Civil Society in a Corporative World

Although the emergence of a democratic political culture has been a central issue for decades, up until this day academics disagree about the fundamental driving forces behind processes of democratization. Already in the 1960s, German philosopher Jürgen Habermas delivered one of the most substantial contributions to this discussion. In his influential study The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere (Habermas Reference Habermas and Burger1989, first published in German in 1962), he claimed that, since the second half of the seventeenth century, Enlightenment sociability provided the necessary social background for the emergence of a civil society and a corresponding public sphere that fostered the development of a democratic political culture. Many historians were inspired by Habermas's historical perspective, but also formulated various critical responses to his theory (Arsan et al. Reference Arsan, Lewis and Richard2012; Eckstein and Terpstra Reference Eckstein and Terpstra2009; Hoffmann Reference Hoffmann2006; Kaviraj and Khilnani Reference Kaviraj and Khilnani2001; Koller Reference Koller2010; van Horn Melton Reference van Horn Melton2001). The research at hand wants to participate in this debate by refining the theoretical framework and by looking at the historical development and democratic character of several seventeenth-century forms of civil society. The relevance of such a theoretic elaboration, even half a century past the first publication of Habermas's study, is beyond doubt because civil society has become a “‘somewhat slippery concept” in recent historiography (Prak Reference Prak2010: 110). A distinction between different types of civil society will be introduced to investigate the democratic character of different forms of sociability more in detail; relate these practices to the various ideological backgrounds of various types of sociability; and unravel the cumulative development of modern civil society.

The present contribution will look at three types of sociability during the early modern period: (1) craft guilds, (2) civic militia, and (3) Enlightenment sociability. These three forms of sociability will be connected to the rise of modern democracy. Current definitions of modern democracy are taken as starting point. Political theorists usually discern two fundamental dimensions of democracy: (1) actual democratic rules and (2) allocation of political rights and liberties. The latter refers to the institutional and legal background of democracy, which protects citizens and attributes them with political rights. Habermas calls this liberal democracy. The former concerns the procedural dimension of modern democracy. It covers the actual accountability of government and the openness toward citizens (Bollen and Paxton Reference Bollen and Paxton2000; Munck and Verkuylen Reference Munck and Verkuylen2002). Following Habermas, it is considered feasible to divide this dimension in two different aspects: republican and deliberative democracy. The republican element emphasizes the participation of citizens in political life, while the deliberative dimension of democracy refers to the circulation of public arguments and opinions. Habermas's theory suggests that these three precursors of modern democracy were each connected to distinct forms of civil society, but Habermas did not explicitly define these forms of civil society nor did he place liberal and the republican democracy in its historical context (Habermas Reference Habermas1994: 1–10; Reference Habermas2006: 411–13).Footnote ¹ The present article wants to historicize these three forms of civil society in the context of the Low Countries, and as such aims at enlarging our understanding of the genesis of modern public spheres, civil societies, and democratic practices (see figure 1). We will show that different types of civil society developed since the late medieval period and formed together a dynamic and diverse civil society.

FIGURE 1. Modern democracy and historical civil societies in the Low Countries.

The central question of this article is how early modern and modern forms of sociability encouraged the rise of a democratic political culture. Indeed, civil societies are often described as schools of democracy, which implies that the rise of modern democracy is the result of a grassroots movement. This central theme is divided into three subquestions: (1) which forms of early modern sociability can be distinguished, (2) did these different forms of civil society develop democratic practices, and (3) what impact had these diverse civil societies on the political system? These subquestions will be investigated by looking at the governmental practices in associations that are often considered as a good operationalization of the concept civil society. Two indicators will be central to our investigation of the democratic character of these associations: the social openness of these organizations and the mutation rate of the board. The political influence of civil society is more difficult to measure, but it is essential to discern weak from strong civil societies. This distinction is derived from Nancy Fraser who rightly argued that associations without links to power structures can be considered weak civil societies. Indeed, a strong public sphere can only exist if civil society is able to influence the decision-making process (Fraser Reference Fraser and Calhoun1992: 132–35). One might argue that strong civil societies can result in stronger democratic governments if these forms of sociability were not entirely controlled by the authorities. The presence of politicians with a background in civil society enables us to estimate the impact of associational life on the political system, on the condition that these people moved from a civil society organization to the urban government, and not the other way round.

Two seventeenth-century cities will be compared to evaluate the role of sociability in the Low Countries during the early modern period. Rotterdam is a good example of a rather small town in the Dutch Republic that experienced a period of exceptional economic growth after the separation from the Southern Netherlands (Lourens and Lucassen Reference Lourens and Lucassen2005). Mechelen can be considered as a typical middle-sized city in the Spanish Netherlands (Klep Reference Klep1981: 354; Kocken Reference Kocken1973: 176). This town faced a demographic decline after the middle of the sixteenth century and was not able to recover from this major blow during the early modern period (see table 1). The division between Southern and Northern Netherlands resulted in a different political and religious context. The religious climate in Rotterdam was rather tolerant, while Mechelen became the center of restoration and Catholicism in the Southern Netherlands. The political framework was also quite different: Rotterdam became one of the major cities of the Dutch Republic, while Mechelen was part of a centralized monarchy (Carlier et al. Reference Carlier, Janssens, Meel, Van Autenboer, Verstrepen, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 149–82; van der Schoor Reference van der Schoor1999: 149–79). One could expect that these different conditions also affected the role of civil society in both urban centers because a firm monarchical rule seems irreconcilable with the rise, or even existence, of independent civil societies.

