Inter(esting)Net Elsewhere: Immanuel Wallerstein on Empire and Geopolitics
[A map of the "American Empire" from Double Standards]
Thanks to occasional mentions over at John Protevi’s Blog, I was led to the incisive, large-scale, long-term, and always-thought provoking commentaries on contemporary politics by world systems scholar Immanuel Wallerstein. Analyzing political developments “from the perspective not of the immediate headlines but of the long term,” I found the commentaries to be a breath of fresh air compared to the barrage of (mostly nonsense?) news and punditry that we are fed with in mainstream media, thanks to the depth that Wallerstein brings to the analyses, his erudition (what with his impressive background), and the topics that he endows with an air of pertinence and importance. In this post I set up pointers to some of Wallerstein’s old posts tackling the current state of the world system, with special focus on American power and its insecurities.
Wallerstein starts off his bi-monthly commentaries with his assessments of the state of the major players in the world stage. First, he broaches the question, “How strong is the superpower?” (1998) and analyzes America’s military and economic strength in the context of the populace’s (suffering from the “Vietnam syndrome”) hesitation to use the former and the instability of the latter (where, Wallerstein argues, “The U.S. was at its high point in 1945 and has been on a steady decline ever since”). In later broaching the issue again, Wallerstein downright suggests that “the United States is a hegemonic power in decline” (2001). He specifically means by this that, compared to 1945-1970, where:
Despite the Cold War and despite the U.S.S.R. (or maybe in large part because of them), the U.S. almost always could get what it wanted, where it wanted, when it wanted. It ran the United Nations. It kept the Soviet Union contained within the borders the Red Army had reached in 1945. It used the CIA to oust or rearrange governments it found unfriendly (Iran in 1953, Guatemala in 1954, Lebanon in 1956, the Dominican Republic in 1965, and so on). It imposed its will on often reluctant allies in western Europe, forcing them to pull back from military operations (as in Suez in 1956) or pressing them to speed up the pace of decolonization because the U.S. considered this to be the wiser and safer course),
now, “it is no longer true that the U.S. defines unilaterally the rules of the geopolitical game, nor it is true that it gets its way most of the time simply by political pressure, or even gets its way most of the time.”
Specifically:
The big economic lead the U.S. had over western Europe and Japan disappeared. These countries became economic rivals, although remaining political allies. The U.S. began to lose wars. It lost the war in Vietnam in 1973. It was humiliated by Khomeini in Iran in 1980. President Reagan withdrew U.S. marines from Lebanon in 1982 because over 200 of them were killed in a terrorist attack (and this two days after he had said that the U.S. would never do this). The Gulf War was a draw, the troops returning back to the line where it began. Some people in the U.S. say today this was because the U.S. didn’t have the guts to march on Baghdad (or made the mistake of not doing this). But the decision of the first Pres. Bush reflected a military-political judgment that the march would have led to a U.S. disaster over time, a judgment that seems solid and prudent. And whereas Jimmy Carter could impose a Camp David settlement on Egypt and Israel in 1978, Bill Clinton could not do the same for Palestine and Israel in 2000, although he tried hard enough.
Symbolic of this decline, according to Wallerstein, is the fact that, while, “last time [it was] the U.S. [that] snapped its fingers and got its way was on Sept. 11, 1973, when it engineered a coup in Chile and put Pinochet in power, on Sept.11, 2001, it was bin Laden who snapped his fingers, and the U.S. people and government are still reeling from the blow.”
