Gender and the English Revolution- Ann Hughes - 192 pages : Routledge 2011 ISBN-13: 978-0415214902

"The women of the property-owning class will always fanatically defend the exploitation and enslavement of the working people, by which they indirectly receive the means for their socially useless existence."

Rosa Luxemburg

"The English Civil War broke out over issues; both political and religious Gender was not among them."

Bernard Capp

Ann Hughes is Professor of Early Modern History at Keele University; she has published widely on mid-seventeenth Century English history. Her specialities are the study of Gender, print culture and religion. She is undoubtedly one of the foremost authorities on the English Revolution.

In this slim volume, Hughes attempts "to discuss all the ways in which the political upheavals of the mid-seventeenth century interacted with, were affected by and had an impact on gendered roles and relationships."

After a dearth of studies of women and the English revolution, the recent spate of publications examining women and the English revolution, including Hughes's book is to be welcomed up to a point. There is still no of the biography of two of the most famous Leveller women Katherine Chidley and Elizabeth Lilburne.

While one book cannot make up for a few centuries of neglect Hughes's book is an important contribution to our understanding of the role women played in the English revolution.

Hughes's book is part of a proliferation of Gender orientated books that have been published over the last few decades. This relatively new type of historiography has been promoted heavily by universities and publishers alike. The recent proliferation of books, articles, etc. has many reasons. One major factor being the growth of women historians who have started to explore this previously under-researched subjects. Another reason is that women, in general, have a much-increased degree of political freedom and economic independence than previous generations of women.

One of the major problems with this type of politically motivated historical study is the evisceration of class. There cannot be a genuine struggle for women's emancipation without an examination of the class nature of female exploitation. As this article points out  "There is more talk of gender in the American and global media than perhaps at any previous moment in history. The #MeToo campaign in the US has supposedly brought the conditions of women to the fore like never before. The US media and Hollywood are animated by hardly anything else.

"But this is a fraud. The women are getting nearly all the coverage belonging to the upper echelons of society, the richest five or ten per cent. Working-class women are nowhere to be seen in all this, except for a few token exceptions that prove the rule. This skewed class lineup in the media coverage reflects a greater social reality: the gap between affluent women and working-class women has widened dramatically in the past several decades. On International Women's Day in 2018, what are the conditions of the great majority of women in the world, those who are ignored by the media, those who do not get their faces and their complaints on the evening news? Today, of the 1.3 billion of the planet's 7.6 billion inhabitants living in extreme poverty, 70 per cent are women or girls, according to Project Concern International."[1]

The striking feature about the subject matter of Hughes's book is that many of the problems faced by 17^th Century women are unfortunately still with us in the 21^st Century. As I said earlier, there is a dearth of material written on the plight of women in the 17^th Century.It is over eighty years since Alice Clark wrote a major work analysing the working life of women in the 17th Century. Sharon  Howard, in an article about Clark wrote, "I have a soft spot for Alice Clark (not least for her maxim that "those who do not make mistakes do not make anything"). This was her only book. She was not a well-known academic historian; rather, a feminist and businesswoman whose life encompassed many other activities and who only began historical research at the age of 38. She was a member of the Clark family, who were Quakers, of shoemaking fame (you know, those horrible sensible shoes you wore as a kid because your mum made you, except they recently got all trendy and cute).Born in 1874, she was firmly influenced by the 'first wave' of feminism, particularly by debates about female economic dependence and 'parasitism' on men and its adverse effects on women and society as a whole. She also needs to be understood in the context of early 20th-century concerns about the social consequences of industrialisation and pioneering sociological investigations into contemporary conditions of the poor, and increasing interest in what was then called 'economic history' (it would now be termed social history). The contribution made to that historiography by women was subsequently ignored by many historians; feminist historians have in more recent decades worked to reconsider their significance ".[2]

Gender historiography is a relatively new concept in which to study women's role in history. The systematic study of women in history is largely a by-product of the genre "History from below" instigated by the Communist Party History Group. While producing some important research and publications, the replacing of gender over class in the study of historical events is a move away from a classical or orthodox Marxist approach.

