Monday, 30 April 2012

Cromwell as the Dialectical Figure of Transition: A Marxist Reading of Ian Gentles’ Oliver Cromwell: God’s Warrior and the English Revolution

Oliver Cromwell's role in the English Revolution remains debated among historians. Traditional Whig views see him as a champion of constitutional liberty, while revisionists portray him as a political opportunist or a provincial gentleman made prominent by chance. Post-revisionists try to combine these perspectives but often overlook the social aspects of the revolution. Gentles’ biography notes that the revolution gradually shifted England from feudalism to capitalism and that Cromwell was influential in this change. A Marxist interpretation thus focuses less on Cromwell’s personal traits or military skill and more on the societal and class forces that drove his rise to power.

Cromwell’s class position and the crisis of the 1640s

Cromwell’s rise is closely linked to the gradual decline of feudal systems and the emergence of commercial and agrarian capitalism. His economic actions, as documented by Gentles, show he was a provincial gentleman whose wealth depended on expanding commercial agriculture and credit. Gentles highlights that Cromwell frequently cancelled debts and even funded military campaigns, including the Irish campaign, using his own money. These acts are not typical of a feudal lord defending inherited privileges, but rather reflect the political investments of a social group confident that dismantling the old order would protect its material interests.

Cromwell’s religiosity, often seen as central to his character, should be viewed as the ideological expression through which this class interpreted its rise. His beliefs in providence, moral discipline, and the emphasis on “liberty of conscience” reflected the worldview of a social group striving for freedom from monarchical and episcopal control, while reinforcing the importance of property, contracts, and labour discipline. In this context, religion isn't separate from class analysis but serves as its cultural manifestation.

However, Cromwell’s importance extends beyond mere class standing. In Marxist terms, he embodies a historical tendency, serving as the agent through which the emerging bourgeoisie operates. Cromwell was not the author of the revolution but its instrument; not the creator of capitalism but its midwife. His role is intrinsically linked to the revolutionary process itself.

The New Model Army and the dialectic of revolution

The New Model Army represented the most advanced form of the revolutionary movement, uniting middle-class interests, artisans, small producers, and the lower gentry into a disciplined, ideologically driven force capable of overthrowing the feudal state's military power. Cromwell’s leadership was not coincidental; his social background allowed him to bridge the Army’s radical democratic elements—such as the Levellers and soldiers’ councils—and its conservative, property-protecting factions, including the officer corps and Parliamentarians.

Cromwell’s suppression of Leveller mutinies, often seen as hypocrisy or betrayal, was actually a vital move by a bourgeois revolutionary. The revolution needed to rally the lower classes to overthrow the old order, yet also had to contain them once their demands risked surpassing bourgeois property limits. This dialectic — unleash, then restrain — is not a personal contradiction but the structural logic of bourgeois revolution itself.

This pattern is not exclusive to England. Every bourgeois revolution involves forces whose goals go beyond bourgeois boundaries: such as the sans-culottes in France, the radical democrats of 1848, and the workers’ councils in Russia before October. Therefore, the English Revolution exemplifies a universal pattern: bourgeois revolutions are driven to rally the masses to overthrow feudalism and later suppress them when they endanger property.

The Protectorate and the formation of a bourgeois state

The Protectorate (1653–58) marks the first sustained effort to establish a modern state in England. Its key reforms—centralised taxation, a professional military, cautious religious tolerance, and expanded overseas trade—indicate the development of a proto-capitalist state. Cromwell’s government was neither a return to feudal rule nor simply a military dictatorship; it was an early form of the bourgeois state, working to stabilise revolutionary gains while suppressing radical movements.

The period's administrative innovations—such as centralised taxation, county committees, a professional standing army, and a unified national bureaucracy—embody the nascent modern state in institutional terms. These changes were driven not by Cromwell’s personal preferences but by the structural needs of a society shifting toward capitalist relations. The old feudal state, characterised by decentralised authority, personal loyalties, and fiscal disarray, failed to meet the demands of expanding trade, colonial ambitions, or the political ambitions of the middle classes. Despite its instability, Cromwell's regime signified the new principles of state power: rationalisation, centralisation, and the reduction of local and aristocratic independence in favour of a national authority.

