The historian and writer John Rees recently dismissed my
work as “moronic,” a comment delivered with an arrogance that wrongly equates
theatrical confidence with intellectual depth. A clear factual point triggered
his outburst: the article he criticised directly and thoroughly addresses capitalist
structural issues. This is not a matter of interpretation or emphasis; it is
simply a fact. Rees’s criticism therefore rested on a false premise. Once an
argument's foundation is false, everything built on it collapses. In that
sense, his intervention was, in his own words, moronic.
However, the problem goes beyond a single careless insult.
Rees’s reaction shows a common pattern: when faced with evidence that
challenges his favoured story, he replaces careful analysis with assertion and
dismisses with ridicule. His confident tone aims to hide the fact that he
hasn't truly engaged with the argument's core. It's simpler to sneer than to
admit that his critique distorts the text he alleges to analyse.
This isn't just a lapse in academic thoroughness; it's a
strategic political move. By asserting that his work does not “ignore structure,” he constructs a convenient
falsehood to portray himself as the champion of methodological rigour. However,
when the evidence clearly shows that structural analysis is explicit, central,
and unavoidable, his claim becomes not only inaccurate but also deliberately
misleading.
What made the episode even more revealing was the venue of
his “intervention.” His grand theoretical denunciation appeared not in a
journal or a serious forum, but on that well‑known academic platform
called Twitter, a medium perfectly suited to the drive‑by insult, the evasive
half‑thought, and the refusal to engage with evidence. His comment was not only
dismissive; it was unfounded, inaccurate, and demonstrably incorrect. The
entire exchange exposed the intellectual poverty of his position: a loud
assertion masking the absence of argument, a confident tone concealing a
factual vacuum.
Rees’s insult therefore tells us far more about his method
than about my work. It reveals a pattern: when confronted with structural
analysis that contradicts his voluntarist worldview, he resorts to caricature
rather than engagement, dismissal rather than debate. His Twitter broadside was
not a critique but a symptom, a small, noisy expression of the larger
falsification that underpins his books.
This exchange is more than just a minor academic
disagreement. It exposes a fundamental flaw in Rees’s Marxism and his
interpretation of the English Revolution: his work rests on a core
falsification that distorts all subsequent arguments. Rees claims that Marxist
historians supposedly "ignored structural questions,” positioning himself
as the heroic figure restoring a supposedly lost methodological approach.
However, this assertion is not only incorrect but also historically
unjustifiable. It demands that readers overlook the entire Marxist tradition,
from Hill and Manning to Dobb, Hilton, Morton, and the broader scholarship on
the seventeenth-century crisis.
Rees needs this lie because, without it, his work lacks
purpose. If he admitted that Marxists have always been structural historians,
his work would appear derivative: a competent summary of Hill and Manning,
filled with recycled insights and falsely presented as innovative methodology.
The lie is therefore politically essential. It lets Rees portray familiar ideas as discoveries, elevate himself above the tradition he's summarising, and assert a level of theoretical authority he hasn't genuinely earned.
Rees and the Base–Superstructure Problem
A key weakness in John Rees’s historical approach is his
treatment of the Marxist idea of the base and superstructure. While he often
uses Marxist terms, his interpretive practice frequently reverses the
relationship Marx and Engels outline. This leads to a form of “political
Marxism” in which ideology, discourse, and organisational structures take
precedence, and the foundational elements of revolutionary change are seen as
less important or optional. This reversal is more than a theoretical mistake;
it directly affects how Rees views the English Revolution and the Leveller
movement.
Marx describes the base- the combined productive forces and
relations of production- as the fundamental 'real foundation' that gives rise
to political and ideological structures. The superstructure includes the state,
law, religion, philosophy, and the broader ideological sphere, which stabilise
and legitimise class relations. The relationship between base and
superstructure is dialectical: the base ultimately influences the
superstructure, but the superstructure also feeds back to influence the base,
guiding and sometimes hindering its evolution. Understanding this relationship
is crucial for explaining why revolutions happen, how class groups form, and
why political actors may be unaware of the structural forces shaping their
actions.
Rees’s analysis, however, focuses more on the superstructure
and often overlooks the foundational economic aspects. In The Leveller
Revolution, the story centres on political action, ideological disputes, and
organisational innovation. Pamphlets, debates, and factional strategies take
prominence. At the same time, the significant structural changes in
seventeenth-century England, such as agrarian capitalism, the collapse of
feudal property systems, the rise of merchant capitalism, and England’s
integration into the emerging global system, are only briefly addressed. The
Levellers are portrayed not as products of class conflicts but as independent
political agents whose ideas drive historical change. This approach exemplifies
the kind of idealism Marx criticised in his critiques of the Young Hegelians.
