Why 1776 matters to modern Britain

There are few things more repugnant to British sensibilities than the cult of the American founding. It conjures up images of pimply college Republicans brandishing their pocket Constitutions, teary-eyed readings of the Declaration of Independence by frock-coated re-enactors, and so forth, all loathsome to a people who have flourished without need of formal constitutional documents.

But Britain is not flourishing in 2026 and we cannot afford to look askance on other countries’ nation-building projects. Nor should we, in the case of the United States, because its history is a part of our own and contains valuable lessons for those looking to reestablish the country on a firmer footing.

The historian James Breck Perkins once observed that the Declaration of Independence was French and the Constitution was English. One was a coup de folie — all Gallic bombast and improvisation — the other a coolly logical exercise in state construction. 

Often overlooked is that these documents came into effect thirteen years apart. And the story of how the Americans went from the Declaration to the Constitution, from France to England, over the course of those years is filled with lessons for the present.

This year is the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, signed in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776. It is also the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the Articles of Confederation, which were commissioned at the same time as the Declaration but enjoy none of its renown. This is odd, as the Articles were the founding governmental structure of the United States, the system intended to effectuate the high-flown principles of the Declaration, and did so for over a decade until they were replaced by the Constitution in 1789.

The reason nobody talks about the Articles is because they were disastrous. Under them the United States government had a single legislative branch, congress, whose presiding officer was also the head of the executive branch. There was no federal judiciary. Neither congress nor its president had any real powers. Congress could not actually raise money. It could only “request” funds from the states — requests which were typically ignored. Congress also had no power over the regulation of commerce which meant that states could and did broker trade deals with foreign powers and impose taxes on the trade of their neighbouring states. Moreover, this hapless system could not be reformed as the articles required unanimity among the states to make even minor changes to them.

The regime imposed by the articles brought the nation to its knees. “The existing Confederacy is tottering to its foundation,” James Madison said in 1787, and few would mourn its passing as it “neither has nor deserves advocates.” “No money is paid into the public treasury,” he continued, “No respect is paid to the federal authority … It is not possible that a government can last long under these circumstances.” His pessimism was shared by George Washington who feared that “without some alteration in our political creed, the superstructure we have been seven years raising … must fall. We are fast verging to anarchy and confusion.”

Not prepared to allow the legacy of 1776 to be national ruin, Madison did something extraordinary: he moved to replace a failing regime with a functioning one. In 1786 he organised a convention in Philadelphia with the loosely-defined purpose of “revising” certain elements of the Articles. Once the convention was in session Madison revealed his true purpose. He did not want to revise the Articles but replace it with a constitution of his own composition.

The story of Madison’s high-stakes political gambit and how it played out in the years between the Philadelphia convention and the adoption of the constitution in 1789 is told in The Framers’ Coup by Michael J. Klarman. A professor at Harvard Law School, Klarman has written not just the seminal account of America’s founding but a classic account of how peaceful regime change can occur. 

In essence, it is a story of a proactive elite faction that acted with forethought and decisiveness while countenancing compromise in pursuit of their goals. 

The crucial elements of Madison’s success, Klarman argues, were threefold. First, Madison recognised the country was in peril and could persuasively articulate what had to be changed and why. 

Second, he was an insider in touch with other insiders. The Federalist bloc he headed up contained some of the most respected and influential men in the largest states of Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts. It also counted among its supporters the most popular man in the country: George Washington, who leant his considerable prestige to the Philadelphia convention by presiding over it. This was not a scrappy band of outsiders but a sophisticated group of high-profile political operators with experience, clout, and determination.

Third, Madison set the terms of debate. He organised the convention on friendly territory, he arrived early to it with a high-powered Virginia delegation to plan strategy with a similarly high-powered Pennsylvania delegation, and he had a plan for total overhaul. Madison had a diagnosis and a remedy, and by moving first he framed the entire issue by reference to his proposed constitution. Madison seized the initiative and forced his opponents to fight on terrain of his choosing. 

Madison certainly had opponents. No system is purely dysfunctional. Even a defective system is functioning for someone: someone wins the contracts; someone enjoys the perquisites of high office; someone enriches themselves through control of patronage networks. There will always be some constellation of interests that will move to defend a broken system from would-be reformers. 

This was true in the case of the Articles. They were working quite well for the states who had vastly more autonomy under them than they have now. They were also working for the large number of Americans who were more interested in preserving private liberty than improving public welfare. Many agreed with Patrick Henry’s assessment that the proposed constitution “squints towards monarchy”.

Besides, what Madison was proposing — a radical centralisation of power in the Federal government at the expense of the states — was unpopular and quite possibly illegal. For that very reason, Rhode Island didn’t even send a delegation to Philadelphia. Many delegates arrived, declared Madison’s project unlawful, and went home. (Two of New York’s three delegates did just that; the third was Alexander Hamilton) To keep the remainder on-side, the Federalists made two major concessions — on slavery and on equal apportionment in the Senate — in order to keep the constitution’s key passages, the Commerce, Supremacy, and General Welfare clauses, intact.

The convention produced a constitution but that document then had to be ratified by state conventions. And a majority of people in the states didn’t want it. Political shenanigans of every kind ensued to force it through. In South Carolina the ratification convention was so heavily gerrymandered that a state with a massive antifederalist majority endorsed the Constitution. In Pennsylvania, a Federalist mob effectively kidnapped two antifederalist delegates so that the convention could reach its quorum and ratify a document that much of the state hated. In some states Federalists expedited the conventions to win early and psychologically important victories. In others they adjourned and delayed conventions to avoid damaging defeats. In Massachusetts the Federalists basically promised John Hancock the presidency under the new regime and when that proved insufficient they made the most significant compromise of all: they guaranteed that in exchange for ratification a Bill of Rights would be appended to the Constitution. Massachusetts ratified. 

Change will not come through some hypothesised revolt in the provinces but from new thinking and new courage inside the existing elite

In fact every state (save for Rhode Island) ratified the Constitution. In many cases it was tight — a three vote margin in New York — but once they had reached the required majority it didn’t matter anymore. The Federalists had triumphed against long odds, the Articles were retired in favour of the Constitution, and the United States went on to become a global superpower.

America in 1776 resembles Britain in 2016. Independence and Brexit were both precipitous acts that unleashed mind-melting passions, created new and unworkable status quos, and produced political conditions “fast verging to anarchy and confusion”. For those looking to rescue the British state, the American example is instructive. Change will not come through some hypothesised revolt in the provinces but from new thinking and new courage inside the existing elite. Change will be unpopular and quite possibly unscrupulously secured. Change will require of its champions a combination of strategic dedication and tactical flexibility. And change will be determined by those who grasp the problem, grasp the solution, and then grab the moment.