TABLE 1. Demographical evolution of Mechelen and Rotterdam, 1494–1795

Sources: Klep Reference Klep1981: 354; Kocken Reference Kocken1973: 176; Lourens and Lucassen Reference Lourens and Lucassen2005.

Craft Guilds and Liberal Civil Society

Craft guilds can be considered as a late medieval and early modern form of civil society for three reasons: (1) The meetings of these associations offered plenty occasions for discussions between members. Although guild sociability decreased during the early modern period, the attendance of funerals, religious services, and other official gatherings remained compulsory for the members of most guilds in the Low Countries (Deceulaer Reference Deceulaer2001: 361; Panhuysen Reference Panhuysen2000: 37–40). Moreover, studies of early modern court records and correction books have pointed out that guild members intensively interacted informally, meeting each other in streets, workshops, and taverns (Ortmanns Reference Ortmanns2003: 80–82, 103). The many bans on excessive dancing, drinking, and masquerades likewise suggest that formal and informal guild sociability was ubiquitous (Prak Reference Prak, Roodenburg and Spierenburg2004: 179). Political pamphlets could circulate during such formal and informal meetings, while discussions about political matters could even result in popular protest against the urban and central authorities (Van Elsacker Reference Van Elsacker2000: 158–59). (2) The collective actions of guild members were not always mere responses to infringements of their own personal privileges. Recent research has shown that guilds referred in general to the common good in their political actions. This was, of course, a concept used to achieve certain interests, but the use of this term hints at values that transcended individual goals (Dumolyn and Haemers Reference Dumolyn and Haemers2012: 64–86). (3) The political autonomy of the guilds is the most discussed aspect of these organizations in the context of the civil society debate. Although craft guilds had strong bonds with the urban authorities in the Spanish Netherlands and in the eastern part of the Dutch Republic, the already mentioned role of guilds in middle-class protests points at the independent opinion formation within these corporations (Boone and Prak Reference Boone, Prak, Davids and Lucassen1995; Dekker Reference Dekker, te Boekhorst, Burke and Frijhoff1992; Dumolyn and Haemers Reference Dumolyn and Haemers2005; Prak Reference Prak, Prak, Lis, Lucassen and Soly2006: 93–106). The central and urban authorities certainly tried to control the craft guilds, but the critical—and even rebellious—attitude of the common guild members points at the limits of their influence.

The idea that craft guilds acted as a late medieval and early modern form of civil society is not new. The eminent Belgian historian Henri Pirenne already pointed at the essential political role of the medieval craft guilds in the Low Countries. He did not use the concept civil society, but he argued that the urban guilds fostered a democratic political culture (Pirenne Reference Pirenne1910: 198–205). Some historians were critical about Pirennes's view, but recent studies are more positive and point at the democratic tendencies within craft guilds (Aerts Reference Aerts2010: 209–24; Prak Reference Prak, Prak, Lis, Lucassen and Soly2006; Putnam Reference Putnam1993: 125–26; Van Uytven Reference Van Uytven1962: 373–409). The present article argues that guilds must be seen as a form of liberal civil society according to Habermas's definition. Habermas defined the essence of liberal civil society—which should not be equated with nineteenth-century liberalism—in the following way: “[I]n the liberal point of view the point of a legal order is to make it possible to determine in each case which individuals are entitled to which rights” (Habermas Reference Habermas1994: 3). This definition seems in line with the discourses and the practices of the late medieval and early modern guilds. Heinz Schilling, for instance, argued that rights and duties were at the heart of the political culture of the guilds (Schilling Reference Schilling and Schilling1992: 50). These rights were not the so-called active rights of the republican system, but rather negative rights that protected and privileged guild members. Indeed, early modern guilds did not claim these rights as a form of active citizenship, but protected their members against other individuals and groups in society. It is no coincidence that guilds made large efforts to defend these rights in court (Deceulaer Reference Deceulaer, Boone and Prak1996: 171–208; Prak Reference Prak, Boone and Prak1996: 255–79). The political rights connected with guild membership were usually acquired during the period of late medieval guild revolts as a mechanism to defend guild members against the corruption and the mismanagement of the urban patricians (Dumolyn and Haemers Reference Dumolyn and Haemers2005: 386–87).Footnote ² From this perspective, the guilds offered their members negative rights.

Although the history of the craft guilds received a great deal of attention during the last two decades, only a limited number of studies dealt with the political role of the guilds. However, some authors tried to look at the guilds as civil society organizations (Aerts Reference Aerts2010: 209–24; Prak Reference Prak2010: 107–36). Maarten Prak, for instance, concluded that historians should distinguish three geographical regions in the Low Countries. In the Spanish Netherlands certain guilds had acquired far-reaching political rights, which ensured them of a number of seats in the urban benches of aldermen. The guilds also had political rights in the eastern part of the Dutch Republic, but here they had to share political power with other grassroots associations, such as neighborhood organizations. The situation was totally different in the western part of the Dutch Republic where the guilds were excluded from political influence (Prak Reference Prak, Prak, Lis, Lucassen and Soly2006: 86–106). Remieg Aerts claimed from a modern perspective that the presence of strong guilds did not foster democratic developments in the Low Countries during the nineteenth century because the guilds acted as an early form of civil society and prevented the spread of more modern associations during the nineteenth century (Aerts Reference Aerts2010: 233–36).