The issue becomes sharper when Rees places it within the
wider scope of the English Revolution. Marxist historiography has traditionally
argued that national revolutions should be understood in the context of the
seventeenth-century global crisis, including the Dutch revolt, Spanish fiscal
collapse, French state failure, and Ottoman stagnation. These interconnected events reflected a world-system in major transition. Rees’s
hesitation to consider this structural framework narrows his analysis to
England’s internal political conflicts, disconnecting the revolution from the
global forces that influenced it. A Marxist critique that overlooks the
world-system is, at best, incomplete; at worst, it risks replicating the
national insularity of the revisionist historiography he opposes.
This narrowing has methodological consequences. When the
base is minimised, the superstructure becomes inflated. Ideology appears
autonomous; political actors seem to generate history through discourse alone.
The Levellers become a free‑floating democratic project rather than a political
expression of the contradictions of early bourgeois society. The crisis of the
Stuart state becomes a matter of constitutional conflict rather than the
political form of deeper economic and social tensions. In short, Rees’s
approach risks transforming Marxism into a theory of political voluntarism.
A genuinely Marxist analysis of the English Revolution would
begin with the structural conditions: the transformation of agrarian
capitalism, the pressures of market expansion, the contradictions of feudal
property relations, and the fiscal‑military crisis of the early modern state.
Only then would it move to the political and ideological forms through which
these contradictions were expressed. Rees reverses this order. He begins with
ideology and political action, and only occasionally gestures toward the
structural forces that Marxists consider primary.
In this sense, Rees’s treatment of base and superstructure
is not merely theoretically inadequate; it undermines the very Marxist method
he claims to defend. By privileging the superstructure, he produces a
historiography that is Marxist in vocabulary but not in substance: a political
reading of a profoundly structural revolution.
Rees’s philosophical outlook is heavily influenced by the political
culture of the organisation he once belonged to. The SWP has long promoted a
story where it alone maintains the true revolutionary tradition against
revisionists, academics, and apostates. Each intervention is framed as a
rescue: Marxism is constantly in crisis, under threat, and in need of restoration,
with the SWP positioned as the saviour. Rees’s book exemplifies this pattern.
It claims a crisis (“Marxists ignored structure”), then offers itself
as the remedy (“I will restore the method”). This deception is intentional and
embedded in Rees’s book.
A deeper methodological tension also emerges. Rees’s own
historiographical instincts lean toward voluntarism, political minorities, semi-ideological
clarity, and activist initiative. This approach is incompatible with the
structural tradition of Hill and Manning. But Rees cannot openly break with
Hill and Manning, because doing so would sever his connection to the Marxist
lineage he needs for legitimacy. The lie solves this problem. By claiming that
Hill and Manning “ignored structure,” Rees creates space to redefine Marxist
method in ways that align with his political preferences while appearing
to defend the tradition he is quietly revising.
Rees’s Marxism and the English Revolution misrepresents the
Marxist tradition by diluting its methodology and substituting dialectical
analysis with political storytelling. It does not restore Marxist
historiography; instead, it serves as a political act built on intentionally
falsifying the tradition it claims to defend. The essay Rees called moronic starts
by revealing this falsification, then defends the actual structural tradition
that Rees mischaracterises, and ultimately places his book within the wider
crisis in SWP historiography.
Rees believes that Marxist historians have "ignored
structural questions,” leaving him to reestablish the correct methodological
foundation. This is not a minor error or an unusual viewpoint; it is the core
falsehood that supports the entire book. Removing this claim would reduce
Rees’s work to a competent but derivative summary of Christopher Hill and Brian
Manning. Keeping it, however, allows Rees to cast himself as the heroic
restorer of a supposedly lost Marxist tradition.
The core issue is clear: the claim is absolutely false. It's
not merely debatable or incomplete; historical evidence has conclusively
disproven it. Marxist historiography has depended on structural analysis for
nearly a century. Rees’s statement essentially requires disregarding this
entire intellectual tradition he claims to represent.
Christopher Hill’s work alone effectively reveals the
falsehood of the revisionist view. His main arguments- the emergence of
agrarian capitalism, the integration of market relations, changes in
ideological superstructure, and the reorganisation of the gentry and yeomanry-
are fundamental Marxist structural claims. Hill argued against revisionists by
highlighting their neglect of structure, which led them to see the English
Revolution merely as constitutional disputes and factional conflicts among
elites. His repeated assertion that “economic change underlay political
conflict” was central to his methodology and not a minor comment. To suggest
that Hill overlooked structural causality distorts the historiographical
record.
Brian Manning’s work emphasises structural analysis. His
examination of class division, popular mobilisation, and the makeup of radical
movements forms a critical foundation. His studies of the London crowd, rural labourers,
and middle classes focus on class formation from a structural perspective, not
on stories of voluntary political activism. Manning’s book, The English People
and the English Revolution, is a consistent structural analysis. Rees’s claim
that Manning’s insights are “new evidence” is more about rhetoric than
scholarship, aiming to boost his own position while dismissing the existing
tradition.
