Book Review: The Age of Empire, by Eric Hobsbawm
In starting the book with an account of how his parents first met, under the shadow of the Pyramids, in 1913, Eric Hobsbawm confessed his emotional tie to the period that he called The Age of Empire. To him, the years between 1875 and 1914 were an era of unparalleled marvels: mind not only the stunning material achievements, or the great historical figures who lived their formative years, but just feel the restlessness of human energy of the age—the energy of desire, innovation and hope—one cannot but nod in understanding of why Hobsbawm spared no effort trying to capture this segment of history before it finally faded into “twilight zone”.
It is somewhat a strange experience to follow a historian’s guide to a past that he’s professed of such personal attachment. One couldn’t help but wonder when Hobsbawm being critical of the age of empire, was he trying to find the causes or the excuses of its ultimate degeneration into a World War?
Hobsbawm answered this question with dialectic sensitivity. The age of empire, he seemed to argue, was at the same time of an age of progress and an age of crisis.
The momentum of progress was overwhelming. If anyone harbors any exceptionalism sentiment toward the contemporary age, reading Hobsbawm will certainly help to diminish that. To those today who marvel at the exponential rate of growth in China, or at the material excesses an average American have access to, Hobsbawm seems to remind them: history is a great circus show in which the spectacle remains the same. It is only the audiences that are different each time.
Yet signs of crisis were equally abundant. In almost every chapter, Hobsbawm coupled glories with worries: in economy and commerce, net production increase couldn’t eclipse precipitous decline of profits. In political development, the liberation of the mass and the triumph of reason over religiosity were so profound, that they left a vacuum soon filled by anarchism and nationalism. Industrialists hailed the arrival of “scientific management” as a savior, all the while oblivious of its alienation of humanity. The advance of theoretical science, such as math and physics, was such that it lost secular traction and morphed from observable to believable. So were the fine arts, despite a booming vernacular entertainment industry.
In the end, all the crisis culminated in the self-destruction of the ego of this belle époque, the ideology of imperialism itself. The genesis of such an ideology was the product of economic necessity as much as political convenience. The seminal form of imperialism, Hobsbawm told us, was a British creation, in that the conquering was to serve the expansion of commerce: either as new markets for exports, or as outposts to secure trade routes. Soon, however, the innocent urge of capitalist growth took on a life of its own, albeit a political one: it became the symbol of national pride, a convenient instrument for nascent states to consolidate its powers and to coerce its dissidents.
Coupled with such a transformation was its own undoing. Not only the spread of idea of Modernity to the periphery lit the fires of revolution everywhere, but the groundswell of nationalistic sentiments steered the European powers irreversibly towards a catastrophic collision, or shall we say, collisions, that in another 30 years would bury the imperialism de jure for good. The synthesis born after such epic human calamity is today’s particular form of globalization, in which nationalism is considered as obstacle.
Obviously, there is this destructive aspect of nationalism. Hobsbawm described in the chapter “Towards Revolution” the ambiguous feeling Europeans had towards an all-out conflict on the eve of World War I. Some didn’t believe it was coming. Others didn’t think it was necessarily a bad thing. Anyway the consensus was it would be short bloodletting. There is no such illusion today.
Not only nationalism in its most naked form, in agents like Jorg Haider or Jean-Marie Le Pen, is closely monitored and quickly discredited, there is also this newfound vigor against economic nationalism, or mercantilism. It appears the ever sophisticate fight against nationalism reflects a deeper appreciation of peace and harmony.
Or is it? After closing the history not long ago passed but before moving on praising the Free Trade utopia, shall we pause and reflect for a moment: a century ago, who benefited most from a nationalistic world order? Today, who will benefit most from an “anationalist” one?
In fact, one may argue that it is precisely the same dynamic that germinated nationalism during the age of empire that is turning against it today. The global economy, already burgeoning a century ago, has now entered a very different geopolitical reality. Former colonial territories are sovereign nations now. When Peru (or Columbia?) defaulted on its debt in the 19th century, French and German gunboats sealed off its ports until the government agreed to pay back every penny. Today, international creditors cannot do such a thing against Russia or Argentina. Instead, the task is now delegated to regional or global institutions such as WTO or IMF, as exemplified by the intrusive role the latter played during Asian Financial Crisis (AFC).
Even without such a crisis, developing countries today are often presented with a Faustian bargain: eternal subjugation in a thoroughly borderless global economy for a flow of temporal capital. I once thought it was Puncho Villa who lamented “Poor Mexico, so far from God and so close to the United States!” because General Pershing crossed Rio Grande. I was mistaken. It was actually a quote by Porfirio Díaz, the Mexico president under whose watch American businessmen flooded into his country taking over one industry after another. I suppose this is just another proof of Wallerstein’s observation that the downtrodden are often the most acute observers.