The
newly-made mason quickly assimilates the admonitions of the Craft.
He has been instructed never to propose, or at all countenance, any act
that may subvert the peace and good order of society, and to pay due obedience
to the laws of the state. He is
directed to abstain from discussing any political or religious topic in the
lodge, and, by inference, at the meal or supper which follows the meeting.
If
he eventually assumes the chair of K.S., he signifies his acceptance of the
Ancient Charges and Regulations, the third of which enjoins him not to be
concerned in plots or conspiracies against government, but patiently to submit
to the decisions of the supreme legislature.
He receives the approbation of his peers if he is a peaceable subject and
law-abiding citizen.
In
the course of his endeavours to make a daily advancement in masonic knowledge,
our hypothetical mason finds that the Craft has ancient injunctions against
political discussion and revolutionary action.
The old ‘Sinclair Charters’ of Scotland explicitly acknowledge the
patronage and protection of the crown, and in a manuscript from the
mid-seventeenth century, it is demanded of masons:
‘. . . that you bee true men to the Kinge without any treason or
falsehood and that you shall noe no treason or falsehood but you shall amend it
or else give notice thereof to the Kinge.’ (Buchanan
Manuscript).
The
second Charge of the Constitutions of
Anderson (1723) contains the affirmation that ‘a mason is a peaceable subject
to the Civil Powers, wherever he resides or works, and is never to be concerned
in plots and conspiracies against the peace and welfare of the Nation.’
The situation would seem to be quite unambiguous.
However,
after further research, our good mason cannot help but remark a glaring
contradiction in the history of Freemasonry.
He discovers that the American revolutionary leaders of 1776, many of the
draughters of their Constitution and Bill of Rights, and indeed the first
presidents of the United States, were both Freemasons and rebels against their
lawful sovereign and government. Even
more alarmingly, many of the principal political actors of the French
Revolution, particularly during its first phase, were prominent French
Freemasons, mobilised under the originally masonic slogan of ‘liberty,
equality, fraternity’.
Advancing
in time from 1789, he finds that the great revolutions of the following century
are led by Freemasons: Simon
Bolivar, José de San Martin and Bernardo O’Higgins in South America; Vicente
Guerrero, and later Benito Juarez, in Mexico; José Marti in Cuba, José Rizal
in the Philippines, and Guiseppe Garibaldi in Italy.
Most notably, the Texans who rebelled against the government of Mexico,
and fought a successful war of secession, were predominantly masons, and indeed,
all the presidents and vice-presidents of the Republic of Texas were masons too!
What is he to make of all this?
The
great paradox of Freemasonry is that its history is inextricably interwoven with
the history of 18th and 19th century revolutions, at the
same time as its writings firmly reject political disobedience and condemn
subversion and revolt against the government of any land.
I intend to unravel this paradox by two approaches; one philosophical,
the other historical. For the
former, I have adopted the thesis advanced by Giuliano di Bernardo, professor of
philosophy, and for the latter, I refer particularly to a volume by Margaret
Jacob, professor of history (but not, obviously, a mason).
The two approaches, as we shall see, are not only compatible but
complementary.
It
is often stated that the original Constitutions
of the Order were formulated within a particular historical context in England,
characterised by dissidence between the royal house of Hanover on the one hand
and the supporters of James Francis Edward Stuart, or James III for the
Jacobites, on the other. With
supporters of both factions in the English lodges, attempts were made to avoid
conflict by protecting both. The
situation was actually more complex than that, as we shall see, but this image
makes a good starting point. Not
wishing to inflame political differences between the brethren, it is claimed
that Anderson wisely excluded the topic from polite lodge discourse, and
emphasised the loyalty and peaceable nature of Freemasonry’s members.
Curiously,
however, the Constitutions of 1723
specifically forbade the expulsion of a brother for such political crimes as
fomenting revolution, although they insisted that ‘the loyal Brotherhood must
and ought to disown his rebellion.’ The
key to understanding the equivocal attitude towards dissent is the concept of
liberty, and the philosophical context within which the brethren of the time
understood this term.
The
18th century lodge records speak much of the ‘liberty’ of the
brothers, or lay emphasis on the older term, ‘fraternity’, or, in seeking to
describe the relationship between all brothers, speak of ‘equality’.
