The following essay is part of Northern Dawn’s Symposium for Canada’s 150th anniversary. The theme is Canada: Who Are We? We hope these studies of Canada’s heritage will inspire readers to consider its future, and the broader civilization of which it is a part. Those who rule must know what they are ruling.
The following essay is by Ron Dart. In addition to regular contributions to the journal Clarion, he has written and taught widely about the High Tory tradition, its religious and cultural heritage, and its impact on Canadian life. His most recent book is The North American High Tory Tradition, reviewed here.
The publication of Gad Horowitz’s “Conservatism, Liberalism, and Socialism in Canada: An Interpretation” in 1966 created an immense flurry and stir amongst political theorists and activists. Most had assumed that Canadian conservatism was just a variant of American conservatism and, in the USA at the time, the Goldwater-Kirk combination of conservatism would be much the same in Canada. However, the publication of George Grant’s Lament for a Nation: The Defeat of Canadian Nationalism in 1965 made it abundantly clear, that Canadian Toryism could not be equated with American conservatism. Horowitz had argued in his lengthy article, later published as the lead article in Canadian Labour in Politics in 1968 that there was a Tory touch in Anglo-Canadian political thought and action that would and could not be absorbed into the Anglo-American conservative matrix. Horowitz tracked and traced this Tory touch in his article, and many were the positive and negative reactions to it. It should be noted that Grant factored large in clarifying the Tory touch.
Horowitz replied to many a critic of his plough to soil article, and, in 1970, his article, “Red Tory”, in William Kilbourn’s A Guide to the Peaceable: An Anthology, linked the Tory touch to Red Toryism (the connection had been made earlier, though). Can the Tory touch be equated with Red Toryism? Horowitz thought it could, Grant did not. Additionally, what did Horowitz miss in his main thesis? It is significant that Kilbourn’s article in A Guide to the Peaceable Kingdom was “Tory Ontario”. There are differences to note between Horowitz and Kilbourn in their read of Toryism and Grant. It is significant that Horowitz never dealt with Stephen Leacock and, more to the poignant point, the High Toryism of religious-political thought in 19th century Canada, in any depth or detail. Such was the needful task of a meticulous historian that grounded his thinking as much in theory as in historic fact.
S.F. Wise is, without much doubt, one of the finest historians in Canada; the publication of God’s Peculiar Peoples: Essays on Political Culture in Nineteenth Century Canada grounds, in many ways, the thesis of Horowitz and Kilbourn in much firmer and more solid soil. This is not theory cut loose from historic events or historic facts bogged down in micro details delinked from larger political philosophy. And, to the telling point, Wise was keen to illuminate how the Tory touch has substantive historic reality in Canada, in opposition to Canadian historians and political theorists who only see Canada as a smaller version of the American liberal fragment. There was, as Wise articulates in his multilayered essay tome, a distinctive Toryism in Canada with predictable religious grounding. Wise is acutely aware that to do political theory from a purely secular perspective does a serious in injustice in interpreting 19th century Toryism in Canada.
God’s Peculiar Peoples places arrow in bow and hits the bull’s eye again and again in his twelve chapters: 1) “Sermon Literature and Canadian Intellectual History” (most Canadian historians simply ignore this genre), 2) “God’s Peculiar People”, 3) “Canadians View the United States: Colonial Attitudes from the Era of the War of 1812 to the Rebellions of 1837” (a chapter not to miss in which the Tory touch emerges in its fullness), 4) “The Rise of Christopher Hagerman” (oft neglected yet needful to know about), 5) “John Macaulay: Tory for All Seasons” (again, much to ponder in Macaulay that Horowitz ignores), 6) “Tory Factionalism: Kingston Elections and Upper Canadian Politics, 1820-1836” (which makes it clear Toryism was not a homogenous tribe), 7) “Canadians View the United States: The Annexation Movement and Its Effect on Canadian Opinion, 1837-1867” (a superb companion article to chapter 8) “The War of 1812 in Popular History” (not to be missed for a read of Toryism), 9) “Upper Canada and the Conservative Tradition”, 10) “Conservatism and Political Development: The Canadian Case”, 11) “Liberal Consensus or Ideological Battleground: Some Reflections on the Hartz Thesis” (quite pertinent for the Horowitz argument and those who oppose him) and 12) “The Ontario Political Culture: A Study in Complexities”.
Each of the chapters in God’s Peculiar Peoples goes to historic places Horowitz did not go; Wise, unveils and reveals, in a multidimensional and step-by-step way, the layered nature of Toryism (not necessarily “red”). He focuses on 19th century central Canada and, to the foremost point, the close connections between religion and politics at the time. This is an area Horowitz had little or no background in, given his more secular approach to political thought. Wise rightly realized that 19th century life in Canada emerged from a religious vision; such a vision had political consequences, and 19th century Toryism was deeply suspicious of the liberal American experiment to the south. In short, God’s Peculiar People had more than just a Tory touch, but such a Tory touch could not be reduced to a homogenous notion of what Toryism is in the 19th century. There is a tendency to equate conservatism and Toryism in Wise’s tome (and many do the same), but the distinction, when rightly understood, does make a difference.
It would have been of much use and value if Wise had probed more deeply and further the Anglican Toryism of Bishops John Strachan (Ontario) and Jacob-George Mountain (Quebec) to get a fuller sense of Anglican catholic High Toryism in the 19th century. Many of the Maritime bishops and priests were considerably impacted by the Oxford movement in England in the 19th century, and they shaped much of Anglican political life in the Maritimes at the time. The much respected catholic Anglican poet, F.G. Scott, stands very much within a long line and lineage of 19th century High Tory Anglicans. It is somewhat remiss of Wise and Kilbourn to miss and ignore such significant High Tory Anglicans in 19th century Canada. It is quite understandable, though, why Horowitz would be blind to such realities given his more secular approach and ideological leftist tendencies when interpreting Toryism. George Grant held Bishop John Strachan high in his roll call of 19th century Anglican leaders in a book review of Saint James’ parish (where he attended in the 1960s-1970s when teaching at McMaster University).
I might also add that Thomas Haliburton (1796-1865) has often been omitted from the list of important Canadian High Tories. Haliburton is a legend of sorts in Canada and he is often viewed as the first Canadian novelist who did well in the larger literary ethos of the time. Haliburton was much remembered for his Clockworker series that elevated the American entrepreneur, Sam Slick, to an ambiguous level. Sam Slick took to front stage in a variety of Haliburton’s novels published in 1836, 1838, 1840, 1843, 1844 and 1853. Haliburton playfully sports with the American Sam Slick, at times nodding towards his aggressive sale gimmicks and skills, at other times seeing such an approach to life as seriously problematic and demeaning. But there can be no doubt that Haliburton, the Nova Scotia High Tory, via his many portrayals of Sam Slick, built into the Canadian psyche a certain notion of Americans as slick entrepreneurs and a distinctive Canadian attitude to the “Sam Slick’s” across the border. Stephen Leacock would, a few decades later, draw much from Haliburton and the Sam Slick tendencies that Canadians should be wary of.
