President Barack Obama is having a bad time. The health
reforms he so confidently promised have been bogged down in Congress for
months; his Defense Secretary, Robert Gates, said the other day that the pledge
to close the Guantanamo Bay prison camp by January 2010 would take longer to
fulfill; Obama’s top general, Stanley McChrystal, appeared to break military
discipline by openly demanding forty thousand extra US troop for the Afghan
War, warning his commander-in-chief that otherwise the mission would fail; the
award of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize to President Obama brought more scorn and
disbelief than congratulations and encouragement; it generated an odd unity of
purpose between the Left and the Right, his erstwhile supporters and bitter
adversaries out to destroy his young presidency; and two decades after the
United States defeated its superpower adversary, a resurgent Russia made plain
that sanctions against Iran over its suspicious-looking nuclear program were
not acceptable to Moscow.
History is full of contradictions between what American
presidents offered and could deliver. Upon the ratification of the United
States Constitution in 1789, President George Washington spoke of ‘the eternal
rules of order and right’ and ‘the preservation of the sacred fire of liberty’
in his inauguration address. In fact, American Indians and black slaves were to
endure white oppression for a further 200 years. Two and a half centuries ago,
history recorded that Abraham Lincoln abolished slavery in 1865. In truth,
re-enslavement occurred quickly under different laws and slavery was to persist
for another century.
In the early twenty-first century, many humans continue to
live in extreme poverty and squalor in America and around the world, for which
forces of globalization and free trade are responsible. Workers on meager wages
and in unsafe conditions produce goods for the United States and other Western
societies. In contravention of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, these
men, women and children are modern-day slaves.
There are many examples that illustrate the limits of power
of the mightiest. John Tirman in his book 100
Ways America is Screwing Up the World says, “When Harry Truman and Joseph
Stalin kicked off the Cold War, they probably did not realize what a long game
it would be.” More than four decades and many ruinous conflicts later, the
Soviet empire collapsed. American triumphalism did not last long, either. By
the end of the presidency of George W Bush, the most bellicose of the
neoconservative generation had acknowledged the limits of American power and
the talk of America’s ‘exceptionalism’ had become muted. The sense of
vulnerability dwarfed claims of America’s status as the global hyperpower, with
much of the insecurity emanating from the ruins of conflicts during and after
the Cold War. It was a hollow victory.
John F Kennedy, in his inaugural address in 1961, pledged to
“pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose
any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.” Yet the
Central Intelligence Agency was in close liaison with the South Vietnamese
generals who staged a coup in November 1963 and executed the nationalist
president, Ngo Dinh Diem, three weeks before President Kennedy was himself assassinated.
Over the next 12 years, the military rulers of South Vietnam
ran a brutal, corrupt and incompetent regime. America bombed areas bordering
the South, then throughout Cambodia, between 1969 and 1973. King Sihanouk of
Cambodia was deposed in a pro-US coup by General Lon Nol, whose brutal regime
fell to communists in 1975. America, a nuclear superpower, with the capacity to
obliterate its adversaries in Indochina withdrew its forces from the region,
wounded. The region fell under communist rule.
Jimmy Carter ordered the CIA to channel secret American aid
to the Mujahideen in Afghanistan to fight the pro-Soviet Marxist regime.
America’s covert intervention in the Afghan War thus began well before the
Soviet military invasion of Afghanistan in December 1979. The evidence
gradually came to light several years after the Soviet Union had retreated from
Afghanistan following a decade of brutal occupation and the Soviet state’s own
demise. America’s proxy force of the Mujahideen left a trail of brutality of
its own. It had been kept wrapped in a CIA-inspired official misinformation
campaign as long as the Soviet occupation army was there.
The cover was blown no sooner than the Soviets had gone home
and the Afghan battlefield was engulfed in a new round of civil war. It gave
birth to an even more extreme form of political Islam represented by the
Taliban and al Qaeda, a phenomenon that directly led to the 9/11 attacks on the
United States. Afghanistan showed how a historic conquest turned into a
catastrophe.