What, precisely, did the Freemasons of the time mean by these words? ‘Liberty’ was clearly conceived of as something different
from the custom of the guild to confer on its members the ‘freedom and
privileges’ of practicing their craft. Mackey’s
masonic encyclopædia of the early 20th century notes:
‘The word freedom is not here to be taken in its modern sense of liberty,
but rather in its primitive Anglo-Saxon meaning of frankness,
generosity, a generous willingness to work or perform one’s duty.’
In
fact, to the masons of 18th century Britain, the word ‘liberty’
was understood not in this primitive sense, but precisely in the interpretation
given it by the philosopher John Locke in his Two
Treatises of Government of 1690.
Locke
has been claimed as a Freemason on the basis of a letter of his dated 1696.
This is now considered weak evidence, but the important point is that all
pious masons of the time firmly believed Locke had been initiated into the
Order. He had indeed been made a
Fellow of the Royal Society, a hotbed of Freemasonry, in 1668, and his
particular friends there were Robert Boyle, a known Freemason, and Isaac Newton,
a member of a quasi-masonic society. Freemasonry
in the 18th century has sometimes been described as Rousseauian, but
first and foremost, it could also be, and was, right into the late 1760s
Lockean, as well as essentially republican.
The
Two Treatises of Government was the
fruit of years of reflection upon the true principles in politics, a reflection
resting on Locke’s own observations. Government,
Locke held, is a trust; its purpose is the security of the citizen’s person
and property; and the subject has the right to withdraw his confidence in the
ruler when the latter fails in his task. Government
and political power are necessary, but so is the liberty of the citizen; and in
a democratic, constitutional monarchy, a type of government is possible in which
the people are still free.
Locke
wrote that we cannot be obliged to a government to which we have not given some
sign of consent (Book II, §.119), and that ‘the end of Law is to preserve and
enlarge freedom’ (II, 57). Governments
are dissolved when the ‘Legislative, or the Prince, either of them act
contrary to their trust’ (II, 221), and ‘Power reverts to the people’, who
may then establish a new legislative and executive (II, 222).
It is the people who decide when a breach of trust has occurred, for only
the man who deputes power can tell when it is abused (II, 240).
In the case of dispute ‘the final appeal is to God’, by which Locke
specifically meant revolution.
Liberty
is the antithesis of tyranny, for ‘As Usurpation is the exercise of Power,
which another hath a Right to; so Tyranny is the exercise of Power beyond Right,
which no Body can have a Right to. And
this is making use of the Power any one has in his hands; not for the good of
those, who are under it, but for his own private separate Advantage.’ (II,
199). ‘When any one, or more, shall take upon them to make Laws,
whom the People have not appointed so to do, they make Laws without Authority,
which the people are not therefore bound to obey; . . .’ (II, 212).
‘The
end of Government is the good of Mankind, and which is best for Mankind, that
the People should be always expos’d to the boundless will of Tyranny, or that
the Rulers should be sometimes liable to be oppos’d, when they grow exorbitant
in the use of their Power, and imploy it for the destruction, and not the
preservation of the Properties of their People?’ (II, 229).
In such a situation, revolution is justified, for ‘When a King has
Dethron’d himself, and put himself in a state of War with his People, what
shall hinder them from prosecuting him who is no King, as they would any other
Man, who has put himself into a state of War with them; . . .’ (II, 239).
Giuliano
di Bernardo shapes his argument on liberty around the ideas of Locke and the 19th
century utilitarian philosopher John Stuart Mill, reasoning that if
unconditional validity of the masonic proscriptions of rebellion were admitted,
then masons would be obliged to respect any
civil state power, whether democratic or tyrannical:
‘But then, how can faithfulness
or indifference be reconciled with masonic philosophical anthropology which
postulates freedom itself among the fundamental elements constituting a mason?
Freedom and tyranny are not compatible with each other, indeed they are
openly contradictory. Therefore,
Freemasonry cannot be indifferent to tyranny.’
(p. 141).
Di
Bernardo’s interpretation is that ‘A mason is a peaceable subject to those
Civil Powers that guarantee the expression of fundamental freedom.’
