An important lesson from history is that people living in relatively stable and functional societies seldom understand how rapidly things can deteriorate and plunge into catastrophe, violence, and mass murder.
A real-life individual named Savva Morozov (1862–1905) was one of the wealthiest men in pre-revolutionary Russia.
He was a textile magnate, a patron of the arts, and a genuine philanthropist. His Moscow mansion was said to be the most expensive in the city. He and his wife, Zinaida, hosted famous writers, composers, and scientists. Morozov also worked to improve conditions for workers in his factories. He gave pregnant women paid leave. He funded scholarships for students. He built a hospital and a theater for his workers. He pushed for constitutional reform: freedom of the press, freedom of association, workers’ rights to organize and strike, and public oversight of the state budget.
Morozov also bankrolled the Bolsheviks.
Reports from this period suggest he gave hundreds of thousands of rubles to the revolutionary cause. He personally financed an underground newspaper of the banned social-democratic party that would eventually become the Russian Communist Party.
Morozov’s goal was almost certainly not to ignite a civil war or hand power to a dictatorship. He likely saw the radicals as useful pressure on the tsar, a way to force real reforms from a regime that would not move on its own.
When revolution came in January 1905, the violence shocked him.
He had set forces in motion that he could not control.
He suffered a nervous breakdown and fell into depression. His doctors and family sent him to the French Riviera to recover. He checked into a hotel in Cannes. There, he apparently shot himself, though rumors persisted for years that he had been murdered and the suicide had been staged.
His wife Zinaida returned to Russia and continued living off the enormous fortune her husband had left behind. Then came 1917. The Bolsheviks seized everything. She survived by selling off the few pieces of jewelry she had managed to keep.
The lavish country estate she and her husband owned later became the personal residence of Vladimir Lenin, leader of the communist revolution. Today it is a museum called Lenin’s Gorki, filled with the possessions and mementos of the first leader of the Soviet Union.
In his book End Times: Elites, Counter-Elites and the Path of Political Disintegration, Peter Turchin points out that in most cases of societal collapse and state breakdown, “the overwhelming majority of precrisis elites … were clueless about the catastrophe that was about to engulf them. They shook the foundations of the state and then were surprised when the state crumbled.”
Rob Henderson, “Dark Shadows Fall, One Upon The Other”, Rob Henderson’s Newsletter, 2026-03-22.
July 15, 2026
July 4, 2026
QotD: “Yankee Doodle”
[…]
Which is how we ended up with a patriotic standard that is also a death threat, a sodomy joke, a farm boy’s account of watching grown men handle their enormous guns with mounting enthusiasm, and the song we teach five year olds at Fourth of July parades. All of this has been inside the song the whole time. I want to walk through what is actually in there, because once you can see it you cannot stop seeing it, and I think we owe the song more than we have been giving it.
Start with the title, because the title is already doing two things at once. “Yankee” is almost certainly from the Dutch Janke, a diminutive Dutch settlers in New York used to mock their English neighbors. The British army picked it up as convenient shorthand for a provincial American. A rube. A man of no consequence. “Doodle” meant fool, from the German dudel, and this is the part that makes it into the elementary school music program. The part that does not is that “doodle” was also eighteenth-century British slang for a penis. Both meanings were in active circulation. Neither was obscure. When the British handed this song to their regulars as a marching tune intended to demoralize the enemy, they were calling the colonists provincial idiots and, on a second pass, Yankee dicks. The American troops heard the title and, in the great tradition of men who have already stopped caring what anyone thinks of them, said yes, that one, put it on the flag.
The first thing the song was is a threat.
Yankee Doodle’s come to town / For to buy a firelock / We will tar and feather him / And so will we John Hancock.
British soldiers were singing verses like this one in the run-up to Lexington. Tar and feathering was not a prank. It was a ritual. Men were stripped, had boiling pine tar poured directly onto bare skin, rolled in feathers while the tar was still cooling, and paraded through town as public spectacle. The skin came off with the tar. Some victims died in the days that followed from shock and from infections in the raw flesh. The British soldiers are singing about doing this to a specifically named man. John Hancock. The wealthiest man in Boston, already on London’s list for arrest. “So will we John Hancock” uses his name as a verb. We will do this to him. We will use his body to make a point.
The soldiers singing this were on their way to arrest him. They missed. Hancock got through Lexington, made it to Philadelphia, and in the summer of the following year signed the Declaration of Independence in letters so large that his name became, in English, the common noun for a signature. The verb became the noun. We will destroy you publicly became I was here, I did this, come and get me. The song that had been a mob-violence threat against a living dissident was now, a year later, being sung by the men who had saved him as they mustered for the same war. The target of the verse became the architect of the country that kept the verse. This is the first transformation the song undergoes and it is not subtle. It is also not the last.
