to six years.43 The compensation to slave holders and investors in slavery has helped perpetuate privilege and luxury in Britain and elsewhere for the generations of descendants of British enslavers. Including widows, clergymen and many shareholders with financial, trading and other relationships with slavery, those who were compensated for the loss of their property have continued to use this and other monies from slavery to amass wealth, power and advantage. The same is true for various institutions in British society documented by the Legacies of British Slave Ownership project at University College London.44 Hence, current social and racial hierarchies in Britain are tangibly related to slavery and to the British government’s massive rewards to owners of human property.
As this illustrates, hierarchical access to social, political and economic rights was deeply ingrained in British political culture. Similar hierarchies were embedded in the premises of nineteenth-century British thinkers, especially the Utilitarians, whose thought is another important source of liberalism. While advocating constitutional representative government, equality under the law, and freedom of thought, speech and conscience – with only the prominent exception of Jeremy Bentham – they simultaneously provided important sources of guidance for British colonial administration, especially of India. Their support for colonialism meant that these thinkers had to make and justify exceptions to liberal principles. The justifications sprang from the a priori position that Europeans in general were superior peoples, and, by the same token, non-Europeans possessed an inferiority often characterized as uncivilized or barbaric. Following the observations of colonial administrators, prominently including the jurist and historian Sir Henry Maine,45 the idea that non-Europeans were fixed in a prior state of human development became part of the guiding assumptions of liberalism.
Stokes opens his history of Utilitarian thought on India by observing that ‘the physical and mental distance separating East and West was to be annihilated by the discoveries of science, by commercial intercourse, and by transplanting the genius of English laws and English education’.46 To achieve this, James Mill, and his son John Stuart Mill – who spent thirty-five years as a British East India Company official – believed that authoritarian rule would be needed to transform Indians culturally if liberal democracy were to be successful. In 1859 in his introduction to ‘On Liberty’, John Stuart Mill proclaimed:
To characterize any conduct whatever towards a barbarous people as a violation of the law of nations only shows that he who speaks has never considered the subject … Barbarians have no rights as a nation except a right to such treatments as may, at the earliest possible period, fit them for becoming one. Despotism is a legitimate mode of government in dealing with barbarians, provided the end be their improvement, and the means justified by actually effecting that end.47
Although most of his writings were meant to apply to Britain, Mill did not think Indians were sufficiently advanced to have liberal democracy extended to them. Because suffrage should not be offered to those who are not ‘in the normal condition of a human being’48 – meaning illiterate and poor people in Britain – it certainly could not be granted to Indians on account of Mill’s conviction of their backwardness. Although the British introduced some elements of representative government in India, both Mills opposed it. James Mill’s energies were fashioned towards ‘a revolution in Indian society carried out solely by the weapon of law’.49 Much of this was geared towards destroying collective ownership of property, which he regarded as primitive, and introducing individualistic private property relationships. Assuming a Hobbesian version of human nature as egoistic and violent, Mill believed that the individual must be at the centre of all policy, not the collectivity – and certainly not the cultures of those under colonial rule.
France, like Britain, was a colonial power as well as a slave-holding and slave-trading nation. It also necessarily conferred rights differentially. Despite the Republican universality of the French Revolution, exclusions and rightlessness were present in French slave trading, slave owning and the running of Caribbean plantation colonies, with complex gradations of privileges based on racial phenotypes. The Revolution made no decisive break with slavery, and in its zigzag aftermath the state stipulated other categories of inferior rights for women, religious minorities and those without property. In part because of the stark contradiction between the ‘Rights of Man’ and enslavement, the highly profitable wealth-creating slave trade became a taboo subject which the post-Revolution Constituent and Legislative Assemblies avoided. In the Constituent Assembly, 150 ‘colonial proprietors’ sat as National Deputies. They looked after slave-plantation interests, and this included twice preventing ‘mulattoes’ from admission as Deputies in a ‘storm of protest’ so vigorous that the reporter’s voice could not be heard.50 An early post-Revolutionary decree made it a crime to incite unrest in the colonies.51 Although slave emancipation occurred in 1794 after the Revolution, under pressure from the Société des Amis des Noirs and passionate politicians and intellectuals, it was not meaningfully implemented, and the French slave trade itself reached its peak between 1789 and 1791, with eighty-three slave ships sailing from Nantes and Bordeaux alone in 1790. That same year, over 40,000 Africans were sold in Saint-Domingue, several thousand more than in the pre-Revolutionary era.52 After seizing power in 1799, Napoleon Bonaparte reinstated slavery in 1802 and denied any political rights to free blacks in the colonies and France.53 It was therefore the resistance of enslaved people in Saint-Domingue led by Toussaint L’Ouverture that pushed Republican universalist France towards a grudging recognition of ‘universal’ human rights, rather than liberal French anti-slavery sentiment, as writers such as Aimé Césaire and C. L. R. James have argued.54
French enslavement of Africans coexisted with more formal colonialism. Alexis de Tocqueville gave much thought to French colonization in Algeria. His preoccupations were somewhat different from those of John Stuart Mill since he was dealing with a settler colony, and Mill in India was not. When in his 1841 ‘Essay on Algeria’ he turns to looking at rights, he is far more concerned with the rights of the colonists than the colonized, and advocates making life for the former as close as possible to what it would be in France. However, ‘our great political institutions’ – which Tocqueville lists as elections, freedom of the press and trial by jury – ‘are not necessary for the infancy of societies’.55 He further contends that political liberties need to be suspended due to the necessity of militarily protecting the outnumbered French colonists, whom he believed needed to have their rights to colonize and appropriate land strengthened. He says little about Muslim Algerians rights to their property, and assumes that they will only benefit from French colonization as long as it is carried out thoughtfully. But, in 1848, Louis Napoleon came to power through a coup d’état, and then curtailed democratic rights, jailed opponents, set up penal colonies and declared himself Emperor for life. His twenty-year rule coincided with several foreign conquests, including Syria, Indo-China, and the establishing of Maximillian in Mexico, where liberal Republican rights were denied to local populations.
Civic Stratification
While hierarchies of rights holders were created in British and French colonies and in the home countries in the nineteenth century, as well as in colonial and slave societies such as the USA, such processes are mirrored in contemporary Western countries. The idea of civic stratification, first employed by sociologist David Lockwood to denote how social inequalities could be embedded in citizenship entitlements, differs only from what obtained in colonial situations in that the political setting is notionally non-colonial. For Lydia Morris, who developed Lockwood’s civic stratification more widely, the concept is:
implicitly concerned with the construction of ‘moral standing’ in society and explores the relations between possession or absence of rights and access to ‘moral and material resources’. Briefly put, the argument is that a regime of rights can both shape and be shaped by the moral standing of a given group in society such that an erosion of standing can undermine the enjoyment of, or claim to rights (civic deficit or civic exclusion), while the denial of rights further erodes moral standing. The converse would also apply, in that the accrual of moral standing