Gender studies were heavily promoted by journals such as History Workshop. The growth in gender studies was also facilitated by books like The Making of the English Working Class by Edward P Thompson. Independent women historians and writers started to insist that "women's experience no longer is 'hidden from history.[3]

Books that started to examine women's role in history were not always met with support. When the outstanding historian Keith Thomas who taught history at Oxford in the 1950s decided to set up a series of lectures on Women and the 17th Century his attempt was met with at best indifference and worse outright hostility.

The period that Hughes writes about was truly a world turned upside down, where traditional family roles were coming under high pressure.  As Alison Jones points out "The Civil War of 1642-1646 and its aftermath constituted a time of great turmoil, turning people's everyday lives upside down. It not only affected the men in the armies, but it also touched the lives of countless ordinary individuals. It is well known that women played a significant role in the Civil War, for example, defending their communities from attack and nursing wounded soldiers. What is often forgotten, however, is that some women took advantage of the havoc wrought by the conflict to dissent from conventional positions in society.The slightest deviation by women from their traditional roles as wives and mothers was condemned by this patriarchal society. Therefore dissent could take many forms that today do not appear particularly extreme – for example, choosing to participate in emerging radical religious sects, having greater sexual freedom, fighting as soldiers and practising witchcraft".[4]

It took much courage to take part in the struggles of the day. The punishment for doing was swift and brutal. Heavy punishment was meted out to those women who rebelled against the prevailing orthodoxy. One such 'rebel' was Margaret Cavendish who wrote in a tract  We become like worms that only live in the dull earth of ignorance, winding ourselves sometimes out by the help of some refreshing rain of good educations, which seldom is given us; for we are kept like birds in cages to hop up and down in our houses, not suffered from flying abroad to see the several changes of fortune, and the various humour, ordained and created by nature; thus wanting the experiences of nature, we must need to want the understanding and knowledge so consequently prudence, and invention of men: thus by an opinion, which I hope is but an erroneous one in men, we are shut out of all power and authority, despised, and laughed at, the best of our actions are trodden down with scorn, by the overweening conceit men have of themselves and through despisement of us".[5]

According to Hughes, society's problem was not the result of a class struggle but was because England was a patriarchal society.  While Hughes acknowledges the fact that political and economic differences did occur among men and women, these are mostly ignored. She contends that the primary motivating factor for pursuing civil war was the struggle of women versus men.

Hughes states that "neither women nor men form a homogeneous category, and in this book, their experiences during the English revolution are structured by age, social and marital status, religion, and political allegiance, and sometimes by national or ethnic identity, as well as by Gender. One category missing from this list is class.

I must admit I have problem historians who advocate the theory of patriarchy. Under the guise of investigating all women's history, there has developed a tendency to reduce all women's struggle to a fight against repression regardless of what class they belonged.

The promotion of women's studies came at the same time number of revisionist started to attack previous whig and Marxist historiography.Hughes promotion of Gender studies is in direct opposition to a class-based study of history.

To conclude Hughes book is not without merit as Gaby Mahlberg says

 "The power of Hughes's book, and what makes it so valuable to both specialist scholars in the field and their students, is the great wealth of primary source material on which it is based and the ease with which the author moves between the micro-stories of early modern men and women, their wider context, and ongoing historiographical debates. Gender and the English Revolution are likely to join The Causes of the English Civil War (London, 1991) as staple reading for students of the mid-seventeenth century".[6] Despite the criticisms and caveats, which include Hughes abandonment of any class-based analysis of the English revolution the book is worth reading.

---

[1] The condition of working-class women on International Women’s Day-https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2018/03/09/pers-m09.html

[2] Early Modern Notes by Sharon Howard entitled Alice Clark, working women's historian.

[3] Reviewed Works: Hidden from History. Rediscovering Women in History from the 17th Century to the Present by Sheila Rowbotham; Woman's Work. The Housewife, Past and Present by Ann Oakley-Review by: Susan J. Kleinberg-Journal of Social History

Vol. 10, No. 1 (Autumn, 1976), pp. 99-103

[4] Dissent and Debauchery: Women and the English Civil War- Alison Jones

[5] Philosophical and Physical Opinions (1655)

[6] Gaby Mahlberg's Review 12th July 2012  -www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/09612025.2012.706066

A Short Q&A with Historian Catherine Fletcher

Catherine Fletcher latest book is called Our Man in Rome is set in the six-year period of Henry VIII’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon. It's the story of Gregorio Casali, Henry VIII’s ambassador in Rome from 1525 to 1533, but also the first book-length account of the diplomatic intrigues behind the divorce for several decades.