For:
‘If this were not true, then it
would not be possible to understand why, for example, American masons
(Washington, Jefferson, Franklin and others), after having accepted the
Constitutions of Anderson . . . , conspired and declared war against the
Motherland. Furthermore, it would
still not be clear why masons from all over the world, in different times, have
fought against all forms of tyranny, And finally, it would be difficult to
understand the thoughts and actions of those masons who dedicated their own
lives to affirming the principles that made it possible to pass from a medieval
and authoritarian type of society to a society founded on the rights of man and
nations.’ (p.141f).
Liberty,
then, is trumps in masonic debate on the rights and duties of Freemasons.
We now begin to understand why prominent members of the Craft were
central to the revolutions of the 18th and 19th centuries.
The question remains, however, why the English (and, indeed, Scottish)
masons of the 18th century took such pains to emphasise obedience to
the powers that be and respect for the law in their Constitutions
and other writings. To answer
this question, and complete our resolution of the great paradox of Freemasonry,
we must now turn our attention from philosophy to history.
Speculative
masonry has existed in England from at least 1646, when Elias Ashmole was made a
mason in a lodge at Warrington. At
first non-operative members constituted a small minority, but late 17th
and early 18th century lodge records reveal a rapid conversion of the
guilds of operative workmen to private societies of ‘free and accepted’
gentleman masons. Simultaneously,
there was a consolidation of the power of parliament to govern the nation, the
Whigs rose to ascendancy as keepers of the revolutionary heritage of 1688-89,
and the economic power of the craft guilds declined.
‘Speculative’ masonry may have developed from the influence of
William Schaw in Scotland and later spread to England, but the essence of
Enlightenment Freemasonry is characteristically English, and what was
re-exported to Scotland in the early 18th century was something new.
The emphasis on constitutions, laws and governance originated in London.
Some
researchers claim that Freemasonry remained ‘prudently silent’ during the
Protectorate, and it is only after the Glorious Revolution of 1688-89 that it
emerged into general consciousness. By
1717 it was sufficiently established, and the lodges numerous enough, for four
London lodges to take it upon themselves to constitute a ‘Grand Lodge’.
By the 1720s Fellows of the Royal Society were prominent in the London
lodges, and by 1725 there were 64 lodges on the roll of Grand Lodge.
The
craft guild had gradually evolved into ‘a society’ which retained something
of the old while incorporating the interests and values of the higher classes
who had now been recruited and who would rapidly come to dominate.
Bernard Jones notes that the Old Ms. Charges had long lost most of their
usefulness, but they contained some material which it was desirable to save and
preserve in rather different form. The
old religious language disappears, and the guild, complete with its myths and
rituals, has been embraced only to be transformed into something new.
Freemasonry
quickly spread in Scotland and Ireland, and to America and Europe; first to
France and the Netherlands, later to the German states and other countries.
This much is familiar: I now
intend to take a closer look at masonic thought and practice as it concerned
politics and society, and its relation to that historical phenomenon we now
refer to as the Enlightenment.
At
the time of the formation of the first Grand Lodge, the British situation was
unique. As a result of their
revolutions of 1640 and 1688, they had secured constitutional and parliamentary
government. However, Freemasonry
neither caused nor participated in these revolutions.
To ensure respectability, English Freemasons remained silent on any part
their members may have played, and Continental masons carefully reconstructed
the mythic history of origins from Hiram and King Solomon’s Temple, through
the Crusades and Knights-Templar, up to 17th century England.
The
exiled Catholic Jacobite Chevalier Ramsay’s story of Masonry coming to France
via the mediæval kings of Scotland was popular, as it bypassed the English
revolutions altogether. British
Freemasons themselves carefully avoided all mention of association with these
upheavals. The specifically British
origins of Freemasonry already rendered it suspect in most Continental countries
where parliaments, revolutions, bills of rights, and acts of tolerance were seen
as inherently subversive.
From
early in its history Freemasonry was accused of possessing democratic and
republican intentions, if not communistic ones, first by the Catholic Church,
later by opponents of the French Revolution.