Beyond Hill and Manning, the broader orthodox or classical Marxist
approach encompasses the dialectical relationship between productive forces,
relations of production, class formation, ideological superstructure, political
agency, and structural constraints. This perspective is not detailed in his
book on the English Revolution. Rees’s assertion that Marxists overlooked
structural issues is thus incorrect; it appears to be a deliberate
misrepresentation intended to introduce a new methodological approach.
The orthodox Marxist approach stands in sharp contradiction
to Rees’s own practice. His reluctance to situate the English Revolution within
the wider seventeenth‑century global crisis the Dutch revolt, the long decline
of Spain, the fiscal breakdown of France, the stagnation of the Ottoman Empire
marks a decisive departure from the structural, world‑system analysis that has
always been central to Marxist historiography. A genuinely orthodox perspective
connects national upheavals to the international dynamics of capitalist
development; Rees consistently refuses to do so.
Likewise, an orthodox Marxist reading of the Leveller
movement foregrounds the interplay of class formation, political agency, and
the contradictions of emergent bourgeois society. It treats the Levellers not
as isolated political actors but as expressions of deeper structural tensions
within early modern England. This is precisely the kind of analysis Rees now
claims Marxists have neglected, even though it is foundational to the tradition
he purports to defend. In short, the very methods Rees dismisses define Marxist
historiography at its strongest. His critique does not expose a weakness in
Marxist analysis; it exposes a weakness in his own.
So, why does Rees cling to the lie? Because he depends on
it. Without claiming that Marxists abandoned structural analysis, Rees cannot
position himself as the one restoring Marxist methodology. He cannot justify
his contribution or elevate his work above the tradition he summarises. Thus,
the lie is not accidental but a political necessity: a tool Rees uses to turn a
derivative book into a supposed methodological breakthrough.
Manning: Class Segmentation and Popular Mobilisation
Brian Manning’s contribution to Marxist historiography is a
thorough and detailed analysis of class division and popular mobilisation
during the English Revolution. While Christopher Hill outlined broad structural
changes such as the transformation of agrarian capitalism, market expansion,
and ideological shifts, Manning focused on how these large-scale pressures
appeared in everyday life, political action, and ordinary people's collective
efforts. His work directly challenges the false image Rees promotes; rather
than overlooking structural forces, Manning’s scholarship relentlessly explores
the social roots of revolutionary politics.
Manning’s approach centres on the view that class is not an
abstract idea but a tangible, lived, and segmented reality. He dismisses the
idea of a unified “people” or a single “middling sort,” instead highlighting
the detailed gradations of wealth, occupation, status, and political interest
that influenced mobilisation. In "The English People and the English
Revolution," Manning shows that the societal fracture during the
revolutionary crisis was far more complex than the simple binary distinctions
revisionists prefer. Artisans, small producers, urban shopkeepers, rural
labourers, tenant farmers, and soldiers each brought their own grievances and
hopes to the revolution. Their political actions must be understood in light of
their specific positions within a changing capitalist system.
Manning’s approach challenges Rees’s fundamental idea by not
viewing popular mobilisation as merely spontaneous. Instead, Manning attributes
it to structural pressures such as declining real wages, enclosure, inflation,
the erosion of traditional rights, instability in petty production, and
conflicts inherent in emerging market society. He sees the crowd not as a
uniform group but as a result of societal tensions during a period of change.
For instance, his study of London’s apprentices reveals how their fragile
economic status, caught between guild rules and market forces, generated a
unique form of radicalism that goes beyond simple ideological fervour.
Manning’s treatment of the New Model Army is equally
significant. He avoids romanticising the soldiers as proto-democrats and does
not attribute their politics solely to Leveller influences. Instead, he places
the Army within the larger class framework: mainly made up of artisans, small
producers, and labourers, whose shared experiences of military discipline,
unpaid wages, and political disillusionment heightened their class awareness.
Manning’s structural approach explains why the Army became a hub of radicalism:
it brought together lower and middle-class segments in conditions that deepened
their grievances and clarified their opposition to the ruling class.
Manning’s work also highlights the limitations of popular
mobilisation. He demonstrates that class segmentation led not only to
radicalism but also to conservatism, hesitation, and fragmentation. For
instance, the petty bourgeoisie swung between advocating political reform and
fearing social unrest. Rural labourers often lacked organisational strength,
while small producers were caught between opposing aristocratic privilege and
worrying about market competition. Manning’s structural approach explains these
contradictions without moral judgment; they are the expected results of a
society with unstable, contested, and rapidly changing class positions.
This type of analysis is exactly beyond Rees's scope. His
voluntarist perspective requires a simplified view of society in which
political actors shape history through clear ideology and organisational
efforts. Manning’s research refutes this idea, showing that popular mobilisation
is always influenced by structural factors, that class divisions influence
political actions, and that revolutionary drive comes from material
contradictions, not just ideological calls.