Q. What made you tackle an already crowded field of historical study of the Tudor's especially Henry viii? My interest was originally focused on Renaissance Italy and the way today’s diplomatic system grew up there. I started looking at Henry VIII’s ‘divorce’ from Catherine of Aragon as a case-study of how monarchs negotiated in Rome, and realised that the Italian side of the story really hadn’t been told before in any detail. I found so much fascinating material that I thought it would be worth writing up.

Q How would you described your historiographical style. Who were your mainly influenced as a younger historian/writer.
?

Writing The Divorce of Henry VIII I was influenced by microhistories that take one small example – in my case the ambassador in Rome – and use it to tell a bigger story. Carlo Ginzburg’s The Cheese and the Worms and Natalie Zemon Davis’s The Return of Martin Guerre are a couple of the classics. Microhistories tend to focus on people lower down the social scale, but I don’t see why they can’t be used to look at the experience of elite figures like ambassadors too. I also had Graham Greene’s Our Man in Havana at the back of my mind (my book was first published as Our Man in Rome). That’s a great book about diplomatic duplicity – and makes an important point for historians that you can never be quite sure that envoys’ letters are telling the truth.

Q What advice would you give to an upcoming historian.

First, I’d say go and explore the archives. There’s a huge quantity of documentation out there – in local record offices, family holdings, and the like – that’s never been properly sorted through. Find a story that interests you and follow it through. And second, I’d say that it’s well worth taking the time to learn languages other than your own. Being able to read material in other languages can give you a very different perspective on historical issues.

Q How do you view the development of history blogs and other internet based historical resources.

History blogs are a great way for historians to discuss work in an informal way – and to find out what’s going on in the world of history. I wish I had more time to read them! They can make for much wider interaction between members of the public and academic historians than would otherwise be possible. The internet has also allowed the creation of some great digital databases of original source material. The Medici Archive Project in Florence has put thousands of letters online, and the Old Bailey Online site is a brilliant resource for anyone researching English legal and social history. My only concern is that we may now see a bias towards research on those themes that have good online resources at the expense of areas which don’t.

Q What are you working on now.

I’m trying to finish an academic book about the development of diplomacy in Renaissance Rome. After that, my plan is to write another book based in Renaissance Italy, and I’m working through the options for that now. There are so many good stories to tell about the great dynasties: the Borgias and the Medici, for example. I’m trying to make up my mind which one to write first!

  

Leveller Women and the English Revolution

Introduction: The Problem of Visibility

The historiography of the English Revolution has long reflected a paradox. While the period is seen as a crucial point in the development of modern political awareness—such as republicanism, constitutionalism, and democratic activism—women involved in these struggles have often been marginalised. History, and historians in general, have not been kind to the Leveller women radicalised during the English Revolution. This issue extends beyond archives to a broader historiographical problem: the analytical frameworks used to interpret the Revolution frequently overlook gender as a key factor. This essay explores how historians have studied Leveller women, how Marxist scholarship has reinterpreted their importance, and how contemporary research is working to incorporate gender, class, and political radicalism into a cohesive analytical approach.

Marxist Historiography and the English Revolution

Christopher Hill’s work remains the foundational reference. He argued that the English Revolution was not just a constitutional crisis but a deep social upheaval. His observation that the Revolution “helped many women both to establish their own independence and to envision a complete escape for the poorer classes” is crucial. It positions women’s activism as a result of structural changes—war, displacement, religious divisions, and the decline of traditional authority—rather than an anomaly. Hill’s Marxist approach, connecting ideology to material conditions, allowed for understanding women’s political rise. However, Hill did not produce a detailed study of Leveller women; his work is more suggestive than exhaustive.

The Levellers in Marxist Interpretation

Marxist historians have long debated the class identity of the Levellers. Were they petty-bourgeois democrats, radical republicans, or proto-socialists? John Rees’s view that the Levellers constituted a distinct political organisation rather than just a faction within Independency is significant. It helps us see Leveller women not as secondary figures but as active participants in a coherent political movement.

The Levellers’ demands—such as sovereignty of the Commons, legal reform, and expanding the franchise—were inherently limited by their social class. Their exclusion of women from voting highlights the contradictions of a movement rooted in small producers and artisans: radical in opposing aristocratic dominance, yet conservative in gender roles.