Clerical critics were quick to identify TGAOTU with the god of the
deists. In 1738 the Papacy
condemned Freemasonry, its prime offence being that it ‘. . . imitates an
aspect of the government of Republics. Its
leaders are chosen, or dismissed, at its will.’
This was regarded as scandalous. The
myth that Cromwell had been the founder of Freemasonry was widespread in France.
However, it contains a simple truth:
this private society was a British, not a Continental invention.
The
British lodges were a startling innovation inasmuch as their members met through
‘sociability’ as individuals in
the lodges, rather than within the confines of the family, church,
confraternity, or other traditional bodies that primarily reflected their
position in society at large. There
is an important reason that this form of socialising arose first in Britain.
Its crafts and guilds had been weakened earlier than was the case on the
Continent, and the market economy was further advanced.
Even the Scottish merchant guilds had been denied their monopoly
privileges by the Scottish parliament as early as 1672.
By the 1720s British society permitted more open and relaxed social
interactions (although not necessarily marriage) between lords, gentry, and
commoners. In his writings, a young French visitor to London in the
1720s, Voltaire, made that familiarity famous.
With it came a degree of religious toleration unknown except in the Dutch
Republic.
Who
were these masons, and what did their ‘sociability’ consist of?
Surviving records show they were literate, of moderate to advanced
education, and sufficiently affluent to be able to afford the substantial fees:
in other words, they were probably congruent with the 20 per cent of
British male citizens who were enfranchised.
Their socialising frequently included eating and drinking to excess,
although their lectures and writings self-righteously censured such sybaritic
behaviour. They talked, debated and
discussed, and we have sufficient knowledge of the nature of their discussions
to reconstruct their world view, politics and significance for a changing
society.
However,
these Freemasons did more than simply convene and converse.
In their private sociability, they established a form of self-government,
complete with constitutions and laws, elections and representatives.
They bestowed sovereignty on this government and gave it their
allegiance, yet it could in turn be altered or removed by the consent of a
majority of brothers. The lodges
became microscopic civil polities, new public spaces, in effect schools for
constitutional government.
The
virtues sought by the lodges were presumed to be applicable to governance,
social order and harmony, and the public sphere.[i]
Their significance was their ability to teach men distinguished by their
assumed merit how to integrate enlightened values with the habits of governance.
The lodges endeavoured to civilise, to teach manners and decorum, to
augment civil society. They taught
men to speak in public, to keep records, to pay ‘taxes’, to be tolerant, to
debate freely, to vote, to moderate their feasting, and to give lifelong
devotion to the other members of their Order.
Thus they became citizens,
in the modern sense of the word, rather than mere ‘subjects’.
The
gist of masonic rhetoric was invariably civic.
The miniature polities created were intended not only to possess internal
government, but also to be social and intellectual in character. They were never intended to be political in the partisan sense of the word.
One might say the lodges were deeply concerned about the political
without ever wishing to engage in day-to-day politics.
Masonic records are clear on the lack of specific political involvement
on the part of almost any European lodge. The
official masonic Constitutions published
in London in 1723 prohibited ‘any quarrels about religion, or nations, or
state policy . . . we . . . are resolved against all Politicks, as what never
yet conduc’d to the Welfare of the Lodge.’
But to understand this position, we need to know what London Freemasons
meant by politics.
‘Politics’
in 1720s Britain meant something rather different from the rest of Europe. When discussing ‘politics’ the masonic Constitutions meant party
politics, the conflict of organised groups precipitated by the evolution of a
new political nation as the result of the Revolution Settlement of 1688-89.
‘Politics’ was the competition for power between Whig and Tory,
Jacobite and Hanoverian, in a constitutionally protected parliament.
However,
to avoid politics did not mean to deny the civic.
As the Constitutions proclaimed,
Freemasonry was practised ‘when the civil powers, abhorring tyranny and
slavery, gave due scope to the bright and free genius of their happy subjects .
. .’. The enjoyment of social
harmony by the lodge members relied upon peace and freedom as guaranteed by the
civil authorities. Each lodge was
intended as a microcosm of the ideal civil society.
English
Freemasonry possessed distinctive civil and political characteristics shaped by
a social context derived from the English Revolution.
