The roots of our living tree

Today is the 800th anniversary of the sealing of Magna Carta at Runnymede in 1215. Fittingly, a Magna Carta on loan from Durham Cathedral is currently on display in the National Capital Region, along with its companion Charter of the Forest, as part of a tour of Canada. Canadians should see it if they can, and should certainly reflect on it.

This document comes down to us from the mists of time. The 1300 exemplar now at the Canadian Museum of History is so fragile, it took weeks to unfold for display. Yet, it contains the core rights we still cherish today from due process to security of the person. Moreover, it is the foundation on which our parliamentary, judicial and executive branch institutions were built, often surprisingly early.

Over the coming week, this newspaper will be running a series on Magna Carta, its origins, its development, and current challenges, beginning today with Daniel Hannan’s reflections on the shared values that still bind the Anglosphere together. These commentaries remind us of the importance of understanding our history, because if our constitution is a living tree, it must remain attached to its roots or it will wither and die.

Those roots, to a surprising degree, lie in the Middle Ages. Parliamentary control of the power of the purse, for instance, dates to the very early 15th century; an independent Commons Speaker to the mid-14th. Yet it remains entirely relevant to current difficulties, from securing equal treatment for all to restraining arrogance in high office. And when we have failed to respect rights, for aboriginals, women and others, it is because we have failed the ideals of Magna Carta, not because they failed us.

The language of Magna Carta itself may be impenetrably antique, a Latin shorthand barely comprehensible even then and now entirely obscure. But the principles ring true in every tongue and every era. A woman’s home should still be her castle. Justice should still be impartial and accessible to all. Fundamental law should come from the people, through institutions that hold everyone accountable.

In some sense, anniversaries are arbitrary. Magna Carta was as important three years ago as it will be in 37 years. But they are convenient times to pause and reflect on what truly matters.

We cannot afford to be indifferent to the process whereby the key rights in Magna Carta were developed, preserved and enhanced because if we do not know our story, we cannot play a worthy part in the chapter now unfolding. It will not do parochially to assert that our history began in 1867, or 1982. We inherited liberty under law from the distant past, and with it, the responsibility to preserve it.

On this 800th anniversary of the fateful events at Runnymede, we should stand silent in awe that Magna Carta survived for eight centuries, not just the desperately fragile physical copies handwritten on vellum in oak gall ink, but also the liberties we cherish, at once terribly fragile and extraordinarily robust.

Our freedoms are both fragile and remarkably robust. We need to remember where they came from