The SWP’s Voluntarist Pseudo‑Marxism
John Rees’s book, Marxism and the English Revolution, is
built on a crucial falsehood: the idea that Marxist historians “ignored
structural questions.” This is not a minor exaggeration or mistake; it is central to his argument. Without it, the entire argument falls
apart. Without it, Rees’s work merely rehashes Hill and Manning’s ideas,
claiming methodological novelty while really just recycling existing views.
This falsehood is not just a convenient misdirection; it is vital for
supporting the political and intellectual story Rees aims to tell.
To understand why Rees depends on this distortion, it's
essential first to recognise the SWP's political culture. The Socialist Workers
Party has historically built a myth that it alone keeps the true revolutionary
tradition alive, standing against a world filled with degenerates,
revisionists, and heretical academics. This self-image demands ongoing
ideological upkeep. Each action is seen as a rescue: Marxism is constantly in
crisis, always under threat, and in need of revival— with the SWP as the
perpetual saviour. This story matters; it shapes how members view history,
politics, and theory.
Rees’s historiography reflects this political culture
directly. His earlier work, notably The Leveller Revolution, shows a clear
voluntarist bias. His narrative focuses mainly on ideological actors, radical minorities, and parliamentary strategies, while downplaying structural factors like class formation, economic change, and tensions within bourgeois
society. This voluntarist focus is deliberate and aligns with the SWP’s view that revolutionary action depends mainly on political will, ideological clarity, and organisational effort. Although structural issues such as economic crises,
shifting class dynamics, and changes in productive forces are mentioned, they
are considered secondary. The SWP emphasises that the key driver of revolution
is always the subjective element: the revolutionary party and its members.
This worldview inevitably shapes how the organisation writes
history. Rees’s stories tend to overemphasise political
minorities and ideological figures. The Levellers are portrayed as a precursor
to the SWP, motivated more by ideological purity than by the pressures of early
bourgeois society. Similarly, the New Model Army is seen as radical not because
of its class makeup, material concerns, or role in the revolutionary crisis, but mainly because of agitators' influence. This approach overstates
political agency and downplays structural causes. Such a perspective reflects a
voluntarist pseudo-Marxist view.
This voluntarist distortion conflicts with the Marxist
tradition Rees claims to defend. Hill and Manning—whom Rees both references and
undermines—were thoroughgoing structural historians. They believed political behaviour
stems from material contradictions: falling real wages, enclosure, inflation,
the loss of traditional rights, and the fragility of small-scale production.
They argued that structural forces, not ideological persuasion, drive class
consciousness. Rees struggles to fully adopt this approach because it conflicts
with the SWP’s political identity. If structural forces shape history, activist
minorities are inherently limited. If class formation guides political actions,
voluntarist interventions can't replace material analysis. The SWP’s narrative
demands a history where political minorities—like the party—play pivotal roles.
This is why Rees must distort the Marxist tradition. He
cannot openly reject Hill and Manning; doing so would sever his link to the
lineage he needs for legitimacy. But he also cannot adopt their structural
method, as it contradicts the SWP’s voluntarist politics. The solution is to
rewrite the tradition: to claim that Hill and Manning “ignored structure,”
thereby creating space to redefine Marxist methodology in a way that aligns
with SWP voluntarism while appearing to defend the tradition he is quietly revising.
The falsehood also functions as a rhetorical tool. By
claiming that Marxists have traditionally ignored structural questions, Rees
can present familiar ideas as new discoveries. When he discusses class segmentation, inheritance pressures, or the dilemma of second sons, he frames them as revelations rather than longstanding insights. This strategy hinges on
convincing the reader that Marxists have overlooked these issues. The lie acts
as a marketing tactic: old ideas are repackaged as innovations. Rees positions
himself as the guardian of methodological correctness, a role with significant influence within the SWP, where theoretical authority is linked to organisational power. Therefore, the falsehood serves both intellectual and
political purposes: it boosts Rees’s stature within the party by portraying him
as the defender of “real” Marxism.
Ultimately, Rees’s claim is a necessary falsehood because
his analysis cannot match the depth of the established tradition. Hill’s
dialectical approach to class formation, Manning’s comprehensive mapping of
popular mobilisation, and the broader Marxist analysis in The Algebra of
Revolution reveal the superficiality of Rees’s voluntarist view. If Rees
recognised the tradition’s complexity, his book would seem shallow and
derivative. Thus, this falsehood shields his work from the
standards of the very historians he aims to emulate. Without it, his argument
would lack originality, methodological strength, and political significance.
The falsehood underpins his entire argument; remove it, and his book
falls apart.
The Levellers and the Problem of Class
A thorough Marxist review of the Levellers must start with
the understanding that they were not a uniform “radical democratic” group, nor
a static embodiment of abstract political ideals. Instead, they were a
class-divided movement emerging amidst the contradictions of early capitalism
in transition. Their program, language, and organisational styles can only be
properly understood by placing them within the material conditions that
influenced their social base. This is where John Rees’s voluntarist approach
falls short. By emphasising ideological actors and political minorities, he obscures
the structural roots of Leveller politics and reduces a complex class movement
to a mere activist story.