A comparison of the guilds in Mechelen and Rotterdam reveals the great differences between different regions in the Low Countries. The late urban development of Rotterdam—in comparison with Mechelen—resulted in a delayed development of the craft guilds. Indeed, the oldest guild in Mechelen was already mentioned in 1254 while the first traces of a craft guild in Rotterdam date from 1427 (van der Schoor Reference van der Schoor1999: 53; Van Uytven et al. Reference Van Uytven, De Laet, Van Autenboer, Eeman, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 53). This different chronology, which is typical for the development of the Northern and Southern Netherlands, also revealed itself in the political rights of guilds members. These political rights were the outcome of the urban revolts of the thirteenth and fourteenth century in urban centers of the Southern Netherlands (Dumolyn and Haemers Reference Dumolyn and Haemers2005: 374–77). The late foundation of craft guilds in Holland was responsible for the absence of far-reaching political rights. Indeed, craft guilds founded after 1400 were unable to claim far-reaching privileges (Prak Reference Prak, Prak, Lis, Lucassen and Soly2006: 81–83).

Some craft guilds in Mechelen acquired access to the bench of aldermen during the fourteenth century and were allowed to exercise control of the urban finances (Van Uytven et al. Reference Van Uytven, De Laet, Van Autenboer, Eeman, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 59–63). These political rules are typical examples of liberal rights, which had the intention to protect citizens from corruption and repression (Dumolyn and Haemers Reference Dumolyn and Haemers2005: 372–75). The craft guilds of Rotterdam never obtained similar political rights because they simply did not exist at the time of the fourteenth-century craft revolts. Paradoxically, the democratic character of the boards of the guilds was reduced in the Southern Netherlands after they acquired political rights. Indeed, a limited group of rich guild masters monopolized the guilds’ seats in the benches of aldermen. Maarten Prak argued that the guilds in both Northern and Southern Netherlands were dominated by rich elites, but he also had to admit that empirical evidence remains scarce. Prak referred to eighteenth-century mutation rates about the guilds for Amsterdam, but he could not produce similar data for the Spanish Netherlands (Prak Reference Prak, Prak, Lis, Lucassen and Soly2006: 94–106). Bibi Panhuysen and Harald Deceulaer calculated mutation rates of the deans of the tailors’ guilds in Ghent (Spanish Netherlands) and Amsterdam (Dutch Republic), which are comparable, but it is dangerous to extrapolate information about one specific guild to (all guilds in) the entire city (Deceulaer Reference Deceulaer2001: 353; Panhuysen Reference Panhuysen2000: 52–58). Indeed, the mutation rate for a tailors’ guild in eighteenth-century Amsterdam amounted to 7.1 years, while this was 3.5 years in Ghent, but Panhuysen also calculated that an average guild dean served 7.1 years in eighteenth-century Amsterdam. Unfortunately, similar data about the Spanish Netherlands are unavailable, except some sporadic evidence about particular guilds (Prak Reference Prak, Prak, Lis, Lucassen and Soly2006: 101).

Data on guild boards in Mechelen and Rotterdam enable us to compare the political practices in craft guilds in the Dutch Republic and the Spanish Netherlands during the seventeenth century.Footnote ³ Although information was available for 15 guilds in Mechelen and 32 guilds in Rotterdam, we collected information about 11 comparable guilds, which were present in both cities.Footnote ⁴ The sample contains the names of the deans of these guilds for a period of five years.Footnote ⁵ The data show that the deans in Mechelen occupied their office twice as long as their Rotterdam colleagues. A dean in Mechelen served 2.2 years on average, while this number amounted to 1.1 in Rotterdam. An independent samples t-test shows that this difference is statistically significant and represents a strong effect.Footnote ⁶ The sample for Mechelen contained guilds with access to the bench of aldermen and guilds without such political rights. A second independent samples t-test was carried out to eliminate the effects of the privileged guilds. The differences between both cities became smaller after we removed in our sample for Mechelen the guilds with representatives in the bench of aldermen. An average career lasted in Mechelen 1.9 years while the figures for Rotterdam were unaffected because no guild had access to the urban magistrate. However, the differences between both cities remain statistically significant and the effect of the city on the career length was again large.Footnote ⁷ A comparison of the guilds with and without political power in Mechelen confirms that the mutation rate—this is the average number of political mandates per person—in the board was higher in guilds with legally guaranteed political power.Footnote ⁸ We can conclude that the concentration of power was higher in guilds with formal access to the urban bench of aldermen. This confirms earlier ideas about the oligarchic effects of guild democracy in the Spanish Netherlands.