The phrase “godly reformation” provided the moral language used to justify these changes — shaping how labour was regulated, social life was disciplined, and hierarchical structures that supported capitalist ties were reinforced. It is no coincidence that during this same era, there was a rise in labour discipline, moral policing, and social regulation. These practices embody the cultural expressions of a new economic system.

The Protectorate’s shifting between parliamentary governance and military rule exposes a fundamental contradiction of the English Revolution. While it dismantled the old feudal order, it failed to establish a stable new system. The bourgeoisie was powerful enough to overthrow feudalism but remained too weak to govern directly. Therefore, Cromwell’s authoritarian approach is not a mistake but a reflection of the revolution’s ongoing unfinished process.

Revolution, counter‑revolution, and the limits of bourgeois agency

Cromwell’s career highlights the inherent contradictions of bourgeois revolution. While he dismantled the old order, he struggled to build a stable new system. He rallied radical groups but ended up suppressing them. He promoted liberty of conscience yet enforced political authoritarianism. These paradoxes are not due to personal flaws but stem from the structural ambivalence of a class that is revolutionary in fighting feudalism but conservative in defending property.

The suppression of the Levellers, the dissolution of the Rump, and the imposition of the Major-Generals were not deviations from Cromwell’s ideals; rather, they were necessary actions by a class that needed popular support to win the revolution but was wary of the social aftermath of its success. The bourgeoisie could not permit the Army's democratic aims or the sectaries' radicalism to overhaul the social order beyond property and hierarchy. Cromwell’s authoritarian approach was, in this perspective, not a betrayal but an extension of the revolution — the point at which the revolutionary fervour of the lower classes was restrained to preserve the emerging capitalist structure. This is Cromwell’s tragedy: he embodies a revolutionary class only in destroying feudalism, not in creating a new social order. He carries history forward while being crushed by its contradictions.

Ireland and the colonial dimension of bourgeois revolution

The English Revolution was more than a domestic event; its influence extended to Ireland, Scotland, and the Atlantic. Cromwell’s Irish campaign, often seen as a moral failure or tragic excess, should be viewed as a key part of capitalist imperialism, not a deviation from it. Gentles highlights that Cromwell’s anti-Catholic stance was shared by the emerging bourgeoisie of the time, and his actions in Ireland helped shape Irish nationalism later on. The broader importance of the campaign lies in how it facilitated violent land reforms, the creation of a Protestant settler community, and Ireland’s integration into England’s economic system.

The massacres at Drogheda and Wexford were not mere anomalies; they served as terroristic means to enforce a new property system. The plantation approach, redistribution of seized lands, and suppression of Catholic political influence were crucial in establishing a capitalist agrarian economy in Ireland. Cromwell’s acts of imperial violence highlight the global scope of the bourgeois revolution, linking the strengthening of capitalist relations domestically with colonial control overseas. Ireland thus became a testing ground for colonial dominance, where religious ideology justified the brutal enforcement of a new economic structure.

Cromwell’s historical legacy: destruction as creation

Gentles’ conclusion that Cromwell’s achievements were “chiefly destructive” overlooks the dialectical process of revolutionary change. Revolutions inherently involve destruction, but from that destruction, something new and better often emerges. The dismantling of the monarchy, the episcopal church, and the feudal aristocracy was not an end in itself; it served as the necessary foundation for a new social order to develop.

Cromwell’s legacy should be viewed through the lens of historical necessity rather than moral judgment. He was the figure who dismantled the old order and helped build the new one. His contradictions reflect the revolutionary upheaval; his violence embodies the struggle of a rising class seeking dominance; his failures highlight the bourgeoisie’s inability to secure victory without resorting to authoritarian measures. Cromwell is neither a hero nor a villain, nor a saint or a tyrant. Instead, he represents the historical process of the English bourgeois revolution: a figure that is both essential and tragic, both creative and destructive, embodying revolutionary change and conservative stability.

