Britain is a Bulwark Against Post-Liberalism

Across the pond watching our American friends backslide into a competitive authoritarianism, is in the most British terms "not ideal". In an era marked by the resurgence of authoritarian impulses and the intellectual allure of post-liberal ideologies, it is now imporotant to understand that Britain stands as a crucial, if sometimes flawed, bastion of liberal democracy keeping the flame of liberalism alive even when its historical allies do not.

Britain's enduring commitment to core liberal principles, fortified by a distinctive blend of historical evolution, institutional architecture, and cultural disposition, serves as a historically important bulwark against the democratic backsliding witnessed elsewhere, particularly contrasting sharply with the political currents gaining traction in the United States. While post-liberal critiques questioning the foundations of individual autonomy and universalism find fertile ground across the Atlantic, championed by figures seeking a more communitarian or nationalist order, Britain’s political and social fabric demonstrates a remarkable resilience, rooted in centuries of gradualism, parliamentary governance, and a deep-seated skepticism towards radical upheaval.

The historical foundations of British liberalism are deeply intertwined with the nation’s unique constitutional trajectory. Unlike polities built upon codified, revolutionary charters, Britain’s constitution evolved organically, accumulating safeguards for liberty over centuries. Milestones such as the Magna Carta, asserting limitations on monarchical power, the Habeas Corpus Act, protecting individual liberty against arbitrary detention, and the Bill of Rights of 1689, establishing parliamentary supremacy and fundamental rights, collectively forged a political consciousness profoundly wary of unchecked authority. This incremental development, culminating in the gradual expansion of suffrage, embedded the principles of limited government and the rule of law not as abstract ideals imposed top-down, but as hard-won concessions integrated into the very sinews of governance. The common law tradition further reinforced this pragmatic approach, prioritizing precedent and practical application over rigid ideological frameworks, fostering an environment where rights were understood through their tangible exercise and protection rather than solely through philosophical assertion. The Glorious Revolution, in particular, represented a pivotal moment, definitively rejecting absolutism and cementing Parliament’s role as the ultimate sovereign, thereby cultivating a lasting aversion to concentrated power, whether vested in a monarch, a military junta, or a populist demagogue.

This historical legacy has endowed Britain with potent institutional antibodies against the kinds of authoritarian movements that have periodically threatened liberal orders. The nation’s experience with Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists in the 1930s provides a compelling illustration. While the BUF initially exploited economic hardship and xenophobia, mirroring tactics seen elsewhere in Europe, both institutional and societal responses effectively contained its spread. The Public Order Act of 1936, for instance, represented a calibrated legislative countermeasure, banning paramilitary uniforms and granting authorities power to reroute provocative marches, thereby disrupting the BUF's capacity for intimidation while striving to uphold broader civil liberties. This measured approach eschewed the kind of draconian suppression that can itself undermine democratic norms. Concurrently, the grassroots mobilization witnessed at the Battle of Cable Street, where diverse communities united to physically prevent a fascist march through London’s East End, powerfully demonstrated a societal rejection of extremist ideology. This event symbolized a recurring pattern in British history: a capacity for broad-based coalitions to emerge in defence of pluralism and tolerance when confronted by ideologies perceived as fundamentally alien to the national character.

The institutional architecture of modern Britain continues to provide formidable safeguards against democratic erosion. The doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty, while sometimes critiqued, ensures that ultimate authority resides in the elected legislature, compelling governments to maintain the confidence of the House of Commons. This necessitates a degree of consensus-building and inherently moderates the policy agenda, making it difficult for any executive, however powerful their majority, to unilaterally dismantle constitutional norms or impose radical ideological shifts without legislative consent. Unlike systems where executive orders or judicial fiat can readily bypass legislative hurdles, the British Prime Minister remains fundamentally accountable to Parliament. Furthermore, the independence of the judiciary, significantly reinforced by the Constitutional Reform Act 2005 which established the Supreme Court and reformed the role of the Lord Chancellor, acts as a vital check on executive and legislative overreach. High-profile rulings, such as the Supreme Court’s decision declaring the prorogation of Parliament unlawful in 2019, underscore the judiciary’s willingness and capacity to uphold constitutional principles even when it means confronting the government of the day, a stark contrast to the increasingly politicized judicial appointments and perceived erosion of judicial legitimacy observed in the United States.

Complementing these central institutions, Britain’s system of devolved governance further diffuses power, creating multiple centres of political gravity that inherently resist centralized authoritarianism. The existence of distinct legislatures and executives in Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland, while generating its own set of political challenges related to national unity, undeniably complicates any potential attempt by a single faction in Westminster to impose its will uniformly across the United Kingdom. This dispersal of authority is mirrored, albeit to a lesser extent, at the local level, where councils retain significant responsibilities, fostering a layer of governance closer to communities and potentially more resistant to top-down directives that disregard local circumstances or democratic mandates. This multi-layered governance structure contrasts with more centralized federal systems where power, despite formal divisions, can become heavily concentrated at the national level, potentially increasing vulnerability to capture by anti-liberal forces.