Mutation rates provide an indication about the democratic level of guild life, but they are not the only way to measure the nature of the political practices in civil society organizations. A comparison of the names of the guild deans and the heads of households in taxation lists offers information about the social openness of the guilds’ boards in Mechelen and Rotterdam.Footnote ⁹ Only a limited number of names could be identified in these fiscal sources; the guild deans in Rotterdam were especially difficult to find in the taxation lists. This is probably an indication of their lower social position in comparison to Mechelen. Table 2 shows that the guilds’ boards in Mechelen were more social exclusive than in Rotterdam. Although some prudence is in order because of the low numbers, the chi-square shows that the differences between the two cities are significant. Again, the data suggest that the guilds in Rotterdam were more democratic because of their social openness. Table 3 indicates that the higher social position of the guild deans in Mechelen was due to the political influence of some guilds. The guilds without representatives in the urban bench of aldermen were less social restrictive.

TABLE 2. Social position of the guilds’ deans in Mechelen and Rotterdam during the second half of the seventeenth century (5-year samples)

Sources: CAM, no. K-S-V-1-2, MAR, nos. 1.01-2041–1.01-2046, MAR, no. 1.01-4166; Joosen Reference Joosen1960 –63, 1979–84.

Chi-square (3) = 12.75; p < 0.01.

TABLE 3. Social position of the guilds’ deans in Mechelen (1646–1650)

Sources: CAM, no. K-S-V-1-2; Joosen Reference Joosen1960–63, 1979–84.

Chi-square (2) = 13.27; p < 0.01.

The data on the mutation rates and the social openness of the craft guilds indicate that positions of power were not concentrated in the hands of a few people. This points at the (relative) democratic character of these organizations. The internal organization of civil societies can reveal processes of democratization, but it is also important to look at the ability of these organizations to defend their interests in political institutions. Historians have already showed how craft guilds tried to achieve their goals by writing petitions to the urban, provincial, and central government(s). However, the available information does not provide us with clear-cut indicators. Henk van Nierop and Maarten Prak described the tradition of petition writing as a typical feature of the political culture in the Dutch Republic, but several sources suggest that petitions were also frequently used by the craft guilds in the Spanish Netherlands (Prak Reference Prak, Lucassen and Willems2009: 72–78; Van Nierop Reference Van Nierop and Blickle1997: 284–90). The Antwerp craft guilds, for instance, submitted 1,422 petitions between 1586 and 1616. This number dropped to 1,146 petitions between 1646 and 1676, but remained impressively large (Deceulaer Reference Deceulaer, Boone and Prak1996: 190–92). Data for Mechelen make clear why the number of petitions directed to the urban authorities dropped in the Spanish Netherlands during the early modern period. The craft guilds shifted their attention from the urban to the central government. While the guilds directed one-third of their petitions to the central government during the sixteenth century, this share rose to almost two-thirds of all petitions in the eighteenth century (Installé Reference Installé1982).

Complete urban petition books are not available for Mechelen, but the guild archives prove that they tried to influence the urban government in this city. The brewers’ guild, for instance, submitted at least 52 petitions to the urban and central authorities during the seventeenth century. A comparison with Zierikzee, a town of 10,000 inhabitants in the Dutch Republic, makes it easier to interpret these figures. The bakers’ guild of Zierikzee submitted 18 petitions during the seventeenth century, only the shippers were more active with 32 petitions (Remmerswaal Reference Remmerswaal2006: 195–97). In a larger city, such as Utrecht, the craft guilds presented 28 petitions to the urban authorities during the first half of the eighteenth century, which means that most guilds only submitted a single petition during the entire period (van der Weide Reference van der Weide2010: 39). This is a modest figure in comparison with the 978 petitions presented by the Antwerp craft guilds to the urban authorities during the period from 1706 until 1736 (Deceulaer Reference Deceulaer, Boone and Prak1996: 190).

The petitions give an indication of the political activity of the guilds, although these numbers are difficult to interpret. Do high numbers of petitions indicate that guilds were quite influential, or do they point to the opposite situation? Therefore, the number of petitions should be complemented with other data. The moving on from board members to the bench of aldermen can reveal the real political impact of the guilds. This indicator is also in line with the idea that civil societies are schools of democracy. According to this view, civil societies stimulate democratic practices because they motivate members to participate in the board of these organizations. The mutual trust among citizens is also enlarged by the cooperation in the context of these civil societies (Putnam Reference Putnam2000: 19–26). This also implies that good and successful civil societies prepare citizens for political participation in the community. This can be measured by looking at the career of the deans of craft guilds. A sample with the names of all deans from 16 craft guilds show that 16 percent of all deans in Mechelen moved from the guilds to the bench of aldermen (calculation based upon Joosen Reference Joosen1960–63, 1979–84; Van den Eynde Reference Van den Eynde1859).Footnote ¹⁰ This is a modest percentage because the urban privileges stipulated that half of all aldermen had to stem from the craft guilds. However, this is a relative high figure in comparison with the share of 1 percent in Rotterdam in the years between 1666 and 1670.Footnote ¹¹

