Newman and Modern Conservatism

The conservative movement is ever in search of intellectual heroes from the past, those to whom we can point as examples to follow. Political conservatives vary in their choice of champions; Plato and Aristotle, Augustine and Aquinas, Burke and Hamilton appeal to different conservatives as thinkers that offer a blueprint for the politics of the day. While the woke insanity of the past decade seems to be a new and novel threat, the current situation is really no more than the consistent continuation of liberalism. Since I can think of no greater modern warrior against liberalism, both in thought and practical action, than the great saint Cardinal Newman, I offer him as an example to join the great ranks who make up the canon of conservative heroes for today.

Near the end of his life, when he was made a cardinal, Newman made his famous biglietto speech, declaring himself a lifelong warrior against liberalism: “And, I rejoice to say, to one great mischief I have from the first opposed myself. For thirty, forty, fifty years I have resisted to the best of my powers the spirit of liberalism in religion.” Newman was an anti-liberal for most, if not all, his adult life. Even before his conversion to Catholicism, before he began to be engaged in the great intellectual controversies within the Church of England, Newman was aware of the growing threat of liberalism. Born in 1801, Newman saw the issue of liberalism rising within religion and society in the 1830s, well before the liberal cultural upheavals of the 1920s and 1960s. Conservatives should pay serious attention to Newman’s thought and his work.

Newman’s biglietto speech gives a crisp, clear definition of liberalism: 

Liberalism in religion is the doctrine that there is no positive truth in religion, but that one creed is as good as another, and this is the teaching which is gaining substance and force daily. It is inconsistent with any recognition of any religion, as true. It teaches that all are to be tolerated, for all are matters of opinion. Revealed religion is not a truth, but a sentiment and a taste; not an objective fact, not miraculous; and it is the right of each individual to make it say just what strikes his fancy. 

While Newman is speaking here of liberalism in religion, there is much to be gleaned from this quotation about the roots and problems of modern liberalism in general.

Newman understood that liberalism’s fatal error is the denial of objective truth. Under this worldview, everything is a matter of opinion, of sentiment, of taste. In an intellectual environment where liberalism reigns, conservatives will lose. The truth of conservatism relies on, well, truth. Conservative doctrines about the dignity of the individual, the importance of the family, the maintenance of tradition and order for the flourishing of society, depend on objective truth claims about what the human person is, how he is made, and what it takes for him to flourish.  Newman understood that liberalism’s fatal error is the denial of objective truth. Tweet This

Liberalism, as Newman understands it, claims that there is nothing intrinsically true about the human person. In an atmosphere where such relativism is accepted, conservative claims cannot be taken seriously as anything other than opinions in a sea of other equally acceptable (and ultimately, equally meaningless) opinions. Liberalism must be fought because its triumph leads to the inability to speak about what is true. If nothing is true, all must be tolerated—except that which makes objective truth claims that exclude the toleration of false ideas. Conservatism cannot win in a liberal environment, and so conservatives cannot ultimately make peace with liberalism. It must be defeated.

How, then, are conservatives to go beyond making arguments in the liberal “marketplace of ideas” and successfully wage a war against liberalism itself? Newman’s life and work serve as a useful practical example. Newman saw liberalism taking institutional root in the church and knew that it was time to fight back. In his Apologia Pro Vita Sua, he offers several insights into the proper way to engage in the battle. 

First, he notes that “[l]iving movements do not come of committees, nor are great ideas worked out through the post…Universities are the natural centres of intellectual movements.” This is not a rejection of the practical in favor of the intellectual. Committees can certainly be useful to address a particular problem; newspaper journalism can sway public opinion in important matters. But Newman’s point is that a “living movement,” a movement that can actually transform hearts and turn the tide against the sweep of liberalism, must go deeper. It must be formed organically, in an environment of like-minded individuals who live together in community.

While there will always be diversity of thought and opinion in any group, there must be a certain essential unity for a movement to succeed: “a common history, common memories, an intercourse of mind with mind in the past, and a progress and increase in that intercourse in the present.” In short, a successful movement requires unity in first principles. The anti-liberal Tractarian movement required a core group of leaders united in their understanding of history, the nature and purpose of the church, etc. in order to create an effective movement that could counter liberalism in the church. Men within a movement can certainly have differences of opinion, but they must have core principles in common to ensure they are talking about and promoting the same thing.