There can be no doubt that the United Empire Loyalists cannot be merely equated with High Tory Anglicanism, as Norman Knowles has rightly noted in Inventing the Loyalists: The Ontario Loyalist Tradition & and the Creation of Usable Pasts (1997). But there is, nonetheless, a distinctive High Tory Anglican heritage that needs attention beyond the liberal caricatures of it. Donald Creighton, probably, the finest High Tory Canadian Anglican of the 20th century, argued that the liberal “authorized read” of Canadian history tends to distort and demean the High Tory heritage for substantive ideological reasons. Such an approach by the liberal mandarin and family compact class in Canada has, for the most part, clear cut and levelled the Tory tradition by describing such a way in mostly negative terms. This pro-liberal and anti-Tory approach in Canadian history has served the liberal ruling class well, but has produced a dishonest Orwellian rewrite of Canadian history. Hopefully, in this the formal 150th year since Confederation, wiser and more balanced reads of Canadian history will emerge. A turn to the historic insights of both Wise and Creighton would illuminate much and go beyond Horowitz’s rather reductionistic approach to defining Canadian Toryism.
It is somewhat irritating that the most recent history of Anglicanism in Canada, Seeds Scattered and Sown: Studies in the History of Canadian Anglicanism (2008), never really probes or substantively discusses High Tory Anglicanism in any depth or detail—such again is the impact of liberal ideology both within the Anglican Church of Canada and the broader Canadian historic community. It is therefore to Wise’s credit that he, more than most, has walked the extra mile to bring the Toryism of the 19th century to light in a thoughtful and far reaching manner. Indeed, there is more than a Tory touch that needs to be covered and such High Toryism cannot be equated with blue conservatism or the later concept of “red toryism”.
There has been an unfortunate tendency to assume that the gender hierarchy of High Toryism historically relegated women to a merely docile role. An attentive reading and interpretation of 19th century Toryism in Canada contradicts such a notion. Two of the most significant women of the 19th century were Susanna Moodie and Catharine Parr Traill. Both women played a significant role in pioneering 19th century literature in Canada and demonstrated great competence within the social order they inhabited. Gentle Pioneers: Five Nineteenth-Century Canadians, although dated in some ways, tells the uncanny tales of Susanna-John Moodie, Catharine-Thomas Parr Traill and Samuel Strickland. The women in this timeless work of 19th century pioneer history emerge as creative and engaged leaders in the far-from-cultured setting they were raised and bred in.
I was fortunate, when younger in the 1950s, to spend summers in Stephen Leacock country. Leacock, as a young man, lived in the Lake Simcoe area. A leading lady of the time, and a dear friend of Leacock’s mother, was Susan Sibbald. The Sibbald home, Eildon Manor, was a centre of much High Tory life in 19th century in Ontario. Bishop John Strachan would often make trips to Eildon Manor to visit the Sibbalds and Susan Sibblad’s Memoirs tell a graphic and poignant tale of Tory Anglican life at such a period of time. Georgina: A Type Study of Early Settlement and Church Building in Upper Canada illuminates much about the historic and extended Sibbald family and their Tory leaders (and opposition to the rebellion). Eildon Manor was a centre, salon and fount of Anglo-Canadian Toryism. Susan Sibbald, like Susanna Moodie and Catherine Parr Traill were at the forefront of leadership in such a Tory ethos and setting.
Mazo de la Roche is buried close to Stephen Leacock at St. George’s parish in the Sutton area by Lake Simcoe. The parish was built by and supported by the Sibbald family. Mazo de la Roche was a 20th century woman, but her sixteen novels on the Whiteoaks of Jalna (the finest epic series in Canadian literature) deals, for the most part, with 19th century Ontario. The final novel in the series, Breakfast at Jalna, was set in the 1860s, when the American Civil War was at its most intense and heated. The American Civil War that raged from 1861-1865 in which an estimated 620,000-750,000 were killed (and many others seriously injured or refugees to the north) had an impact on De la Roche’s literary imagination. The North and South were violently destroying one another and the Tory Whiteoaks were in the thick of the fray. It is pertinent to note that Adeline Whiteoak (the matriarch of the family) both brooded over the family and set the agenda. Adeline was certainly no passive observer, compliantly taking a backseat to the leadership of others. Mazo de la Roche, like Susan Sibbald and Catherine Parr Traill, was a literary leader in Canada, and many of the women in her chronicles of the Whiteoaks give the lie to the notion that women lacked influence in the Tory social order.
The American War of Independence in 1776 forced many a British subject to make difficult decisions. Would the break from England and the forming of a new country be a way forward or would such a severing wrench too much from the mother country? There were those, obviously, for a variety of reasons, who were convinced the umbilical cord had to be broken. There were others who thought such a decision unthinkable. The latter group, the United Empire Loyalists, came to Canada in droves. Education was, as many soon settled in their new home, central to their growing national and cultural lives. Bishop Charles Inglis was one of the leaders of the northwards trek (his biography, The First Bishop: A Biography of Charles Inglis, tells his journey well and wisely) and he played a pivotal role in establishing, what has become, the oldest chartered university in Canada and the first English-speaking university in the Commonwealth outside the United Kingdom.
The University of King’s College was founded in 1789 by both Loyalists and Tory refugees of sorts that sought a more ordered and peaceful life north of the 49th, and education was foundational to their forward looking pathway. It is significant to note that University of King’s College, to this day, has one of the finest programs in Canada in grounding students in classical texts that have shaped western culture and civilization. The Foundation Year Programme (FYP) grounds students in the time tried wisdom that has been thought, said and done. The catholic and Tory Anglican ethos that pervades such a learning context has done much to preserve the ancient insights that are, again and again, being eroded by modern and postmodern education. The University of King’s College (initially in Windsor, Nova Scotia and now in Halifax, Nova Scotia) continues to incarnate some of the best of Tory Anglican education.
Likewise, Trinity College in Toronto has a history of catholic Tory Anglicanism at its root and source. I have mentioned above the pivotal work of Bishop John Strachan. Strachan, with other Anglican Tories, hard on the heels of the Oxford Movement on 1832 in England and the Rebellion of 1837, started Trinity College in 1852. The aim of Trinity was to raise up a generation of leaders in Canada through an educational setting in which theology, philosophy, ecclesial, literary and High Tory culture would be maintained and carried into the future. Needless to say, there was many a challenge to such an educational vision, but for many a decade Strachan’s vision persisted.
The fate and history of King’s and Trinity have gone in somewhat different directions since then, but when probed further and deeper, there still lingers an older vision of faith and education (and its perennial relevance to our time) at King’s and Trinity. The Tory touch, indeed, was and still is more than merely a touch.