According to The Lawes Resolutions of Woman’s Rights (1632), married women were legally considered non-persons. This harsh fact has significantly influenced feminist historiography. Researchers like Ann Hughes, Susan Amussen, and Kate Aughterson have demonstrated that women’s political activities should be interpreted within this context of legal invisibility. Consequently, women’s petitions, protests, and pamphlets served as acts of political self-empowerment — moments where women asserted agency despite its formal absence.

The 1649 women’s petition is among the earliest English texts to advocate for gender equality explicitly. The quote — “we are assured of our creation in the image of God, and of an interest in Christ equal unto men” — uses theological reasoning to support political claims. Feminist historians note that religious language was often the only available way to express political equality. The petition’s call for equal legal protection — “Are any of our lives, limbs, liberties, or goods to be taken from us more than from men…?” — foreshadows later feminist demands for civil rights.

Class, Gender, and Contradiction

Soma Marik’s intervention is crucial: she questions the economic factors influencing women’s activism. The response reveals contradictions: women earned less than men; domestic work could undermine patriarchal authority; and war brought both independence and difficulties. This mirrors Marxist theory, suggesting women’s political awareness arises from the conflicting forces within a society in transition, rather than from ideology alone.

Ian Gentles challenges the simple narrative of poverty by revealing that Chidley’s family thrived during the Commonwealth era. This is significant for historiography, as it shows that radicalism did not necessarily correlate with economic hardship. Chidley’s activism was influenced by her religious beliefs, political background, and social mobility. Her pamphlet, The Justification of the Independent Churches of Christ, demonstrates her ability to craft nuanced polemics. Her defence of “the plaine truth of holy Scripture” is not anti-intellectual but a conscious rejection of clerical authority.

Elizabeth Lilburne and the Politics of Survival

Ann Hughes’s research on Elizabeth Lilburne emphasises the issue of sources: nearly all our knowledge comes via John Lilburne’s writings. Despite this bias, Elizabeth appears as a politically engaged individual—petitioning Parliament, negotiating with hostile authorities, and supporting her family during persecution. Her activities show that women’s political agency was frequently expressed through defending imprisoned men—a form of activism influenced by gender expectations but capable of producing significant change.

Lady Eleanor Davies represents a different strand of women’s radicalism: aristocratic, prophetic, anti‑royalist. Her repeated imprisonments and the burning of her books — “her books were burned by Archbishop Laud — and, for good measure, by both of her own husbands” — illustrate the breadth of female dissent. The fact that women’s printed work constitutes “less than one per cent” of surviving texts underscores the archival challenge. Feminist historiography must therefore reconstruct political agency from fragmentary evidence.

Recent historiography, particularly Gaby Mahlberg's research, reveals that wives of prominent republicans created informal political networks during the Revolution. This challenges the traditional view that women’s political involvement was just reactive, such as petitioning for imprisoned husbands or seeking clemency. Instead, these women engaged in a parallel realm of political communication, often more discreet, mobile, and less detectable by authorities than formal Leveller organisations.

Edmund Ludlow’s recollection illustrates the sophistication of these networks. He feared he would receive no royal pardon because, as he recorded, “the wife of Sir Henry Vane had told Elizabeth [Lilburne] that General Monck’s wife had said she would beg the king… to see Vane, Lambert, and Ludlow hanged.” This was not idle gossip. It was political intelligence, transmitted through a chain of women who understood its implications and acted upon it. Information about Monck’s intentions, the king’s likely severity, and the dangers facing republican leaders circulated through domestic spaces — kitchens, parlours, marketplaces — where male surveillance was weakest.

These networks show that women were more than just channels for male political ideas. They made collective judgments, evaluated risks, and offered advice to their husbands. Elizabeth Lilburne’s persistent urging that John “make peace with Cromwell,” which he dismissed as “mournfull arguments,” was actually a realistic political assessment of their circumstances. Like many Leveller women, her advice came from a clear understanding of the changing power dynamics and the dangers of ongoing conflict.