Conclusion: Cromwell as the dialectical figure of transition

Reinterpreting Cromwell from a Marxist perspective involves emphasising the social aspects of the revolution and placing his actions within the broader structural changes in English society. Cromwell was not the originator of the revolution but a tool of its implementation; he did not invent capitalism but facilitated its development; he was not a symbol of liberty but a representative of a new form of control. His life and career highlight the complex interplay of destruction and creation, mobilisation and repression, national liberation and colonial violence.

Sources and Bibliography

Primary Sources

  • Cromwell, Oliver. Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell, ed. Thomas Carlyle. London: Chapman & Hall, 1845.
  • The Clarke Papers, ed. C.H. Firth. 4 vols. London: Camden Society, 1891–1901.
  • The Thomason Tracts, British Library, London.
  • Rushworth, John. Historical Collections. 7 vols. London, 1659–1701.
  • The Putney Debates, in Puritanism and Liberty, ed. A.S.P. Woodhouse. London: J.M. Dent, 1938.
  • The Acts and Ordinances of the Interregnum, 1642–1660, ed. C.H. Firth and R.S. Rait. London: HMSO, 1911.
  • The Journals of the House of Commons, vols. 3–7 (1640–1660). London: HMSO.

Secondary Sources: Marxist and Materialist Historiography

  • Marx, Karl. The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. 1852.
  • Marx, Karl, and Friedrich Engels. Selected Correspondence. Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1975.
  • Hill, Christopher. The World Turned Upside Down: Radical Ideas During the English Revolution. London: Penguin, 1972.
  • Hill, Christopher. God’s Englishman: Oliver Cromwell and the English Revolution. London: Penguin, 1970.
  • Hill, Christopher. The English Revolution 1640. London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1940.
  • Dobb, Maurice. Studies in the Development of Capitalism. London: Routledge, 1946.
  • Brenner, Robert. “Agrarian Class Structure and Economic Development in Pre‑Industrial Europe.” Past & Present 70 (1976): 30–75.
  • Wood, Ellen Meiksins. The Origin of Capitalism: A Longer View. London: Verso, 2002.
  • Anderson, Perry. Lineages of the Absolutist State. London: Verso, 1974.

Secondary Sources: Revisionist and Post‑Revisionist Historiography

  • Gentles, Ian. Oliver Cromwell: God’s Warrior and the English Revolution. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.
  • Gentles, Ian. The New Model Army in England, Ireland and Scotland, 1645–1653. Oxford: Blackwell, 1992.
  • Morrill, John. Revolt in the Provinces: The People of England and the Tragedies of War, 1630–1648. London: Longman, 1976.
  • Morrill, John. “The Religious Context of the English Civil War.” Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 34 (1984): 155–178.
  • Russell, Conrad. The Causes of the English Civil War. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990.
  • Russell, Conrad. Parliamentary History, 1603–1642. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979.
  • Woolrych, Austin. Britain in Revolution, 1625–1660. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.
  • Woolrych, Austin. Oliver Cromwell. London: Longman, 1990.
  • Reid, John. The Scottish Covenanters and the English Civil War. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1982.

Secondary Sources: Radicalism, Sectaries, and Popular Politics

  • Sharp, Buchanan. In Contempt of All Authority: Rural Workers and the English Rising of 1381. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980.
  • Reay, Barry. The Quakers and the English Revolution. London: Temple Smith, 1985.
  • Hessayon, Ariel, and David Finnegan (eds.). Varieties of Seventeenth‑Century Radicalism. Farnham: Ashgate, 2011.
  • Peacey, Jason. Print and Public Politics in the English Revolution. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013.
  • Manning, Brian. The English People and the English Revolution. London: Heinemann, 1976.
  • Manning, Brian. 1649: The Crisis of the English Revolution. London: Bookmarks, 1992.