Wallerstein follows this up later by comparing Japanese and American broadband investments (2007). Noting that “the United States at 4.8 [Internet speed] was fourteen times slower than Japan and at $3.33 twelve times more expensive” (which he explains by the fact that “U.S. corporations today are dominated by a speculative ethos, in which top personnel turnover is constant and buyouts ever on the horizon. This year’s bottom line is all that matters to a CEO who may not be in a position to profit from next year’s bottom line (not to speak of next decade’s bottom line). [Additionally,] the U.S. government is spending all its money on military investment and tax breaks for the very wealthy. There is nothing left over for long-term capitalist investment.”), Wallerstein delivers a punchline conclusion:
This is the way that hegemonic decline builds on itself. The leading country concentrates on the short-term situation, and overinvests in unfruitful military expenditure. Speculation replaces innovation as the source of profits. And before one knows it, the others (in this case the Japanese, but not they alone) speed ahead controlling the technology of the future. This is what the United States did when it was, oh so long ago, an ascending economic power.
Japan’s status (1998) itself–where, in 1992, the world watched out for its success, while, in 1994, the world feared its failure–while at first seemingly ambiguous, Wallerstein claims is, in truth, promising. In fact, Wallerstein goes so far as to assess that “there seems little doubt that Japan (as the wealthiest and most dynamic center of an East Asian economic node) remains today one of the key loci of the world-economy on a par with, and as a rival to, the U.S. and western Europe. This has been constantly true since at least 1970. It is still true today. It will almost surely continue to be true over the next 25 years at least.”
The other big player in the world, of course, (Wallerstein characterizes the dynamics between the three as immersed in a “Kondratieff downturn” (I don’t really know what this means), where, Wallerstein explains, in the last 25 years, “since the global level of capital accumulation has been lower, the entrepreneurs of the three major centers (U.S., western Europe, Japan) have sought to shift the burden of the downturn to each other, and their respective governments have sought to shift the burden of unemployment to each other. The result has been a seesaw for 25 years, in which the U.S., western Europe, and Japan have each had their turns at being momentarily on the top and on the bottom in relation to each other. The 1980’s was Japan’s heyday. The U.S. has been doing comparatively better in the mid-1990’s. In the last phase of the Kondratieff downturn, which is just ahead, it is probably Europe that will do the best. But these are passing advantages.”) is Europe (with Germany in the lead, at least in the economy). Now, Europe’s union (1998), as pointed out by Wallerstein, while supported at first by the US, is now trying to assert itself, in fact distancing itself from the superpower. All this has been made possible, of course, by “the growing economic strength of western Europe, [which led to . . .] the flickerings of a desire by Europeans to cease being automatic adjuncts of the U.S. on the world scene.”
Because of this newly-gained confidence, Wallerstein notes the desire in the continent (by the French mostly) for a “European army built around a French-German collaboration,” which, to be expected, “the United States saw [. . .] as a distinctly bad idea, one which threatened their military dominance via NATO of Western military decisions.” Here, “the Germans were caught in the crossfire, acceding to the French in principle, and slowing down implementation in practice.” Wallerstein sums up the situation in the following way: “There has been a long-term emergence of a relatively unified west European actor, which is actively seeking to create the political mechanisms consonant with its economic strength. And it is quite clear that the major opponent of its emergence is none other than its major ally, the United States.”
Wallerstein points out, however, that while “Western Europe is no more likely to act in altruistic ways on North-South issues than the U.S. , [. . .] the very existence of a multipolar North is ultimately a benefit for countries of the South, since it provides more space for them in which to maneuver and pursue their collective interests.” Europe’s unity and autonomy (from America) may just have benefits for the lesser powers in the world stage.
Going back to the Kondratieff dynamics that Wallerstein described in the Japan commentary, Wallerstein does foresee (after the economic downturn) a Kondratieff upturn, where, so he argues, “the advantage will not be located in some deep-seated cultural difference. It will be straightforwardly capitalist, and go to the one who will produce most competitively. And the secret will be as simple as lower costs.” In that commentary, Wallerstein stresses that the level of remuneration at the top (i.e. the pay that the bosses receive) is the key to lower costs. He then goes on to assess that, seeing as it pays its, shall we say, capitalist bosses, the least, in that sense Japan proves to be the most promising to take advantage of the coming upturn.