I have, in this short essay, highlighted the fact there is much more to Canadian Toryism than either “Red Toryism” or merely a “Tory touch”. The role of educational institutions such as Kings and Trinity, leadership by women such as Mazo de la Roche (Chronicles of Whiteoaks), Susanna Moody and Catharine Parr Traill, Susan Sibbald, C.F. Wise’s God’s Peculiar Peoples: Essays on Political Culture in Ninteenth Century Canada (and Donald Creighton), and Thomas Haliburton’s Sam Slick portrayals, all reveal areas of Toryism in the 19th century that few have integrated or synthesized. Such a tradition cannot be merely dismissed as pettily reactionary or quaintly dated.
There is much to this way of being that lingers deep in souls longing for depth, wisdom and insight in an age in which most landmarks have been destroyed, history clear cut and the foundations undermined. The Hegelian form of progressive liberalism that has so come to dominate most areas of Canadian culture, education and religion has serious blind spots and weaknesses. Many of the most insightful in our time are searching for a centre that will hold and the classical Canadian Anglican Tory way has still much to offer for those who have grown weary of the tepid and vapid waters of ideological liberalism.
Referenced edition: God’s Peculiar Peoples: Essays on Political Culture in Nineteenth Century Canada Edited by A.B. McKillop and Paul Romney S. F. Wise Carleton University Press, Ottawa Canada: 1993
The following essay is part of Northern Dawn’s Symposium for Canada’s 150th anniversary. The theme is Canada: Who Are We? We hope these studies of Canada’s heritage will inspire readers to consider its future, and the broader civilization of which it is a part. Those who rule must know what they are ruling.
The following essay is by Bill Marchant. He writes at Northern Reaction.
Why are we celebrating Canada’s 150th birthday on July 1st, and not the 241st birthday on July 4th? Why did Canada not join America’s rebellion against Great Britain? (Being a good Loyalist, I will use the contemporary British name for what others call the American Revolution.) This is a question that seems to attract essentially no inquiry on the Canadian side, despite the fact that Canada as a sovereign state only exists because of the answer to this question. Americans will occasionally tackle it, but it is usually framed as a military question: “Why were we not able to ‘liberate’ Canada when we liberated ourselves?” However, even this question has faded into the distance in the last 100 years, since Justin Smith published Our Struggle for the Fourteenth Colony, and essentially answered the American side.
Perhaps the reason why Canadians do not ask this question is because the answer reveals uncomfortable truths about America’s founding, Canada’s old stock, and the nature of political power. But we here have no fear of uncomfortable truths; we revel in them, as an uncomfortable truth is no less a truth than a comfortable one.
Before revealing the true answer, it is important to dispel an easy answer that is absolutely false. This is the idea that America simply did not care about Canada, since it was cold and full of Frenchmen. In fact, the Continental Congress sent three letters, four delegates, and an invading army into Canada to convince them to join the Continental Congress and by extension the Rebellion. They also put an open invitation to Canada (and to no other colony) in the Articles of Confederation, and Benjamin Franklin’s opening offer for peace with Britain in the Paris negotiations was that Britain give Canada to America.
Clearly America cared, and cared deeply, about securing Canada to their cause. There are many, many reasons for this desire. It doesn’t really matter for our purposes why they wanted Canada. (If you’re curious, read the first five chapters of Smith’s book. It’s available for free.) What we want to know is, why did Canada say no? Though there are nearly as many reasons for this rejection as there was for America’s desire for Canada, two of the most important factors were Governor Guy Carleton, and the role of the American soldiers themselves. This implies that most other factors mentioned by Smith and others could be removed; if Carlton and the American soldiers maintained their roles, Canada would still have rejected America’s rebellion.
First, Carleton. Guy Carleton was British officer in the War of Austrian Succession and the Seven Years’ War. After the Seven Years’ war, in 1768, Carleton was chosen to be the Governor of Canada (at that point, basically Quebec). His actions as Governor are the first of our reasons why Canada did not rebel with the Americans. Carleton did two things incredibly, shockingly well: he restricted the press, and he kept the elites on his side.
Press in Canada was very close to nonexistent. There was a single printing press, which was used to print a newspaper called the Quebec Gazette. Carleton made the sensible and safe choice to continue the policy of his predecessors, and use the Quebec Gazette to post all new laws affecting the colonists, any government job postings, and information about what ships were coming and going and when. This seems trivial, but what it meant was that the Quebec Gazette was financially dependant upon the government of Canada in general, and Carleton in particular. And Carleton made it clear that there should be no politics in the Quebec Gazette. It is quite odd to read Smith and other modern historians discuss this; they describe the Quebec Gazette as incredibly conservative, when all sides agree that its content was in every way apolitical. The implication is that by not being expressly rebellious, the paper was therefore anti-rebellion. It is left to the reader to look for modern parallels.
The Quebec Gazette stands in stark contrast to American newspapers at the time. Everyone knows that the Federalist Papers were originally published in newspapers, but that was true of many political documents, the angry ramblings of Samuel Adams, Alexander Hamilton’s anti-Catholic conspiracy theories, and insane imagined speeches by British politicians, calling for the blood of Americans, all to work the American people into a rebellious fervor. And it worked. Congress was able to raise armies because the American people believed (wrongly) that the British were baying for their blood, and this belief was fomented and in many ways created by the radical newspapers coming out of Boston and New York and elsewhere.
Essentially, by passively preventing the Quebec Gazette from becoming rebellious, Carleton stopped it from inciting the Canadian people.
“But,” I hear my more reactionary readers call out, “what does it matter what the people want? Every successful revolution is just a power struggle between two sets of elites. They often use ‘the people’ as pawns, but the people are not the drivers!” This is a sound criticism that comes from Pareto and de Jouvenal. The belief is that there are no successful “popular uprisings”, outside of elites weaponizing sections of “the people” against each other.
I do not know if Carleton intuited this concept, or if he just happened to stumble on the right answer, but he acted as if he knew it. Carleton chose exactly the correct groups of people to keep on his side, and the correct group to neglect. There were five groups in Canada that could possibly be considered “elites.”
The first of them, the British civil servants, were appointed directly by London, and as such had a lot to lose in any potential rebellion. Carleton did not have to worry about them. The second group was the British military. As Carleton was a military man by birth and occupation, it was only natural that he would give preferential treatment to them. This also kept his men loyal during the American invasion, even when Montreal fell and things looked grim.
The next two groups were the old French elite class, left over from before Canada was given to Britain in exchange for Guadeloupe. These two groups, the Catholic Priests and the Seigneurs, were the groups most closely connected to the vast French peasant population. Carleton ensured that both of these groups were taken care of in the governing document of Canada, The Quebec Act. The priests were once again allowed to tithe the Catholic population, and the Seigneurs were ensured that their property rights would be respected. As such, when the rebellion came to Canada, both the Priests and the Seigneurs remained loyal to Britain.