Rees often suggests the Levellers were a unified group of
enlightened radicals pushing history forward. In reality, they were a coalition
of diverse class factions, each driven by different grievances, interests, and
future goals. This included independent artisans, small producers, urban
shopkeepers, radicalised soldiers, disaffected gentry, and religious
sectarians, all of whom shaped the movement’s ideas and structure. Their unity was
fragile, dependent on shifting class roles, and always threatened by internal
tensions. Viewing the Levellers as a single ideological movement ignores the
contradictions that actually defined them.
The roots of Leveller politics are deeply tied to the
transformation of English society during the rise of capitalism. Small-scale
producers in London, such as printers, brewers, metalworkers, and cloth
finishers, faced growing competition, unstable markets, and diminishing
traditional protections. Their political demands for legal equality, magistrate
accountability, and limits on arbitrary authority weren't purely ideological
but were defensive measures against the insecurity created by the market
economy. Their focus on property rights, fair contracts, and the importance of
small ownership reflected their class position: they were neither remnants of
feudalism nor full proletarians, but early bourgeois democrats aiming to secure
their footing in a rapidly shifting world.
The soldiers of the New Model Army were another key part of
Leveller strength. Their radicalisation stemmed not only from ideological
influences, as Rees’s voluntarist view claims, but also from tangible
grievances: unpaid wages, fears of disbandment, resentment towards the social
hierarchy among officers, and the shared experience of discipline. The Army
acted as a crucible for class consciousness, bringing together artisans,
labourers, and small producers in conditions that heightened their opposition
to the ruling class. Therefore, the Leveller impact within the Army stemmed
mainly from structural factors, not solely from ideological brilliance or
activist efforts.
Even among the Leveller leaders, class divisions created
tensions. Lilburne’s support for small property, Overton’s radical
natural-rights ideas, Walwyn’s focus on religious toleration, and the
Rainsborough brothers’ call for political equality all showed different class
perspectives. Their unity was based on strategy, not shared structure. The
movement’s fall after 1649- its failure to maintain mass support, its
fragmentation under repression, and its inability to develop a unifying program
for diverse class groups- was not a moral failing but a structural outcome. The
Levellers were a class group that was too limited, contradictory, and still
developing to succeed in a bourgeois revolution whose main forces demanded
stability, hierarchy, and property requirements.
Rees cannot admit this explicitly. His voluntarist
pseudo-Marxism simplifies society, imagining political minorities such as the
SWP having decisive influence. Consequently, the Levellers appear as a unified
ideological vanguard, with their class conflicts minimised, their structural
origins hidden, and their political flaws moralised rather than examined. This
creates a history that reflects the SWP’s political mythology rather than the
true material conditions of seventeenth-century England. A Marxist analysis
shows the opposite: the Levellers were a class movement shaped by structural
forces, radical in appearance but limited in substance, reflecting the hopes
and fears of early bourgeois society. Their importance lies in their contradictions
that Rees’s voluntarism cannot accept and thus must suppress.
The Absence of Dialectics
The most critical flaw in John Rees’s Marxism and the
English Revolution is its almost complete lack of dialectical analysis. This
isn’t a minor error or just a technical omission; it’s a core failure that
compromises the entire argument. Marxist historiography isn’t merely about
pinpointing class interests or describing political figures. It’s a
methodological approach, a way of understanding history’s contradictory
movements, the relationship between structure and agency, tensions within class
groups, and the ongoing connection between ideology and material circumstances.
Without dialectics, Marxism reduces to a political story. Rees’s book is more
of a narrative than a rigorous method.
Dialectics starts with contradiction, emphasising that
social structures are always changing, never static, harmonious, or reducible
to simple categories. The English Revolution was a crisis caused by conflicts
between rising capitalist relations and declining feudal structures. It was fuelled
by contradictions within the ruling class, the emergent bourgeoisie, between
productive forces and relations of production, and between ideological ideas
and material realities. Thinkers like Hill, Manning, Dobb, Hilton, and the
broader Marxist tradition recognised this, with their work deeply rooted in
dialectical analysis. In contrast, Rees’s book views contradictions more as
narrative inconveniences.
The clearest example is his approach to class. Rees often
reduces complex class structures into simple political categories. Rees
portrays the Levellers as a unified ideological group, ignoring their
composition as a coalition of artisans, small producers, soldiers, and
disaffected gentry. Similarly, the New Model Army is seen as radical mainly
because of agitators, rather than the structural forces shaping its class
makeup. Political minorities are viewed as decisive actors not because they
reveal material contradictions but because Rees’s voluntarist approach compels
this view. Dialectics is replaced with a form of political romanticism.