However, is it not true that, in the past few years, low costs have been most optimally exploited not by means of the lowering of capitalist (themselves employees (would-be agents) of the capitalist system) remuneration but of the more efficient exploitation of wage differentials–that is, by means of the more intensive exploitation of labor? Is it not true that this has taken place not in Japan–but in China? The country that, along with Russia, Wallerstein paints as a lonely and resentful giant (1998)?
Wallerstein explains that “look[ing] at the world from their eyes, [Russia and China feel that] their faults have been minor to those of the faults outsiders committed against them.” Elaborating, he says:
Russia has felt that it has been treated by other European powers as barbarians, as extra-Europeans – at least for the last 500 years, if not for longer. It feels that Russia suffered a terrible devastation in the Second World War, thereby saving the world from the horrors of Nazi domination, and that this human sacrifice has never been really appreciated by either western Europe or the United States. And today Russia feels that the last pillar of its national pride, its armed forces, is disintegrating. [Similarly,] China [has the same] grievances. Heirs of the Middle Kingdom, China still feels it is the true center of world civilization. It feels it was despoiled by the Western world for at least two centuries. It feels that its national unity is still imperiled, and seeks to recreate the boundaries and glories of yesteryear. It remembers that, only fifty-odd years ago, it was internally ravaged by a devastating Japanese invasion as well as by a civil war. And China remains deeply suspicious of both Japan and the U.S.
The rest of the world, of course, sees history differently. This, however, but leads Russia and China to assert themselves even more. As Wallerstein explains:
These images of Russia and China, self-images and those of others, play a significant role in contemporary geopolitics. They lead Russia and China to insist loudly and repeatedly on their right to have their voice heard and respected, to participate in major geopolitical decisions. These images lead Russia and China to devote a good part of their national product to maintaining and strengthening their armed forces. These images lead them to be willing to defy world opinion, whenever their interests seem to them impinged.
Things, of course, have of late been looking better for these two players. Russia has seen the emergence of a cunning leader (Vladimir Putin) (whose priority, according to Wallerstein, faced as he is with the problems of post-Soviet Russia, is the reestablishment of a strong central state) able to find his way in (both domestic and international) politics and play on bruised nationalist sentiment, while China harbors an overwhelming if latent economic power (due, for the most part, to the exploitation of its labor force) that may just rock the world economic system. These developments give both countries more leverage and confidence to assert themselves (their voice and their interests).
Now, China, of course, as Wallerstein points out, has in modern times been going back and forth between Russia and the United States, torn as it is between its ideological commitments and economic interests–this when China, Wallerstein argues, is the crucial site of capitalist activity (offering “an enlarged zone of capital investment, an enlarged zone of low-cost production, an enlarged consumer market for the new leading industries, and supplementary military strength”) to any would-be economic hegemon of the next many years. China’s own goal, of course, is not to be a mere “peripheral exporter who keep very little of the surplus-value [it] create[s].” Thus, its “put[ting] in place [of] various political mechanisms which will enable [it] to get and keep a larger slice of the world economic pie.”
Despite stressing these external challenges (and despite broaching time and again the paper tiger question), Wallerstein is of the opinion that, as of now–though it is certainly tenuous; we don’t know how much longer it will last–the United States (of America) remains to be the hegemon. In an end-of-the/new year/millenium reflection, he explains the mechanisms of this power–which, surprisingly enough, he posits with the political resurgence of the formerly colonized world. In other words, Wallerstein juxtaposes, as the hallmarks of the twentieth century, two apparently contradictory phenomena: the solidification of American hegemony and the political resurgence of the formerly colonized non-Western world (along with the liberation movements of the 1968 world revolution, which can also be thought of as movements of resurgence–but this time, of oppressed groups inside the realm of the major powers) (2000). Wallerstein describes the two phenomena:
The year 1945 marked the triumphant end of a 70-80 struggle of the United States with Germany to assume the succession to British hegemony in the world-system. At its high point (1945-1960’s), the United States could outproduce any country in the world, had the highest standard of living for its citizens, and obtained its way in the world political arena with ease. It was the strongest military power, and never had to prove it. It managed even to become the world center of cultural activity. Whether as model to emulate or object of fear and repulsion, its centrality in the world-system was universally recognized. The Cold War is not an exception to this, but rather its best confirmation. For the Cold War was a carefully choreographed program of symbolic rivalry hiding underlying collusive arrangements, and a recognition by the Soviet Union that they were unable to challenge the United States directly.
