"I enjoyed your essay on Morton, Ariel. It occurred to me that the context of Morton's first piece in November 1949 and its emphasis on 'national development' was, as well as European Communism, also that of the Atlee government's nationalization of the 'means of production, distribution and exchange' - the coal, iron and associated industries, the railways, the Bank of England, and the adoption of central planning for growth, against which a reactionary Catholic Church preached in its social teaching, as did, typically more ambiguously, the hierarchy of the Church of England, still very much 'the Tory Party at prayer', though in its parochial clergy probably more aware of the depth and extent of economic misery.
The second is more interesting. Edwards, and others, were engaged in a refurbishment of the history of the Catholic Church in the light of Vatican II and the emergence of 'liberation theology', which at least in the 'Third World' (as it was then called) supported left-wing or radical social and political reform movements. All such ideas were marginalized by John Paul II, and especially Benedict XVI, and Pope Francis has been opposed vigorously (and ironically) by an alliance of reactionary US and African cardinals and senior clergy in trying to resurrect a more subtle version of liberation theology. However, the 'Catholic turn' to which Morton was at least partly sympathetic in his second essay, has continued in historiography. It particularly bedevils Shakespearian scholarship, where it tries to make Shakespeare more 'relevant' to the contemporary world by concocting arguments that he was a subversive Catholic radical, opposed to the tyranny of the regnum cecilianum - in other words it reproduces the characterization of the Elizabethan and Jacobean regimes spread by contemporary polemicists like Robert Persons and William Allen, and fits Shakespeare into that mould, which takes a lot of pushing and shoving."
Glad you liked the piece Glyn, and thanks so much for your perceptive and extremely helpful comments. I don't know enough about post-World War II British history so this is really valuable and much appreciated context.
The turn towards liberation theology among certain Marxist historians was something I was aware of through the second appendix to Christopher Hill's book on the English Bible (1992). But I'd never followed it up. Looking at it again, Hill thanks Marcus Rediker for pointing him in this direction. Another reader has suggested that Morton might have know members of 'Slant' or 'New Blackfriars'; publications which facilitated Catholic-Marxist dialogue. He too wonders if the change in Morton's thinking came about because of the rise of Liberation Theology.
So lots for me to think about and explore. Thanks again.
Professor Morton seems to have been a cynical but eloquent propagandist for the Communist Party, simply trimming his sails to whatever the prevailing breeze may have been. It was a bit much to stomach is references to the "democracies" of Poland and Hungary in the 1960s or to take the laws on their books tolerating religion at face value. Surely he knew better.
Your side-by-side presentation of his two essays make it clear Morton was a talented and intellectually agile mouthpiece for the Party. Is it only your good manners, having given in lecture in his honor, that prevents you from being frank about Professor Morton's unscrupulous partisanship?
Thanks for your perceptive and thought-provoking observations Chris, it's greatly appreciated. Prior to delivering my lecture I had read some of Morton's work but knew little about the man beyond the bare outline of his life. Since then I've had the opportunity to explore the wider contexts that underpinned his writings in much greater depth (including going through the archive of his papers in the Marx Memorial Library in London as well as the relevant secret service files held in the National Archives).
What's fascinated me is that, unlike some of his Marxist intellectual contemporaries, he stayed loyal to the Communist Party after the suppression of the Hungarian Revolution and the invasion of Czechoslovakia. Indeed, there was huge discontent among Communist intellectuals in Western Europe in 1956-57. Jean-Paul Sartre, for example, denounced Soviet intervention while in England the historians Edward Thompson, and John Saville left the Party. In the wake of a dispute over internal Party 'democracy' (a so-called 'minority report') they were eventually followed by other scholars such as Christopher Hill. But like Eric Hobsbawm, Margot Heinemann and a handful of others, Morton remained. Indeed, one newspaper at the time denounced him as a Stalinist intellectual.
Hobsbawm, who is more famous than Morton and about whom books have been written, is perhaps even more interesting - in that the carefully constructed version of his conduct and beliefs at the time of the Hungarian Revolution and which presented subsequently with an eye to posterity (for example in his autobiography), deliberately conceals what he is reported to have said at the time by other Party members. It is, as might be expected, self-serving and self-exculpatory.
So with regard to 'Morton's unscrupulous partisanship', yes displaying good manners was, I felt, entirely appropriate under the circumstances. But that said, in the extended version of my paper (which I hope to have finished by the New Year) I will certainly call it as I see it.