The final group of elites was the English-speaking merchants in Quebec City and Montreal. These were mostly immigrants from America. They brought with them their rebellious American ideas. It has been noted previously that Britain attempted to appease the American demands for unimpeded speech, and that such appeasement encouraged rebellion by spreading and normalizing their ideas. Carleton made no such appeasements to the English merchants, and although they attempted to help the Americans, they never saw much chance of success, and kept their rebellious thoughts mostly to themselves.
By keeping the first four groups of elites on his side, and by not appeasing the fifth group, Carleton ensured that any rebellion would at the very least have an uphill battle. However, if the Americans had acted perfectly, they may have still flipped one or two of the groups to their cause. However, the American invasion was poorly planned. There were not enough supplies, so the army started buying Canadian goods. But they did not not bring enough gold either, so they started using paper currency, which the Canadians did not want. When the Americans realised that their money was useless, they began to steal from and pillage the Canadians. This was the final straw, turning large numbers of the neutral peasants and the somewhat pro-American merchants against the rebellion.
The Americans were not removed completely from Canada until much later, when Carleton routed them after the invasion of Quebec, but their hopes of having Canada join them as the fourteenth colony were essentially quashed at that point. America would continue their attempts. Another letter, the invitation in the Articles, the offer to Britain, later the War of 1812, and many more attempts both official and surreptitious were tried. But Canada rejected each, and that rejection can be traced back to Guy Carleton’s wise decisions, and the American Army’s poor planning and ill-prepared state in the early stages of the uprising.
There are at least two lessons to be learned here. The first is that a “free” press is a powerful weapon. Whoever controls the press in many ways controls the fate of the nation. The fact that the vast majority of the press today is aligned against those with rightward values should be grave cause for concern. The second lesson is that Canada is not America. We do not have the violent rebellious beginning that America had. We rejected that beginning. We instead chose to gradually change into what we are today. Yes, what we are today, politically, is an embarrassment. But, unlike America, we did not burn our bridges. For Americans, there is no going back beyond the American Rebellion without another bloody rebellion. We, in the Great White North, may have exited through the door on the far left, and we may have closed the door behind us. But we did not throw away the key. Perhaps, one day, we will walk right back through that door.
The following essay is part of Northern Dawn’s Symposium for Canada’s 150th anniversary. The theme is Canada: Who Are We? We hope these studies of Canada’s heritage will inspire readers to consider its future, and the broader civilization of which it is a part. Those who rule must know what they are ruling.
The following essay is by Gerry T. Neal. A self described royalist with a libertarian streak, he writes at Throne, Altar, Liberty.
A country is more than just the territory that falls within its recognized boundaries. It is that territory, but it is also the people who live there, the customs and traditions that shape their way of life, and their social, cultural, religious, and political institutions. Yet if one was to go by the English lyrics of the song that has served as Canada’s official national anthem for thirty-seven years one could be forgiven for thinking that the only thing denoted by the name “Canada” was the large chunk of territory to the north of the United States.
In the first stanza of “O Canada”, which is the only part of the song that most Canadians are familiar with, Canada is identified as “our home and native land” and “the true North, strong and free.” We assert our patriotic love for her and declare that we stand on guard for her, but no further information about her is provided and the only additional information in the subsequent, seldom sung, stanzas, is geographic in nature, such as “Where pines and maples grow; Great prairies spread, and lordly rivers flow.”
John Farthing, in his Freedom Wears a Crown, published posthumously in 1957, made the following appropriate comments:
I sometimes wonder if any other people has ever taken seriously a national song or anthem which says so little as O Canada, and that little all but completely amoral. While thousands of young Canadians were giving their lives in a war to save us and the world from a philosophy of ‘blood and soil’, those Canadians who remained at home were solemnly singing in honour and well-nigh worship of the Canadian soil – without the humanity of any blood. (1)
When Farthing wrote these words, “O Canada” was not yet the official national anthem. It was about ten years later that a Royal Commission appointed by Lester Pearson recommended that “O Canada” be officially declared our national anthem with the status of royal anthem to be given to “God Save the Queen.” At the time “God Save the Queen” was the closest thing to an official anthem we had, with “O Canada” and “The Maple Leaf Forever” in informal competition as our unofficial national anthems.
“The Maple Leaf Forever” was written in 1867 – the year of Confederation – by Alexander Muir and for decades served alongside “God Save the Queen” as Canada’s unofficial national anthem. It was only on the eve of World War II that the English version of “O Canada” became a serious competitor for this status. “The Maple Leaf Forever” was everything that a patriot of the Dominion founded in 1867 could possibly hope for in a national anthem. It speaks, not just of a geographical location, but of Canada’s history, heritage, and national symbols. The chorus asks God’s blessing both upon our Royal Sovereign – echoing the words of Britain’s national anthem – and upon the country itself through her national emblem of the maple leaf. The stanzas make reference to key events in Canada’s pre-Confederation history, from the triumph of General Wolfe at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham to the victories over American invaders at Queenston Heights and Lundy’s Lane in the War of 1812. It is, of course, the very aspects of this song that made it so appealing to the patriot of the old Dominion of Canada that made it unacceptable to the Liberals of the twentieth century.
The only way to make sense out of the actions of the Liberal Party of Canada, which governed Canada for most of the twentieth century, is to recognize that from its beginnings in the nineteenth century, it had set itself up as the opposition, not just to the Conservative Party that had governed Canada for twenty four of her first thirty years, but to the entire project of Confederation as well.
Confederation, beginning with the Charlottetown Conference of 1864 shortly before the end of the American War Between the States, was the process whereby the North American provinces and colonies of the British Empire came together in a federal union to form the new country that would be given the name Canada. Previously, that name had belonged to one or two of the provinces. (2) That Canada envisioned by the Fathers of Confederation, was to be a country that would grow up within the British Empire and attain full nationhood, without severing its ties to Britain or the rest of the Empire – the opposite, in other words, of the United States.
It was to be British in its political institutions – governed by a Parliament based on the Westminster model over which the monarch would reign as Royal Sovereign. It was to be designated a “Dominion”, which was at first a term chosen from the Bible (3) as a substitute for “Kingdom” that would be less offensive to our republican neighbours but which later, as proposals were made to reorganize the British Empire along federal lines, came to take on the meaning of a self-governing country within what would become the British Commonwealth. One of the principal reasons for undertaking this project at this time was the perceived threat of invasion from the United States. This was not an imaginary fear – the United States had invaded what would become Canada in a so-called attempt at “liberation” during the War of 1812 and subsequently, especially around the time of their war with Mexico, her editorialists and statesmen had spoken of their country’s “Manifest Destiny” to rule over all of North America.