Rees’s approach to ideology is revealing in its divergence
from traditional Marxist views. While Marxist historiography maintains that
ideology is grounded in material conditions shaped by class experience,
economic forces, and social conflict, Rees treats ideology as largely
autonomous. He emphasises political clarity, organisational effort, and
ideological dedication as key drivers of historical change. This perspective
aligns more with activist idealism than classic Marxism, reflecting the SWP’s
belief that revolutionary action depends mainly on willpower rather than
structural factors. His deliberate lack of dialectics reflects his political
stance.
Rees also misses the dialectical link between structure and
agency. In Marxist theory, agency is always shaped by structure. Political
actors do not exist independently of society; they reflect its contradictions.
The Levellers did not develop their programme purely from ideological
innovation. Instead, they expressed the tensions within early bourgeois society,
such as insecurity in petty production, unstable markets, and declining
traditional protections. The Army's radicalisation stemmed not only from
agitators but also from its class makeup, material grievances, and collective
discipline, which heightened awareness of social conflict. Rees’s voluntarism
fails to account for this, as he tends to simplify the dialectic by reducing
agency to political action and treating structure as a static background.
Rees’s treatment of the revolutionary process notably lacks
dialectical analysis, which is most damaging. The English Revolution was not a
straightforward sequence led by ideological minorities. Instead, it was a
complex movement characterised by conflicting class interests, shifting
alliances, and political outcomes arising from the interplay of structural
forces. Hill’s work reflects this complexity, while Manning’s provides detailed
mapping. Rees’s narrative simplifies this into a story of radical actors
driving history, eliminating dialectics and echoing the SWP’s political
mythology.
In summary, Rees’s historiography is not genuinely Marxist because
it lacks dialectics. It substitutes contradiction with coherence, structure
with agency, and material analysis with ideological voluntarism. This
pseudo-Marxist approach fails to explain the English Revolution because it
cannot understand the inherently contradictory nature of historical change.
6. Rees’s “New Evidence”: Old Wine in New Bottles
A key aspect of John Rees’s 'Marxism and the English
Revolution' is his repeated claim that he has found “new evidence” related to
class division, inheritance pressures, and social dynamics during the English
Revolution. This assertion is central to how he presents his work, as it
enables him to position his analysis as groundbreaking, suggest that earlier
Marxist works missed vital material, and portray himself as the scholar who
correctly places structural analysis at the forefront. However, similar to the
book’s initial falsehood that Marxists “ignored structure’ this claim of
originality quickly falls apart under even basic examination. What Rees claims
as new evidence is essentially old ideas repackaged for an audience presumed
unfamiliar with existing historiography.
For instance, his discussion of the “second sons” problem-
the demographic and inheritance pressures that split the gentry and fuelled
political radicalisation- is presented as a discovery. Rees treats this as a
structural factor previous Marxists overlooked. However, Christopher Hill had
already examined this issue extensively in works like The Century of Revolution
and The World Turned Upside Down. Lawrence Stone’s detailed research on
aristocratic family structures covers similar ground, and Manning included it
in his analysis of class segmentation. Even Rodney Hilton, decades earlier,
acknowledged the importance of demographic pressures in influencing political behaviour.
Therefore, Rees’s so-called “new evidence” is actually a selective restatement
of well-established scholarship.
The same pattern is evident in his analysis of class
segmentation. Rees often argues that Marxists overlooked the complexities of
class divisions among the middle classes, the Army, and the urban petty
bourgeoisie. However, Manning’s work addresses this issue directly. In
"The English People and the English Revolution," Manning details
class segmentation more thoroughly than Rees ever does, identifying artisans,
small producers, apprentices, labourers, and soldiers as distinct groups with
unique interests, grievances, and political paths. Hill’s research also
highlights the varied development of class consciousness among social groups.
Therefore, Rees’s claim to originality is not only incorrect but also
disrespectful to the scholarly tradition he seeks to defend.
Even Rees’s discussion of popular mobilisation, touted as a
breakthrough in understanding the social roots of radicalism, merely restates
ideas that Manning, Hill, and Hilton explored decades ago. The notion that
economic pressures, market instability, and the weakening of traditional
safeguards influence political behaviour is well-established and forms the
basis of Marxist historiography. Rees’s effort to claim these as new insights
is more a rhetorical tactic than a genuine scholarly contribution.
Rees needs to present old arguments as new because his
entire project relies on the illusion of innovation. Acknowledging that
Marxists have already examined class segmentation, demographic pressures, and
structural causality would make his book seem derivative- merely a competent
summary of Hill and Manning rather than a true methodological breakthrough.
Claiming novelty helps him elevate his work above the tradition he summarises,
positioning himself as the scholar who finally revives Marxist method and
justifying the book’s polemical tone.
The European Crisis: A Missed Opportunity
Another key weakness in John Rees’s Marxism and the English
Revolution is his superficial focus on the wider seventeenth-century European
crisis. This oversight is significant because understanding the English
Revolution requires considering the continental upheavals that shaped its
historical context. The crisis of feudalism was not unique to England but was a
continent-wide upheaval. Any Marxist analysis that overlooks this broader
European backdrop remains incomplete. Rees’s neglect highlights the limits of
his voluntarist approach and his failure to grasp the era's dialectical
movement.
