There are at least two ways of thinking about the elemental nature of liberty. In Western civilization, the original way of thinking about about liberty was that it was solely a function of self-governance. The Greeks were responsible for this. If the people were in charge of their government, they could be said to enjoy liberty, or freedom. Annelien de Dijn makes the case that the second way of thinking about liberty only came about much later, in response to the Atlantic revolutions of the late 18th century. It was counterrevolutionary, and thereby reactionary. Her book makes an originalist argument in favor of the former, and against the latter.
Is her argument persuasive? Strangely, not so much. In fact, I came away from reading her book feeling a lot more antagonism towards radical democratic politics, and with greater sympathy to the idea that liberal ends and democratic means are a necessarily delicate balancing act. One might say, then, that she has failed in her effort. But I see it just the opposite. As a scholar, she has delivered a set of competing views to her readers that are not so cherry picked as to make a farce of one argument or the other. In that sense, she has written a decent primer on the subject at hand.
Two parts of the book I found to be really interesting were the discussions of natural rights and of the evolution of liberal politics, from law-focused to economic-focused. De Dijn downplays the import of natural rights to changing ideas about liberty in the 17th and 18th century, but what she does write about how they were variously conceived suggests there was room for greater elaboration in her book. As for liberalism, today in American politics it holds almost has no meaning. It is less descriptive than it is a catchall political label. But liberal politics in the West have a rich history and the story is well told in this book, even despite de Dijn's leftist derision towards their elite proponents. And though she never mentions neoliberalism, you can very clearly from her discussion draw the link between an earlier economics-driven liberal politics and what has been called neoliberalism for the past four decades.
Her scholarly expertise is 18th century France and it shows. Her history of Rome is broad and rather one-sided. There's little nuance to her discussion of the Populares. That said, in its grand sweep, the story of both ancient Greece and Rome is not without interest. When it comes the the politics of the United States, however, her explications can feel rather thin. She is heavily party focused, often mentioning that this or that social movement had a party briefly or fielded a presidential candidate. There can be a tree-forest issue with such analysis, though the presentation of the always hard-to-pin-down American Whig party was admirable.
Overall, I would say that this book does a pretty decent job of capturing some of the difference in thinking about liberty on both sides of the Atlantic. Readers with a strong social democratic bent will find that de Dijn's argument is roundly reflective of a European way of seeing the world. She chooses not to confront a Marxist-Soviet ideology that actively sought to export communist revolution throughout most of its history, and downplays its implications for the resurgence of a focus on the protection of individual rights. That said, she is very aware of the many competing European traditions, especially in England, that have shaped an American society with a more acute focus on the preservation of individual rights and a greater skepticism of government power than Europeans enjoy. (c) Jeffrey L. Otto, June 4, 2021