The second thing the song is is a sodomy panic. He stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni. Every American schoolchild has been told this means the colonist was too stupid to know what fashion was. That is the sanitized reading. The full reading requires understanding what the Macaroni Club was. Young English aristocrats came back from the Grand Tour in Italy wearing wigs so tall they required structural adjustment to pass under a doorframe, corseted coats, embroidered slippers, and Continental affectations so pronounced the London press began printing caricatures of them within the year. “Macaroni” meant dandy, in the same dictionary-accurate way “doodle” meant fool. Technically correct. Missing the entire point.
The point is that the Macaroni Club had become, by the 1770s, a convenient public container for British anxieties about male effeminacy, foreign moral contamination, and sodomy. The caricatures drew them in pinched silhouettes and muffs, in poses the London audience was supposed to read as unmistakably queer. The courts were not caricaturing. They were prosecuting. Men were pilloried. Others were executed. The word “macaroni” was carrying the weight of active criminal cases at the exact moment “Yankee Doodle” was being composed. A British army surgeon named Richard Shuckburgh is the likely author of the most famous macaroni verse, and what he wrote was a joke with a second floor. On the ground floor: the colonial rube does not know what high fashion is and mistakes a single feather for an entire wardrobe. On the second floor: the colonial rube has just put on the signifier of a group of men the British state is currently prosecuting for sodomy, and he does not realize what he has announced himself as. He is a joke to the troops singing the song, and the joke is that he is queer and does not know it.
The colonists heard all of this and kept the song anyway. The British were banking on a shame that had already dissolved. You cannot humiliate a people that has stopped needing your approval. The song arrived as an instrument of British contempt, and the colonists adopted it anyway, and from that moment on it stopped being a British song and started being something else. A vessel. Whatever the singer needed it to carry, the song carried. That is the reclamation, and it is also the engine of everything that happens to the song from here.
Emma, “Yankee Doodle, Undressed”, Past Life, Present Cleavage, 2026-04-22.
June 9, 2026
Confucian deference to authority and tradition lead to autocracy and rebellion, time after time
Chinese history is not one of my areas of interest, so I have not read deeply in any specific area. Lorenzo Warby, on the other hand, has a much better grasp of the sweep of historical events in China and some of the philosophical and cultural elements that persist through the centuries:
All political and social philosophies rest, implicitly or explicitly, on some claims or claims about the nature of humans.
Consider the thought of Kong Qiu (c.551 BC – c. 479 BC), known as Kǒngfūzǐ (孔夫子) (Great Master or Wise Teacher Kong), hence Confucius. He held that human nature is naturally good and that it is therefore a reasonable aspiration to create a society of harmony, a society without conflict, if everyone just behaves with the propriety appropriate to their place in society — in particular, according to their placement in the web of social connections. His constant concern for the rites (li 禮) is for people to show the correct forms of, and orientation towards, those socially embedded interactions.
This leads very naturally to a very authoritarian, hierarchical view of politics as enforcing social harmony, particularly as people vary in their willingness and capacity to cultivate such virtuous propriety. The notion that politics is legitimately an arena for bargaining between competing interests — the Western idea of “normal politics” — becomes not a natural way to do politics, but a failure to achieve proper harmony.
Master Kong developed his ideas — that were further developed by disciples and commentators — in a civilisation with no tradition of warrior assemblies, self-governing cities, or deliberative assemblies of any kind. A ruler’s court is a place where officials report, and may even debate, but the ruler decides. You can see this narrow view of politics in comments by Master Kong in the Analects such as:
8.14 The Master said, “If you don’t have a particular [government] position, then don’t meddle with any of its business.”
14.26 The Master said, “If you don’t have a particular [government] position, then don’t meddle with any of its business.” Master Zeng [Zengzi] commented, “The gentleman does not allow his thoughts to go beyond what his position calls for.”
In such a political culture, judicious quotes based on mastery of a shared literature become a way of communicating to superiors while giving minimum offence. Conversely, political rhetoric has little or no value, because there are not the deliberative assemblies to be swayed by argument. Master Kong deprecated glib persuasiveness, on the grounds that it tended to hide one’s real character (or lack thereof).
Where command-and-control hierarchy is the dominant method of political action, hoping for propriety to pervade the hierarchy has obvious resonance. Putting such propriety as a mechanism for social harmony is a way to, ironically enough, be persuasive — which requires a positive view of human nature. But it also hugely elevates the moral claims of governorship. Hence comments such as:
2.1 The Master said, “To rule by virtue is like the way the North Star rules, standing in its place with all the other stars revolving around it and paying court to it.”
12.17 Ji Kangzi asked about the way of governing [zheng]. Confucius replied, “To govern [zheng] is to correct [zheng]. When you set an example by correcting your mistakes, who will dare not to correct his mistakes?”
This concern for harmonious propriety is not a world away from ibn Khaldun‘s concern for asabiyya. Nor is it so far from recognising the importance of a coherent civic culture in order to maintain robust institutions, which rest on norms and rules. This is a factor that much of mainstream Economics fails to seriously grapple with, leading to incompetent analysis of immigration.