Recognising these informal networks forces a reconsideration of women’s political agency in the English Revolution. It shows that women were embedded within the organisational fabric of radical politics, even when excluded from formal structures. Their communication networks linked households, circulated intelligence, and sustained political coordination during periods of imprisonment, exile, and repression. Far from being marginal actors, Leveller women were integral to the revolutionary movement’s ability to survive and adapt — operating in spaces where political power was exercised quietly, strategically, and with remarkable courage.

Conclusion

The recognition of women’s informal political networks compels a fundamental rethinking of the English Revolution. It reveals that women were not simply petitioners at the margins of male politics, nor passive observers of events unfolding around them. They were active participants in the circulation of intelligence, the formation of political judgement, and the maintenance of radical organisation under conditions of repression and uncertainty. Their work took place in spaces historians once dismissed as “domestic.” Yet, these spaces proved essential to the survival of republican and Leveller politics when formal structures were disrupted by imprisonment, exile, or military defeat.

By foregrounding these networks, we gain a clearer sense of the Revolution’s social depth. Radicalism did not reside solely in pamphlets, army debates, or parliamentary confrontation; it lived also in households, marketplaces, and the everyday exchanges between women whose political insight was sharpened by necessity and sustained by solidarity. Their contributions were rarely recorded, often undervalued, and almost always overshadowed by the writings of their husbands — yet without them, the Leveller movement would have been immeasurably weaker.

To restore these women to the historical narrative is not an act of token inclusion but a recognition of political reality. They were organisers, strategists, communicators, and, in many cases, the last line of defence for imprisoned radicals. Their presence forces us to see the English Revolution not only as a struggle over constitutional forms but as a profound reordering of social relations, in which women carved out new spaces of agency within — and sometimes against — the constraints of patriarchal society.

In acknowledging their role, we enrich our understanding of the Revolution itself. We see more clearly how deeply its currents ran, how widely its ideas travelled, and how fiercely its participants — men and women alike — fought to shape the future. The Leveller women, in their petitions, pamphlets, and networks of quiet but decisive influence, remind us that the struggle for equality has always depended on those whose work is least visible but most essential. Their story is not an appendix to the Revolution; it is one of its most radical expressions.

Sources and Bibliography

Primary Sources

• “Women’s Petition” (1649). In J. O’Faolain and L. Martines, Not in God’s Image. New York: Harper and Row, 1973, pp. 266–267.
• Elizabeth Lilburne. A Petition of Women (5 May 1649).
• William Clarke Manuscripts. In A. S. P. Woodhouse (ed.), Puritanism and Liberty: Being the Army Debates (1647–9). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951.
• Simonds D’Ewes. Diary entries relating to women’s demonstrations, 8 August 1643.
• Katherine Chidley. The Justification of the Independent Churches of Christ (1641). Printed by William Larner.
• Thomas Edwards. Gangraena (1646).
• *The Lawes Resolutions of Woman’s Rights (1632).
• Lady Eleanor Davies. Prophetic writings and trial records (1633–1636).

Secondary Sources

Historiography and Marxist Scholarship

• Hill, Christopher. Women Turning the World Upside Down.
• Hill, Christopher. Irreligion in the Puritan Revolution.
• Rees, John. The Leveller Revolution: Radical Political Organisation in England, 1640–1650. London: Verso.

Social and Gender History

• Durston, Christopher. The Family in the English Revolution. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989.
• Hughes, Ann. “Gender and Politics in Leveller Literature.” In Susan Amussen and Mark Kishlansky (eds.), Political Culture and Cultural Politics in England: Essays Presented to David Underdown. Manchester: Manchester University Press; New York: St Martin’s Press, 1995, pp. 162–188.
• Aughterson, Kate (ed.). Renaissance Woman: A Sourcebook: Constructions of Femininity in England.
• M’Arthur, Ellen A. “Women Petitioners and the Long Parliament.” The English Historical Review, Vol. 24, No. 96 (October 1909), pp. 698–709.
• Marik, Soma. “Women, Radicalism, and the English Revolution.” Social Scientist, Vol. 32 (2004), pp. 50–70.

Leveller Studies

• Gentles, Ian. “London Levellers in the English Revolution: The Chidleys and Their Circle.” Journal of Ecclesiastical History, Vol. 29 (1978), pp. 281–309.
• Mahlberg, Gaby. The History Woman (blog). Commentary on republican networks and women’s political communication.

