I. ORIGINS OF NEO-CONSERVATIVE IMPERIALISM
I. ORIGINS OF NEO-CONSERVATIVE IMPERIALISM
‘Imperialism is a word that trips easily off the tongue.’ Like John Hobson a century earlier, Harvey notes that the term has assumed so many different meanings that its analytic, as opposed to polemical, use requires some clarification. [14] Its most general meaning is an extension or imposition of the power, authority or influence of a state over other states, or stateless communities. Thus understood, imperialism has been around for a very long time under a great variety of forms. But the special brand of imperialism that Harvey calls ‘capitalist imperialism’ or ‘imperialism of the capitalist sort’ is what we need to investigate in order to understand why the greatest capitalist power in world history, the United States, has developed a military apparatus of unparalleled and unprecedented destructiveness and has shown a strong disposition to deploy that apparatus in the pursuit of the most ambitious project of world rule ever conceived.
A. Logic of territory and logic of capital
Harvey defines imperialism of the capitalist sort as a ‘contradictory fusion’ of two components: ‘the politics of state and empire’ and ‘the molecular processes of capital accumulation in space and time’. The first component refers to ‘the political, diplomatic and military strategies invoked and used by a state (or some collection of states operating as a political power bloc) as it struggles to assert its interests and achieve its goals in the world at large.’ This struggle is driven by a ‘territorial logic of power’—a logic, that is, in which command over a territory and its human and natural resources constitutes the basis of the pursuit of power. The second component, in contrast, refers to the flow of economic power ‘across and through continuous space, towards and away from territorial entities . . . through the daily practices of production, trade, commerce, capital flows, money transfers, labour migration, technology transfer, currency speculation, flows of information, cultural impulses and the like.’ The driving force of these processes is a ‘capitalist logic of power’—a logic, that is, in which command over economic capital constitutes the basis of the pursuit of power. [15]
The fusion of these components is always problematic and often contradictory (that is, dialectical). Neither logic can be reduced to the other. Thus, ‘it would be hard to make sense of the Vietnam War or the invasion of Iraq . . . solely in terms of the immediate requirements of capital accumulation’, because it can be plausibly argued that ‘such ventures inhibit rather than enhance the fortunes of capital’. By the same token, however, ‘it is hard to make sense of the general territorial strategy of containment of Soviet power by the United States after the Second World War—the strategy that set the stage for us intervention in Vietnam—without recognizing the compelling need felt on the part of business interests in the United States to keep as much of the world as possible open to capital accumulation through the expansion of trade . . . and opportunities for foreign investment.’ [16]
While the territorial and the capitalist logics of power are not reducible to one another, and at times the territorial logic comes to the fore, ‘what sets imperialism of the capitalist sort apart from other conceptions of empire is that it is the capitalistic logic that dominates.’ But if this is the case, ‘how can the territorial logics of power, which tend to be awkwardly fixed in space, respond to the open dynamics of endless capital accumulation?’ And if hegemony within the global system is the property of a state, or collection of states, ‘how can the capitalist logic be so managed as to sustain the hegemon?’ [17] Harvey finds these questions especially compelling in view of Hannah Arendt’s insightful if somewhat functionalist observations concerning the relationship between the accumulation of capital and the accumulation of power. As she writes in The Origins of Totalitarianism:
Hobbes’s insistence on power as the motor of all things human . . . sprang from the theoretically indisputable proposition that a never-ending accumulation of property must be based on a never-ending accumulation of power . . . The limitless process of capital accumulation needs the political structure of so ‘unlimited a Power’ that it can protect growing property by constantly growing more powerful . . . This process of never-ending accumulation of power necessary for the protection of a never-ending accumulation of capital determined the ‘progressive’ ideology of the late nineteenth century and foreshadowed the rise of imperialism. [18]
Harvey goes on to note that Arendt’s theoretical observation corresponds ‘exactly’ to my own empirical account of the succession of leading organizations that has promoted and sustained the formation of a world capitalist system, from the Italian city-states through the Dutch, the British and now the us phases of hegemony:
Just as in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries the hegemonic role had become too large for a state of the size and resources of the United Provinces, so in the early twentieth century that role had become too large for a state of the size and resources of the United Kingdom. In both instances, the hegemonic role fell on a state—the United Kingdom in the eighteenth century, the United States in the twentieth century—that had come to enjoy a substantial ‘protection rent’, that is, exclusive cost advantages associated with absolute or relative geostrategic insularity . . . But that state in both instances was also the bearer of sufficient weight in the capitalist world-economy to be able to shift the balance of power among the competing states in whatever direction it saw fit. And since the capitalist world-economy had expanded considerably in the nineteenth century, the territory and resources required to become hegemonic in the early twentieth century were much greater than in the eighteenth century. [19]
From hegemony to dominance?