The problem is that this cultural and institutional framework turns the thought of Master Kong, his disciples and commentators, into what is, in effect, one-trick moral propriety politics, however sophisticated other aspects of this tradition may be. The choices of governance are narrowed down to punishment and example:
2.3 The Master said, “If you guide the people with ordinances and statutes and keep them in line with [threats of] punishment, they will try to stay out of trouble but will have no sense of shame. If you guide them with exemplary virtue [de] and keep them in line with the practice of the rites [li], they will have a sense of shame and will know to reform themselves.”
They are reduced to trying to make autocratic command-and-control politics work as a successful long-term project: as the repeated dynastic collapses in Chinese history show, they did not succeed. Indeed, the recurring pattern of Chinese political reformers and reform programs ending badly reflects that such fail to break out of that autocratic command-and-control pattern, so end up being swallowed by its incentive structures — including the long-term pathologies of bureaucracy and the inherent fears of autocrats.
The most thorough attempt to implement ideas based on rú (儒) classicism (“Confucianism”) in Chinese history was the disastrous reign of Wang Meng (r.9-23), who provides an object lesson in overweening Theory leading to disastrous policies. Ironically, Master Kong himself was against such grand theorising:
9.4 The Master stayed away from four things: he did not put forth theories or conjectures; he did not think that he must be right; he was not obdurate; he was not self-centered.
The episode is a particularly disastrous example of Etienne Gilson‘s principle that the conclusions of the master are the premises of the disciple, thereby all too readily reducing struggles with complexity to a simplifying dogmatism: a trap that scholarly commentary on The Analects often tried to avoid.
The thought of Master Kong also wanders very close to someone is morally better, not only because learned, but because smart and learned. For instance:
5.9 The Master said to Zigong, “Who is the better man, you or Hui [Yan Hui]?” Zigong replied, “How dare I compare myself with Hui? Having learned one thing, he gives play to ten, while I go only as far as two.” The Master said, “You are not as good as he is. Neither of us is as good as he is.”
This arrogance of the appropriately credentialed periodically led to mass outbreaks of infuriated peasants removing educated heads from elite bodies. The most recent manifestations of this were the Cultural Revolution in China and the megacidal Cambodian horrors under Pol Pot but you can see versions of this reaching back into Chinese history — for example, the massacres by Huang Chao’s rebellion (874-884) towards the end of the Tang dynasty (618-907) and the earlier peasant revolts that brought down Wang Meng.
We can also see the same self-righteous exploitive arrogance of those credentialed with “morally proper knowledge” afflicting contemporary Western societies along with bureaucratic pathologies that have also been a feature of Chinese history — remembering that we Westerners copied the Chinese pattern of bureaucratic selection through examination without considering the long-term patterns of Chinese history. Fortunately, national populism generates a less violent outlet for popular frustrations than Chinese peasant revolts.
Update, 10 June: Welcome, Instapundit readers! Have a look around at some of my other posts you may find of interest. I send out a daily summary of posts here through my Substack – https://substack.com/@nicholasrusson that you can subscribe to if you’d like to be informed of new posts in the future.
June 1, 2026
America before the Constitution
In The Critic, Clement Knox discusses how the newly independent United States of America were governed — or not governed — under the pre-Constitution arrangements:
Declaration of Independence by John Turnbull (1756-1843), showing the Committee of Five (Adams, Livingston, Sherman, Jefferson, and Franklin) presenting their draft of the Declaration of Independence to the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia on 28 June, 1776.
Public domain image via Wikimedia Commons.
The historian James Breck Perkins once observed that the Declaration of Independence was French and the Constitution was English. One was a coup de folie — all Gallic bombast and improvisation — the other a coolly logical exercise in state construction.
Often overlooked is that these documents came into effect thirteen years apart. And the story of how the Americans went from the Declaration to the Constitution, from France to England, over the course of those years is filled with lessons for the present.
This year is the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, signed in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776. It is also the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the Articles of Confederation, which were commissioned at the same time as the Declaration but enjoy none of its renown. This is odd, as the Articles were the founding governmental structure of the United States, the system intended to effectuate the high-flown principles of the Declaration, and did so for over a decade until they were replaced by the Constitution in 1789.
The reason nobody talks about the Articles is because they were disastrous. Under them the United States government had a single legislative branch, congress, whose presiding officer was also the head of the executive branch. There was no federal judiciary. Neither congress nor its president had any real powers. Congress could not actually raise money. It could only “request” funds from the states — requests which were typically ignored. Congress also had no power over the regulation of commerce which meant that states could and did broker trade deals with foreign powers and impose taxes on the trade of their neighbouring states. Moreover, this hapless system could not be reformed as the articles required unanimity among the states to make even minor changes to them.
The regime imposed by the articles brought the nation to its knees. “The existing Confederacy is tottering to its foundation,” James Madison said in 1787, and few would mourn its passing as it “neither has nor deserves advocates.” “No money is paid into the public treasury,” he continued, “No respect is paid to the federal authority … It is not possible that a government can last long under these circumstances.” His pessimism was shared by George Washington who feared that “without some alteration in our political creed, the superstructure we have been seven years raising … must fall. We are fast verging to anarchy and confusion.”