Civic Militia and Republican Civil Society

The civic militia are a second form of early modern civil society that will be discussed. These organizations also had the three basic characteristics of a civil society: (1) The civic guards were not just military organizations because they were also centers of urban sociability. Foreigners were surprised by their rich dinners and drinking feasts; the officers of the guards even had to promulgate certain rules to avoid drunkenness. The practice grounds of the civic guards were meeting points for burghers and the privileges of the civic guards even offered several occasions for duty-free drinking. However, the guards also assembled to discuss serious political matters (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 271–311). (2) The civic guards were institutions that defended the general interests of the community. It is for this reason that humanist Hadrianus Junius described the civic guards as “the strength and nerves of the Dutch Republic” in his Batavia (1588). The common good was also a central concept in the ideology of the civic guards (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 38, 354). (3) The relation between the urban authorities and the civic guards was often a point of discussion. Urban governments often contributed in the financial costs of the civic guards and were closely associated with the official organization of these institutions. However, the civic guards played a crucial role in urban revolts and were never intimidated by the power of the urban magistrates. They even refused to take their official oath before the urban aldermen if this would jeopardize their political neutrality. In fact, the financial and administrative relation between urban authorities and civic guards was never an impediment for the civic guard's independence. For this reason, they compared themselves with the tribunes of the plebs in ancient Rome (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 32–34, 193, 354–57; Prak Reference Prak1991: 78).

Other authors also argued that the civic militia were a form of early modern civil society. Adam Ferguson, the author of the famous essay History of Civil Society (1767), described civic militia as important manifestations of civil society (Geuna Reference Geuna, Van Gelderen and Skinner2002: 184). Maarten Prak more recently pointed out that the civic guards claimed that they represented the entire urban community and should be considered as civil society organizations. City-dwellers referred to the civic guards as “the citizens,” which suggests that they were identified with the urban community (Prak Reference Prak2010: 117; Unger Reference Unger1892: 1, lix). Prak also argued that citizens used the civic guard as an institution to form and ventilate their personal opinions and interests. The influence of the civic militia in Holland was, according to Prak, a compensation for the limited political role of the craft guilds in the western part of the Dutch Republic. In sum, the civic militias formed the early modern civil society par excellence in Holland (Prak Reference Prak, Lucassen and Willems2009: 76–78). Some authors even argued that these civic militia propagated democratic values. However, Paul Knevel stated in his study of the early modern civic militia in Holland that this democratic tendency was rather limited. The civic guards often advocated a more open urban government and a restoration of the old rights and privileges of the citizens, but they never strove for full democratic rights (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 362).

The civic militias are a good example of a republican civil society, following Habermas's definition, because they propagated active participation in political life (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 362–63). Habermas stressed the importance of this type of civil societies because republican civil societies encouraged individuals to become members of the political community (Habermas Reference Habermas1994: 1–9; Reference Habermas2006: 412). This active participation of citizens in the political life refers to the so-called concept of vivere civile, which is an essential element in classical definitions of republicanism (Pocock Reference Pocock2009: 56–57). This idea of the vita activa was crucial in the work of republican thinkers, such as Machiavelli and others, and they usually included a plea for the erection of civic militia because these organizations allegedly reflected about the participation of citizens in one of the crucial tasks of the political community: the protection of the inhabitants (van Gelderen Reference van Gelderen, Bock, Skinner and Viroli1990: 208–9). Other prominent republican thinkers, such as the already mentioned Adam Ferguson, saw the civic militia as a school for republican virtues as well (Geuna Reference Geuna, Van Gelderen and Skinner2002: 184).

This discourse of active participation distinguished the civic militia from craft guilds, which emphasized the different judicial status of members and outsiders (Prak Reference Prak, Boone and Prak1996: 261–76). The militia did not stress this distinction and did not highlight the importance of their rights and privileges either. The civic guards in the Dutch Republic and the Spanish Netherlands primarily reminded citizens of their duty to actively protect and defend their community. People who were not able to join the civic guards had to pay a sum of money or were bound to present a legal document that ensured that they were not able to participate in the militia (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 194–200; Romer Reference Romer1979: 28–29). The importance of this civic duty was in the following way formulated by an unknown defender of the Mechelen civic militia: “It seems that buying off the civic militia and the civic duties not only brings along the entire destruction of the five civic guards, but it also has other dangerous consequences.”Footnote ¹² Privileges were less important, with the notable exception of the right to drink duty-free beer in their meeting room (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 297).

It is significant that the civic militias are not incorporated in the historiography about the Southern Netherlands. The scarce references historians have made to the civic guards usually emphasize their role as defenders of the monarchical rule. This is remarkable because the shooting guilds are considered as an expression of civic culture in the Southern Netherlands during the late medieval period (Arnade Reference Arnade1997: 313–17). The Antwerp shooting guilds, for instance, refused to act against the participants of the iconoclasm in 1566 (Marnef Reference Marnef1996: 129). They also came in conflict with the urban government during earlier revolts, such as the upheavals of 1555, and Charles V severely punished some members of the Antwerp shooting guild in the aftermath of this revolt (Kint Reference Kint1996: 242–43). This tradition of resistance did not end with the Dutch Revolt. The Antwerp civic militia also refused to use violence against citizens during seventeenth-century upheavals (Houben Reference Houben2004: esp. ch. 7). The evidence about Mechelen is less abundant, but the civic militia were involved in several rebellious episodes during the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries (Installé et al. Reference Installé, De Nijn, Put, Verstrepen, Van Autenboer, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 214; Marnef et al. Reference Marnef, Mertens, Van Autenboer, Eeman, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 131–37). It seems that the role of the civic militia in the Spanish Netherlands was comparable to the function of the civic guards in the Dutch Republic (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 323–67).