In light of these theoretical and empirical observations, Harvey reformulates his questions concerning the relationship between the territorial and the capitalist logics with specific reference to the present condition of us hegemony. First, does the attempt of hegemonic states to maintain their position in relation to endless capital accumulation inevitably induce them to extend, expand and intensify their powers militarily and politically to a point where they endanger the very position they are trying to maintain? Second, is not the United States now falling into this trap, despite Paul Kennedy’s 1987 warning that overextension and overreach have again and again proven the Achilles heel of hegemonic states and empires? [20] And finally:
if the us is no longer in itself sufficiently large and resourceful to manage the considerably expanded world economy of the twenty-first century, then what kind of accumulation of political power under what kind of political arrangement will be capable of taking its place, given that the world is heavily committed still to capital accumulation without limit? [21]
Harvey’s answer to the first question is that the Bush Administration’s adoption of the New American Century project does indeed constitute an attempt to maintain the hegemonic position of the us under the conditions of unprecedented global economic integration created by endless capital accumulation at the end of the twentieth century. Following Neil Smith, Harvey underscores the semantic continuity between Henry Luce’s influential 1941 cover editorial in Life magazine, ‘The American Century’, and the emergent project of the ‘New’ one. In both instances, the us is attributed with a power that is global and universal, rather than territorially specific. Hence the preference for the word ‘century’ rather than ‘empire’. As Smith put it:
Whereas the geographical language of empires suggests a malleable politics—empires rise and fall and are open to challenge—the ‘American Century’ suggests an inevitable destiny. In Luce’s language, any political quibble about American dominance was precluded. How does one challenge a century? us global dominance was presented as the natural result of historical progress . . . It followed as surely as one century after another. Insofar as it was beyond geography, the American Century was beyond empire and beyond reproof. [22]
And yet, the American Century was clearly not beyond geography, and the chances that a second such century will follow the first are slim, to say the least. The main reasons for this, as we shall see, must be sought in the capitalist logic of power. But even within the territorial logic of power, the Project for a New American Century and its promoters’ fixation on Iraq and West Asia constituted a high-risk approach to sustaining us domination. As Harvey outlines, if the us could install a friendly regime in Iraq; move on to do the same in Iran; consolidate its strategic presence in Central Asia and so dominate Caspian Basin oil reserves—‘then it might, through control of the global oil spigot, hope to keep effective control over the global economy for the next fifty years.’ Since all the economic competitors of the United States, both in Europe and in East Asia, are heavily dependent on West Asian oil,
What better way for the United States to ward off that competition and secure its own hegemonic position than to control the price, conditions and distribution of the key economic resource upon which those competitors rely? And what better way to do that than to use the one line of force where the us still remains all-powerful—military might? [23]
Nevertheless, even if such a strategy could succeed militarily—a big if—it would not be sufficient to maintain the hegemonic position of the us. Thus, on the eve of the invasion of Iraq, liberal-imperialist ideologue Thomas Friedman had argued in the New York Times that there was ‘nothing illegitimate or immoral about the us being concerned that an evil, megalomaniac dictator might acquire excessive influence over the natural resource that powers the world’s industrial base.’ But the us has to be careful to convey to the public and reassure the world that the intention was ‘to protect the world’s right to economic survival’ rather than ‘our own right to indulge ourselves’, that the United States was ‘acting for the benefit of the planet, not simply to fuel American excesses . . . If we occupy Iraq and simply install a more pro-us autocrat to run the Iraqi gas station (as we have in other Arab oil states), then this war would be immoral’. [24]
Harvey uses Friedman’s argument to illustrate the difference between hegemony, in a Gramscian sense, and sheer domination. As argued elsewhere, for Gramsci hegemony is the additional power that accrues to a dominant group by virtue of its capacity to lead society in a direction that not only serves the dominant group’s interests but is also perceived by subordinate groups as serving a more general interest. It is the inverse of the notion of ‘power deflation’ used by Talcott Parsons to designate situations in which governmental control cannot be exercised except through the widespread use or threat of force. If subordinate groups have confidence in their rulers, systems of domination can be run without resort to coercion. But when that confidence wanes, they no longer can. By the same token, Gramsci’s notion of hegemony may be said to consist of the ‘power inflation’ that ensues from the capacity of dominant groups to present their rule as credibly serving not just their interests but those of subordinate groups as well. When such credibility is lacking or wanes, hegemony deflates into sheer domination, or what Ranajit Guha has called ‘dominance without hegemony’. [25]
Zero-sum leadership
As long as we speak of leadership in a national context, as Gramsci does, an increase in the power of the state vis-à-vis other states is an important component—and in itself a measure—of the successful pursuit of a general (that is, ‘national’) interest. But when we use leadership in an international context, to designate the fact that a dominant state leads the system of states in a desired direction, the ‘general interest’ can no longer be defined in terms of an increase in the power of an individual state over others, because by definition this power cannot increase for the system as a whole. A general interest across the system can nonetheless be identified by distinguishing between ‘distributive’ and ‘collective’ aspects of power. Distributive aspects of power refer to a zero-sum-game relationship, whereby an agency can gain power only if others lose some. Collective aspects of power, in contrast, refer to a positive-sum-game relationship, whereby cooperation among distinct agencies increases their power over third parties, or over nature. Thus while the general interest of a system of states cannot be defined in terms of changes in the distribution of power among them, it can be defined in terms of an increase in the collective power of the entire system’s dominant groups over third parties or nature. [26]