Not prepared to allow the legacy of 1776 to be national ruin, Madison did something extraordinary: he moved to replace a failing regime with a functioning one. In 1786 he organised a convention in Philadelphia with the loosely-defined purpose of “revising” certain elements of the Articles. Once the convention was in session Madison revealed his true purpose. He did not want to revise the Articles but replace it with a constitution of his own composition.
The story of Madison’s high-stakes political gambit and how it played out in the years between the Philadelphia convention and the adoption of the constitution in 1789 is told in The Framers’ Coup by Michael J. Klarman. A professor at Harvard Law School, Klarman has written not just the seminal account of America’s founding but a classic account of how peaceful regime change can occur.
May 26, 2026
Gingerbread for Washington’s Army
Tasting History with Max Miller
Published 2 Dec 2025Beautifully spiced gingerbread cookies formed in a sea goat mold
City/Region: England | Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Time Period: 1773Christopher Ludwick was a true hero of the American Revolution. A German immigrant, he made his fortune in part by baking gingerbread in Philadelphia, and then used his baking knowledge, patriotic spirit, and all of his fortune to aid the American cause.
These gingerbread cookies are not as gingery as many modern ones, but the addition of mace, coriander seeds, and caraway seeds makes for a complex spiciness that is delicious. If you have gingerbread molds, these are a great time to use them, and if you don’t, they’re still delicious as cut-out cookies.
To Make Ginger-bread
Take a pound and a half of treacle, two eggs beaten, half a pound of brown sugar, an ounce of ginger beaten and sifted; of cloves, mace, and nutmegs all together half an ounce, beaten very fine, coriander-seeds and carraway-seeds of each half an ounce, two pounds of butter melted; mix all these together, with as much flour as will knead it into a pretty stiff paste; then roll it out, and cut it into what forms you please; bake it in a quick oven on tin plates; a little time will bake it.
— The Universal Cook or, the Lady’s Complete Assistant by John Townshend, 1773
QotD: Entropy versus Revolution
They’re simply nihilists, and their nihilism is just a way station to suicide. Their “program”, such as it is, aims at absolute stasis — they want everyone and everything to be exactly one thing, now and forever, because this is the closest to annihilation they can get without being forced to admit to themselves that what they’re really longing for is the sweet release of death. The purpose of all those bespoke sexualities, for instance, clearly isn’t “to find a likeminded person to have sex with”; rather, it’s to make sure you can never have sex with anyone at all.
Ooops, sorry, you only fulfill 459 of the 462 bullet points on the checklist.
Which is weird, I realize, because the “Left” (for rhetorical convenience) are always in frantic motion. But it’s displacement activity. As I’ve written before, you can call it “permanent revolution”, but it’s Isaac Newton’s version, not Leon Trotsky’s — forever spinning in place, going nowhere. So long as they never stop spinning, they’ll never hear the vast emptiness of their own lives. They’ll never have to look their death wish straight in the eye.
The “Right” (again for rhetorical convenience) seems to be locked in a never-ending battle against entropy. That’s what it seems to boil down to. Things fall apart and pass away, and in their breakdown we are robbed of our fundamental dignity. In the end, that’s the only thing worth “conserving” — your fundamental dignity; the only “right” that matters is the right not to be a clown.
One always loses the battle against entropy eventually, but the dignity is in the fight. For the “left”, who have no dignity, the fight is just a distraction, sound and fury to distract from the nothingness that always threatens to overwhelm them … and that they secretly long for.
Severian, “Entropy vs. Revolution”, Founding Questions, 2022-06-21.
April 2, 2026
The persistent wish to “seize the means of production”
On the social media site formerly known as Twitter, The Rational Animal explains why the din of progressives demanding that “the rich” be dispossessed of their property always leads to the worst kind of results:
This perfectly captures the parasite’s delusion: that wealth is static loot to be seized and redistributed.
Here’s what actually happens when you “repossess all their stuff”:
The producers will rebuild. They’ll create new wealth because that’s what they do. They identify opportunities, solve problems, innovate, build businesses, and generate value. Their wealth came from their minds, not magic.
The looters will consume what they stole at light speed and wind up with nothing. Because they never learned to produce. They only know how to take.
Look at every socialist revolution in history: seize the factories, the farms, the businesses. Within years, everything collapses. The factories stop producing. The farms stop yielding. The wealth evaporates. Venezuela. Cuba. Soviet Union. Zimbabwe. The pattern is identical.
Why? Because wealth isn’t stuff sitting in a vault. Wealth is the ongoing process of human intelligence applied to production. Confiscate a factory and you get the building. You don’t get the knowledge, vision, and competence that made it productive.
The “rich” you want to loot aren’t dragons hoarding gold. They’re producers creating value. Rob them and you rob everyone, including yourself.
You’ll be left with ruins and still blame capitalism.
Update: Fixed missing URL.
