In 1789, the young Frenchman Charles-Jean-Francois Depont wrote to Edmund Burke and asked for his impression of the nascent French Revolution. Enthusiastic about the revolution, Depont hoped that the British statesman and philosopher would affirm its success. An endorsement, however, was not forthcoming.
In his reply to Depont—Burke’s first assessment of the revolution that he famously and vehemently opposed—he admitted that England’s constitutional monarchy was not the only form of government that could achieve “real practical Liberty.” France’s democratic stirrings, however, did not meet this goal of securing ordered liberty. “I must delay my congratulations on your acquisition of Liberty,” Burke wrote. “You may have made a Revolution, but not a Reformation.”
To cope with the “new order of things” and “Chaos and darkness” that would likely emerge in France in the coming years, Burke offered Depont some advice—”my very few hints…tho’ some of them I confess are not in the taste of this enlighten’d age, and indeed are no better than the late ripe fruit of mere experience.” Depont would do well to adhere to rules and principles that would keep his “life and Conduct in some steady course.”
The first rule was to beware of the “power of bad Men.” Ambitious men will often take advantage of the virtues of others to seek political power and serve their own interests, rather than the common good. And their attempts to revolutionize the state can result in extremism and violence.
“You will be told, that if a measure is good, what have you [to] do with the Character and views of those who bring it forward,” Burke wrote. “But designing Men never separate their Plans from their Interests; and if You assist them in their Schemes, You will find the pretended good in the end thrown aside or perverted, and the interested object alone compassed, and that perhaps thro’ Your means.” He continued, “All I recommend is, that whenever the sacrifice of any subordinate point of Morality, or of honour, or even of common liberal sentiment and feeling is called for, one ought to be tolerably sure, that the object is worth it. Nothing is good, but in proportion, and with Reference.”
A year later, Burke wrote a much lengthier reply to Depont, which became known as his Reflections on the Revolution in France. A magisterial critique of the dangers of radical and violent political movements, Reflections cemented Burke as the intellectual godfather of conservatism. But it also widened a split between Burke and other leaders of his Whig Party like Charles James Fox, who were much more receptive to the revolution. Fox, according to Burke, accused him of being “an Apostate from my Principles” and a “deserter from my party.” But what most concerned Burke was “the entire Revolution which has taken place in the party, by which it has wholly changed its Character, its principles, and the foundations on which it stood.” In other words, Burke did not leave the Whigs; the party left him.
Conservative intellectuals and political leaders today find themselves in a similar state of exile. The election of Donald Trump as president has ushered in a “new order of things”—a more populist Republican Party that now has undivided control of the government. Trump rarely discussed the party’s traditional conservative character during the campaign; his message more closely resembled the New Right movement of the 1960s and ’70s led by Phyllis Schlafly, Patrick Buchanan, and other anti-elitists, as noted by the Washington Free Beacon‘s Matthew Continetti in an excellent essay. Conservatives must now decide what to do next.
Do they try to assuage Trump’s supporters with policies that balance free-market capitalism and populism on issues such as trade and immigration? When should they ally with the Trump administration in the years ahead, and when should they actively resist it? Both are questions worthy of debate. But neither invites an easy answer. The path ahead seems to only offer “Chaos and darkness.”
Conservatives looking for a way forward would do well to revisit conservatism’s foundational thinker. In his letters (Harvey Mansfield previously compiled an excellent selection of Burke’s letters for the University of Chicago Press, and Jesse Norman recently edited a collection of his writings for Everyman’s Library), Burke outlined what he viewed as the virtues of conservatism: Prudence, Moderation, and Character. These principles comprise a persuasion, a predilection, a cast of mind. They do not change with one election. And no matter one’s stance on policies or Trump himself, they can still keep conservatives on a “steady course,” without sacrificing their morality or honor for “designing Men” and unworthy causes.
Madison famously wrote in Federalist No. 10 that, “Enlightened statesmen will not always be at the helm.” Political movements and leaders come and go. But conservative principles are woven into the fabric of nature; they will endure throughout the vicissitudes of politics and history. As Burke put it,
The Three Conservative Virtues
In his initial reply to Depont, Burke described Prudence as “in all things a Virtue, in Politicks the first of Virtues.” It originates in the humble recognition that there are natural weaknesses and limitations in human institutions; that practical perfection is superior to “Theoretick Perfection”; that it is difficult to discern whether our actions will yield the desired consequences. “The more perfect…cannot be attain’d without tearing to pieces the whole contexture of the Commonwealth, and creating an heart-ache in a thousand worthy bosoms,” Burke told Depont. “In that case combining the means and end, the less perfect is the more desirable….an object pure and absolute may not be so good as one lower’d, mixed, and qualified.”
Closely related to prudence is Moderation, “the Virtue only of superior Minds,” in Burke’s words. “It requires deep Courage, and full of [Ref]lexion, to be temperate, when the voice of Multitudes (the speci[ous] [m]imick of fame and Reputation) passes Judgment against you; [the] impetuous desires of an unthinking Publick will ensure no course but what conducts to splendid and perilous extremes.” A statesman, then, must “dare to be fearful, when all about you are full of presumption and confidence, and when those who are bold at the hazard of others, would punish your caution as disaffection.” Moderation is not to be confused with timidity or indecision; it is simply fortitude and temperance in the face of unruly passions and overconfidence.
A prudent and moderate conservative, in Burke’s eyes, does not seek radical change to please the passions of the public, and does not make the perfect the enemy of the good. He is grateful for established traditions and institutions and seeks to improve them incrementally, to “keep things where they are, in point of form; provided we were able to improve them in point of Substance.” This is the best way to maintain social harmony, to promote what Burke called “the concord of the citizens.”
