Civilization on Steroids: Inside the Mind-Logic of the Devouring Empire

Artwork by Nick Schauer.

For hundreds of thousands of years, the concept of “surplus” was relatively unknown. People worked to feed themselves and their own families, hunting, foraging, herding and practicing shifting agriculture. They did not, generally, work themselves to the bone; rather, since food was easy to come by, they saw no reason to hoard it.

It was the “social cage” of the alluvium that gave birth to a new beast: civilization. The lush world of the silty river floodplain promised a natural surplus; all who settled along its banks could prosper almost without trying. But like all conveniences, it came at a price: a series of emerging dependencies and closing escape routes locked people into fixed relationships, hierarchies, and cycles of exploitation unlike anything that had been seen before. For the first time in history, power relationships became permanent institutions, backed by coercive force. A new class of bureaucrats, soldiers and landowners freed themselves from the responsibility of feeding themselves, in order to administer to the social management of their kingdom. The rest of the population picked up the slack in the form of taxes, indentured servitude and corvée labor, producing not only enough to feed themselves and their families, but also now to feed the infrastructure of the world’s first institutionalized governments.

Surplus, and the labor that produced it, were the fuel for this new social engine. Professor James C. Scott calls it the “grain and manpower module”. Without it, the administrative infrastructure that defined civilization would surely collapse. From the very beginning it relied on exploitation. And along with concentrated surplus came the need to protect the bounty from raiding outsiders — which means you had to define your boundaries.

In those days, the world was not yet carved out and divided. Tribes may have had loose territorial boundaries, and settlements may have fortified themselves against nearby rivals or raiders; yet, much like the concept of a “food surplus”, a surplus of land was a strange idea. The world’s first nations were merely single city-complexes, typically ringed by walls for protection. The city’s soldiers may have patrolled nearby trade routes to ensure the safe passage of goods, or to charge tolls; or there may have been occasional forays into the hinterlands to battle thieves and barbarians. But ultimately, the city walls marked the approximate boundary of the nation — that is, until the Empire was born.

If you watch the video above, you’ll see the colors and shapes of dominion blink in and out of existence as they swallow and relinquish huge swathes of the Earth. Like a game of Risk, the map tiles fall to the hands of one player or another, and then back again, in a seemingly endless war to “claim” more of the world for themselves. Names swirl past like bold gusts of wind: Achaemenids, Seleucids, Maurya, Han; Romans, Mongols, and hundreds of others. Sometimes they linger for a hundred years or two, but mostly they are gone like tumbleweeds, just as quickly as they came. They attach themselves to the earth and then feed off it, bloating and swelling until they fracture into pieces under their own weight or get pushed back into oblivion.

The world admires them because they seethe with power, and because they left behind visible achievements. The pyramids, Machu Picchu, Roman plumbing systems, Muslim domes; countless monuments and inventions astound us today. We think of them as the precursor to our own achievements, in a linear path of progress that led us to where we are now. Succeeding empires like to look at powerful empires from the past, actively styling themselves after Rome, ancient China, or Athens (for example). In the West, at least, Rome has inspired more copycats than any other empire in history: King Charlemagne of the Franks, Charles V and Philip II of Spain, the Ottomans, the Reich of the Hohenzollern, the Austro-Hungarian empire, Louis XIV and Napoleon of France, Hitler, Mussolini, the Russian tsars, Britain, the United States, and countless others either claimed to be Rome’s rightful successors, or tried to invoke Rome’s spirit in some way. (1, 2) As Krishan Kumar writes:

“No one, at least in Europe and even beyond, could escape the spell of Rome. It had created a vast civilization that, in both its cultural and material aspects, extended to the furthest bounds of the Western world, and had repercussions far into the East as well. The city of Rome, with its huge and varied population, was itself said to be in some sense equivalent to the world: ‘the world,’ said Ovid, ‘and the city of Rome occupy the same space.’ Rome was ‘the temple of the whole world’; it was the cosmopolis, the world-city, and its citizens world-citizens. Goethe’s observation, that ‘the entire history of the world is linked up with this city,’ is a sentiment expressed by European thinkers again and again (Kennedy 1999: 20; see also Edwards and Woolf 2003; Samman 2007: 70–83).” (1)