In the case of Afghanistan after 9/11, the Taliban were
removed from power barely five weeks after the US-led coalition went to war in
October 2001. The achievement of the narrow aim to oust the Taliban from the
Afghan capital so quickly led to claims of a perfect war. Writing in Foreign
Affairs, Michael O’Hanlon described Operation Enduring Freedom as “a
masterpiece of military creativity and finesse.” It was assumed that al Qaeda
had been deprived of its sanctuary, meeting sites, weapons production and storage
facilities. The regret was that the Taliban and al Qaeda leaders got away. The
folly of this Pentagon-nurtured view of Afghanistan, and later Iraq, came to
haunt in subsequent years.
On being an empire
Humans by nature are expansionist. They want more. Plato’s
Republic, written around 380 b.c.,
has a dialogue between Socrates and Glaucon about civilized society. They
discuss how societies develop from primitive to higher levels of civilization;
trades and occupations multiply and populations grow. The next stage of the
dialectic, according to Socrates, is an increase in wealth that results in war,
because an enlarged society wants more for consumption. Plato’s explanation is
fundamental to the understanding of the causes of war even today. This is how
empires rise, military and economic power being essential to further their
aims.
Nearly two and a half millennia later, Michael Hardt and
Antonio Negri offered a Marxist vision of the twenty-first century in their
book Empire. Their central argument
in the book, first published in 2001, was that globalization did not mean
erosion of sovereignty, but rather a set of new power relationships in the form
of national and supranational institutions like the United Nations, the
European Union and the World Trade Organization. According to Hardt and Negri,
unlike European imperialism based on the notions of national sovereignty and
territorial cohesion, empire is a concept in the garb of globalization of
production, trade and communication, with no definitive political center and no
territorial limits. The concept is all pervading, so the ‘enemy’ must now be
someone who poses a threat to the entire system -- a terrorist to be repressed
by police force. Written in the mid-1990s, Empire
got it right, as events a few years later would show.
The United States occupied a privileged position in Empire depicted by Hardt and Negri.
However, America’s privileges did not arise from its “similarities to the old
European imperialist powers.” Its privileges derived from its differences,
otherwise described as American exceptionalism. From the early days of its
formal constitution, the founders of the United States had believed that they
were creating “a new Empire with open, expanding frontiers,” where power would
be distributed in networks. More than two centuries later, the idea emerged on
a global scale. The presidency of George W Bush was a powerful militaristic, if
crude and disastrous, attempt to impose America’s will on the rest of the
world.
Like terrorism, the term ‘empire’ is often used
disparagingly by those on the Left and the Right. The emergence of the United
States and the Soviet Union as the two greatest powers after the Second World
War offered contrasting examples. Advocates of each accused the other of being
an empire, meaning a large population comprising many nationalities in distant
territories living under subjugation or exploitation.
In fact, different concepts of empire have existed
throughout history. For many centuries, the term referred to states that
considered themselves successors to the Roman Empire, but later it came to be
applied to non-European monarchies such as the Empire of China or the Mughal
Empire. Most empires in history came into being as a result of a militarily
strong state taking control of weaker ones. The result in each case was an
enlarged, more powerful political union, before its eventual decline.
The dissolution of the Soviet bloc in the late 1980s and
early 1990s was a blow against the idea of maintaining an empire by brute force.
Suddenly, the floodgates opened for rapid globalization and expansion of the
markets to places that had previously been in the Soviet domain. Capitalism
could reach where it had not been before, from newly independent countries in Eastern
Europe to Soviet-style economies in Asia and Africa. Two decades on, the West
was to hit the most serious crisis of its own since the Great Depression, due
to a combination of impudence after its victory in the Cold War, false sense of
moral superiority and belief in its power to destroy and recreate nations at
will.
