them from doing so. Their struggle was framed around the notion of "liberty." In contrast, for the emergent middle and working classes, the resources for societal change were still out of reach. Therefore, if they were to adopt the rhetoric of freedom and liberty, it had to be redefined to include the provision of opportunities and resources.
Jouvenel delves into the intertwining of Socialism and Liberalism, analyzing how these movements converged and diverged in their interpretations and applications of freedom:
"Where will it all end? In the destruction of all other commands for the benefit of one alone - that of the state. In each man's absolute freedom from every family and social authority, a freedom the price of which is complete submission to the state. In the complete equality between themselves and all citizens, paid for by their equal abasement before the power of their absolute master - the state. In the disappearance of every constraint which does not emanate from the state, and in the denial of every pre-eminence which is not approved by the state. In a word, it ends in the atomization of society, and in the rupture of every private tie linking man and man, whose only bond is now their common bondage to the state. The extremes of individualism and socialism meet: that was their predestined course."
— Bertrand de Jouvenel, On Power: The Natural History of Its Growth
Furthermore, the Chartist movement emerged as the first to harness enduring momentum and partial support from the press, focusing on extending suffrage rights. The movement aimed to dismantle the remaining political barriers for the middle and working classes by advocating for the right to vote for every man. Although complete success in this endeavor was not realized until 1918, the Chartist cause witnessed a notable evolution in the language of advocacy. While they did not completely abandon the language of liberty, they brought concepts like equality and the right to vote to the forefront. The absence of these rights was framed as a form of enslavement, thus infringing upon liberty itself. The Northern Star, a newspaper supporting the Chartist movement, highlighted the plight of three and a half million individuals who sought to voice their grievances and demand their rights. However, their pleas were ignored by the 'House,' denying them the opportunity to be heard. Despite their peaceful overtures for legal equality and unity, the enfranchised and privileged classes rejected their appeals, leaving them in a state of continued oppression.
From 1688 onwards, a new ideological lexicon began to establish itself, repurposing concepts like liberty to validate and further the interests of those wielding the terms. Thus, it should not come as a surprise that in the 19th century, this lexicon was inherited and once more radically reinterpreted. This aligns with our theory: liberalism remains consistent as a tradition of language and rhetoric, yet it evolves to reflect the shifting interests of its proponents. However, the pursuit of voting rights was not an end in itself for these movements; it was a means to an end. Their ultimate objectives were broader access to wealth, education, and a more substantial economic foundation. With the emergence of radical ideologies like communism, the stage was set for a potential confrontation between the established bourgeoisie and the burgeoning middle and working classes. The prevalent dissatisfaction provided a platform for aspiring politicians to ally themselves with the 'lower' classes against the 'higher' ones. While many in the bourgeoisie were apprehensive about the threat of socialism, some within the parliamentary ranks perceived an opportunity. They believed that through new economic policies that either granted or redistributed wealth, they could mitigate the impetus behind radical movements. This strategy had previously proven effective in Bismarck's Germany.
One of the foremost groups in this endeavor was the Fabian Society, which crafted a distinctly modern agenda. The Fabians posited that a socialist society could be incrementally built by a politically enlightened elite, who could uplift the working classes while maintaining their own position. Together with this "aristocratic socialism," they also endorsed "enlightened imperialism," arguing that the British Empire could propagate liberal values. Notably, in their dispassionately analytical writings, such as the Fabian essays on Socialism, the traditional language of liberty was supplanted by a more sociological emphasis on collective progress and equality.
“…the inevitable outcome of Democracy is the control by the people themselves, not only of their own political organization, but, through that, also of the main instruments of wealth production; the gradual substitution of organized coöperation for the anarchy of the competitive struggle; and the consequent recovery, in the only possible way, of what John Stuart Mill calls ‘the enormous share which the possessors of the instruments of industry are able to take from the produce.’”
— Sidney Webb, The Historic Basis of Socialism
In essence, the democratic concept's economic dimension is synonymous with Socialism. With the advent of the Fabian Society, a segment of the bourgeoisie shifted away from the age-old discourse of English liberties towards a language of internationalism, equal opportunity, stability, and a pursuit of scientific objectivity. The Fabians included individuals from the lower-middle and working classes who had leveraged educational opportunities provided by philanthropic initiatives to rise in society. Figures such as George Bernard Shaw, H.G. Wells, and Annie Besant are examples of those who, through their engagement in literature and culture, became influential and advocated for reforms like Irish and Indian self-governance.
The Fabian Society, through its cultural influence and the mainstreaming of its ideas, impacted a range of political perspectives, from Social Democrats to Mosley’s fascist movement and the emerging Labour party. Following World War I, the victory of liberal internationalism and the subsequent formation of welfare states demonstrated the parliamentary class's remarkable ability to preserve its status. The unifying effect of the Great War, along with wealth distribution systems, aligned the interests of the working and middle classes with those of the governing elite, allowing talented individuals to rise within this hierarchy. Although their economic position remained stable despite the shift of global power to the United States, their geopolitical influence was somewhat diminished.
Progressivism and The Coalition of Minorities
As the formal Empire dissolved, the world grappled with maintaining a global economic system. By the late 20th century, corporations had established international supply chains, and immigration to Western nations rose steadily. The U.S. removed racial considerations from its immigration policy in 1965, and despite UK governments promising to control immigration, numbers continued to increase. Ethnic issues, alongside economic ones, became a platform for politicians to advance their careers, just as the wartime necessity for working women eventually supported the need to expand the labor force.