The beast of Empire, the “world-city”, is the “city-state” turned cancerous. Like the city-state(or in today’s terms, the nation), it devours labor and resources. But its quest is for limitless growth, and its hunger is never extinguished. Its needs and its logic differ wildly from the needs and the logic of a self-contained nation. Herfried Münkler, a professor of Political Theory at Humboldt University Berlin, offers a convincing theory of this logic which will be the primary focus of this article. Münkler asserts that the difference between empire and state “begins with the way the population is internally integrated and extends to how boundaries are conceived”. (3) While states usually draw sharp boundaries across their borders, empires do not; why would they, when their goal is to infinitely expand them? Furthermore, imperial boundaries are asymmetrical with respect to power and influence. This applies to their relationships both with outside political entities, as well as with their internal populations:

“Empires have no neighbors which they recognize as equals, that is, as possessing equal rights; with states, by contrast, this is the rule. In other words, states are always in the plural, empires mostly in the singular. This actual, or even simply asserted, peculiarity of empires affects the manner of their internal integration: whereas states, not least as a result of direct competition with neighboring states, integrate their populations equally — above all, grant them equal rights whether they live at the core of the state or in its border regions — this is not the case with empires: there is almost always a scale of integration descending from centre to periphery, which usually corresponds to decreasing rights and and an increasingly limited capacity to determine the politics of the centre.”

The Logic of Empire

The logic of empire is civilization’s logic on steroids. It is based on surplus extraction and labor exploitation. But while cities and nationstates operate in a closed system, the system of empire is an open one. It consists of a “core” and an ever-expanding “periphery”. The periphery disproportionately bears the burdens of empire; its inhabitants have fewer rights and less participatory power; meanwhile, their surplus is transferred toward the core. The core of the empire benefits from the incoming profits or tribute, enjoys more political influence, and typically claims more rights for its citizens.

Münkler identifies two main phases of empire: expansion and consolidation. They are fairly self-explanatory. During the first phase, as the empire sweeps up new territories, asymmetry between the core and periphery reaches its height. The empire maximizes exploitation of its colonies, largely to the benefit of the core, and often does little to integrate these outlying lands into the imperial social order. Münkler, who uses Michael Mann’s system of four power types, argues that military and/or economic power play the leading role during this phase.

During the consolidation phase, imperial growth slows down. The empire switches its focus toward maintaining and stabilizing control. Here, political and ideological power become increasingly important, as the empire sets up political structures in the periphery, invests in infrastructure, and exports its culture and belief systems to help hold the social fabric together. Often, during this phase, the periphery becomes more integrated into the imperial system, and asymmetries start to even out a little. Only the empires that make it through this phase — what Münkler calls “crossing the Augustan threshold”¹— have a shot at achieving long-term stability. That stability ultimately depends on creating a measure of equilibrium between the four different power types. He writes:

“During the first phase, the question of costs and benefits remained in the background: either expansion brought in more than it required in the way of resources, or people consoled themselves with the thought of future profits. This changed with the passage to the consolidation phase. If the empire was not to collapse through bankruptcy or internal resistance to the burdens, it now had to convert the imaginary balance-sheet into a real one — and that usually meant reducing the costs of rule. The easiest way of achieving this was, in most cases, a strong application of political and ideological power, the latter, in particular, being much cheaper to generate than military power […] In any event, the four sources of power do not play an equal role in the formation of empire, and sometimes this is true also after it has reached its maximum extent. However, a deficit in any one of the four can have thoroughly negative consequences for the empire: it is expensive to compensate for this by strengthening the other three, and besides the balance of power within the empire may be permanently disturbed.”

Together, the four power types complete the full picture of empire. Military and economic power are the principal means by which imperial territories are exploited; ideological and political power form the fabric that holds the resulting empire together. Münkler looks at steppe empires (the Scythians, Mongols and Huns) and maritime empires (the Portuguese, the Dutch) to illustrate the contrast between military and economic forms of surplus extraction. “What differentiates them,” he tells us, “is not the degree of exploitation but the level of open violence.”

