#they also both have vastly different ideologies/philosophies that govern their respective lives and decisions

[cultoftheswag]

I've made my lamb vocally faithless/atheist and as a result they present themselves as seperate from the divine and as "one of the people" instead , but because devotion is something that can be harnessed and used as a power source , this creates the problem how they would even use an idol as a representation of themselves/their image in the first place. I think I could spin this around and have idolatry of the red crown be synonymous with the lamb , because they present the crown as the means of divinity used for the good of the common folk ,and the lamb is just the mortal guy burdened with being the bridge between divine and mortal (but obviously they are the only one allowed to wear the crown and by extension the one to decide how the court runs, don't ask to wear the crown ♥️♥️♥️).

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I enjoyed reading your answer about your very British Conservatism being influenced by the ideas Edmund Burke and of course Burke became famous for his opposition to the French Revolution and the ideas therein. Given that you are a British conservative living in Paris and Bastille Day is soon upon France (July 14) was the French Revolution really a revolution or just a changing of the guard ie removing one elite (the nobility) to make room for another elite (the bourgeois)? Was it just Burke who thought that or other prominent philosophers?

I will have to say more about the conservative beliefs I hold at another time because it’s more than just following the ideas of Edmund Burke, great though he was. Because while certainly he is good bench mark to understand Conservative ideas and he has become a standard bearer for modern political conservatism, his ideas and legacy remains fiercely debated and the question of whether he was a philosopher at all in the traditional sense of the term is also hotly discussed by scholars.

What we can say with somewhat more certainty is that he was arguably the first one who was ‘forced’ to articulate Conservative principles and ideas on paper. But Conservatism didn’t begin with Burke because he was articulating what was already known to past generations and to his contemporary peers. There was no need to systemise a way of thinking and get it down onto paper. So at heart conservatism isn’t a rigid set of ideological beliefs but a state of being rooted in experience, common wisdom, custom, and what Burke called ‘the nature of things’. For Burke the so-called French Revolution went against the nature of things.

According to the standard narrative, the French celebrate their National Day each year on July 14 by remembering the storming of the Bastille, the hated symbol of the antiquated ancien regime. It was at this key point that the united people took the law in its own hands and gave birth to modern France in a heroic revolution.

But was it a revolution?

In Burke’s time opinion was divided all across Europe to interpret the seismic upheaval in France. It really depended on where you were living and under what particular regime.

I can’t go into a whole survey of thinkers and their thought and opinions they held but let me settle on one interesting one figure only because he’s such a fascinating thinker whose ideas continue to influence our moral and political philosophy. I’m talking about Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), the famous German philosopher and prominent thinker of his time.

In the view of Immanuel Kant there was no real revolution. He understood it as an unlawful and violent toppling of the old regime. Writing in the wake of the events, he concluded that the King, by a very serious error in judgment had unintentionally abdicated and left the power to the people. Kant agnostically asked: was it really a revolution, or not?

Every thinker writes within the context of his times and Kant is no different. Kant’s view has often been derided as a sneaky way to justify the revolution without being seen in public as doing so. Defending the revolution publicly could attract the King’s ire. The Prussian king, like all Europe’s sovereigns, feared the advancement of the revolution, and endorsements by opinion leaders might hasten that outcome. Kant, who was a professor at Königsberg, was Germany’s premier philosopher. He had many followers and defended a highly idealistic moral theory with clear affinities to the ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity. Thus, fear of censorship could have been Kant’s reason for misrepresenting the event as something else than a revolution.

But perhaps Kant’s interpretation was quite sincere?

If we explore Kant’s politics in context the first thing to notice is the scope of his argument: it was about the events of 1789, not the various (and bloody) transformations of the next decade. Moreover, the events he had in mind resembled a fairly orderly democratic transition. King Louis XVI was facing a disastrous debt crisis and his juridical institutions were recalcitrant to establish new taxes to make up for the debt. To solve the situation, the absolute monarch invited all male taxpayers over 25 years of age to elect deputies to a representative assembly (called the Estates-General), which was to deliberate about solutions to the debt and on how to improve the state’s wellbeing in general. This proto-democratic assembly met at Versailles on May 5, 1789.

Almost immediately, it became apparent that this archaic arrangement - the group had last been assembled in 1614 - would not sit well with its present members. Although Louis XVI granted the Third Estate greater numerical representation, the Parlement Of Paris stepped in and invoked an old rule mandating that each estate receive one vote, regardless of size. As a result, though the Third Estate was vastly larger than the clergy and nobility, each estate had the same representation - one vote. Inevitably, the Third Estate’s vote was overridden by the combined votes of the clergy and nobility.