[Similarly, while] the nineteenth century was the century of the final and total political submergence of the non-Western world, the culmination of a process that had begun in the late fifteenth century, [in the twentieth century, things started to turn.] In 1905, Japan defeated Russia. In the years leading up to the First World War, there were “modernizing” revolutions in Mexico, China, Afghanistan, Turkey/Ottoman Empire, Persia, and major political events in India, the Arab world, South Africa, the Philippines, and Cuba. The Russian revolutions (1905, and two in 1917 including and especially the Bolshevik revolution) are best appreciated as part of this upsurge against Western domination of the world.
After 1917, the story goes on uninterrupted throughout the century. The meeting in Bandung in 1955 can be taken as the symbolic moment in which the non-Western world said quite loudly that it had to be taken seriously in world politics. That the non-Western world remains the oppressed two-thirds of the world-system even in 2000 does not mitigate the reality of this resurgence, which can be expected to grow ever stronger in the next hundred years, to the point where in 2100 it will be hard to believe how the world was organized in 1900.
Wallerstein argues that what accounts for the coincidence of these contradictory phenomena (the consolidation of empire and the assertion of the colonized) are the benevolent promises of Liberalism (to the oppressed everywhere, including those in the colonized world), an ideology most closely associated–in fact, identified (what allows it to be legitimated)–with American power. In Wallerstein’s own words:
What was behind U.S. hegemony and the resurgence of the non-Western world up to 1968 was the common belief of the protagonists of both happenings in the litany of hope embodied in the liberal centrist expectation that gradual, state-directed reformism led by experts would somehow bring about the end of economic and social polarities and achieve a democratic, more or less egalitarian world-system.
Problem is, in the last 30 years, there set in a “great disillusionment.” Wallerstein describes that “with the United States in unquestioned hegemonic status and the national liberation movements in power virtually everywhere in Asia, Africa, and Latin America, it began to be obvious in the 1960’s that the expectations of the end of polarities was totally mistaken, that in fact polarization – both economic and social – was steadily increasing, and indeed would become spectacularly greater in the last 30 years of the century. Thus set in the great disillusionment – with the liberal centrist reformism of the world Establishment and with the self-styled revolutionary movements who put forward a similar program clothed in more radical rhetoric.”
This thus led to challenges to the (American-led) world order–the consequences of which we are still living with–and may in fact lead to the undermining of the liberal capitalist consensus itself. One consequence of this that Wallerstein observes is the decline of State legitimacy (2000). Modern state legitimacy being based on (right-wing) patriotism or/and (left-wing) economic reformism, Wallerstein notes that “the heavy loss of lives in the wars began to sour the attractions of patriotic jingoism. And the failures of popular movements, once they had obtained power, to transform the world as they had promised, began to sour the attractions of investing in the state as a mechanism of social transformation.” Thus:
In the last thirty years, there has been a steady disinvestment in the states, everywhere. This can be done in rightwing language, in talk about limiting the intrusion of the state on individual activity. Or it can be done in leftwing language, in talk about the rights of the local against the rights of the nation, in skepticism that anything good can come from states beholden to powerful interests. Whatever the language, the result is a decline in the legitimacy of the states, all the states. And with this decline comes a lowered ability of the states to perform their tasks, which further justifies still further negative views about the state. Hence less voting, less tax-paying, less reliance on the police.