As Margaret Jacob notes:
‘With markedly political language
the Constitutions praised the reign of
the Roman emperor Augustus, using a contemporary parlance that signalled
identification with the Hanoverian and Whig regime, which had ascended to
political dominance in 1714. Predictably
the earliest British leadership of the Grand Lodge founded in 1717 tended to be
‘court’-variety Whigs, that is, supporters of strong ministerial government
and by their own definition the heirs of the Revolution of 1688-89.’ (p. 46).
The
goal of government by consent within the context of subordination to
‘legitimate’ authority was vigorously pursued by the Grand Lodge of London
and was demanded of all lodges affiliated with it.
Thus, the lodges were political societies, not in a party or faction
sense of the term but in a larger connotation.
The form of the lodge became one of the many channels that transmitted a
new civic and political culture, based upon constitutionalism, which opposed
traditional privileges and established hierarchical authority.
This
new culture, with Freemasonry as its vanguard, is known today as the
Enlightenment, a key passage in European development.
It began in England, but is strongly identified with France, where events
took a more dramatic turn. It
argued that people’s habits of thinking were based on irrationality, polluted
by religious dogma, and over-conformed to historical precedent and irrelevant
tradition. The way to escape was to
seek true knowledge in every sphere of life, to study the liberal arts and
sciences, to establish the truth and build upon it.
Its premises were liberal, pro-science, anti-superstition, and that the
state was the proper vehicle for the improvement of the human condition.
The
essence of Enlightenment philosophy was reason.
Logic had been borrowed from the Greeks as early as the time of Thomas
Aquinas, but Descartes and other 17th century philosophers had
applied reason to the traditional questions, judging it to be a powerful
avenue to truth. They understood
that logic alone could be used to defend all manner of absurd notions, and
insisted on combining it with this new principle, which embodied common sense,
observation, and their own unacknowledged prejudices in favour of scepticism and
freedom.
The
rising merchant class was the driving force of the Enlightenment.
They firmly believed that their new-found wealth was the result of their
individual merit and hard work, unlike the inherited wealth of traditional
aristocrats. But the chief
obstacles to the reshaping of Europe by the merchant class were the same as
those faced by the rationalist philosophers: absolutist kings and dogmatic
churches. In the course of the struggle, individualism, freedom and
change replaced community, authority, stability and tradition as core European
values. Religion survived, but was
weakened and often transformed almost beyond recognition; monarchy was to
dwindle over the course of the next century to a pale shadow of its former self.
In
England, while political liberty and freedom of speech were limited before the
Glorious Revolution, the so-called ‘coffee-houses’, which had arisen in the
period 1670-85, established a venue where the rising middle classes could meet
and engage in discussion. Jürgen
Habermas, the prominent German philosopher, has argued that this ‘public
sphere’ appeared first in England in the 1690s, in the aftermath of the
English Revolution, and he sees Freemasonry as anticipating the European-wide
adoption of this sphere as an alternative to absolutism.
Here he locates the earliest moments in the formation of modern civil
society. The lodge, the
philosophical society, the scientific academy became the underpinning, as
philosophers like Habermas and some historians have long believed, for the
republican and democratic forms of government that evolved slowly and fitfully
in Western Europe from the late 18th century on.
However,
it was not long before division came to English Freemasonry, in the form of a
schism between the Grand Lodge and a breakaway group of lodges who called
themselves ‘the Antients’, dubbing Grand Lodge ‘the Moderns’.
Between 1739 and 1751 the secessionists formed a rival grand lodge, and
the two were not reconciled until 1813. Bernard
Jones attributes this to the apathy and neglect of the Premier Grand Lodge and
its apparent inability to rule the Craft on the one hand, and differences in
ritual and ceremonial practice on the other.
A certain Irish element no doubt played a part in the split as well.
These
points are well-known, but Margaret Jacob uncovers a political and social
division behind the schism, which is somewhat more interesting and persuasive.
Although the masons spoke of all brothers as ‘equal’, this did not
obviate the role the lodges played as places that replicated social hierarchy
and order, based not on birth per se but on an ideology of merit. The lodges mirrored the old order just as they were creating
a form of civil society that would ultimately replace it.
