Stephen Goss: The Glorious Revolution laid the foundations for British liberty. So why does only Ireland remember it? | Conservative Home

Dr Stephen Goss is an historian, policy and research manager, and a Conservative councillor in Reading.

Summer is upon us, and in Northern Ireland summer also means the marching season. For generations the Orange Order’s annual commemorations have been conceived in terms of triumphalism: Protestant victory over Catholics; an inalienable right to parade along traditional routes even if that meant antagonising Catholic communities (most famously Drumcree, which still rumbles on 27 years later).

As usual, this year has seen the odd loyalist community letting itself down. Moygashel in Co. Tyrone was perhaps the most deplorable; there, the annual Eleventh Night bonfire was topped with a small boat full of dark-faced figures representing refugees.

As ever, there has also been harrumphing and efforts by republicans and nationalists to manufacture grievance. Yet, this year’s Twelfth celebrations passed peaceably. Even at the Ardoyne – a particularly bitter interface and traditionally one of the most contentious parade routes in Northern Ireland – the Orangemen marched passed without issue.

That the marching season can go by without serious protest is of course a positive. For while the Twelfth celebrates the victory of Protestant William of Orange over Catholic King James VII & II at the Battle of the Boyne, it is about more significant issues than doctrinal domination.

Commemorating the Twelfth is a celebration of the Glorious Revolution. The deposition of James and his replacement by his daughter Mary and her husband William of Orange as joint monarchs was not simply a coup: it was when parliamentary supremacy was firmly established, when arbitrary rule was rejected, and when the idea that law should be made by elected representatives – not royal decree – was entrenched.

It is too often seen solely through the lens of religion. Yes, it involved Protestants resisting the rule of a Catholic king – but more accurately, it involved Parliament resisting the rule of an absolutist king. This is an important distinction, because while the victory at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690 is celebrated by Protestants, its long-term effect was to create a constitutional framework that would eventually benefit everyone.

James VII & II, though he vigorously pursued Catholic toleration, was no advocate of liberty. He by-passed Parliament, ignored the courts and the law, and packed key institutions with his loyalists. William III (as he became), by contrast, agreed to a constitutional settlement limiting his own powers.

It is thanks to that agreement, enshrined in the 1689 Bill of Rights and the Act of Settlement of 1701, that no government can arbitrarily suspend laws, levy taxes, or maintain a standing army without parliamentary approval. The Bill of Rights is the foundation of the democracy and freedoms we enjoy today. It protects our right to trial by jury, our right to petition the government, and our protection from cruel and unusual punishment. It is why executive authority must always operate within the rule of law, and the reason we cannot be fined arbitrarily.

If you have found yourself with one of those yellow packets on your windscreen for parking in the wrong place, it is the reason you received a ‘penalty charge notice’ – a civil enforcement offering a reduced figure to stop the enforcer taking you to court. Thanks to the Bill of Rights, fines cannot be levied without due process through the courts.

Yet, ask English people (and I am speaking from experience) what the Twelfth is commemorating, and they would struggle to answer. It is shameful that the legacy of the Glorious Revolution is better understood in Belfast and Drogheda than in Birmingham or Derby.

The Museum of Orange Heritage in Belfast is an example of how to present the story of the Glorious Revolution and its legacy. It is not a museum of Protestant triumphalism: it presents a balanced account of the Revolution, exploring its political, religious, and social consequences, and attracts thousands of visitors annually – many from overseas. According to Trip Advisor, it has better reviews than the Irish Republican Museum.

Similarly, the Battle of the Boyne Visitor Centre near the battle site in Co. Louth, welcomes approximately 70,000 paying visitors each year. Run by the Republic of Ireland’s Office of Public Works, it certainly does not offer polemic. It is a place of education, helping visitors understand why the battle mattered and why its legacy is more complicated than the black-and-white narratives which are often assigned to it.

Compare that to England. Revolution House in Chesterfield is the only historic site in this country directly associated with the Glorious Revolution. A Grade II-listed building, it was where three Derbyshire noblemen (two of whom formed the ‘Immortal Seven’) met to discuss inviting William of Orange to oust his father-in-law. It is a tangible link to a moment when England rejected arbitrary government.

I mention it in connexion with this year’s Twelfth because its website asserts it is ‘temporarily closed’. It used to open merely once a fortnight, yet a recent email enquiry reveals that “due to financial constraints, Chesterfield Borough Council has opted to seek a new operator for the building, meaning that, regrettably, Revolution House is unlikely to re-open any time soon”.

Despite its historical significance, they cannot manage to open it twice a month. All that remains is a pair of online videos. The local Collections Officer appears very awkward discussing its significance, and refers to the ‘Revolution of 1688’ – not the Glorious Revolution. In the accompanying video, she spends much more time and appears considerably more comfortable talking about salt cupboards and ‘rushnips’.

I am pleased now to know what ‘rushnips’ are, but if you have a fascination with the contents of 17^th-century kitchens, there are no doubt numerous houses across the country where that interest could be satisfied. Neither she nor the website offers a sense of the house’s historical, let alone contemporary, significance.

In our present age of identity politics, historical commemoration has become increasingly fraught, and the Glorious Revolution, laden with Protestant overtones, is often dismissed as too sectarian to celebrate.

But this overlooks its lasting importance: it delivered our modern constitutional settlement. It curtailed monarchical power, empowered Parliament, and established the foundations of liberal democracy. Though imperfect and not immediately tolerant, it created the framework within which later milestones: Catholic Emancipation, civil rights, and democratic reform became possible.

Remembering 1688 is not an act of academic nostalgia or Protestant triumphalism. It is a recognition of the constitutional bedrock on which our freedoms rest. The Acts that followed entrenched parliamentary sovereignty, judicial independence, regular elections, and a free press – principles that remain vital at a time when social media censorship, state over-reach, and the erosion of open debate once again threaten liberty.

Forgetting the Revolution means forgetting the very mechanisms designed to keep arbitrary government at bay, including the freedom to speak, write, and scrutinise without fear.

This is why ConservativeHome, and those who care about our constitutional heritage, must press Chesterfield Borough Council to re-open Revolution House. If – to their shame – they will not, then it must be transferred to the care of a suitable body such as English Heritage. Re-opened, it must be presented as a centre for understanding one of the most consequential episodes in British and international history – not merely as a charming 17^th-century cottage with incidental links to plotting.

The Glorious Revolution was not perfect, nor was it bloodless. In Ireland it is given the seriousness, visibility, and pride it deserves. It’s about time England did the same.