The resemblances between the civic guards in the Spanish Netherlands and the Dutch Republic were the outcome of a shared historical background. In the first place, the civic militia went back to the late medieval shooting guilds. These organizations gradually arose in the coastal regions of the Southern Netherlands as religious fraternities with defensive tasks. The oldest history of these organizations is not very clear, but in Flanders and Brabant they certainly existed from the thirteenth century onward. It took a century before similar corporations with defensive tasks emerged in the Northern Netherlands (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 19–25). The exact relation between these civic militia and religious confraternities is not entirely clear, but the religious activities of the shooting guilds prove that they were at least influenced by the older tradition of lay confraternities (Trio Reference Trio1994: 99; Van Autenboer Reference Van Autenboer1993–94: 60–62). Indeed, these shooting guilds were generally named after saints or devotions, maintained an altar, actively participated in processions, and organized masses (Van Dijck Reference Van Dijck, Terpstra, Prosperi and Pastore2012: 158–63; 176–79).

The night watch, another important function of the early modern civic guards, goes back to the urban neighborhood organizations of the late medieval period. These grassroots organizations were erected at an early stage of the urbanization process and organized the participation of citizens in the urban community. Although Mechelen was much older than Rotterdam, the Mechelen sources only mention these kinds of organizations since the beginning of the fifteenth century. At the end of the fourteenth century, the urban authorities still paid six people to preserve the city from all danger during night. These guards literally watched over the city because they were stationed in the towers of the parish churches.Footnote ¹³ The wages of these guards disappeared in the urban accounts during the fifteenth century. It seems that the urban government became convinced that the night watch was a task of all citizens. The aldermen did not interfere with the organization of this guard, although they stipulated that households had to pay a fine to the neighbors when they failed to provide someone for the night watch. The text of the same ordinance makes clear that the practical organization of civic duties was a prerogative of the neighborhoods.Footnote ¹⁴ The urban government of Rotterdam did not pay fireguards during the fourteenth century: All inhabitants had the same, shared responsibility on this matter. An agreement between urban authorities and citizens (1371) divided the urban territory in four neighborhoods, which had to organize the night watch (cf. Marnef et al. Reference Marnef, Mertens, Van Autenboer, Eeman, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 130–73; van der Schoor Reference van der Schoor1999: 42–49).

The shooting guilds were abolished during the sixteenth century because of their involvement in the Dutch Revolt, but the authorities quickly re-established these organizations. This resulted in a reorganization of the shooting guilds according to the military model and a junction with the existing night watches. The corporative tradition of shooting guilds based on selective membership and the republican tradition of urban guards organized by the more inclusive neighborhood organizations were united in one new organization. The civic guards became a neighborhood-based organization with a military structure (Knevel Reference Knevel1994: 92–107). The shooting guilds were able to survive in the Spanish Netherlands. Religious associations, such as the shooting guilds, were not in line with the new religious situation in the Dutch Republic. This was not the case in the Spanish Netherlands, where a revival of all forms of religious fraternities fit well into the political, social, and religious framework of the Catholic Reformation (Black Reference Black2004: 88–100; Van Dijck Reference Van Dijck2003: 25–52). The shooting guilds became an elite section of the civic militia and the officers of the shooting guilds were in command of the other guards who did not belong to these fraternities.Footnote ¹⁵ This new role of the shooting guilds is a surprisingly neglected subject in the historiography about the Spanish Netherlands. Most authors see the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century shooting guilds as superfluous and purely trivial associations (Van Autenboer Reference Van Autenboer1993–94: 645).

The organization of the shooting guilds and the civic militia bore resemblances with that of other corporations, such as craft guilds. The shooting guilds also organized an annual meeting to elect new deans by plurality of votes and to control the accounts of the past year. These elected board members were not only in charge of the shooting guilds but also directed the civic militia.Footnote ¹⁶ Although the urban ordinances stipulated that the burgomasters of Mechelen formally supervised the board of the shooting guilds, a legal file from 1642 shows that it was often difficult to impose this formal supervision in practice.Footnote ¹⁷ It seems that the formal control of the urban authorities was more a matter of checks and balances than a direct hierarchical relation. This does not mean that the urban aldermen were powerless because they had the right to appoint the chiefs of the shooting guilds just as the urban government in Rotterdam appointed the higher officers of the civic militia from their own ranks (Unger Reference Unger1892: 1, lv). These higher officers were not in charge of the administration of the guilds, but they were involved in important decisions (Van Melckebeke Reference Van Melckebeke1874: 9–10).

The names of 50 deans of the Mechelen shooting guilds and the names of 54 lower officers of the Rotterdam civic militia were used to calculate the mutation rates of the boards of these organizations.Footnote ¹⁸ An independent samples t-test shows that the average term of an elected board member significantly differed in both cities and represents a strong effect. The average was 1.1 in Mechelen while this amounted to 2.3 in Rotterdam.Footnote ¹⁹ The low mutation rate in Mechelen points at a more democratic political culture in the Spanish Netherlands, although the mutation rate was also quite low in Rotterdam. The social profiles of the deans and officers offer further information about the democratic character of these organisations. Table 4 shows that the richest quarter of the population dominated these offices in both cities. The data point at small differences between the social background of the deans and officers in both cities, but the share of the richest and the lowest quartile are similar. The chi-square proves that the differences in the second and the third quartile are not big enough to be statistically significant.Footnote ²⁰

TABLE 4. Social position of the deans and officers of the civic militia in Mechelen (1634–1654) and Rotterdam (1660–1669)

Sources: CAM, no. E-S-I-1, f° 425r°-427r°, CAM, no. K-S-V-1-2; MAR, no. 1.01-4166; Van Melckebeke Reference Van Melckebeke1874: 50–55; Reference Van Melckebeke1879: 40–42; Unger Reference Unger1892.