Secondary Sources: Ireland, Empire, and Colonialism

  • Lenihan, Pádraig. Consolidating Conquest: Ireland 1603–1727. London: Routledge, 2014.
  • Ó Siochrú, Micheál. God’s Executioner: Oliver Cromwell and the Conquest of Ireland. London: Faber & Faber, 2008.
  • Canny, Nicholas. Making Ireland British, 1580–1650. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.
  • Plant, David. Cromwell and Ireland. London: British History Online, 2010.
  • Armitage, David. The Ideological Origins of the British Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

Secondary Sources: State Formation and Political Theory

  • Skinner, Quentin. The Foundations of Modern Political Thought, vol. II. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978.
  • Tawney, R.H. Religion and the Rise of Capitalism. London: Penguin, 1926.
  • Gorski, Philip. The Disciplinary Revolution: Calvinism and the Rise of the Modern State. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003.
  • Weber, Max. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. London: Allen & Unwin, 1930.

Suggested Further Reading (for Marxist Dialectical Context)

  • Trotsky, Leon. History of the Russian Revolution. London: Pluto Press, 1977.
  • Trotsky, Leon. The Permanent Revolution. New York: Pathfinder, 1978.
  • Hobsbawm, Eric. The Age of Revolution, 1789–1848. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1962.
  • Hobsbawm, Eric. Industry and Empire

 

Monday, 23 April 2012

Bandit Queen commented on The English Civil War- Trial of The King Killers

Excellent drama and history of the trials of the men who killed Charles I and the revenge of the monarchy that they tried to abolish, the sources are well represented here and here their own words and testimony. It was brilliant.

   

Saturday, 21 April 2012

Nick commented on Oliver Cromwell: God's Warrior and the English Revolution (British History in Perspective) Professor Ian Gentles


I really enjoyed this review - thanks for posting it, I must get round to reading Gentles's book soon.

On the subject of Cromwell and the junto, I don't think it's disputed that he was involved in its fringes during the early 1640s. His links to Oliver St John and through that to the circle around the Earl of Warwick and Viscount Saye and Sele are well documented. Where historians disagree - and ultimately the evidence is too slender to prove either way - is quite how much a part of the circle he was.

It's possible to see his interventions in the Long Parliament in 1640/41 as naive and over-reaching, misjudging the politics of the day, but equally they can be represented as Cromwell flying kites for the junto in full knowledge that they might get watered down (but recognising someone needed to start negotiations). 

Personally, I think Cromwell's involving in freeing John Lilburne points more towards the latter, but whichever the interpretation you take it's clear Cromwell was only a minor player at this stage.

John Adamson is good on this in his chapter on Cromwell and the Long Parliament in John Morrill's "Oliver Cromwell and the Puritan Revolution".



Friday, 20 April 2012

A Short Q&A with Professor Ian Gentles.

Professor Ian Gentles is the author of a new biography of Oliver Cromwell. To compliment my review I asked him a few questions

Q. What made you write another biography of Cromwell?

A. I wrote this biography because the publisher invited me to.  In addition, I am fascinated by Oliver Cromwell, and believe that I understand the 'inner man’ better than most historians, especially his religion, which is of such key importance in understanding him. Finally, I believe I had some original information and insights to impart.  Through my research in the Close Rolls (NA, C 54) I turned up material on his personal finances of which no one else was aware.  I am also the first person to draw public attention to the "Fleetwood Chest", his wedding gift to his daughter Bridget, now held in the Collins Barracks Museum in Dublin.  I believe also that I have successfully interwoven his political and military careers and shown how they were interconnected, and influenced each other.

Q Are you aware that Prof john Morrill and his team are working on a new critical edition of the collected works of Oliver Cromwell.

A. Yes, I know about the forthcoming critical edition.  John Morrill is a good friend of mine, and we have discussed many aspects of Cromwell's life. The critical edition will be most welcome since WC Abbott's edition is unsatisfactory in many respects.