The steppe empires were highly unstable Eurasian military empires, usually founded by horsemen, who fed off booty and tribute. Their horsemanship gave them a distinct combat advantage among nearby agricultural and herding communities, who were far slower and less mobile in battle. They were therefore in a position to make demands. They exacted tribute from their more sedentary neighbors, and threatened lightning raids on those who refused to honor their quest for power. In keeping with David Priestland’s “soldier” typography, these societies paid the highest respect to the “feasting chieftain” — strong, “virile” men with huge helpings of charisma, who were known for providing bountifully for their own. Diverse tribes and ethnic groups united quickly under such a leader, sweeping and conquering vast territories seemingly overnight. Genghis Khan, for example, organized a host of different ethnic units into single combat groups of a hundred and a thousand. (3)

But this great strength was also their biggest weakness, because when the chieftain died, these empires had nothing to hold them together. Without the magnetic and powerful personality whose leadership united them, they quickly crumbled. But even when he was alive, a leader’s reputation hinged on the continual flow of bounty to his supporters. Only by providing gifts and hosting decadent feasts could he ensure their lasting loyalty. This meant that there could be no end to war. Like a plague of locusts, the steppe riders laid waste to everything in their path, pillaging and exploiting and then setting their sights on the next raid. Münkler writes:

“Genghis Khan was himself aware of the pressure to conquest he had created: ‘The Mongols must subjugate all lands and not make peace with any other people, until it has been destroyed or else submitted to them.’²⁵ And, indeed, the unity of the Mongol empire, in which individual khans were accountable to a single khagan (or great khan), could be preserved only so long as this expansionist policy continued. With the death in 1259 of Genghis’s grandson, Möngke, the Mongol world empire disintegrated into a number of warring kingdoms.”

Like the steppe empires, maritime economic empires such as Portugal maintained an almost exclusively exploitative relationship with their peripheries. Their trade empire once stretched from the East African coast to Southeast Asia, but their colonization was mostly limited to a few strategically-placed forts, seaports and trading posts. Their MO was to get valuable goods and resources — mainly spices such as pepper, cloves and cinnamon — out of the countries where they grew and into Europe, where they could sell them at highly-fixed prices under a state monopoly. To accomplish this, they needed primarily to control the seas. They declared the Indian Ocean a “mare clausum” (closed sea) and demanded permits for all non-Portuguese trading vessels sailing through. They made high profits, but neglected their military defense, and so ultimately lost their empire to the Dutch.

Crossing the Augustan Threshold

If an empire manages to cross the Augustan threshold, it enters a period of change during which differences between core and periphery tend to even out a little, the empire invests more in its territories, and the four power types achieve more of an equilibrium. The “imperial glitter” of an economic empire can be used to buy armies and thus increase defense; military-heavy empires can develop trade relationships in order to fund their continuation. Ideological promises of “progress” and “civilization” can persuade inhabitants of the periphery to remain loyal, while religious and philosophical ideas can be used to unify disparate populations. Political positions can be strategically handed out to ensure the loyalty of key players and discourage them from taking bribes. Rome and China are both examples of empires that crossed the threshold.

In Rome, Augustus himself tried to create a bribe-resistant, self-reproducing class of political elites. He hired men with large families to key administrative positions, allowing them to choose their locations. A family man has two specific advantages in the eyes of a ruler like Augustus: for one thing, someone with a family has more to risk if they put their job on the line; and for another, his children will grow up as part of the “elite class”, further expanding it. On the ideological side, the idea of “eternal Rome” and the “pax Romana” (Roman peace) helped unify the periphery under the banner of Roman loyalty. Though Augustus introduced the idea, writers and artists such as Virgil elevated it to a sacred level and doused it in humanitarianism. Rome as an empire was justified because it unified previously warring tribes of people, spreading eternal peace wherever the empire touched down. This utopian vision emphasized altruistic, cultured values that almost anyone could rally behind. And Augustus helped to create the sense, in the eyes of the colonies, that it was true: he recruited armies increasingly from the provinces, and granted citizenship to large numbers of people on the fringes of Roman territory, expanding civil rights across the imperium. According to Münkler,

“Whereas in 70 BC a census covering the areas under Roman rule recorded a total of 910,000 male citizens, the census ordered by Octavian and Agrippa for the year AD 28 turned up 4,063,000 Roman citizens — an increase which cannot be attributed only to the fact that women and children were now also included.”