The Confederation project was consistent with the history and heritage of both English and French Canadians. The first society to be called Canada was one of the colonies of New France. It was a seigneurial society, with an economy based on agriculture and trade, in which the most powerful institution was the Roman Catholic Church. It was ceded to Great Britain in 1763 at the end of the Seven Years War and eleven years later, in the Quebec Act, King George III guaranteed its right to retain its French language, culture, and civil law and its established Roman Catholicism, in keeping with a promise he had made the French king. This outraged many of the leaders of the Thirteen Colonies, the ideological descendants of the Puritan fanatics who had driven King Charles I from his throne and beheaded him because he would not persecute the co-religionists of his Queen, the French Catholic Henrietta Maria, to the extent they desired. In their inflamed anti-papist fervour and zeal they rebelled against King and Parliament, drawing up an indictment of tyranny in language as lofty as its charges were spurious and its reasoning was fallacious, ensuring that it would live forever in the annals of demagogic propaganda.
Needless to say, a sizeable number of English colonists, saw no reason to go along with this revolting revolution and fought against the rebels on the side of their King. When the rebelling colonies won their independence there was an exodus of Loyalists out of the new republic to the northern territory that remained under British governance, including the Maritime provinces and French-speaking Canada which, understandably, had preferred to remain under the British Crown that protected their language and religion rather than join those who wished to extirpate both from North American soil. Out of these United Empire Loyalists, English Canada was born and in the century between the American Revolution and Confederation, French and English Canadians would fight, alongside the British army, to drive out American invaders bent on their “liberation” at Châteauguay and Crysler’s Farm, Stoney Creek and Beaverdams (4), Queenston Heights and Lundy’s Lane.
In this shared history, in which English-speaking Protestants and French-speaking Catholics remained loyal to the Crown and Empire that protected them both, against the common threat from the south, the foundations of Confederation were laid.
The Liberal Party’s agenda, from the beginning, was one of continentalism and free trade. The Liberals believed that Canada’s future lay in closer economic and political partnership with the United States and they sought to move Canada towards that future, even if doing so meant cutting her off from her past. Initially, they found that their agenda, so contrary to the goals of Confederation, was very difficult to sell to the Canadian electorate. It did not help their case that some of their intellectuals took their agenda to scandalous extremes in print. In 1891, for example, the year in which Sir John A. MacDonald, running on a patriotic platform that appealed to tradition and continuity with the past, won his last election – a landslide victory over Sir Wilfred Laurier’s Liberals who were campaigning for trade reciprocity with the United States – Liberal intellectual Goldwin Smith published his book Canada and the Canadian Question, which argued that there was no point to there being a Canada and that it ought to be annexed by the United States. (5)
Few Liberal intellectuals went as far as Smith, however, and by the early twentieth century the Liberals had become much more successful at winning elections. Although their policies were still such as would move Canada further and further into the orbit of the United States, they began to pitch them in the language of a new nationalism that was the opposite of that of the Fathers of Confederation. Whereas to the latter, Canada’s traditional British identity was indispensable to their project of building a nation and keeping it from being swallowed up by the United States, the Liberals, who saw that identity as the main roadblock standing in the way of their get rich quick scheme of technological progress, modernization, and Americanization, began to attack Canada’s Britishness as the mark of a colonialism that we would need to throw off to truly become a nation.
To promote the new nationalism, Liberal historians began propagating their own version of Canada’s national story. In this version Canada was portrayed as struggling against British imperial power in her efforts to emerge from colonialism and become a nation. This is an obvious substitution of the American national myth – watered down, with independence being achieved by diplomacy rather than revolution – for Canada’s own story. That the Liberal historians were rewriting Canada’s story to fit the American myth was blatantly acknowledged by one of their own, Dr. John Wesley Dafoe, who edited what is now the Winnipeg Free Press (6) for the first half of the twentieth century, in the title he gave his history of Canada: Canada: An American Nation. (7)
The Liberal version of Canada’s history, as its foremost critic Donald Creighton observed years ago, is in complete conflict with the facts – far from standing in the way of Canadian nationhood, Great Britain had supported the Confederation project from the beginning. The opposition to the project, and the only real threat to Canadian nationhood came from the United States – the country to which the Liberals wanted to bring Canada closer. Nevertheless, as the Liberal Party grew more successful in the polls and gained more and more control over Canada’s national agenda, their new interpretation – or, perhaps inversion would be the better word – of Canada’s story, was accepted as Gospel in the schools, the editorial pages, and everywhere else Liberal opinion predominated, so that it soon deserved the sobriquet with which Creighton mocked it “The Authorized Version.”
In this version Confederation, its Fathers, and especially Sir John A. MacDonald were reduced to footnotes and the place of honour that ought to go to the founders of our country, was given instead to Liberal leaders such as William Lyon Mackenzie King and in later, revised, editions of the Authorized Version, to Lester Pearson and Pierre Trudeau – the men most responsible for distancing Canada from her British roots. Mackenzie King is portrayed as the champion of Canada’s domestic sovereignty – despite the fact that his 1926 general election claim of imperial interference from London was a complete fabrication. (8)
During the premierships of Pearson and Trudeau, much of Canada’s traditional national symbolism was revised to eliminate reference to our British heritage – the Red Ensign with the Union Jack in the canton which had served as Canada’s flag informally since Confederation and was awarded official status at the end of World War II, was replaced with the present flag, the designation “Royal” was dropped from the Post Office and several branches of the Armed Forces, and Dominion Day was renamed Canada Day. At the end of his premiership, Pierre Trudeau succeeded in having the power to amend the British North America Act – renamed “The Constitution Act, 1867” – from the British Parliament to Canada’s, and in the eyes of many Liberals this has superseded Confederation as the moment of our country’s birth. It ought to be noted that these men and events, the ones most celebrated in the Liberal account of our country’s story, are the ones who undermined our parliamentary government, concentrated near-dictatorial powers into the Prime Minister’s office, and greatly weakened our heritage of freedom. (9)
It was during and part of these changes that “O Canada” was declared to be our official national anthem in 1980. The English lyrics, written by Robert Stanley Weir in 1908, speak not of Canada’s traditions, history, and heritage but only of her land and her location in the north. Which is fitting, perhaps, because in the Liberal perspective, which has dominated our country for so long, this is all that Canada is. Yet, as with everything else in the Liberal point of view, there is a contradiction here for apart from those aspects of Canadian history that they wish to forget, the land that we call Canada today, would never have been Canada. Apart from the Confederation project, of uniting the provinces of British North America, English Protestant and French Catholic, into a new nation under the Crown, and calling that country Canada, that name would never have been applied to anything but the stretch of land between the St. Lawrence River and the Great Lakes. This tells us that Canada must be something more than a large, northern, chunk of land and to discover what that is, we must look beyond the Liberal Party’s revisions, back to Confederation, and the history leading up to it, and recover the vision of the Fathers.