The seventeenth century was characterised by a widespread
crisis impacting all major European powers. Spain’s decline, caused by
financial strain, military overreach, and the collapse of silver income,
disrupted the European power balance. France faced ongoing financial crises,
peasant rebellions, and the Fronde civil war that exposed serious
contradictions in absolutism. The Dutch Revolt highlighted the disruptive
potential of bourgeois forces challenging feudal systems. The Thirty Years' War
shattered the Holy Roman Empire, devastated central Europe, and revealed the
fragility of feudal political structures. Even the Ottoman Empire faced
stagnation and administrative difficulties. England also fit this broader
pattern of structural decline, not an isolated case.
Marxist historiography has long acknowledged this point.
Scholars like Hill, Anderson, Brenner, and the broader tradition place the
English Revolution within the wider European framework. They see the crisis as
caused by contradictions between rising capitalist relations and waning feudal
structures, along with shifts in productive forces, demographic pressures, and
the uneven development of state forms. The English Revolution exemplifies this
broader crisis, with specific outcomes but a fundamental connection to
continental developments. Rees’s inability to incorporate this context is
therefore more than an oversight; it reflects a methodological shortcoming.
Rees’s voluntarist perspective struggles to explain the
European crisis because it conflicts with his broader political narrative. If
the English Revolution was part of a larger, Europe-wide structural change,
then political minorities and ideological figures cannot be seen as the main
catalysts of historical shifts. Instead, groups like the Levellers, Army
agitators, and radical MPs are better understood as symptoms of deeper systemic
contradictions. The SWP’s belief that small activist groups hold decisive
influence cannot be compatible with a view that stresses broader continental
forces. To maintain his voluntarist model, Rees likely must minimise or ignore
the European crisis.
This omission has tangible consequences. Without considering
the European context, Rees struggles to explain the profound fracture of the
English ruling class, the collapse of the monarchy, the Army's radicalisation,
or the revolution's intense ideological ferment. These phenomena were not
solely English; international forces shaped them. For instance, the English
state's fiscal crisis was related to the costs of warfare on the continent. Dutch republicanism, French Huguenot ideas, and broader Protestant networks shaped the period's ideological radicalism. The structural pressures
behind the revolution extended beyond England’s borders.
In brief, Rees’s approach to the European crisis misses an
opportunity because it highlights his method's shortcomings. A thorough Marxist
analysis requires understanding the complete set of structural forces. Rees’s
voluntarism falls short. His omission is deliberate, reflecting a
pseudo-Marxist stance that fails to incorporate history's full dialectical
development.
Conclusion: A Book Built on a Lie
John Rees’s Marxism and the English Revolution appears as a
revivalist work, aiming to restore Marxist methodology and counter perceived
neglect. However, beneath its rhetoric, the book is based on a falsehood,
relying on selective quotations, omissions, and a voluntarist perspective that
conflicts with the core Marxist tradition it seeks to defend. The core
falsehood is the claim that Marxist historians “ignored structural questions.”
This assertion underpins Rees’s entire argument. Remove it, and his work loses
its distinctiveness, urgency, and justification. With it, he portrays himself
as a hero reestablishing a method that he argues was never truly lost.
The claim's falsehood is clear. Hill, Manning, Hilton, Dobb,
Brenner, and Anderson, all representing the Marxist tradition, are
characterised by their focus on structural analysis. Their studies explore
class development, economic changes, ideological superstructures, and the
contradictions inherent in emerging capitalist societies. They situate
political actions within material conditions rather than the ideological
clarity of activist minorities. They regard the English Revolution as a crisis
shaped by structural factors, not as a platform for voluntarist heroics.
Therefore, Rees’s claim that these historians overlooked structure is not just
wrong; it deliberately misrepresents the historical evidence.
The falsehood is politically motivated because Rees’s
approach cannot withstand the structural tradition. His voluntarist
pseudo-Marxism emphasises ideological actors, parliamentary radicals, and
activist minorities, treating political agency as independent, ideology as
crucial, and structural forces as merely background. This view reflects the
SWP’s political myth, where small activist groups are seen as decisive in
shaping history. However, it conflicts with the Marxist method, which argues
that structure always shapes agency, class consciousness arises from material
contradictions, and political actions mirror social tensions during transition.
Rees cannot openly oppose Hill and Manning because doing so
would break his link to the lineage essential to his legitimacy. However, he
cannot fully endorse their approach either, as it conflicts with the SWP's
voluntarist politics. His solution is to reinterpret the tradition by claiming
that Hill and Manning “ignored structure," creating room to redefine
Marxist methodology in a way that supports SWP voluntarism while seemingly
upholding the tradition he is subtly altering. This deception is thus not a
mistake in thinking but a strategic political move.