These commentaries by Wallerstein are (to echo John Protevi’s assessment) definitely well-worth the time. One caveat, however. As Deleuzian philosopher Manuel de Landa points out in a footnote of A Thousand Years of Nonlinear History:
Wallerstein’s work [is an important] contribution to the empirical study of emergent structures. [However, there is a] teleology involved in his theory of stages (even though it is an improvement over the linear sequence feudalism-capitalism-socialism) and [he employs an] intensified methodological holism [that] tak[es] as its point of departure [. . .] a top-down analysis [that in fact begins with] a much larger entity than a single society, [namely, the world system]. (283)
This is, of course, in contrast to the methodologically individualist and ontologically holist (that takes as its point of departure the bottom, the small, treating all levels as composed of (intensive) individuals as its make its way to the top) approach inspired by Deleuze.








Roger Cohen of the New York Times argues against the idea of the decline of American power, asserting that, as the current election shows, “The United States remains the most vital, open, self-renewing and democratic society on earth.” He adds, “To imagine that a European Union plagued by self-doubt and existential uncertainty (where are Europe’s borders?), or a China of treacherous internal contradictions, can become powers of influence equal to the United States within the next half-century is implausible. America must work closely with them, but inspiration and leadership are unlikely to come from them.”
Full article here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/31/opinion/31Cohen.html?_r=1
There’s another interesting article in the New York Times that argues for the exact opposite conclusion:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/27/magazine/27world-t.html?_r=2
Certainly, I think it’s undeniable that, in a strict sense, America’s hegemony has declined. They are no longer as dominantly powerful (economically, politically and culturally) as they were even 20 years ago. Despite the fall of the only other superpower, it’s become pretty clear that China and Europe are major players, and that there are major global resistance movements to the American-style socioeconomic system. That being said, America IS still the most powerful actor in the world (and we might more profitably think of ‘actor’ as a form of ‘assemblage agency’, rather than the standard idea of a unitary actor). Cohen’s article seems to me to be premised solely on this fact – at this static moment, American is still the hegemon. Of course, he overlooks the dynamic tendencies occupying the present. Certainly the credit crisis and the Iraq mess are problems for America, but even ignoring those and taking a longer view, it is clear that America’s dominant position is being slowly eroded. Cohen’s only apparent argument against the declinist view (which you referenced above) is that the EU is in existential uncertainty and China has internal contradictions. While true, it is simply absurd to say that these factors limit any sort of major change over the next 50 years. The rapid success/recovery of China, Japan, and Germany, and the decline of the USSR, and Britain all occurred in under 50 years. Moreover, EU’s uncertainty over its borders could prove to be immensely useful given a world increasingly based on deterritorialized flows (of money, people, ideas, etc.). And China’s contradictions (presumably a reference to the rural-poor/urban-rich divide?) could potentially be superseded and prove to be the fuel for a new economic and political revolution there. Cohen’s argument, ultimately, seems rather flimsy to me.
I forgot to mention – that NYT article is apparently from a larger book the author is releasing soon. It looks rather promising, attempting to map out the various geopolitical dynamics of less-publicized areas:
http://www.amazon.com/Second-World-Empires-Influence-Global/dp/1400065089/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1201910892&sr=8-1
Nick,
Yes, the Cohen article is obviously short-sighted. Reading all these mainstream newspaper commentaries makes me wonder why in the world these people got these positions–at the forefront of public discourse (that actually gets read by a wide public (well, wider than philosophers get))–alarms me about the filtering of the discussion that occurs in the public realm. To see that simplistic, short-sighted, and flimsy logic and argumentation get flaunted (and accepted as such) in the press, well it disheartens me about the state of public thought. But at least we get people like Parag Khanna (and articles like the one you cited), right?
Chomsky has in 2006 also written something about the changing world order, specifically about the decreasing dependence of Asia and Latin America to the US. Here:
http://www.chomsky.info/articles/20060315.htm
The Economist’s review of Khana’s book, here:
http://www.economist.com/books/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10917983&fsrc=RSS