In the 1790s, Burke feared that the revolutionary ideas of the French Jacobins would spread to Ireland, inciting Irish Catholics and Protestant dissenters to seek independence from Britain. The parliamentarian sought to alleviate Catholic grievances by promoting reform of the “penal laws,” draconian measures that restricted the voting and property rights of Catholics. This helped prevent a conflict between the few—British elites—and the many—Catholics. Class struggles of this sort fueled Jacobinism.
But Britain also protected Ireland, and Burke was not a supporter of the extreme position of independence. “In the Catholic Question I considered only one point,” he wrote to Sir Hercules Langrishe, a fellow supporter of Catholic relief. “Was it at the time, and in the circumstances, a measure which tended to promote the concord of the citizens? I have no difficulty in saying it was; and as little in saying that the present concord of the citizens was worth buying, at a critical season, by granting a few capacities, which probably no man now living is likely to be served or hurt by.”
Burke’s proclivity for prudence and moderation also shaped his approach to public opinion. He is often derided as an aristocrat in today’s democratic age, and he certainly conceived of himself in that way. But that does not mean that he did not care about or consult the views of the public, nor does it mean he did not believe that elites could be out of touch. As he told his Bristol constituents, “In a free Country, every man thinks he has a concern in all publick matters; that he has a right to form, and a right to deliver an opinion upon them….this it is, that fills free Countries with men of ability in all Stations.” He added, “In free Countries there is often found more real publick wisdom and sagacity in Shops and manufactories than in the Cabinets of Princes, in Countries, where none dares to have an opinion until he comes into them.”
Yet Burke also understood that the public’s passions often sit above its reason. With regard to his constituents, he once wrote that “I had much rather run the risk of displeasing than of injuring them.” This is why he supported free trade with Ireland in the 1770s, over the protests of Bristol merchants who were wary of competition: “It is the interest of the commercial world that wealth should be found everywhere,” Burke declared to the head of the Bristol merchants. If he had reneged his principles and public statements and backed trade restrictions,
Character, Burke’s final virtue, is in many ways the most important. It “sooner or later bids fair to attract every thing to it, as to a Center.” Owing to our fallen human nature, men are often attracted to vice, greed, self-interest, ambition. But character is also contagious. It can elevate the sentiments of families, communities, a nation.
In the 1780s, Burke pursued impeachment proceedings against Warren Hastings, governor-general of India, on charges of corruption. Burke’s party and most British citizens were either indifferent or opposed to his actions. As he told an acquaintance, “I have no party in this Business, my dear Miss Palmer, but among a set of people, who have none of your Lilies and Roses in their faces; but who are the images of the great Pattern as well as you and I. I know what I am doing; whether the white people like it or not.” Hastings was ultimately acquitted, but Burke demonstrated character by standing against corruption and the oppression of the Indian people, regardless of whether he had public support. Great nations should not gratify “the lowest of their passions” for “indirect and silly Bribes.” “Let my endeavours to save the Nation from that Shame and guilt, be my monument; The only one I ever will have,” he wrote a year before his death.
Burkean Conservatism Today
If today’s conservatives use Burke as a lodestar, how do they translate his principles into practice? The practical execution of ideas is often messy and uncertain. But there are a few important takeaways from his writings.
Conservatives are grateful for the Constitution, the separation of powers, and the rest of the founders’ institutions, and they must continue efforts to restrain an overweening executive and restore proper balance to the government. They must remain humble about the ability of government to understand and solve complex problems, with a skepticism of radical plans for improvement. But they are still reformers, and they still seek to identify and address the legitimate grievances of Americans, as Burke did with Irish Catholics. They would do well to favor reforms that empower families, churches, communities, and markets—the human institutions that are closest to the problems they wish to solve.
Promoting social stability and the “concord of the citizens” remains a priority for conservatives. And they must also make clear that they believe people of all races and religions are created in God’s image, and therefore worthy of love, respect, and justice (as Burke did with regard to India). There will be times, however, when they are inclined to act against public opinion if they believe that it is ultimately in the public interest. Burke attempted to mediate this tension in the Irish trade debate.
Conservatives also know there is much more to life than politics. There are some areas where policy can’t reach. Charles Murray, J.D. Vance, and others have chronicled the decline in religiosity, marriage, and employment in working-class communities. All Americans should try to think more locally, and promote a culture of faith, family, and work. Burke understood the importance of this. He discussed the “little platoons” of society in perhaps the most famous passage from his Reflections and all his writings: “To be attached to the subdivision, to love the little platoon we belong to in society, is the first principle (the germ as it were) of public affections. It is the first link in the series by which we proceed towards a love to our country, and to mankind.”
Insofar as conservatives can find common ground with the Trump administration, they can attempt to guide it in a prudent, moderate, and virtuous direction. But there will likely be times when this is not possible, especially if he seeks to act outside of constitutional boundaries. Conservatives will need to stand on principle. Just before Burke’s death in 1797, his intra-party nemesis Fox asked to meet with him and reconcile their differences. Burke’s wife, Jane, admitted that he felt pain at sacrificing this friendship, but she politely refused. She wrote to Fox: “Mr. Burke is convinced that the principles which he has endeavoured to maintain are necessary to the welfare and dignity of his country, and that these principles can be enforced only by the general persuasion of his sincerity.”
Daniel S. Wiser, Jr., is an assistant editor of National Affairs.