In
spite of their rhetoric of equality, the early lodges were elitist, drawing most
of their members from the literate and modestly to greatly affluent classes.
The leadership was overwhelmingly Whig, and powerful and influential
Whigs at that. Originally, the
Whigs had been the revolutionary force behind the drive for constitutionalism
and liberty: now they had become
part of the Establishment, and sought to discourage further revolutionary
fervour by emphasising peaceability and law-abiding behaviour. This, more than Jacobite and Hanoverian sensitivities, is the
source of the masonic prohibitions on subversion, and even the discussion of
politics in lodge. Jacob remarks:
‘The Freemason coveted affluence;
he wanted prosperity, but without decadence.
His is the conscience of those Whig gentlemen who wanted to live like the
court and reap its benefits, while managing somehow to avoid the inevitable
slide into licentiousness and corruption. So
the masonic publicists emphasise the ritualistic and fraternal aspects of food,
drink, and song, seeking to make them into symbolic expressions of masonic
unity, harmony and moderation.’ (p. 67).
She
distinguishes between the ‘court’ behaviour of the Grand Lodge group, and
the ‘country’ opposition that gave rise to the Antients, which she
characterises as a ‘revolt of lesser men against their betters.’
The lionising of tradesmen and shopkeepers in the writings of the
Antients is a constant theme; they oppose the deism of the Moderns; they see
themselves as ‘reformist’. To
add an air of respectability to their ceremonial innovations, they describe
these as ‘Scottish’. On the
other hand, in the 1760s the Moderns were preoccupied with emphasising law and
order against Wilkesite radicalism,[ii]
and de-emphasising their own revolutionary heritage.
Let
us now consider the spread of Freemasonry.
In the 1730s Masonry became established on the Continent, especially in
France and Holland. These lodges
also enshrined British cultural values entwined with the potentially subversive
issues of religious toleration, relaxed fraternising among men of mixed, and
widely disparate, social backgrounds, an ideology of work and merit, and, not
least, government by constitutions and elections.
These values were the prized ideals of the Enlightenment, the
international cultural movement that laid claim to the secular and the modern.
As
these Continental lodges were replicas of British lodges, they conveyed forms of
governance and social behaviour generated within the unique political culture of
that island. Although men had voted
at meetings for centuries on both sides of the Channel, it was only in Britain
that they did so within a constitutional framework and at a national legislative
assembly where voting was by individual and not by estate or locality.
This
distinctive form of political culture nurtured a new form of civil society.
Individuals with voting rights, at that time a distinct minority in
Britain, identified with political parties and issues on both a local and
national level. These men read and
debated, formed reading societies, clubs, and lodges, where they tested their
abilities as orators and commentators, or as students of philosophy and
literature. In the lodges men also
became legislators and constitution makers.
England’s
revolutionary period lay behind it, so it was able to proceed relatively
smoothly and gradually down the road to what we know as modern democracy; but
English liberty was dynamite when transported to France, where resistance by
church and rulers was intransigent. The
result was, ironically, that while Britain remained saturated with class
privilege and relatively pious, France was to become after its own revolution
the most egalitarian and anticlerical state in Europe – at least in its
ideals. The power of religion and
the aristocracy diminished gradually in England; in France they were violently
uprooted.[iii]
In
summary, we can say that Freemasonry was one of the channels, perhaps the main
channel, by which the values of the Enlightenment were transmitted from Britain
to America, France, the Netherlands and, eventually, to all civilised countries.
The essentials of the message were liberty, tolerance and sociability,
and indeed as Immanuel Kant, the late-Enlightenment philosopher maintained, the
idea that through reason, all men could find a way of life that is satisfying
and fulfilling. What can we finally
say to our hypothetical puzzled mason on the great paradox of Freemasonry?
Firstly, we can with tolerable safety endorse the premise of Giuliano di
Bernardo that ‘A mason is a peaceable subject to
those Civil Powers that guarantee the expression of fundamental freedom.’ Without liberty, Freemasonry cannot exist.
Secondly,
we can show from history that Freemasonry was inevitably the bearer of
revolutionary Enlightenment ideas where liberty did not exist.