(1) John Farthing, Judith Robinson ed., Freedom Wears a Crown (Toronto: Kingswood House, 1957) pp. 111-112. The chapter in which this is found is entitled “The Agronomic Anthem”
(2) This wording is not intended to express uncertainty as to the number but rather the fact that the provinces in question, known as Ontario and Quebec since Confederation, prior to 1867 had at times been united in a single province of Canada, at other times separated into Upper and Lower Canada.
(3) Psalm 72:8
(4) Now Thorold, Ontario.
(5) Goldwin Smith, Canada and the Canadian Question (Toronto: Hunter, Rose & Co., 1891)
(6) Then, as now, the newspaper was a mouthpiece for the Liberal party line.
(7) John Wesley Dafoe, Canada: An American Nation (New York: Columbia University Press, 1935)
(8) In his election campaign in 1926, Mackenzie King told the Canadian electorate that the refusal of Lord Byng, the Governor General, to grant him a requested dissolution of Parliament earlier that year was a case of imperial interference in Canadian domestic affairs. This was a lie, as a simple perusal of the correspondence between the two during supposed crisis demonstrates. In his letter of resignation, Mackenzie King reminded the Governor General that he, Mackenzie King, had himself asked Byng to consult London and that he, Byng, had refused to do so. That Byng had acted properly, refusing to grant a dissolution to a government that faced a vote of censure in Parliament, was the argument of Eugene Forsey’s doctoral dissertation “The Royal Power of Dissolution of Parliament in the British Commonwealth” submitted to McGill University in 1941. When an abridged version of this was published as a book by Oxford University Press in 1943, it was denounced by J. W. Dafoe in the Winnipeg Free Press, leading to a war in print between Forsey and Dafoe in which the Liberal historian was soundly trounced. Accounts of this can be found in both Forsey’s memoirs A Life on the Fringe (Toronto: Oxford University Press,1990) pp. 106-108 and Charles Taylor’s Radical Tories: The Conservative Tradition in Canada (Toronto: Anansi, 1982) pp. 107-108.
(9) That Mackenzie King’s victory in 1926, which more or less made it the rule that vice-regal authority must never be exercised except as the Prime Minister advises, essentially turned Crown and Parliament into rubber stamps of the Prime Minister’s office, was the thesis of Farthing’s book which drew upon Forsey’s arguments. John Diefenbaker, in the speeches collected into his book Those Things We Treasure, (Toronto: Macmillan, 1972) observed how the changes Pearson and Trudeau were making were moving Canada towards a republicanism foreign to her heritage which would jeopardize the rights and freedoms grounded in our own tradition of parliamentary monarchy. When Trudeau repatriated the British North America Act, he added the Charter of Rights and Freedoms which, despite its name, actually undermines our traditional Common Law rights and freedoms. See Kenneth McDonald Alexis in Charterland (Belleville: Epic Press: 2004) It also enhanced the powers of the Supreme Court of Canada, basically empowering it to act like the American
The formula for what creates a people is complex. To an extent, unfathomable. The ethnic genetic stock, the land on which it lives, the earlier groups which join together, the religion, the requirements for survival…all this and more creates a unique fingerprint. The Anglosphere is no different; its foundation stock is the global diaspora of settlement and migration which set out at various times from the British Isles. Its culture is uniquely individualist and based on personal trust and drive. Its ancestral religion is the ancient Christian faith as it manifested in the furthest outposts of the post-Roman West.
In The WASP Question, Dr. Andrew Fraser presents a history of this Anglo-British ethnoculture from the migration across the English channel all the way to the modern period. This history makes up the first part of the book, with a focus on the religious aspect of this identity. The Anglo-Saxons were formed and birthed as a Christian people from early on in their history in the Isles, and as such their “baptized” Germanic cultural and political forms play a truly foundational role in the later history of the English. The second and third parts of the book examine the decline of the English people and their world, particularly with the rise of the novus ordo seclorum. Due to the depth of detail, parts II and III will be looked at in a second piece. By way of background, Fraser is a Canadian-born academic who currently resides and works in Australia. After studying constitutional law at Harvard and an MA from the University of North Carolina, he went on to teach American constitutional history in Sydney.
Human biodiversity is important in Fraser’s work: the biological stock of the population is just as fundamental a part of ethnoculture as religion, family structure, the land, and so on. As with all systems, the population both influences and is influenced by these other elements. Therefore, the tendencies exhibited by individuals and the early Anglo-Saxon population becomes expressed over time as cultural norms as a people becomes an increasingly coherent nation. Among the traits of the Anglo-Saxons can be counted a strong individualism; a more nuclear family structure rather than an extended clan; a morality based on individual guilt rather than collective shame. The concept of law is central to Fraser’s conception of English civilization:
Medieval Europe created a legal civilization, nowhere more obviously or successfully than its Anglo-Saxon province. The English, like other Christian peoples, [in the words of Walter Ullmann] “were given their religion, their faith, their dogma, in the shape of a law”.
However, this presence of the law existed side by side with a magical-transcendent underpinning of the old Anglo-Saxon culture in which England finds its roots. Here is where Fraser’s thesis starts to unfold:
My thesis is the social psychology of the Anglo-Saxons evolved in three stages, in a process of “punctuated equilibrium”. The primitive, magicoreligious influences on the social character of the early Anglo-Saxons were suppressed, first, by formal institutions (embryonic states and the Church) that fostered the dominant “tradition-directed character type of medieval England; second, by the development of an “inner-directed” character adapted to the early modern bourgeois market economy; and third, by the emergence of the “other-directed” character type among WASPs in the service of the modern corporate welfare state.
The prelude to this process is the migration of Germanic tribes across the channel. On the continent, they existed in much more collective societies. Collective kin structures played a major role in interaction, particularly in the fued system of justice. If a member of a clan was killed, the clan was involved in a feud with the other man’s kin. The comites (to use Tacitus’ phrase for the “great men” who played leading roles) would elevate one of their number as an overlord amongst themselves. However this role was relatively weak, and depended on the integrity of the kinship structures.
Migration changed this, as those who went across the channel were separated from their larger and established kinship networks. Fraser recounts data that the large contribution of the Anglo-Saxons to the modern English ancestry comes from a small source of only 10-200,000 people, whereas the indigenous population numbered around two million. This implies a breeding advantage for the invaders: logically, powerful Anglo-Saxon leaders would have greater access to both Anglo-Saxon and indigenous British women, while British men would be disadvantaged with British women (and have little chance of mating with Anglo-Saxons). Therefore, many may have chosen to migrate away from the Anglo-Saxon centers. This genetic evidence correlates with the institutional growth of the Anglo-Saxon kingship as a power structure. Where the kinship structures shrank in importance, the kingship took over as a source of order in a necessarily smaller and more individualistic population.