Biographical and Contextual Works

• Woodhouse, A. S. P. (ed.). Puritanism and Liberty. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951.
• Underdown, David. Works on political culture and popular radicalism (referenced indirectly through Hughes).

Digital and Reference Sources

• “Simonds D’Ewes.” Wikipedia.
• Gaby Mahlberg, thehistorywoman.com (blog).
• Archival materials relating to Lady Eleanor Davies (British Library, State Papers).

 

Against Continuity: Trotsky, the Transition Debate, and the Pseudo Left’s Political Dead End

Introduction

The debate over the transition from feudalism to capitalism remains a contentious topic in Marxist historiography. For more than a century, it has stood for deeper theoretical and political conflicts: debates about historical change, the relationship between economic and political shifts, and their implications for socialist strategies. Recently, however, the focus of this debate has shifted. An increasing number of pseudo-left scholars prefer ideas of continuity, national contexts, and eclectic methodologies, drifting away from Marxism’s revolutionary foundation toward a sociological perspective of gradual change. Henry Heller’s book, "The Birth of Capitalism: A 21st Century Perspective" (2012), exemplifies this development. Although it aims to elucidate capitalism’s origins, it ultimately obscures them through national exceptionalism, misapplied categories, and political pessimism.

This essay argues that the pseudo-left’s view of history is not only wrong but also politically damaging. It warps facts, overlooks capitalism’s global and revolutionary roots, and often weakens support for socialist efforts. Conversely, the traditional Marxist approach—especially Trotskyism—provides a straightforward way to understand capitalism’s uneven development and the various forces at play, helping us see its origins and ongoing crises. The significance of this matter goes beyond theory; it directly influences the future of revolutionary politics.1

The Continuity Turn in Marxist Historiography

The historiographical stance of the pseudo-left is based on a wider intellectual change that started in the late 20th century. Revisionist historians began to focus more on continuity rather than sudden breaks, viewing revolutions as part of enduring structural trends. The English Revolution was seen as a constitutional matter; the French Revolution was framed as a fiscal issue; the Industrial Revolution was regarded as a demographic shift. This revisionist trend paralleled the decline of Marxist thought in academia and the rise of post-structuralist scepticism toward overarching narratives.2

Within Marxist circles, the continuity perspective was articulated through the work of Maurice Dobb and Paul Sweezy, whose mid-century debate on transition shaped later discussions. Sweezy’s book, The Theory of Capitalist Development (1942), sought to move beyond his neoclassical education. Still, it significantly diverged from Marx, particularly regarding the falling tendency of the profit rate. This Dobb–Sweezy debate facilitated interpretations that minimised sudden breaks and focused on sustained long-term commercial growth.

By the 1970s, this trend became a deliberate attack on the very idea of revolution. As Dominic Alexander points out, mainstream history started to dismiss the notion that capitalism arose from truly revolutionary changes, instead seeing its development as part of an ongoing global trading network. The pseudo-left adopted this revisionist view wholesale, confusing its scholarly appearance with genuine theoretical depth.

Political Marxism and the National Straitjacket

The most impactful pseudo-left perspective in the transition debate is Political Marxism, linked to Robert Brenner and his followers. Brenner’s influential article, “Agrarian Class Structure and Economic Development in Pre-Industrial Europe” (1976), contended that capitalism arose primarily at the national level—in England—driven by shifts in agrarian class relations. He regarded international trade, colonial expansion, and global disparities as minor or insignificant factors.3

This idea of methodological nationalism is deliberate, reflecting a political stance that rejects the core internationalism of Marxism. Since capitalism has historically developed along national lines, socialism must follow the same path. If capitalism didn't require a global upheaval, socialism wouldn't either. The working class becomes a national entity, confined within national borders and limited to national strategies. Trotsky refuted this narrow view a century ago through his theory of uneven and combined development, which explains that capitalism doesn't emerge uniformly. Still, through conflicts between advanced and backward forms, it creates intense contradictions: “The law of uneven development governs the entire history of mankind.”[4] Capitalism is born, grows, and can only be overthrown on an international scale. Any history that denies this fact is not truly Marxist but nationalist.

The English Revolution and the Pseudo‑Left’s Historical Myopia

The pseudo-left’s view of the English Revolution illustrates the political impact of its approach. Brenner’s Merchants and Revolution (1993) simplifies the Revolution to a conflict between merchants and landlords, removing its revolutionary significance. Heller criticises Brenner on minor aspects but agrees with his broader national perspective.