We know with reasonable certainty that the French lodges did not practice
politics, yet their philosophy could not but cause many of their members to be
active participants in the politics of revolutionary liberation movements.
Freemasonry may have been officially neutral, but its members were not.
And finally, we can remark that we are all, indirectly, the beneficiaries
of Freemasonry and the Enlightenment: we
now regard their general political values as so normal that we tend to take them
for granted. Secularism,
constitutionalism and parliamentarism are their heritage, obviating the need for
revolutionary action to achieve liberty. That,
perhaps, is the most important conclusion that can be drawn from this brief
study.
REFERENCES
I
have consulted a number of sources in preparing this essay, of which some of the
more important are:
di
Bernardo, G. Freemasonry and its Image of Man:
A Philosophical Investigation (Tunbridge Wells: Freestone, 1989).
Gould,
R.F. A Concise History of Freemasonry (London
1903: reprint by Kessinger, 1998).
Habermas,
J. The
Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere (Boston: MIT, 1989).
Jacob,
M.C. Living the Enlightenment:
Freemasonry and Politics in Eighteenth-Century Europe (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1991).
Jones,
B.E. Freemasons’ Guide and Compendium
(London: Harrap, 1973).
Locke,
J. Two
Treatises of Government (1690; this edition ed. Peter Laslett, Cambridge
University Press, 1963).
Mackey, A. Encyclopedia
of Freemasonry and its Kindred Sciences (Philadelphia:
McClure, 1917).
NOTES
[i]
Public Sphere. Term coined by Jürgen Habermas (1989) to refer to the
emerging independent society in 18th century Britain and the growth
of a new ‘public sphere… which mediates between society and state, in which
the public organises itself as the bearer of public opinion.’
The idea of modern representative democracy as first conceived by
Enlightenment philosophers included recognition of a living web of
citizen-to-citizen communication known as ‘civil society’ or the ‘public
sphere’. The bourgeois public
sphere was an area where people, ‘disregarding status altogether’, could
gather to conduct open debate, speak freely, have increased access to
information, and be independent from economic and state control. These factors were necessary for creating a genuine democracy
where everyone could participate in creating a society which was open and
accessible to all. Habermas’s
work relies on a description of an historical moment during the 18th
century when British coffee-houses, French salons and German cafés became the
centre of debate, and extends this to an ideal of participation in the public
sphere today. He develops the
normative notion of the public sphere as part of social life where citizens can
exchange views on matters of importance to the public good, so that public
opinion can be formed. The public
sphere comes into being whenever people gather to discuss issues of political
concern.
[ii]
John Wilkes (1725-1797), Freemason,
radical politician. Elected MP for
Aylesbury 1725, founded The North Briton 1762,
a newspaper that attacked George III and his appointed prime minister.
The king tried to prosecute Wilkes for seditious libel, but the Lord
Chief Justice ruled that, as an MP, Wilkes was protected by privilege.
Parliament then waived that privilege, but before Wilkes could be seized
he fled to France. He returned to
England in 1768 and was arrested. A
huge crowd surrounded the prison, demanding his release.
Troops opened fire, killing 7 people (‘The Massacre of St. George’s
Fields’). Wilkes was fined,
expelled from the House of Commons and imprisoned.
On his release he was thrice re-elected for Middlesex, but Parliament
overturned the results each time. He
then campaigned for freedom of the press, and began publishing parliamentary
debates. The government ordered the
arrest of his printers, but a great crowd surrounded the House of Commons, and
the government backed down. In 1774
Wilkes was elected Lord Mayor of London, and also MP for Middlesex.
He campaigned for religious toleration and the reform of parliament.
He supported the American Revolution, was a passionate opponent of the
harsh criminal code, and promoter of the radical cause.
The conservative trend in English Freemasonry was fostered by concern
over Wilkes, and later further strengthened by the excesses of the French
Revolution.
[iii]
French Revolution.
Space limitations have prevented me from expanding on the relations
between Freemasonry and the French Revolution.
The reader is referred to United Masters’ Transactions
Vol. 31 No. 7, Oct. 1996, where a paper by Bro. Hans Kracke entitled
‘Freemasonry and the French Revolution’ gives a general historical overview
of this relationship.
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