This is the founding era in Fraser’s cycle of English history. Kings and aristocrats dominated national government in Anglo-Saxon England, but the system saw extensive decentralization of the country into shires and tithings, and of the church into parishes. This allowed local British elites to find new places in the system and become integrated into the new order of the Anglo-Saxon polities. Still, the power of the lords grew to the extent that the common site of free peasants or towns seen on the continent became a rarity in England. Yet Fraser also recounts the collective and super-individual nature of law. The law was received and pronounced by kings and lords, but it was received by them as part of an inheritance of the kin. Here we already see the structures that later periods would codify into the idea of “the rule of law”.
However, the law existed alongside a sacral and mythic conception of Kingship. Descended from a god and “heilerfüllt” or hallowed, he allowed godly participation in earthly affairs. Therefore he had a special wisdom when interpreting the received law. However, early in their history the Anglo-Saxons received the Christian faith. British and Irish churches had long existed, but it was the missions of Pope Gregory the Great which in particular were intended to convert these peoples. With much of the English ethnogenesis occurring after their conversion, the English were a people conceived in the womb of Christendom. Their spiritual center was at Canterbury, where the disciples of St. Augustine the missionary established themselves. While the idols were smashed, the sacred altars and groves of the land were sanctified and incorporated into the Christian Anglo-Saxon ritual life.
Anglo-Saxon Christendom lived under a baptized sacral Kingship, where the King was filled with the grace of God and carried responsibility for the spiritual state of his people under Heaven. Fraser details the promotion by the Church of an overlord who could unite the gens Anglorum into a political unity which could manifest their spiritual unity. It should be noted that Her Majesty Elizabeth II still carries as her official Canadian title “Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, Queen of Canada” – a phrase shared by her titles across most of her realms. We can see a spiritual unity carried down from the earliest days of the English ethnogenesis. This sacral conception reached its apex in the reign of King Alfred the Great. King Alfred was first to hold the title of King of the Anglo-Saxons and translated the Venerable Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People. While he never ruled all England, in him all Anglo-Saxons finally had a unified sacred royalty.
In addition to this top-level religious and political history, Fraser spends many sections of the book detailing the legal and constitutional norms of the Anglo-Saxon people at this time. For the reader’s interest, we will touch on the interesting practice of oath-taking. In Fraser’s thesis, oath-taking becomes an important sign of the growing individualism of the Anglo-Saxons compared with their kin-based continental forebears. Oaths existed in the Germanic cultures as bond between kinsman and lords, and men without oath-based relationships to such structures were not only rootless but a social threat. In the Anglo-Saxon social order, we have seen that the power of the kin structure decreased and the power of the lords grew. Thus, an individual’s commitment to his lord grew ever more important as the blood-bonds with kin would not protect him as they had his ancestors. Giving an oath was a spiritual act witnessed by priests and performed over relics or sacred objects (witness our own continued use of Bibles). Breaking an oath threatened the immortal soul, and were taken so seriously that the mere swearing of an oat could sometimes be evidence of innocence of a crime. In a world where action and ritual were often one, King Alfred’s requirement of oaths from his men and advisors gave a spiritual basis to the very administration of the Anglo-Saxon state.
The next stage of Fraser’s thesis sees the ritualization and institutionalization of the magical and religious worldview. This occurs both due to the increased kingly requirements of the Overlord, and the tension between throne and altar. Fraser notes at first that the assent of the William the Conqueror did not immediately replace Anglo-Saxon norms with Norman ones. Upon his ascension, the Conqueror took part in the “charismatic” Kingship which he had usurped. Fraser emphasizes that it was not simply enough for a King to uphold past norms or rule in an administrative way. Rather, the King had to prove his God-given power of rule by his deeds, creating new obligations or precedents. This charism could be lost or successfully challenged (the Conqueror himself being one such successful challenger). From the time of the Conqueror onward, this personal authority gave way to an institutional entity of the Crown distinct from the person of the King. This trend occurred for a number of reasons and would reach its culmination in the Tudor centralization.
Starting in 1075, Pope Gregory VII (the Great) introduced sweeping reforms to the Church intended to solidify the accountability of bishops to the Roman See, which held traditional primacy among the Apostolic sees and was the Patriarchal See of the West. However, this was accompanied by a high view of Papal authority, which Pope Gregory saw as extending into the life of the realm beyond matters of faith or morality. A world which before knew little distinction between spirit and daily life began to encounter the tensions of authority which would ultimately become the familiar concepts of “secular” vs “religious” authority. The 12th century martyrdom of Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, by rogue knights of King Henry II, saw the King forced to formalize a separate domain of powers for the Church. Conversely, the Kings therefore promoted a Divinely-sanctioned political authority distinct from the Church. Yet, as Fraser points out, this was the first step toward an “eventual disenchantment of political authority”.
In addition to this pressure for a distinct authority and existence from the Church, Kings also faced the problem of the “double majesty” which existed in English political life. On the level of the realm, the Kingship – even if assented to by the nobility – was not held to be founded on them, but ultimately on the grace of God. Likewise, the nobility considered their authority to rest upon their own dignity; this same dignity was what his loyalty to his King rested on. However, this meant that the King’s responsibilities to the realm often relied on the personal loyalties of a nobility which did not often act in unison or full agreement. Fraser explains that the King’s duty to uphold a law received but not made by him, and to rule in unison with the “community of the realm”, was a conception that extended back to the pre-Norman cult of St. Edward the Confessor. These norms formed the tradition which directed the character of Kingship in this second period. Yet, they also guaranteed a Royal incentive to increase centralization in order to effectively rule.
The Tudor monarchy was the major force of centralization during this second period. In establishing himself as Supreme Head of the Church of England, King Henry VIII established a sacral as well as a political supremacy for himself. However, Fraser points out an important distinction between the Tudors and their Anglo-Saxon forebears. As we saw, the Anglo-Saxon Kings depended on a sacral power that was bound up in their persons. The Tudors, on the other hand, normalized the concepts of an “institutional” Crown distinct from the person of the King. Thus, a growing administration could act in the name of the Crown without the King’s personal involvement.
Fraser presents Richard Hooker as the best expounder of the tradition-directed character of England at this time. Hooker understood the realm as an organic body politic, where King and commonwealth worked in unison to preserve the customs and laws handed down. Hooker saw himself as defending the ancient English constitution where law and realm were one entity. And yet, Fraser attacks this idea, pointing out that the conception of an institutional inheritance of custom judicially interpreted by King and people was already a far cry from the magical-religious conception of the grace-filled Anglo-Saxon kings who received and interpreted the law under a charism from God. And indeed, this tension between the inviolability of the received customs of the ancient constitution with the royal will of the Crown would open up for the next era of Fraser’s thesis: the inner-directed era.