March 26, 2026
An alternative reading of the American Revolution
As the majority of my current readers are Americans (or Chinese folks using VPNs to pretend to be Americans), the following could be interpreted as clickbait. Just sayin’.
Upper Canadian Cavalier suggests that the events leading up to the Anglo-Colonial unpleasantness of 1776 onwards have been subject to a preferred reading that tidies up all the inconvenient details and sweeps them under the rug of a revolution against “royal tyranny” (even though HRM King George III was much more liberal than he’s ever given credit for, and a revolution against “an elected Parliament” doesn’t have the right ring to it):
Declaration of Independence by John Turnbull (1756-1843), showing the Committee of Five (Adams, Livingston, Sherman, Jefferson, and Franklin) presenting their draft of the Declaration of Independence to the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia on 28 June, 1776.
Public domain image via Wikimedia Commons.
The American founding narrative is a document produced by a litigation class to justify actions already taken. Its authors were not philosophers who became rebels. They were rebels who hired philosophers.
This is not a fringe position. It is not the invention of bitter foreigners or tenured radicals looking to dismantle something they never understood. It is the conclusion you reach when you put down the mythology and pick up the actual historical record, the ledgers, the court documents, the correspondence that was never meant to be read by posterity, the testimony of people who were there and whose version of events was systematically buried because they were on the losing side. The American Revolution is the most comprehensively mythologized event in the history of the English-speaking world, and the mythologizing began before the gunpowder had cleared.
Start with the money, because it almost always starts with the money. The Navigation Acts, which colonial propagandists framed as instruments of imperial oppression, were a trade regulatory system that had been in place for over a century and under which the colonies had grown from scattered coastal settlements into some of the most prosperous communities in the Atlantic world. The specific enforcement measures that triggered the revolutionary crisis came after the Seven Years War, a conflict in which Britain spent the modern equivalent of billions of pounds defending the American colonies against French and indigenous pressure across an entire continent. When the war ended in 1763, the British national debt had nearly doubled. Parliament looked at the colonies, looked at the bill, and suggested with what strikes any disinterested observer as elementary reasonableness that the people who had benefited most from the war might contribute something toward its cost.
The Stamp Act of 1765 taxed legal documents, newspapers, and pamphlets at rates that were substantially lower than what ordinary subjects in Britain were already paying. The Townshend Acts taxed glass, paint, paper, and tea, luxury goods, not necessities. At their peak, the total tax burden on the American colonies amounted to roughly one shilling per person per year. The average British subject at home was paying twenty-six shillings. The colonial merchant class, which had grown fat on a century of salutary neglect and profitable smuggling, responded to this modest request for contribution with riots, the formation of extralegal enforcement committees, the physical destruction of property, and the systematic intimidation of anyone who disagreed. They called this liberty.
John Hancock, whose signature on the Declaration of Independence is so oversized that his name became a synonym for a signature, was the wealthiest smuggler in colonial America. His fortune was built on molasses, wine, and dry goods moved outside the official imperial trade system at substantial profit. In 1768, British customs officials seized his sloop Liberty on evidence of wine smuggling. The seizure triggered a riot. The customs commissioners were driven from Boston under threat of violence and had to take refuge on a Royal Navy vessel in the harbor. Hancock was prosecuted and represented by John Adams, who got the charges dropped on procedural grounds. The same John Adams who would later write the Massachusetts Constitution. The same John Adams who, when asked to describe his greatest service to his country, cited his defense of the British soldiers at the Boston Massacre trial. These relationships are not incidental. They are the operating structure of the revolutionary movement.
The Boston Massacre has been taught to American schoolchildren for two hundred and fifty years as evidence of British brutality. Here is what actually happened. On the evening of March 5, 1770, a small detachment of British soldiers posted outside the Custom House was surrounded by a crowd estimated at several hundred people, who pelted them with ice, rocks, oyster shells, and pieces of coal, struck them with clubs and sticks, and screamed at them to fire, daring them repeatedly to shoot. Private Hugh Montgomery was knocked to the ground by a club blow. When he recovered he fired. The other soldiers, believing an order had been given, fired as well. Five people died. It was a tragedy. What happened next is the part that gets edited out of the curriculum. John Adams, cousin of the great agitator Samuel Adams, agreed to defend the soldiers and did so brilliantly. Six of the eight soldiers were acquitted outright. The remaining two were convicted of manslaughter rather than murder and were released after being branded on the thumb, the standard punishment. The jury found that the crowd had been the aggressor. Adams later wrote that the case was one of the best pieces of service he ever rendered his country, by which he meant he had established a legal record that contradicted the propaganda his cousin was already distributing. The propaganda survived. The verdict did not make it into the textbooks.