Q How do you see the current historiography on Oliver Cromwell

A.It is striking that new material on Cromwell is being turned up all the time.  In particular Patrick little has written about the Protectorate, as well as Cromwell's daughters' marriages, his interest in horses, and music, and his sense of humour.  Andrew Barclay has written a valuable study of Cromwell's early life, in which he has solved the puzzle of how Cromwell managed to get elected for the borough of Cambridge in 1640.  Both Little and Barclay have kindly shared with me their research findings in advance of publication.  Blair Worden is preparing a keenly-awaited intellectual biography of Cromwell.

Q What are you working on now.

A.This summer I am writing the biography of Col. Thomas Pride for the History of Parliament, and preparing a keynote address to the Midwest Conference on British Studies on the state of play in Civil War studies.  My longer-term project is a book on Ireland and England in the 16th and 17th centuries, with particular attention to the plantations of the 1650s.



Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Kate Chidley commented on http://keith-perspective.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/on-katherine-chidley-1616-1653.html


I'd love to find that she was my ancestor ! you go.girl.l've read somewhere that she harangued Cromwell, saying they had promised all would be equal, but, quoting Orwell, some were more equal than others, i.e. men more equal than women. Is it possible to find pamphlets online? What a lady,

Reply

Thank you for the comment. Can you remember where you saw that she met Cromwell? I have just finished an article on Women Levellers and the English Revolution for the blog Hoydens and Firebrands which includes some stuff on Chidley.

If you like I can send you some stuff I have on her. It is true she was quite a lady and apparently one of many. Maybe you should do some research on whether she was a relative. Chidley does not strike me as a common name, where are you from.

Best Wishes

Keith Livesey


Wednesday, 11 April 2012

Newton commented on winstanley Review

I became excited by Winstanley et. al. through Hill's World Turned Upside Down in the 70s, about the time Kevin Brownlow was creating his movie. Much later, after Christopher Hill gave a talk (on Bunyan), I asked him about the Diggers from the sixties.

I noted, that Emmet Grogan's autobiography, Ringolevio mentions that they decided on calling their NYC group (transplanted to San Francisco) the Diggers after reading an English history book.

I asked what that the book would have been since WTUD came out after the Digger moment.

He smiled with delight to remind me, of course, that he had been writing about the Diggers at length at least since the edited collection of documents, The Good Old Cause, in 1949.   

Monday, 9 April 2012

Cinema and Bourgeois Historical Consciousness-

Winstanley (1975): A rigorous and unsentimental account of England’s first communists

Kevin Brownlow and Andrew Mollo’s Winstanley deserves to be far better known than it is. Made on a shoestring over several years in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and shot in a stark, almost ascetic black and white, the film recounts the brief and doomed attempt by Gerrard Winstanley and a band of landless poor to cultivate common ground at St George’s Hill, Surrey, in 1649 — an episode largely written out of the popular memory of the English Revolution, in which the establishment narrative prefers to dwell on constitutional wrangling between Crown and Parliament rather than on the class forces beneath it.

That the film exists at all is remarkable. Brownlow and Mollo financed it independently, outside the structures of the British film industry, with a budget that would barely cover catering on a studio production. The cast, drawn overwhelmingly from historical re‑enactment societies and ordinary volunteers rather than professional actors, gives the film an unpolished, documentary-like authenticity that no amount of studio finance could purchase. Faces are weathered, movements unrehearsed, speech halting in a way that paradoxically brings the seventeenth century closer than any glossier costume drama has managed. This aesthetic choice is not incidental but political.

The historiography of the English Revolution that emerged from the postwar period — above all in the work of Christopher Hill, whose account of the radical undercurrents of the 1640s gave the Diggers and Ranters their due as serious historical actors rather than eccentric footnotes — insisted that the revolution had a submerged current far more radical than Cromwell’s Independency, one that anticipated later socialist and communist thought by centuries. Winstanley’s own writings, with their demand that the earth “be made a common treasury for all” and their attack on buying and selling, on landlordism, on the very basis of private property, place him unmistakably in that current. Brownlow and Mollo’s film, whatever its limitations, is one of the few serious attempts by anyone to bring this history to a mass audience through the medium of cinema.