Glyn Parry writes:
"I enjoyed your essay on Morton, Ariel. It occurred to me that the context of Morton's first piece in November 1949 and its emphasis on 'national development' was, as well as European Communism, also that of the Atlee government's nationalization of the 'means of production, distribution and exchange' - the coal, iron and associated industries, the railways, the Bank of England, and the adoption of central planning for growth, against which a reactionary Catholic Church preached in its social teaching, as did, typically more ambiguously, the hierarchy of the Church of England, still very much 'the Tory Party at prayer', though in its parochial clergy probably more aware of the depth and extent of economic misery.
The second is more interesting. Edwards, and others, were engaged in a refurbishment of the history of the Catholic Church in the light of Vatican II and the emergence of 'liberation theology', which at least in the 'Third World' (as it was then called) supported left-wing or radical social and political reform movements. All such ideas were marginalized by John Paul II, and especially Benedict XVI, and Pope Francis has been opposed vigorously (and ironically) by an alliance of reactionary US and African cardinals and senior clergy in trying to resurrect a more subtle version of liberation theology. However, the 'Catholic turn' to which Morton was at least partly sympathetic in his second essay, has continued in historiography. It particularly bedevils Shakespearian scholarship, where it tries to make Shakespeare more 'relevant' to the contemporary world by concocting arguments that he was a subversive Catholic radical, opposed to the tyranny of the regnum cecilianum - in other words it reproduces the characterization of the Elizabethan and Jacobean regimes spread by contemporary polemicists like Robert Persons and William Allen, and fits Shakespeare into that mould, which takes a lot of pushing and shoving."
Glad you liked the piece Glyn, and thanks so much for your perceptive and extremely helpful comments. I don't know enough about post-World War II British history so this is really valuable and much appreciated context.
The turn towards liberation theology among certain Marxist historians was something I was aware of through the second appendix to Christopher Hill's book on the English Bible (1992). But I'd never followed it up. Looking at it again, Hill thanks Marcus Rediker for pointing him in this direction. Another reader has suggested that Morton might have know members of 'Slant' or 'New Blackfriars'; publications which facilitated Catholic-Marxist dialogue. He too wonders if the change in Morton's thinking came about because of the rise of Liberation Theology.
So lots for me to think about and explore. Thanks again.
Professor Morton seems to have been a cynical but eloquent propagandist for the Communist Party, simply trimming his sails to whatever the prevailing breeze may have been. It was a bit much to stomach is references to the "democracies" of Poland and Hungary in the 1960s or to take the laws on their books tolerating religion at face value. Surely he knew better.
Your side-by-side presentation of his two essays make it clear Morton was a talented and intellectually agile mouthpiece for the Party. Is it only your good manners, having given in lecture in his honor, that prevents you from being frank about Professor Morton's unscrupulous partisanship?
Thanks for your perceptive and thought-provoking observations Chris, it's greatly appreciated. Prior to delivering my lecture I had read some of Morton's work but knew little about the man beyond the bare outline of his life. Since then I've had the opportunity to explore the wider contexts that underpinned his writings in much greater depth (including going through the archive of his papers in the Marx Memorial Library in London as well as the relevant secret service files held in the National Archives).
What's fascinated me is that, unlike some of his Marxist intellectual contemporaries, he stayed loyal to the Communist Party after the suppression of the Hungarian Revolution and the invasion of Czechoslovakia. Indeed, there was huge discontent among Communist intellectuals in Western Europe in 1956-57. Jean-Paul Sartre, for example, denounced Soviet intervention while in England the historians Edward Thompson, and John Saville left the Party. In the wake of a dispute over internal Party 'democracy' (a so-called 'minority report') they were eventually followed by other scholars such as Christopher Hill. But like Eric Hobsbawm, Margot Heinemann and a handful of others, Morton remained. Indeed, one newspaper at the time denounced him as a Stalinist intellectual.
Hobsbawm, who is more famous than Morton and about whom books have been written, is perhaps even more interesting - in that the carefully constructed version of his conduct and beliefs at the time of the Hungarian Revolution and which presented subsequently with an eye to posterity (for example in his autobiography), deliberately conceals what he is reported to have said at the time by other Party members. It is, as might be expected, self-serving and self-exculpatory.
So with regard to 'Morton's unscrupulous partisanship', yes displaying good manners was, I felt, entirely appropriate under the circumstances. But that said, in the extended version of my paper (which I hope to have finished by the New Year) I will certainly call it as I see it.