Samuel Adams, the moral conscience of the Revolution, the man who could manufacture outrage from raw air, had a financial history that his hagiographers handle with extraordinary delicacy. He had inherited his father’s malting business and run it into insolvency. He had then served as a tax collector for the town of Boston and accumulated a personal shortfall of several thousand pounds, money he had collected and failed to remit, that the town had been attempting to recover from him through legal action for years. He was an active defendant in debt proceedings during the very period when he was organizing the Sons of Liberty and writing pamphlets about the tyranny of arbitrary taxation. The Revolution did not merely advance Samuel Adams’s political philosophy. It made his financial problems disappear. When you understand this, his extraordinary energy in the cause of independence begins to look less like principle and more like survival.
March 1, 2026
The American Revolutionaries – when you don’t want a king, but you do want someone king-ish
On Substack Notes, John Carter shared this post by Theophilus Chilton, saying:
Fascinating. The American founders were explicitly trying to revive a stronger form of monarchical executive authority with the presidency, as a deliberate corrective to the relatively powerless Crown of the British Constitution, which had been effectively neutered by the doctrine of parliamentary supremacy.
Along similar lines, the American Bill of Rights was in most ways simply a restatement of the ancient rights of Englishmen.
So, of course, I had to go read the post:
Too “kingly” but also not “kingly” enough for America’s Founding Fathers.
King George III in his Coronation robes.
Oil painting by Allan Ramsay (1713-1784) circa 1761-1762. From the Royal Collection (RCIN 405307) via Wikimedia Commons.
Recently, I’ve been reading an interesting book about 18th century political philosophy entitled The Royalist Revolution: Monarchy and the American Founding. In this work the author, Eric Nelson, guides the reader through the various aspects of the great inter-whiggish debates that roiled the American colonies prior to independence, and which then continued afterwards. One of the main premises is that a major faction within this debate — and indeed the one which ended up prevailing in the end — understood the relationship between colonies and mother country to be founded upon the king of Britain’s personal proprietorship over the colonies. This Patriot position was opposed by the Loyalist position which saw the colonies as existing under the laws and rule of Parliament.
Now this might seem strange to generations of Americans who grew up learning in school that the American revolutionaries fought against the great tyrant King George III who was set upon grinding the American colonies under his bootheel of oppression. That view would be quite surprising to many of the participants on the Patriot side, many of whom actually appealed to King George, both publicly and in private correspondence, to exercise kingly prerogative and overturn the various duties, laws, and taxes which Parliament had laid upon the colonies. This, indeed, was the crux of the Patriot argument, which is that because the colonies were originally founded under the personal demesne of the British King, they remained so even despite the temporary abolishment of the monarchy after the execution of Charles I in 1649. In the interregnum between that and the Glorious Revolution and restoration of a stable monarchy that was accepted by all classes as legitimate in 1688, Parliament had illegitimately usurped authority over the colonies. Because it was Parliament which was laying the Intolerable Acts and all the other complaints which the Americans had, it was Parliament against whom they wished to be protected.
But these Patriots were pining after a situation which no longer existed. In point of fact, the British kings since the Glorious Revolution had left whatever prerogative powers they might still have had unused. So it was with George III, who rejected the American colonists’ calls for him to intervene, knowing that doing so would have provoked a constitutional crisis in Britain which he would not have won. As a result, the American colonists chose to make their final break with the British monarchy and throw in their lot for independence, buttressed by Thomas Paine’s fleetingly persuasive but ultimately ineffectual pamphlet Common Sense.
However, after independence, the colonists were faced with providing their own governance. Initially, this was attempted under the Articles of Confederation, as well as their state constitutions, all of which were very whiggish in principle. They were also inadequate to the task. As every student who took high school civics knows, the solution to this was the Constitution of 1789.
Typically, students are taught that the new Constitution was designed to strengthen the ability of the federal government to handle the various issues that applied to the confederation of states as a whole. What we don’t generally hear, however, is that much of this included strengthening the roles and powers of the president to include several areas of prerogative powers which exceeded even the powers then available to the kings of Britain. The stock view of the Constitution is that it “was created to prevent anyone from getting too much power!” The actuality is that the Constitution was crafted, in part, to expand presidential power and create what was viewed at the time as a literally monarchical chief executive. Opponents of this described the proposed executive as “the foetus of monarchy”. Supporters often defended it on the basis that parliaments and congresses, if left unchecked by a strong executive whose interest was drawn from the body of the whole people, would themselves become the greatest threats to the liberties of the people.
The Founders who proposed this enhancement of the executive didn’t do this in a vacuum. Indeed, they had a century and a half of history about this very subject to draw from first-hand. Fresh in the collective mind of every Englishmen, both in the home country and in the colonies, were the English Civil Wars of the previous century. Beginning with the revolt of the parliamentarian army in 1642 through the regicide of Charles I in 1649, the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, the attempted restoration of the House of Stuart under James II, until the final deposition of James and his replacement with William, Prince of Orange in the Glorious Revolution of 1688, Englishmen had a long series of examples from which to draw various conclusions.