Yet the historical evidence contradicts this reductionism. Valerie Pearl’s study of London merchants demonstrated that the wealthiest traders — those controlling the chartered companies — were overwhelmingly royalist, while “merchants of the middle rank” tended to support Parliament.[5] Brian Manning further cautioned that allegiance is difficult to establish even for well‑documented groups, complicating any attempt to map class position neatly onto political alignment.[6]

Revisionists seized on bourgeois participation on both sides to deny the Revolution’s bourgeois character. But as Ann Talbot argues, no revolution is “chemically pure.”[7] The English Revolution was uneven, contradictory, and impure — yet revolutionary nonetheless. It shattered feudal structures, opened the path to capitalist development, and demonstrated that political revolution is inseparable from economic transformation.

To deny the revolutionary character of 1640–60 is to deny the revolutionary character of capitalism itself. And to deny that is to deny the revolutionary capacity of the working class today.

The Global Birth of Capitalism

Marx’s description of primitive accumulation challenges pseudo-left nationalism. Capitalism didn’t originate solely in England but developed through various global events: the conquest of the Americas, the Atlantic slave trade, the collapse of Asian economies, the formation of worldwide commodity networks, and European commercial expansion. These weren’t continuous processes; instead, they caused ruptures across the world, exemplifying uneven and combined development at its most evident. Marx clearly depicted these dynamics, stating: “The discovery of gold and silver in America, the extermination, enslavement, and mining of indigenous populations… marked the beginning of capitalist production’s new era.”[8]

The pseudo-left struggles to accept this because it would mean recognising that capitalism’s contradictions are worldwide, which in turn implies that socialism’s conditions are also global. Their nationalism compels them to reject the very processes that Marx outlined. This historical perspective of the pseudo-left inevitably fosters political pessimism. Since capitalism developed gradually and nationally, without deliberate revolutionary action, socialism must follow the same pattern. Heller’s conclusion—that socialism is “centuries” away and should be approached through “experiments in socialism"—represents the logical conclusion of this continuity theory.[9]

This represents a revival of Menshevism, masquerading as scholarly analysis. It dismisses the revolutionary potential by prioritising academic credibility. In contrast, classical Marxism emphasises that capitalism operates as a worldwide system with global contradictions, crises, and the need for a global overthrow. The working class is capable of conscious revolutionary action without any need for experiments, long apprenticeships, or national detours. Conditions for socialism emerge directly from capitalism’s inherent global contradictions, not from pseudo-leftist gradualism.

Conclusion: Reclaiming Marxism from the Pseudo‑Left

The pseudo-left’s historiography on continuity is not only incorrect but also poses political risks. It dismisses the idea of rupture, agency, internationalism, and the revolutionary potential of the working class. Instead of Marxism, it promotes a cautious sociology of incremental change. To truly reclaim Marxism, one must embrace its proper historical method: dialectical, internationalist, and revolutionary. Trotsky’s concept of uneven and combined development offers the most compelling framework for understanding the origins of capitalism and its current crises. It reaffirms what the pseudo-left seeks to erase: the explosive, contradictory, and global nature of historical change. Capitalism’s emergence was not a gradual process but a storm. Its overthrow will not be a peaceful sunset, but a rupture—conscious, international, and revolutionary—driven not by isolated experiments but by the organised power of the working class.

Notes

1. Nick Beams, “Marxism and the Political Economy of Paul Sweezy,” World Socialist Web Site, 7 April 2004.
2. Dominic Alexander, review of The Birth of Capitalism, Counterfire, 2012.
3. Robert Brenner, “Agrarian Class Structure and Economic Development in Pre‑Industrial Europe,” Past and Present, 1976.
4. Leon Trotsky, The Third International After Lenin, Part I, Section 4.
5. Valerie Pearl, London and the Outbreak of the Puritan Revolution (Oxford University Press, 1961).
6. Brian Manning, The English People and the English Revolution (1976).
7. Ann Talbot, “The English Revolution and the Problem of Class,” World Socialist Web Site.
8. Karl Marx, Capital, Vol. I, Chapter 31.
9. Henry Heller, The Birth of Capitalism: A 21st Century Perspective (Pluto Press, 2012).