The conservative movement today ought to take this lesson seriously. American conservatism has long been a big tent, populated with libertarians, traditionalists, paleocons, neocons, and more. While there is much to be gained from diversity of opinion and the discourse that follows from it, it is worth questioning how much diversity can be tolerated before the conservative movement loses the ability to be a coherent movement. Sure, conservatives can disagree about tax policy or the proper scope of regulatory agencies. But when factions within the conservative movement disagree about first principles—such as whether the American Founding was good, whether government can ever be good, what is the proper end of the human person, what government is for—it is worth considering whether this thing has become too big and too diverse to be a successful “living movement.” 

Newman understood that a few great intellectuals, united in their shared history and their work within a university, have the ability to generate a powerful cultural movement. Newman’s own work shows the success such a little platoon may have: a few men united in thought and goal, living, speaking, and teaching together, were able to generate a movement that mobilized large segments of the Church of England against liberalism (and generated many Catholic converts in the process).

What does Newman tell us about the practical qualities and tactics necessary to win a war against liberalism? Some of his commentary on his own tactics, as well as those with whom he worked, offers valuable insights on the personal traits, habits, and strategies needed for success. Newman begins his reflections on the core group that became the Tractarians with a memorable point: some of the early leaders of the movement were, in a sense, hampered by their status. Newman comments in particular on Hugh Rose, one of the older, more established leaders, who possessed “a position in the Church, a name, and serious responsibilities; he had direct ecclesiastical superiors; he had intimate relations with his own University, and a large clerical connexion through the country.” Young Newman and his friend Hurrell Froude, on the other hand, “were nobodies; with no characters to lose, and no antecedents to fetter us.”

This observation on politics and human realities is striking in its relevance. Mr. Rose was a great intellectual in Newman’s circle, yet his ability to do what needed to be done was apparently limited. When one has built a reputation, created a deep and influential network, and achieved a high position within a hierarchy, it is hard to say and do what needs to be said and done to accomplish a radical mission. We see this in the modern cancel culture. Speak against the current regime and you may lose your network, your teaching position, your promotion, your friends. While Newman, the promising cleric and Oxford academic, was exaggerating when he called himself a “nobody” at this time, the insight is crucial: when one has not built a reputation and a societal position that one is attached to, it is much easier to wage a war against the establishment that has the ability to take that position away.

Newman reveals another tactical point while speaking of another early figure in the movement. He laments that perhaps the most learned man among the group lacked 

any insight into the force of personal influence and congeniality of thought in carrying out a religious theory,—a condition which Froude and I considered essential to any true success in the stand which had to be made against Liberalism. 

Newman here offers a necessary bit of advice: a successful political movement must bridge the gap between scholar and populist, between the intellectual and the man in the trenches. While intellectuals rightly lament the lack of philosophical depth and principle among government leaders, it is also true that intellectuals must remember the need to use “personal influence and congeniality of thought.” Modern activists like Chris Rufo are correct that it is not sufficient to merely get the argument right; conservatives need to master the art of crafting a narrative and telling a compelling story if they want to win the hearts and minds of the public and bring about effective change. Newman, himself a brilliant, scholarly man, knew that an effective movement needs thinkers, writers, and speakers who can use not only sound argument but also personal touch and congeniality in speech to win others to the truth.

Newman has much more to say about the dangers of liberalism and the ways in which it can be fought. Perhaps it is best to stop here and close with two concluding thoughts. First, the life and times of Newman serve as a reminder about the relatedness of liberalism in church and liberalism in politics and culture. Liberalism in religion is essentially the denial of objective truth. From this, everything from religion to politics to education falls into a battle of power divorced from truth, where everyone holds equally meaningless opinions and the only goal is for one to impose his side’s meaningless opinion on those who hold opposing meaningless opinions. To get to the heart of a conservative restoration of culture, the battle for objective truth is of primary concern.

Second, Newman reminds us that, when we are looking for examples of leadership in these trying times, it is a great blessing to find one who is not only a great and successful strategist but also a saint. From Newman we learn not only the art of waging a successful cultural battle; we gain the insights of a man who valued honesty, integrity, virtue, and holiness above worldly success in the fight. Conservatives need to balance out Machiavellian pragmatism with the reminder that we need virtuous leaders who will not stray from their moral duties in order to win a political contest. The statesman needs the examples not only of great princes and great scholars but of great saints. 

In Newman, we find the example of a saintly man, a shining intellect, and a shrewd strategist. He gives a needed example of forming a movement based on unity in first principles, the will to win, effective tactics, courage in the face of public backlash, and holiness. As conservatives search for effective models in the fight against liberalism, they would do well to read Newman and take him seriously as a man for our times.