So yes, they could see the parliamentarian excesses that took place during the Protectorate. Current in the collective national mind were the overreaches (whether real or imagined) of Parliament both during the interregnum and in the century since the acquisition of the throne by the House of Hanover. As noted above, among these overreaches, at least as viewed by many in the American colonies, was parliamentary interference in the affairs of the colonies, viewed as transgressions into the rightful domain of the king’s purview. Hence, by a strange twist, the Loyalists who opposed American independence before and during the Revolution were generally the more whiggish of the two sides, throwing in their lot with the parliamentary oligarchies. The Patriots, on the other hand, were desperately trying to get the king to reassert his royal prerogatives and intervene by reasserting his perceived rights to directly rule the colonies, something of a modified “high/low vs. the middle” type of scenario.
January 25, 2026
QotD: Dostoevsky’s views on revolutionaries in Demons
Does that seem unrealistic? That ringleader was actually based on a real life student revolutionary named Sergey Nechayev, whose trial Dostoevsky eagerly followed. Nechayev wrote a manifesto called The Catechism of a Revolutionary, here’s an excerpt from that charming document:
The revolutionary is a doomed man. He has no personal interests, no business affairs, no emotions, no attachments, no property, and no name. Everything in him is wholly absorbed in the single thought and the single passion for revolution … The revolutionary despises all doctrines and refuses to accept the mundane sciences, leaving them for future generations. He knows only one science: the science of destruction … The object is perpetually the same: the surest and quickest way of destroying the whole filthy order … For him, there exists only one pleasure, one consolation, one reward, one satisfaction – the success of the revolution. Night and day he must have but one thought, one aim – merciless destruction.
The ideas don’t matter, because at the end of the day they’re pretexts for desires — the desire to dominate, the desire to obliterate the world, the desire to obliterate the self, the desire to negate.3 Just as in their parents’ generation the desire for status came first and wrapped itself in liberal politics in order to reproduce and advance itself, so in their children the desire for blood and death reigns supreme, and the radical politics serve only as a mechanism of self-justification and a lever to pull. This is not a novel about people, and it’s also not a novel about ideas. It’s a novel about desires, motives, urges, and the ways in which we construct stories to make sense of them.
John Psmith, “REVIEW: Demons, by Fyodor Dostoevsky”, Mr. and Mrs. Psmith’s Bookshelf, 2023-07-17.
- To Dostoevsky’s own surprise, when he wrote the main bad guy of the story, he turned out a very funny, almost buffoonish figure. He may be the most evil person in literature who’s also almost totally comic.
- Dostoevsky is notorious for dropping hints via the names of his characters — applied nominative determinism — and this one’s name means something like “supremacy”.
- Or as another famous book about demons once put it:
I am the spirit that negates
And rightly so, for all that comes to be
Deserves to perish wretchedly;
‘Twere better nothing would begin.
Thus everything that your terms, sin,
Destruction, evil represent —
That is my proper element.
January 22, 2026
QotD: Higher education
No; I came to the conclusion that the cause of the revolutionary guerrilla movements was the expansion of tertiary education in countries where it had not long before been the province only of the elite, largely, though never entirely, hereditary. (For the poor, gifted, and ambitious, the army was the route to social ascension.)
Tertiary education, however, was expanded with comparative suddenness. Before it was expanded, those who had it, being few, were more or less guaranteed important roles in the economy and government. They had already drawn a winning ticket in the lottery of life. Not surprisingly, a false syllogism insinuated itself into the minds of the newly educated: If the rich were educated and important, then being educated would make you rich and important. Again not surprisingly, this turned out not to be the case. If you turn out thousands of lawyers, for example, the remuneration of their work, if they find any, will be reduced and they will be disappointed in their hopes and expectations. They become angry, bitter, and disaffected, believing themselves not to be valued at their inestimable worth. They and their ilk became the middle ranks of the guerrillas (the very uppermost reaches being filled mainly by the narcissistic, spoiled sprigs of the upper classes). Only revolution would acquire for them the positions of influence and importance to which they felt that their education entitled them, and which such education had always entitled people to in the past.
Is it possible that Latin America was not so much in the rear as in the forefront of this modern social development (the case of Sendero Luminoso, the Shining Path of Peru, was a pure culture of this phenomenon)? Is it not possible that we in our societies have duped tens of millions of young people into believing that the prolongation of their formal education would lead them inexorably into the sunny uplands of power, importance, wealth, and influence, when in fact many a PhD finds himself obliged to do work that he could have done when he was 16? No one likes to think that he has been duped, however (it takes two for fraud to be committed, after all), so he looks around for some other cause of his bitter disappointment. It isn’t ignoramuses who are pulling down the statues, but ignoramuses who think that they have been educated.
Theodore Dalrymple, “Bees With Degrees”, Taki’s Magazine, 2020-07-02.
Update, 24 January: Welcome, Instapundit readers! Have a look around at some of my other posts you may find of interest. I send out a daily summary of posts here through my Substack – https://substack.com/@nicholasrusson that you can subscribe to if you’d like to be informed of new posts in the future.