Beyond formal institutions, Britain possesses significant cultural antibodies that resist the allure of post-liberalism and extremism. A deeply ingrained political culture favouring pragmatism and incrementalism over ideological purity acts as a powerful moderating force. Major political transformations, such as the post-war Labour government’s establishment of the welfare state, were profound shifts but were ultimately enacted within the existing framework of parliamentary democracy and the rule of law. They were arguments about the best way to manage a liberal society, not attempts to fundamentally overthrow it. This preference for evolution over revolution is reflected in the persistent failure of extremist parties, from the fascists of the 1930s to the far-right groups of recent decades, to gain any significant parliamentary representation. Even UKIP, despite its considerable negative impact on the Brexit debate, saw its support collapse once its primary objective was achieved, suggesting the electorate’s general aversion to single-issue, radical movements challenging the broader liberal consensus.

The vigilance of British civil society and a diverse, often adversarial, press corps provides another crucial layer of defence. Numerous non-governmental organizations actively monitor extremist groups and challenge discriminatory practices, while media outlets across the political spectrum, despite their own biases and flaws, frequently hold government actions up to scrutiny. The intense debate and legal challenges surrounding the Brexit process, for example, demonstrated the capacity of civil society groups, the legal profession, and segments of the media to demand transparency and accountability, even during periods of profound political upheaval. This ecosystem of scrutiny serves as an early warning system, capable of mobilizing public opinion and institutional checks against potential overreach or democratic backsliding far more effectively than in environments where media is deeply polarized or civil society is weak.

These characteristics stand in noticeable contrast to the vulnerabilities increasingly apparent in the United States. The American system’s rigid separation of powers, coupled with extreme political polarization, often leads to legislative gridlock, which in turn incentivizes executive overreach and fuels public disillusionment. Mechanisms like the Electoral College and partisan gerrymandering can distort the popular will and contribute to a sense of political illegitimacy, creating openings for figures like Donald Trump and J.D. Vance who explicitly challenge liberal norms and advocate for a different, often ill-defined, post-liberal order. Thinkers like Patrick Deneen critique liberalism for allegedly dissolving communal bonds, an argument readily weaponized by politicians promoting a more state-directed social conservatism. While similar intellectual critiques exist in Britain, they are mediated through institutions and a political culture less susceptible to capture by radical anti-liberalism. The January 6th Capitol insurrection starkly revealed the fragility of democratic norms in the US when confronted by a leader willing to transgress them, a scenario almost unimaginable within the framework of British parliamentary accountability and party discipline. While state-level officials ultimately upheld the electoral process in 2020, the event exposed deep fissures and a level of polarization that Britain, despite its own challenges, has largely avoided.

This inherent resilience, woven into the fabric of British political life, found perhaps its starkest historical test during the rise of fascism in the 1930s. The nation's successful resistance to this virulent ideology was not accidental but rather a powerful demonstration of the very institutional and cultural bulwarks that continue to safeguard its liberal democratic character today. Britain’s deeply entrenched parliamentary traditions provided a foundational defence; unlike nations where democratic institutions were newer, weaker, or less legitimate in the public eye, the British system commanded widespread acceptance. Consequently, wholesale critiques of democracy itself, a staple of fascist rhetoric elsewhere, found little purchase within a populace accustomed to centuries of evolving representative governance. This established democratic legitimacy created an infertile ground for movements seeking its overthrow.

Furthermore, the specific configuration of the British political landscape played a decisive role. The Conservative Party, maintaining a broad church appeal across the right and significant sections of the centre, acted as a formidable barrier against fascist encroachment. By effectively occupying the political territory that fascist movements sought to claim, the Conservatives prevented the kind of fragmentation and radicalization of the right witnessed in countries like Germany or Italy, where collapsing conservative parties sometimes made fatal alliances with extremists. This capacity of a major mainstream party to consolidate the right-of-centre ground essentially "squeezed out" fascism from conventional political relevance, a testament to the stability and adaptability of the established party system. The British state, too, demonstrated a capacity for responsive action when confronted with the fascist threat. While initially hesitant, invoking principles of free speech, the government ultimately enacted the Public Order Act of 1936. This legislation, specifically targeting the provocative paramilitary aesthetic of Mosley’s British Union of Fascists by banning political uniforms—the infamous "Blackshirts"—and granting powers to control marches, significantly hampered the BUF's ability to intimidate and project power. The eventual internment of Mosley and hundreds of his key followers at the outset of World War II underscored the state's ultimate willingness to prioritise national security and democratic integrity over the claims of an anti-democratic movement. Even the symbolic landscape offered resistance; where fascist leaders elsewhere sought to embody the nation itself, Britain possessed a pre-existing, deeply rooted symbol of national unity in the monarchy, making it significantly harder for any political figure, particularly one from the fringes, to usurp that position and claim to personify the national will.