Chi-square (3) = 5.52; p = 0.14.

The shooting guilds, just like craft guilds, submitted petitions to the urban authorities. Quantitative data about the number of petitions are not available, but the civic militia regularly communicated with the urban government about their demands. The civic guards in the Dutch Republic were, for instance, important political pressure groups during the turbulent years at the end of the eighteenth century (Prak Reference Prak1999: 71, 265). Less is known about the political role of the civic militia in the Spanish Netherlands, but several authors have pointed at petitions submitted by the shooting guilds (Kint Reference Kint1996: 168–69; Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2008: 24). Unfortunately, it is impossible to evaluate the communication between shooting guilds and urban authorities in this city because these kinds of sources are not available. However, it is possible to look at the move from board members of the shooting guilds to the bench aldermen.Footnote ²¹ Our sample of deans of the Mechelen shooting guilds shows that 9 percent of these board members moved later to the bench of aldermen, the nonelected chiefs not included. This figure is higher in Rotterdam. In this city 20 percent of the lower officers moved from the civic militia to the urban magistrate (Unger Reference Unger1892).

Enlightenment Sociability and Deliberative Civil Society

Enlightenment sociability is the last form of civil society that will be discussed in this contribution. These associations are generally seen as a complete break with the past and most authors regard them as the oldest forms of civil society. It is for this reason obvious that Enlightenment sociability met all conditions of classic definitions of civil society. (1) Face-to-face relations were an essential feature of these social relations, which took place in new social venue's such as salons, operas, literary associations, and coffeehouses (van Horn Melton Reference van Horn Melton2001: 1–2, 12–13, 162). (2) The voluntary nature of these social relations was also an essential characteristic. Several authors have stressed that shared interests—and a commercial culture driven by consumer preferences—formed the essence of the new sociability of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries (van Horn Melton Reference van Horn Melton2001: 160–91, 244–47; Wilson and Yachnin Reference Wilson, Yachnin, Wilson and Yachnin2010: 1–2). (3) The participants in this new sociability did not only share a certain political conviction or cultural taste, but they also aimed at a common good: civilization. This moral project was the defense of a particular culture—bourgeois culture—which was legitimized by an Enlightenment discourse of moral edification and progress (Finlay Reference Finlay2006: 27–49; Hoffmann Reference Hoffmann2006: 2–3, 16, 26–28; Mah Reference Mah2000: 156–63).

Enlightenment sociability is usually seen as the starting point of deliberative democracy. This implies a civil society with an emphasis on discussions between citizens, which are able to influence the policies of political institutions (Habermas Reference Habermas2006: 412–13). Historians, in the wake of Habermas, usually refer to the discussions about political events in coffeehouses, salons, debating societies, and opera houses, but they also point at the discussions about art and taste in the same social venues (van Horn Melton Reference van Horn Melton2001: 2–9; Wilson and Yachnin Reference Wilson, Yachnin, Wilson and Yachnin2010: 1–2). Recent studies have challenged the unique position of this Enlightenment sociability. Several historians point at earlier forms of civil societies and public spheres during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, while others look at the resemblances between corporatism and Enlightenment sociability (Garrioch Reference Garrioch, Eckstein and Terpstra2009: 313–26; Lake and Pincus Reference Lake and Pincus2006: 270–92; Vermij Reference Vermij1999: 24–46). Indeed, one can question the novelty of these seventeenth- and eighteenth-century social venues. Following Habermas, most authors stress the importance of coffeehouses and the like, but other social settings also offered plenty of opportunities to discuss the matter of the day. Rhetoricians, for instance, discussed all kinds of social conditions at their meetings and in their plays (Bloemendal and van Dixhoorn Reference Bloemendal and van Dixhoorn2010: 22–26; Van Bruaene Reference Van Bruaene2008: 115–18). Taverns were another social context that facilitated such discussions. It is certainly no coincidence that an eighteenth-century pamphlet, published in Mechelen, did not situate the political discussions about the French Revolution in a coffeehouse, but in a traditional tavern (Anonymus 1793: 4).