This distortion has a significant impact. Rees’s book
simplifies class divisions, removes contradictions, and distorts complex social
structures into basic political categories. The Levellers are portrayed as a
unified ideological force rather than a diverse coalition of artisans, small
producers, soldiers, and discontented gentry. The New Model Army is seen as
radical due to agitators, not its class makeup or economic grievances. The
European crisis is treated as an afterthought instead of a vital structural
factor in understanding the English Revolution. Dialectical methods are
entirely omitted, replaced by a focus on narrative consistency and activist
romanticism.
A Marxist perspective shows that the English Revolution was
driven by structural crises caused by internal conflicts within the ruling
elite, tensions in the developing bourgeoisie, and a continent-wide feudal
collapse. The Levellers represented a faction of this emerging bourgeois
society, voicing its hopes and fears. The army became more radical as its class
makeup and material circumstances fostered greater awareness of social
conflicts. While political minorities were significant, they primarily reflected
underlying contradictions.
Rees’s book cannot address this complexity because it is
based on a falsehood a necessary lie to uphold a voluntarist perspective, to
promote his own interventions, and to reshape the Marxist tradition to fit the
SWP's image. It does not restore Marxist historiography but serves as a
political act, a pseudo-Marxist story that weakens the method it claims to
revive. A book founded on a lie cannot withstand scrutiny. Once the falsehood
is revealed, Rees’s book collapses under the burden of the tradition it seeks
to distort.
Endnotes
Sources and Bibliography
Primary Marxist Sources
- Karl
Marx, The Class Struggles in France, 1848–1850.
- Karl
Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte.
- Karl
Marx, Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy (especially
the 1859 Preface).
- Karl
Marx, Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844.
- Karl
Marx, Revolution and Counter-Revolution in Germany.
- Karl
Marx, England’s 17th-century revolution (articles in the Neue
Rheinische Zeitung).
- Friedrich
Engels, The Peasants’ War in Germany.
- Friedrich
Engels, “The English View of the Internal Crisis” and “The Internal
Crises” (Rheinische Zeitung, 1842).
- Friedrich
Engels, Outline of a Critique of Political Economy (1843).
Classical Marxist Historiography on the English
Revolution
- Christopher
Hill, The World Turned Upside Down.
- Christopher
Hill, The Century of Revolution.
- Christopher
Hill, Puritanism and Revolution.
- Brian
Manning, The English People and the English Revolution.
- Brian
Manning, The Far Left in the English Revolution.
- George
Thomson, The First Philosophers (for structural/class formation
context).
- Rodney
Hilton, Bond Men Made Free.
World‑System and Seventeenth‑Century Crisis Literature
- Immanuel
Wallerstein, The Modern World-System, Vols. I–III.
- Giovanni
Arrighi, The Long Twentieth Century (for systemic cycles of
accumulation).
- Perry
Anderson, Lineages of the Absolutist State.
- Eric
Hobsbawm, The Crisis of the Seventeenth Century (essays in Peasants
and Politics).
- Jan
de Vries, The Dutch Rural Economy in the Golden Age.
- Geoffrey
Parker, Global Crisis: War, Climate Change & Catastrophe in the
Seventeenth Century.
- Jonathan
Israel, The Dutch Republic: Its Rise, Greatness, and Fall.
- J.H.
Elliott, The Count-Duke of Olivares (Spain’s fiscal-military
crisis).
- Rifa’at
Ali Abou-El-Haj, The 1703 Rebellion and the Structure of Ottoman
Politics (for Ottoman stagnation debates).
Levellers, Radical Democracy, and Class Formation
- Rachel
Foxley, The Levellers: Radical Political Thought in the English
Revolution.
- David
Wootton, Political Writings of the Levellers.
- A.L.
Morton, The World of the Ranters.
- Henry
Holst, The Levellers and the English Revolution (Marxist
tradition).
- John
Rees, The Leveller Revolution (to situate and critique his
interpretation).
Revisionist and Post‑Revisionist Historiography (for
contrast)
- Conrad
Russell, The Causes of the English Civil War.
- John
Morrill, Revolt in the Provinces.
- Mark
Kishlansky, A Monarchy Transformed.
- Ann
Hughes, The Causes of the English Civil War.
- Michael
Braddick, God’s Fury, England’s Fire.
Contemporary Marxist Theory and Method
- Ellen
Meiksins Wood, The Origin of Capitalism.
- Robert
Brenner, “Agrarian Class Structure and Economic Development in Pre‑Industrial
Europe.”
- Benno
Teschke, The Myth of 1648.
- Alex
Callinicos, Making History.
- Harry
Cleaver, Reading Capital Politically (for crisis theory context).
General Marx Bibliographies (for further reference)
- Marxists
Internet Archive, Source of Marx/Engels Works by Date.
- Andrew
Chitty, A Marx Bibliography (University of Sussex).