Economic conditions also contributed to fascism’s failure to ignite widespread support. While Britain certainly suffered during the Great Depression, its economy proved more resilient and recovered more swiftly than those of Germany or Italy. The extreme economic desperation that fueled mass radicalization in those countries was less pervasive in Britain, thereby diminishing the allure of the BUF’s initially Keynesian-inflected, state-corporatist economic proposals. As the economy gradually improved, the perceived need for such drastic alternatives faded, denying Mosley the fertile ground of enduring mass misery that his continental counterparts so effectively exploited.

Beyond institutional and economic factors, the cultural and social response to fascism proved profoundly significant. The Battle of Cable Street remains an enduring symbol of grassroots, collective resistance. The sight of hundreds of thousands of ordinary Londoners—communists, trade unionists, Jewish residents, socialists, and others—physically blocking the path of Mosley’s marchers through the East End sent a powerful message. It demonstrated a visceral, popular rejection of fascism’s ideology of hatred and division, organised from the ground up even when official sanction for the march remained. This event was emblematic of a broader societal opposition that transcended narrow political affiliations. Anti-fascism in Britain was not solely the preserve of the left; it formed a wide coalition encompassing liberals, concerned conservatives, and numerous civic and religious groups, all recoiling from the BUF’s extremism. This broad front of opposition denied fascism the ability to establish a secure foothold within any significant segment of society.

Ironically, the nature of British fascism itself contributed significantly to its own demise. Oswald Mosley’s BUF, after a period of attracting some initial interest, increasingly degenerated into a movement characterized by thuggish violence at its rallies—notoriously exemplified by the events at Olympia in 1934—and virulent antisemitism. This descent into overt brutality and conspiratorial prejudice alienated many potential sympathizers and solidified Mosley's image as a pariah, outside the bounds of acceptable political discourse. The movement’s failure to grasp the nuances of British society, including regional variations like the specific political and religious dynamics in Scotland, further limited its appeal, revealing an inability to connect with the diverse identities encompassed within the United Kingdom.

In the longer term, cultural shifts further solidified Britain’s resistance. The experience of World War II, framed as an existential struggle against fascist tyranny, profoundly shaped national identity. Victory became inextricably linked with the defence of democracy and opposition to fascism, making it exceptionally difficult for any subsequent movement espousing fascist ideas to credibly claim the mantle of patriotism. Moreover, evolving demographics and social attitudes, particularly the growing comfort with diversity among younger generations raised in a more multicultural Britain, have steadily eroded the racist and xenophobic sentiments upon which fascism traditionally feeds. This ongoing cultural evolution continues to reinforce the foundations of British pluralism.

Therefore, the comprehensive failure of fascism to take root in Britain serves as a powerful historical case study reinforcing the nation's credentials as a bastion of liberalism. It was not merely luck, but the combined strength of established democratic institutions, the stabilising influence of mainstream political forces, a degree of economic resilience, decisive government action when necessary, robust social and cultural opposition rooted in a broad coalition, and the self-destructive trajectory of the fascist movement itself, that preserved British democracy during Europe's darkest decade. The BUF remained a marginal force, incapable of electing a single representative at any level. This historical resistance, stemming from the very factors detailed throughout this essay—parliamentary sovereignty, judicial independence, cultural moderation, societal vigilance—demonstrates an enduring capacity within the British system to withstand ideological assaults on liberal democracy. These same underlying strengths, tested against the fascism of the past, continue to provide a vital bulwark against the contemporary challenges of democratic backsliding and the seductive, yet ultimately corrosive, appeal of post-liberal alternatives.

Britain’s enduring strength as a liberal democracy stems not from immutable perfection, but from an adaptive resilience forged through history and embedded in its institutions and culture. Its unwritten constitution allows for flexibility, while the supremacy of Parliament ensures accountability. Its judiciary retains a high degree of independence, and its society largely maintains a pragmatic aversion to ideological extremes. This intricate combination has, thus far, proven remarkably effective at resisting the siren calls of post-liberalism and the global trend towards democratic backsliding that find more receptive audiences elsewhere. While facing its own serious challenges—including the societal divisions exacerbated by Brexit, persistent economic inequalities, and the pressures on the Union itself—the fundamental architecture and disposition of British political life continue to uphold the core tenets of liberalism. In a world increasingly turbulent and uncertain, where democratic foundations are demonstrably fragile, Britain’s particular synthesis of tradition, incrementalism, and institutional checks positions it as an essential, if often reluctant, bulwark safeguarding the principles of liberal democracy against the rising tide of illiberalism.

We might look across the Atlantic and find a flicker of hope in Winston Churchill’s wry observation: that Americans can always be trusted to do the right thing, once all other possibilities have been exhausted – suggesting that perhaps, even after this troubling exploration of democratic backsliding and post-liberal temptations, the United States too may ultimately discard these perilous alternatives and come back to the Community of Nations. Until then, we will continue to watch and wait, and do our best to ensure that liberalism remains alive and well across the pond.