The film’s weaknesses are real. Cromwell never appears, a curious absence given that he — far more than Fairfax, who does — was the chief architect of the crushing of the Levellers, Diggers and the left wing of the revolution generally, and his political logic (that the “levelling principle” if allowed to run its course would abolish the distinction between landlord and tenant altogether, and must therefore be suppressed) is essential to understanding why the Digger colony was doomed almost from its founding. Its absence leaves a gap in the film’s account of the forces arrayed against Winstanley: the violence he faced came not only from hostile local landowners and the soldiery but from the political calculation of the new bourgeois state consolidating itself in the aftermath of the king’s execution. A film with greater resources might have found room to dramatize that conflict more fully. Yet this is a criticism of degree, not of kind.

What Brownlow and Mollo achieve, with almost nothing, is a portrait of poverty, hunger and resolve that avoids both sentimentality and condescension — the two besetting sins of nearly every subsequent attempt at “peasant” historical drama. The commune’s poverty is shown as material fact, not picturesque suffering; its members are not saints but people driven to an extraordinary political conclusion by extraordinary circumstances. Miles Halliwell’s Winstanley is not an inspirational speechmaker but a man working out, with visible effort, what it might mean to act on the conviction that the earth belongs to no one and to everyone.

Brownlow made the film at a moment — the tail end of the 1960s radicalization — when the question of what had gone wrong with official politics pressed on him directly; he later spoke of his disillusionment with a Labour Party and Conservative Party that had become indistinguishable from one another. That disillusionment does not make the film didactic or present‑minded in any crude sense — there is no attempt to dress the seventeenth century up as an allegory of 1968 — but it does explain the seriousness with which the film treats its subject, and its refusal to condescend to a movement whose defeat did not make it any less prescient.

Cinema and Bourgeois Historical Consciousness

This seriousness also marks Winstanley out from the broader landscape of British historical cinema, which has long been shaped by the ideological limits of bourgeois historical consciousness. Bourgeois culture can tolerate Cromwell the statesman, Fairfax the gentleman, even the Levellers as proto‑liberals. What it cannot accommodate — what it must repress — is a movement that exposes the class foundations of the society that remembers it. The Diggers are unassimilable because they represent a negation of the very property relations on which bourgeois society rests. To show them truthfully is to show that capitalism was not the inevitable outcome of the seventeenth century but the result of a political defeat.

Mainstream cinema cannot show this defeat because it cannot show the class struggle that produced it. The conventions of bourgeois historical drama — the focus on “great men,” the fetish for costume, the smoothing of conflict into personal dilemmas — obscure the structural antagonisms that drive history. Cromwell becomes a man wrestling with conscience rather than the representative of a rising bourgeois order; the Levellers become democratic idealists rather than the petty‑bourgeois left wing of a revolution whose logic they could not control; the Diggers disappear entirely or are rendered as picturesque eccentrics.

Winstanley breaks this pattern not through rhetorical radicalism but through its aesthetic refusal of heritage cinema. Its stark photography, non‑professional cast, and attention to hunger, cold and labour reject the visual luxuries through which bourgeois cinema domesticates the past. The film’s poverty becomes a political resource: it forces the seventeenth century to appear as a world of material struggle rather than decorative nostalgia. In doing so, it exposes the ideological poverty of mainstream historical cinema, which cannot imagine a past in which capitalism was not the horizon of human development.

The rarity of such a film is itself a historical fact. Bourgeois society can tolerate many kinds of dissent, but it cannot tolerate a representation of its own birth as a moment of counter‑revolution. To show the Diggers truthfully is to show that capitalism emerged through the suppression of a communist alternative — and that is a truth bourgeois cinema, almost by definition, cannot speak.

Conclusion

More than three and a half centuries after St George’s Hill, the conditions that produced Winstanley’s movement — landlessness, social inequality, a political establishment offering no way out — have not disappeared; if anything, the gulf between the propertied and the propertyless has widened enormously since 1975. Winstanley is not, and does not pretend to be, a complete history of the revolution’s left wing. But as a serious, unglamorized attempt to put the Diggers and their ideas before an audience, it remains close to unique, and repays the effort of seeking it out.