December 28, 2025
QotD: The Middle Ages saw rebellions but no revolutions
Therefore there were no revolutions in the Middle Ages or the Ancient World, only rebellions — even a nasty series of civil wars like The Wars of the Roses were merely bloody attempts to replace one set of rulers with another, without comment on the underlying structure. A medieval usurpation couldn’t help but raise questions about “political theory” in the broadest sense — how can God’s anointed monarch be overthrown? — but medieval usurpers understood this: They always presented the new boss as the true, legitimate king by blood. I forget how e.g. Henry IV did it — Wiki’s not clear — but he did, shoehorning himself into the royal succession somehow.
Combine that with Henry’s obvious competence, Richard II’s manifest in-competence, and Henry’s brilliant manipulation of the rituals of kingship, and that was good enough; his strong pimp hand took care of the rest. Henry IV was a legitimate king because he acted like a legitimate king.
A revolution, by contrast, aims to change fundamental social relations. That’s why medieval peasant rebellions always failed. Wat Tyler had as many, and as legitimate, gripes against Richard II as Henry Bolingbroke did, but unlike Henry’s, Tyler’s gripes couldn’t really be addressed by a change of leadership — they were structural. 200 years later, and the rebels were now revolutionaries, willing to give structural change a go.
Severian, “¡Viva la Revolución!”, Founding Questions, 2025-02-27.
December 8, 2025
Hungary 1956: The Day Hope Met Soviet Steel – W2W 056
TimeGhost History
Published 7 Dec 2025Here we trace how, only eleven years into Soviet rule, Hungary’s brief hope after Stalin’s death ignites into demands for reform, free speech, and withdrawal of Soviet troops. Students mass in Budapest, the secret police fire on demonstrators, and the uprising spreads as workers’ councils seize factories and crowds pull down Stalin’s statue. Imre Nagy promises neutrality and multi-party politics, but Moscow wavers, then sends in overwhelming force. As tanks return to Budapest, street fighting erupts, radios broadcast desperate pleas, and the revolution is crushed, leaving thousands dead and a generation convinced that the thaw was an illusion.
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December 7, 2025
History Summarized: Quebec’s Architectural Memory
Overly Sarcastic Productions
Published 1 Aug 2025Congratulations, you just got Chateau’d.
Ten years ago I visited Quebec City with my dad, this summer the two of us went back, and today I bring you the analytical fruits of a visit well spent. (Let it be known I did my best attempt at Quebecois, recalling pronunciation differences like Frontenac condensing to “Frotnak”, but otherwise defaulting to Metropolitan French when I wasn’t sure of local pronunciations. Alas, any attempt to “split the difference” between Quebecois and Metropolitan French will invariably result in utter disaster. For this, je suis désolé.)
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November 19, 2025
Ken Burns’ The American Revolution gets the Howard Zinn seal of approval
CDR Salamander is persuaded, against his better judgement, to watch the latest Ken Burns documentary … and discovers that it’s somehow still 2018-2022 in Burns’ world:
So, I’ve watched the two episodes of Ken Burns’s documentary, The American Revolution, in spite of my stated zero desire to do so. Why? If you are not up to speed with the MSNBCification of Ken Burns over the last decade, catch up.
Anyway, as Mrs. Salamander knows more about the American Revolution than 99.7% of people out there, she insisted we watch it. I’ve been married for over three decades for a reason, so I sat down with her to watch.
FFS.
… and … it started with a land acknowledgement. ISYN.
It doesn’t get better.
By the end of episode two we’ve gotten through the Battle of Bunker Hill, yet there has been no mention of John Locke, Montesquieu, or any of the other philosophical drivers of the revolution. They have plenty of time to quote the memories of an old man about what he thought of George Washington when he ran into him when he was 8 (it wasn’t good).
Let’s pause there a bit. It is clear that they made a decision that for every good thing they say about GW in the first two episodes, they insist on finding a way to smear him with presentism. It is also clear that he really wants to do a documentary on African Americans in the Revolutionary War, but couldn’t get the funding for that. Instead there is a constant referring back to slavery and racial issues. Just overdone to the point of being obvious, given that they were, at best, tertiary issues during the war. It deserves mention, but not in this ham-fisted, patronizing manner it is being done … and done mostly to smear GW up.
The presentism and biased scholarship is not shocking if you’ve read my reports at my Substack over the years about the absolute woke-soaked state of American historical organizations such as the American Historical Association. (see my FEB 2021 Substack, “The War on (Military) History: Half a Century In” for reference.)
The smearing of GW like this is more than “balance” — it is emblematic of the presentism that makes so many modern virtue signaling tiresome — and exactly meets the low expectations I had for this documentary.
There is also the pettiness of their choices of what to comment on, and how — the smug New England perspective of the Acela Corridor that is Ken Burns’ intellectual terrarium. Just one example from the second episode: the arrival of the Virginians to support the patriot forces around Boston. Might as well have called them rednecks.
Even Mrs. Salamander, halfway through Ep. 2, had about enough of the shoehorned in identity politics of “inclusion” … as if everyone ever got over the fever of 2018-2022.