The 1970s economic stagnation presented a significant challenge, with inflation plaguing both the UK and the U.S., accompanied by deindustrialization and rising unemployment. Privatization was promoted as a solution to kickstart growth, a strategy pursued by leaders like Thatcher and Reagan. However, it faced strong opposition from political forces grounded in labor support.
A shift towards identity politics helped to weaken this opposition by focusing on the conflicts between migrants and native populations, particularly in working-class areas. Conservatives leveraged these tensions to attract working-class votes with promises of restriction and law enforcement, while the Left promoted integration and often branded opposing views as low-status or racist. The entry of women into the workforce was similarly politicized, with conservatives defending family values as the market dynamics assimilated family roles, and progressives advocating for labor force expansion.
This strategic divide-and-conquer approach fractured the working and middle-class institutions, leading to a political fragmentation evident in phenomena like Brexit and the rise of Trump, both born from the resulting discontent. Despite these upheavals, the discourse of freedom and equality inherited from liberalism and shaped by socialism persisted, though now with a cosmopolitan twist focusing on cultural oppression and the liberation of a coalition of minority groups. Intersectionality introduced new terminology, framing freedom and equality as unattainable until all layers of oppression were dismantled.
This ideological shift had two significant outcomes. Firstly, potential working-class power centers like political parties, universities, unions, and activist groups were neutralized by infighting and intersectional disputes. Secondly, some minority coalition members gained wealth and joined the bourgeois class, using intersectional rhetoric to bolster their influence within that class. As bourgeois institutions adapted their language to these shifts, individuals on the margins found an incentive to promote their interests through the prevailing ideological framework, leveraging the threat of ostracism or seeking to avoid such a fate themselves, all the while enhancing their status.
In the current economic landscape, the highest economic classes continue to secure the lion's share of financial benefits. Historically, during the periods dominated by Protestantism and Whig governance, there was a strong sense of cohesion among these classes as they worked to solidify their advancements. The labor disputes of the past were fundamentally economic, providing the bourgeoisie with a shared objective of self-preservation, even though there was debate over whether adversarial tactics or cooperative strategies were more effective. However, in a novel development, the 'high-low game' strategy has begun to foster increasing divisions within the bourgeoisie itself.
Jouvenel would say:
“A ransack the history of revolutions, and it will be found that every fall of a regime has been presaged by a defiance which went unpunished. It is as true today as it was ten thousand years ago that a Power from which the magic virtue has gone out, falls.”
— Bertrand de Jouvenel, On Power: The Natural History of Its Growth
Conclusions
Although this exploration of the evolution of ideological history has been extensive, it has yielded some distinct insights into the development of English and American liberalism through the ages. It has highlighted the enduring strands of ideological rhetoric that have persisted from the eras of Protestantism and the Whigs to contemporary times, with the concepts of freedom and liberty continuing to resonate as central tenets of liberal discourse.
This is a perspective shared by C. A. Bond in the book Nemesis:
“The modern system has managed to ingrain imperium in imperio not as a solecism, but as an unalloyed good. Institutions in unceasing conflict are assumed to balance out society and ensure no center in particular may hold total power. This concept was provided an intellectual justification by a conception of human anthropology which was developed by liberal thinkers such as John Locke and Thomas Hobbes, and traces its roots back through to voluntarist Christian sects.[x] The underlying premise seems to be that humans are naturally in conflict, and that we have entered into societal relationship from a state of nature. Leaving the question of just how coherent this voluntarist protestant anthropology is for now, we can concentrate on Jouvenel’s great observation which was that this division of power has led to continual and unceasing conflict between internal institutions using the concept of equality as a means of undermining competitors. A review of a number of case studies of modern history using currently available resources will confirm Jouvenel’s observation on the nature of power. The first such example is The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960’s.”
— C. A. Bond, Nemesis
What truly evolves is not just the term 'freedom' itself, but rather its interpretation through various lenses—religious, political, economic, and cultural. Concurrently, new interpretations and narratives about freedom begin to emerge. The dominion of the church recedes, making way for the concept of individual rights during the Whig period. The rise of the labor movement introduces the idea that equality is a necessary foundation for freedom. Progressivism then relocates these established concepts into a complex framework of overlapping social injustices. Each of these four periods contributes to the overall narrative, yet it's the continuity in the core elements of their language that allows us to connect them to a shared tradition.
But what drives these transformations? As we've observed, the changing dynamics of social classes offer the most compelling explanation. The reactionary critiques that draw connections between Protestantism, liberalism, and progressivism have sometimes led to misguided interpretations by their detractors. It's incorrect to assume, for instance, that the logic of Calvinism directly leads to the endorsement of pride parades. The premises of these ideologies can indeed lead to diverse conclusions. Yet, it is the interests of political actors that often determine which conclusions give rise to the next phase of the dialectic. The dialectical shifts from Protestantism to Progressivism, and ultimately to Socialism, happen as each new dominant group reshapes inherited values and language to suit their own purposes. This essay has detailed the specific interests at play.
The dominance of the rising bourgeoisie prevented the more extreme anti-state strands of Protestantism from taking hold in Britain. This class interpreted the principles of English religious liberty to mean English liberty within the state. The middle and working classes adopted the value of liberty and deduced that equality was essential to its realization. The coalition of minority groups pushed the notion of equality beyond political and economic realms and into the cultural domain. This marks the crux of a revolution designed to dismantle civilization by co-opting the revolutionary zeal of the bourgeoisie. Only a complete renunciation of this bourgeois ethos can reverse the trend.