The Norwegian scholar, Johan Galtung, regarded as the father
of conflict and peace studies, said in 2004 something that is a fitting
definition of the term empire. He described it as “a system of unequal
exchanges between the center and the periphery.” An empire “legitimizes
relationships between exploiters and exploited economically, killers and
victims militarily, dominators and dominated politically and alienators and
alienated culturally.” Galtung observed that the American empire “provides a
complete configuration, articulated in a statement by a Pentagon planner.”
“The de facto role of the United States Armed Forces will be
to keep the world safe for our economy and open to our cultural assault. To
those ends, we will do a fair amount of killing.”
This confession is as revealing as it is extraordinary.
Economic interests and cultural domination are closely interwoven in imperial
thinking, driven by its simplistic logic. Imperial powers are expansionist by
nature, always inclined to enlarge territories they control. What lies behind
their ambition is access to more and more resources -- energy, minerals, raw
materials and markets to trade. Imperial behavior dictates a great power to
expand its domain of direct control or influence by military or other means to
new territories that have resources and a certain cultural symmetry with the
center. The greater this symmetry, the better.
Culture and
consumption
To appreciate the relationship between economic interests
and cultural symmetry, culture has to be understood as a broad concept. E B
Taylor defined culture as “that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief,
art, morals, law, customs and many other capabilities and habits acquired by . .
. [members] of society.” Culture is the way of life which people follow in
society without consciously thinking about how it came into being. Robert
Murphy describes culture as “a set of mechanisms for survival, but it also
provides us with a definition of reality.” It determines how people live, the
tools they use for work, entertainment and luxuries of life. Culture is a
function of homes people live in, appliances, tools and technologies they use
and ambitions.
It is, therefore, possible to conclude that culture is about
consumption in economic terms. Culture defines patterns of production and
trade, demand and supply, as well as social design. In Moscow, the old Ladas
and Wolgas of yesteryear began to be replaced by Audi, Mercedes and BMW cars in
the late twentieth century. The number of McDonald’s restaurants in Russia rose
after the launch of the first restaurant in the capital in 1990. In Russia,
China and India, luxury goods from cars to small electronic goods and jeans are
fast becoming objects of passionate desire for the growing middle classes,
despite grinding poverty affecting vast numbers of citizens. Following the
US-led invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, sales of American brands in Kabul and
Baghdad increased. These trends form an essential part of the theme that
defines societal transformation and, at the same time, represents a powerful
cause for opposition.
The hegemon flaunts its power, but also reveals its
limitations. It invades and occupies distant lands, but cannot end opposition
from determined resistors. Economic interests of the hegemon and the way of
life it advocates are fundamentally interlinked. The hegemon claims superiority
of its own culture and civilization at the expense of the adversary’s. Its own
economic success depends on the exploitation of natural and human assets of
others. The hegemon allows political and economic freedoms and protections
enshrined for the privileged at home. Indeed, the hegemon will frequently buy
influence by enlisting rulers in foreign lands. Rewards for compliance are
high, but human labor and life are cheap in Third World autocracies.
The costs of all this accumulate until their sum total
surpasses the advantages. Military adventures require vast amounts of money. As
well as hemorrhaging the economy, they drain the Empire’s collective morale as
the human cost in terms of war deaths and injuries rise. Foreign military
expeditions tend to attain a certain momentum. But a regal power is unlikely to
pause to reflect on an important lesson of history -- that adventure leads to
exhaustion. Only when the weight of liabilities -- economic, political and
moral -- moves the citizenry to abandon the cause does it mean that defeat may
be near.
Deepak Tripathi is the author of “Overcoming the
Bush Legacy in Iraq and Afghanistan” (Potomac, January 2010) and “Breeding
Ground: Afghanistan and the Origins of Islamist Terrorism” (also Potomac, April
2010). He can be reached at: DandATripathi@gmail.com.