The fact that the Estates-General hadn’t been summoned in nearly 200 years probably says a thing or two about its effectiveness. The First and Second Estates - clergy and nobility, respectively - were too closely related in many matters. Both were linked intrinsically to the royalty and shared many similar privileges. As a result, their votes often went the same way, automatically neutralising any effort by the Third Estate.

Additionally, in a country as secularised as France at the time, giving the church a full third of the vote was ill-advised: although France’s citizens would ultimately have their revenge, at the time the church’s voting power just fostered more animosity. There were numerous philosophers in France speaking out against religion and the mindless following that it supposedly demanded, and many resented being forced to follow the decisions of the church on a national scale.

Beyond the chasm that existed between it and the other estates, the Third Estate itself varied greatly in socioeconomic status: some members were peasants and labourers, whereas others had the bourgeois occupations, wealth, and lifestyles of nobility. These disparities between members of the Third Estate made it difficult for the wealthy bourgeois members to relate to the peasants with whom they were grouped.

Because of these rifts, the Estates-General, though organised to reach a peaceful solution, remained in a prolonged internal feud. It was only through the efforts of men such as Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès (1748-1836) that the members of the Third Estate finally realised that fighting among themselves was fruitless and that if they took advantage of the estate’s massive size, they would be a force that could not be ignored.

The summoning of the Estates General assembly was usually thought of as a revolutionary act, since the King had not intended to relinquish his absolute power. He had just asked for advice on how to run the country. But according to Kant, the King’s intentions were of no consequence. Once he had committed the error of setting up a representative organ he was no longer the sovereign ruler. Absolutism relied on the notion of the monarch as the sole representative of the people (which otherwise would be a disorderly multitude). Once the monarch abandoned that task he could no longer claim to be the ruler, and his sovereignty automatically “passed to the people”. So while the Estates General assembly was rigged to give veto power to the nobility and the clergy – the defenders of the old regime – the Third Estate acted in concert and asserted its power upon the assembly. Asserting its sovereignty, the assembly started preparations for a new constitution enshrining the values of liberté, égalité, and fraternité.

Kant’s view was not so controversial at the time. Edmund Burke (1729-1797) too thought the King had abandoned absolute sovereignty, something that pleased the conservative publicist, who was sceptical to absolute power whether in the hands of the king or the people. But Burke and Kant disagreed on what came in its stead. Burke concluded that power reverted to the ancient constitution of the feudal society that existed prior to royal absolutism. That society had dispersed power among the church, the nobility, the commoners, and the king. Kant, however, did not consider government of such mixed nature to be a real government at all, but just a collection of groups and persons pursuing their private interests.

Moreover, the representative assembly Louis XVI had convoked was elected by the people (or at least the propertied males) and was to represent not just special groups but also the nation as a whole. This was perfectly in line with Kant’s view of popular sovereignty as the ultimate source of justice in any government. He shared this view with Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès  who was not just the most influential French popular leader but also an admirer of Kant. Like Sieyès, Kant did not hate monarchy. He simply considered that once the popular assembly had been set up, the King was reduced to a constitutional monarch, with no right to reverse the process. The popular uprising that followed in the summer of 1789 and that culminated with the storming of the Bastille was not a revolution since sovereignty was already with the people. It was just the result of popular fears that the monarch would claw back the power he had abandoned.

For Burke, he undoubtedly did see it as a revolution. But interestingly he described the Revolution as a ‘democratic revolution’. Indeed he called this “new democracy” a “monstrous tragicomic scene” – monstrous because it was deforming the body politic, tragicomic because in its attempts to establish democracy it was undermining democracy’s own principles. At first, Burke seems to claim that the revolutionary government is democratic only in facade. “I do not know under what description to class the present ruling authority in France… It affects to be a pure democracy, though I think it is in a direct train of becoming shortly a mischievous and ignoble oligarchy.” Burke here seems to suggest that democracy is a cover for an oligarchic class rule in France (the bourgeois). But he doesn’t stop there because he is also quick to acknowledge almost immediately that democracy is emerging in France, and it is quickly on its way to degenerating into a tyrannical government of the masses. “If I recollect rightly, Aristotle observes that a democracy has many striking points of resemblance with a tyranny. Of this I am certain, that in a democracy the majority of citizens is capable of exercising the most cruel oppressions upon the minority whenever strong divisions prevail in that kind of polity.” Thus, Burke presents the revolutionary government as, on the one hand, an oligarchy pretending to be a democracy, and, on the other hand, a true democracy, in which the masses exercise tyranny through “popular persecution.”

For Kant it can be argued that he saw the French Revolution as not a violent revolution by the courageous masses, but a democratic transition. Burke would of course disagree. But I think both would agree for different reasons that the events that led to the French Revolution was set in motion by the king himself.

So perhaps one can agree with both that the real French Revolution began not on 14 July but 5 May 1789 when King Louis XVI summoned the Estates-General for its first meeting since 1614.

Thanks for your question.