China also used political and ideological tactics to unify their domain and cross the threshold. During the Qin period, Emperor Zheng divided the empire into 36 provinces, sending centrally-loyal officials to administer each of them. The Qin Dynasty gave land grants to peasants in the hinterlands to ensure their loyalty to the empire and create a stable, controllable population of farmers. (2) The land grants allowed people to feed themselves, but it also made them easier to monitor, tax, and conscript for war. Young men from the provinces were selected and sent to the capital for education, serving both as a method of indoctrination and also as a path toward upward social mobility. According to Burbank and Cooper:

“Government by officials was invigorated by meritocratic selection. The emperor recruited not from an aristocracy but from the sons of landowners, and in 124 BCE he created an imperial academy — some call it a university — to train them in techniques of rule, record keeping, and Confucian ideals. By 1 CE a hundred men a year were passing examinations by scholars and entering the bureaucracy.”

Confucianism itself was a powerful ideological technique for reinforcing the power of empire. (3) As a universalizing philosophy it brought together disparate groups of people, discouraging rebellious tendencies and promoting a logic based on fractal hierarchies and duty. It justified power imbalance as an inherent feature of the natural order, something eternal that preserved the stability and security of the collective. Everyone had his or her own place in this hierarchy, and to defy that role was to betray one’s moral obligation to society.

Food for an Empire

Münkler gives us a basic outline of the two main phases of empire, and the power types that dominate during each. However, it’s important to qualify two points: one, that these phases often occur in cycles, rather than linearly; and two, that most empires use combinations of all four power types at every stage. Even empires that never cross the Augustan threshold, like Spain or the Ottoman Empire, use ideological and political power to try to hold their empires together; and some empires exploit and expand part of their peripheries even as they integrate and civilize others. Empires that do cross the threshold succeed because they maintain at least some measure of equilibrium among power types (even if it’s not perfect). But the key takeaway here is that ideological and political power are primarily unifying power sources, while military and economic power are primarily extractive. Ideology and politics knit the fabric of the empire together, stabilize the order and provide narratives to justify its continued existence; economics and military forces are the means by which the empire gets its food.

And feed it must, or crumble into oblivion. But on what does an empire feed? As we shall see next time, the exploitation of empire goes far beyond the “grain and manpower” module that James C. Scott describes. Just as an empire and a state use different logic, so they use different sources of fuel. And that imperial quest for fuel is dizzying, diverse, and has drastically shaped every contour and fold of the world as we know it today.

Footnotes

1. The idea of the Augustan threshold is taken from Michael Doyle, a professor of International Relations at Columbia University. The term refers to Emperor Octavian/Augustus of Rome, who implemented a series of reforms which consolidated and stabilized the Roman imperium. Münkler writes:

“The reforms introduced by Octavian/Augustus essentially consisted of three elements: Octavian sought to win the trust of the Roman landed aristocracy, so that with its support he could break the power of the urban oligarchs; he gained influence over the constitutional and administrative order, which could now be changed without provoking a political crisis; and he recognized the administrative system, transforming the provinces from spaces for oligarchic self-enrichment to efficiently governed parts of the empire.”

Sources

1. Kumar, Krishan (2017). Visions of Empire: How Five Imperial Regimes Shaped the World. Princeton University Press: Princeton & Oxford.
2. Burbank, Jane and Cooper, Frederick (2010). Empires in World History: Power and the Politics of Difference. Princeton University Press: Princeton & Oxford.
3. Münkler, Herfried (2005). Empires: The Logic of World Domination from Ancient Rome to the United States. Trans. Patrick Camiller (2007). Polity Press: Cambridge.