The mission of an increasing prerogative for the Royal will brought together two names which are not often associated with each other, and indeed would often be assumed to be opposed to one another. The first is the philosopher Thomas Hobbes, and the second is the House of Stuart. Hobbes believed that the royal administration must be centralized in order to rationalize its governance, providing it the opportunity to create a great society guided by reason and empirical inquiry. Hobbes rejected the notion that monarchy could have any Divine basis, and saw its legitimacy as stemming from its ability to bring man out of the brutal “state of nature”. He mocked the sacral conception of authority and those who believed “that there walketh (as some think invisibly) another Kingdome, as it were a Kingdom of Fayries, in the dark.” Likewise, the House of Stuart existed at a time when a classically-influenced tendency to speak of an English commonwealth made up of King, lords, and commons was in ascendancy. Fraser recounts that in 1642, shortly before the civil war, King Charles I was convinced to essentially formalize this philosophy in answers to Parliament. This meant that the Crown’s institutional legitimacy would ever more be based on outcomes rather than either personal charism of rule or reception of the ancient tradition. The break with tradition toward an inner-directed administrative will had begun.
Fraser emphasizes a seemingly contradictory fact of this political struggle: both sides could coherently be described as “traditionalist”. Fraser lays out the crisis:
…the clash was a symptom of a schizophrenic split within English society that set “traditionalist modernizers” against “modernizing traditionalists”. Both royalists and common lawyers were, by definition, traditionalists. James I himself appealed to long standing traditions of biblical authority and Christian theology in suport of the divine right of kings; he also readily acknowledged that he was bound to rule in accordance with the fundamental laws of the realm. But he was also committed to transforming the royal prerogative into an effective instrument of both executive and legislative power. On the other side, the parliamentary opposition routinely invoked the hoary traditions of the common law to defend the property interests that were fuelling the anarchic disorder of an early-modern market economy.
However, for Fraser it is the rise of the Puritan ethos which encapsulates the entry of inner-directed thought into daily and religious life. This occurs during and after the civil war. The inner life of the Puritan was bound up in the relationship between God and the conscience. Having rejected “papist” sacramental theology, the Puritan was in no way assured of God’s grace. This demanded of the believer a continual examination of conscience in accordance with Scripture. The pious man was expected to demonstrate this discipline also through a steadfast devotion to work. Otherwise mundane, work became sanctified because the taking up of it made it a vehicle for the Kingdom of God. In addition to providing personal discipline, it became an outward sign of Godly favour. Yet the Puritan conception was even further removed from the magical-religious worldview than the tradition-directed worldview had been. Concepts like sacraments or charisms were scandalous to the Puritan mind, which lionized reason. Fraser quotes, for example, Milton’s rebuke of the erotic elements of marriage as “the prescribed satisfaction of an irrational heat.”
Ultimately, this third stage allows us to see that the story of the English ethnoculture from the days of Anglo-Saxon establishment up to the era of the Reformation was an increasing disenchantment of the world. Fraser traces this process from the Stuarts through the Puritan and Cromwellian era, through the Glorious Revolution. The Crown moved ever more to an inner-directed, results based legitimacy. By the 18th century and the rise of Robert Walpole as the first Prime Minister, the conservation of the ancient constitution was left to those Tories and a number of Whigs associated with the Country Party. This party of Tories and conservative Whigs, led by the one-time Jacobite Viscount Bolingbroke, saw in Walpole’s centralization the rise of party interests which eroded the unifying force of the ancient constitution. In opposition to this, it defended the powers of local gentry against centralizing administrators, and claimed to speak for the whole country – living and ancestral – against the factions of their day.
However, this moment in history saw a turning point in the history of the English: their expansion to the New World. America would become a land where the remnants of the tradition-directed and magical-religious eras were minimal. The inner-directed nature of the Puritan religion and the market economy would become fundamental to Homo Americanus. The second part of Fraser’s work details its growth. It also posits what a restoration of the English ethnoculture may entail. This will be further examined in the second part of this review.
The WASP Question is available for purchase at Arktos.
This year, our Dominion turns 150. As is expected, the majority of celebrations will be focused on cementing the image of Canada as the land without roots. The post-national state. The multicultural society with no culture its own.
If we stay on this path, there will not be another 150 years. Even now, the official stance is that Canada’s pride is its position in the global liberal order. No reference made to the Loyalist migration, proud and Catholic Quebec, or the mission of Confederation to create an alternative to the republican experiment. Now more than ever, we need to imagine an alternative. We require strong thought and creative re-imagining for the future. We also need to forge a mentality of loyalty to what our forefathers handed down and the courage to rebuild it. Northern Dawn is part of the intellectual aspect of this work.
Therefore, we are pleased to announce that we are accepting submissions for the 1st Northern Dawn Symposium. The theme of this symposium is: Canada: Who Are We?
Background: Northern Dawn has begun to detail a radical rethinking of what Canada represents in the 21st century. Unlike the liberal conception, this vision of Canada is tied into what it represented in 1867, and in 1776. Despite decades of rewritten history, Canada retains an institutional and historical memory of its true mission. At the decisive moment when liberalism usurped the future of American civilization, the Loyalists fled northward to maintain their allegiance. In the person of the King, their loyalty was not only to a government, but to a vision of a monarchic Anglo-American civilization born of Western Christendom. In the decades that followed, the English and French destinies became entwined, culminating their joint membership in the Dominion of Canada.
Purpose: The common theme of this symposium is the recovery of the true Canadian tradition and elaborating how it can inform our future. Themes we are interested in include: pre- and non-liberal political traditions in colonial America, their survival in Canada and preservation in the United States, nationalism and identity, the end of secularism and what comes after, High Tory culture and thought, analysis of the Laurentian elite, and more. Names which inform our approach include George Grant, Charles Taylor, Stephen Leacock, Alasdair MacIntyre, Mencius Moldbug, Peter Hitchens, Sam Francis, and Ron Dart.
- A wide variety of themes are acceptable (history, philosophy, culture, religion, aesthetics, etc). However, essays must have in mind the common theme of Northern Dawn: the traditions inherited by North America as a part of Western European Christendom, and Canada as the rightful bearer of these traditions after the liberal door opened by 1776.
- Politically-focused essays must take a historical or future-oriented view. We are not looking for commentary on the current 48-hour cycle of news.
- We are more interested in quality of content than a word count, but we would suggest 1500-3000 words as a minimum and maximum.
- Northern Dawn reserves the right to request edits or reject submissions.
Current works in progress include reflections on Charles Taylor, media power as a legitimate state concern, and a reflection High Tory influence in Canadian fiction.
We look forward to more. Please submit essays to: email@example.com
In Canada, one is hard-pressed to conceive of any form of nationalism that is not royalist to the core. Likewise, we ought not be surprised that those who seek to erase Canada’s ethnic foundations and political heritage also seek the destruction of its monarchic foundation. Yet for many Canadian defenders of the monarchy, arguments in its defence will fall back on cultural attachment, or perhaps personal admiration of Her Majesty. While these are unquestionably healthy sentiments, it is vital to understand the power of our monarchy as an incarnation of the realm, a symbol of those forces which have shaped our civilization. The monarchy is at once the state’s foundation stone, compass, and embodiment. As an institution it bears institutional, ethnocultural, and spiritual power.