A comparison of Enlightenment sociability in Mechelen and Rotterdam confirms once more that both cities were part of different regions with distinct cultural traditions. Indeed, Enlightenment sociability hardly developed in the Spanish Netherlands before the nineteenth century, while such associations already appeared in the Dutch Republic during the seventeenth century (Frijhoff and Spies Reference Frijhoff and Spies2000: 216–25). It is illustrative that Amsterdam had more than 30 coffeehouses around 1700 while a major city in the Southern Netherlands, such as Antwerp, only had five similar institutions (Kloek Reference Kloek2001: 117–20; Van Aert Reference Van Aert2009: 35). A middle-sized town such as Mechelen only counted one coffeehouse at the end of the eighteenth century.Footnote ²² Not only were coffeehouses omnipresent in the Dutch Republic, historical research has shown that no European region had more Enlightenment associations than the Dutch Republic (Kloek Reference Kloek2001, 113–17). The situation was totally different in the Southern Netherlands where such organizations were extremely rare. Reading clubs were, for instance, a curiosity in the southern part of the Low Countries, while these associations were very popular in the Dutch Republic at the end of the eighteenth century. Several cities in the Southern Netherlands had a literary club during the second half of the eighteenth century, but popular reading clubs were quite exceptional and only existed in five cities (Delsaedt Reference Delsaedt and Pauwels2004: 91–103; Van Uytven Reference Van Uytven1992: 60). In Mechelen, the first literary society only appears in 1785, while similar organizations already existed a century earlier in Rotterdam (Installé et al. Reference Installé, De Nijn, Put, Verstrepen, Van Autenboer, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991: 208–9; van der Schoor Reference van der Schoor1999: 338–39). Historians counted at least 300 reading clubs in the Dutch Republic at the end of the eighteenth century (Kloek Reference Kloek2001: 116).

This large number of reading clubs fits in the publishing culture of the Dutch Republic. The Northern Netherlands became the leading center of the printing press in early modern Europe (Baeten and Van Zanden Reference Baeten and Van Zanden2008: 220). The principal role of the Dutch publishers was not only reflected in the number of printed books, but also in the innovative and progressive ideas published in these books (Israel Reference Israel2002: 118, 149, 308). The contrast between the Southern and Northern Netherlands is quite well expressed by the spread of an edition of the Encyclopédie published by the Société typographique de Neuchâtel. Only a few copies were sold in the Low Countries, but the reasons for this limited number of sales were diverse in the northern and the southern part. While the Dutch publishers had already printed their own version of the Encyclopédie, their colleagues in the Southern Netherlands were only interested in religious works according to the representative of the Société typographique de Neuchâtel. Brussels was the only exception to this pattern (Darnton Reference Darnton1979: 310). However, the role of the printing press should not be exaggerated. The central, provincial, and local authorities in the Dutch Republic censored books with revolutionary or unconventional political and religious thoughts. The government did not tolerate books, which could cause any kind of domestic discussions (Groenveld Reference Groenveld, Duke and Tamse1987: 80–81). A similar policy characterized the meetings of the Estates-General in The Hague. The political contents of these gatherings only reached the public by accident because the members of the assembly had to pledge an oath of secrecy. Most journals contained some details about the number of representatives and the public rituals, but no information was given about actual political debates. Political meetings were closed for the public in the Dutch Republic, just as in other states in early modern Europe (Koopmans Reference Koopmans2005: 392–95).

A comparison between the Spanish Netherlands and the Dutch Republic can be very brief because the first forms of Enlightenment sociability gradually appeared in Mechelen during the last quarter of the eighteenth century. Most new associations were only founded after 1800 (Installé et al. Reference Installé, De Nijn, Put, Verstrepen, Van Autenboer, Vlieghe and Van Uytven1991). Jori Zijlmans showed that informal discussion clubs already existed in Rotterdam since the second quarter of the seventeenth century. Three of these associations will be discussed in the following section, namely the theological discussion club around David Guilbertus, the Erasmian circle around bookseller Frans van Hoogstraten, and the Quakers’ company “The Lantern” organized by Benjamin Furly. These three associations talked about more or less deviant ideas in the context of an informal circle of friends. Enlightenment thinking did not influence the meetings around David Guilbertus, but the two other organizations discussed secular subjects, such as the radical ideas of Baruch Spinoza.Footnote ²³ The nature of their ideas shows that their meetings were free of political control. The size of these informal associations was rather small, each of them had 20 to 25 members who did not attend all meetings. These informal circles did not have a clubhouse, such as craft guilds and civic militia, but they met in the residence of the central figure of the association (Zijlmans Reference Zijlmans1999). It is not possible to calculate mutation rates of the members of the board because these informal organizations lacked a hierarchical structure.Footnote ²⁴

The names of 64 members of these Rotterdam associations are known. Only ten of these names were found in the taxation list of 1665. This is a limited number, but these data can give an indication of the social position of these people. It is clear that these new associations recruited in the higher social strata. Half of the identified persons belonged to the richest quarter of the Rotterdam population. None of them was situated in the lowest quartile of the taxpayers.Footnote ²⁵ This is hardly a surprise because most studies stress the elite character of the new seventeenth- and eighteenth-century sociability (Hoffmann Reference Hoffmann2006: 17; van Horn Melton Reference van Horn Melton2001: 11–12). The Rotterdam associations also withdrew from public life and retired in the privacy of domestic houses. The ideas that circulated in these societies were certainly of importance for the rise of modern democracy, but the direct political impact of their members was rather limited. Only 3 of the 64 members moved from associational life to the bench of aldermen; one person came from the urban authorities to associational life. This means that only 5 percent of the members migrated from civil society to political power (Zijlmans Reference Zijlmans1999: 198–201), which is a small proportion compared to the craft guilds and civic guards in Rotterdam. Earlier forms of civil society were better schools for democracy compared to these Enlightenment associations.