In concurring with this adaptation of Gramsci’s concept of hegemony to interstate relations, Harvey notes that over the last half-century the us has frequently relied on coercive means to subjugate or liquidate antagonistic groups at home and—especially—abroad. Nevertheless, coercion was ‘only a partial, and sometimes counterproductive, basis for us power’. An equally indispensable foundation was the us capacity to mobilize consent and cooperation internationally, by acting in such a way as to make at least plausible to others the claim that Washington was acting in the general interest, even when it was really putting narrow American interests first. In this regard, as Harvey writes:
The Cold War provided the us with a glorious opportunity. The United States, itself dedicated to the endless accumulation of capital, was prepared to accumulate the political and military power to defend and promote that process across the globe against the communist threat . . . While we know enough about decision-making in the foreign policy establishment of the Roosevelt–Truman years and since to conclude that the us always put its own interests first, sufficient benefits flowed to the propertied classes in enough countries to make us claims to be acting in the universal (read ‘propertied’) interest credible and to keep subaltern groups (and client states) gratefully in line. [27]
The Bush Administration and the promoters of a second American Century have of course done all they could to persuade the world that by invading Iraq the us was ‘acting for the benefit of the planet, not simply to fuel American excesses’, as Friedman had suggested. Yet the failure to garner significant international support for the invasion suggests that much of the world believed otherwise. From the start, the main problem was not that the ‘weapons of mass destruction’ and the ‘Iraq–al Qaeda connection’ lacked credibility, but rather that the invasion was inscribed in a broader political project of us global domination that explicitly emphasized distributive rather than collective aspects of world power. The attempted implementation of the plan through the unilateral decision to invade Iraq, Harvey argues, ‘created a bond of resistance . . . between France, Germany and Russia, even backed by China’. This sudden geopolitical realignment made it ‘possible to discern the faint outlines of a Eurasian power bloc that Halford Mackinder long ago predicted could easily dominate the world geopolitically’. [28]
In light of Washington’s longstanding fears that such a bloc might actually materialize, the occupation of Iraq takes on an even broader meaning:
Not only does it constitute an attempt to control the global oil spigot—and hence the global economy—through domination over the Middle East. It also constitutes a powerful us military bridgehead on the Eurasian land mass which, when taken together with its gathering alliances from Poland down through the Balkans, yields it a highly significant geostrategic position with the potential to disrupt any consolidation of a Eurasian power; and which could indeed be the next step in that ‘endless accumulation of political power’ that must always accompany the equally endless accumulation of capital. [29]
It is these far-reaching plans that have made the United States the focus of current discussions of empire and the new imperialism. Yet, as Harvey notes, ‘the balance of forces at work within the capitalistic logic point in rather different directions’. [30] It is to these forces that we now turn.
‘Imperialism is a word that trips easily off the tongue.’ Like John Hobson a century earlier, Harvey notes that the term has assumed so many different meanings that its analytic, as opposed to polemical, use requires some clarification. [14] Its most general meaning is an extension or imposition of the power, authority or influence of a state over other states, or stateless communities. Thus understood, imperialism has been around for a very long time under a great variety of forms. But the special brand of imperialism that Harvey calls ‘capitalist imperialism’ or ‘imperialism of the capitalist sort’ is what we need to investigate in order to understand why the greatest capitalist power in world history, the United States, has developed a military apparatus of unparalleled and unprecedented destructiveness and has shown a strong disposition to deploy that apparatus in the pursuit of the most ambitious project of world rule ever conceived.
A. Logic of territory and logic of capital
Harvey defines imperialism of the capitalist sort as a ‘contradictory fusion’ of two components: ‘the politics of state and empire’ and ‘the molecular processes of capital accumulation in space and time’. The first component refers to ‘the political, diplomatic and military strategies invoked and used by a state (or some collection of states operating as a political power bloc) as it struggles to assert its interests and achieve its goals in the world at large.’ This struggle is driven by a ‘territorial logic of power’—a logic, that is, in which command over a territory and its human and natural resources constitutes the basis of the pursuit of power. The second component, in contrast, refers to the flow of economic power ‘across and through continuous space, towards and away from territorial entities . . . through the daily practices of production, trade, commerce, capital flows, money transfers, labour migration, technology transfer, currency speculation, flows of information, cultural impulses and the like.’ The driving force of these processes is a ‘capitalist logic of power’—a logic, that is, in which command over economic capital constitutes the basis of the pursuit of power. [15]
The fusion of these components is always problematic and often contradictory (that is, dialectical). Neither logic can be reduced to the other. Thus, ‘it would be hard to make sense of the Vietnam War or the invasion of Iraq . . . solely in terms of the immediate requirements of capital accumulation’, because it can be plausibly argued that ‘such ventures inhibit rather than enhance the fortunes of capital’. By the same token, however, ‘it is hard to make sense of the general territorial strategy of containment of Soviet power by the United States after the Second World War—the strategy that set the stage for us intervention in Vietnam—without recognizing the compelling need felt on the part of business interests in the United States to keep as much of the world as possible open to capital accumulation through the expansion of trade . . . and opportunities for foreign investment.’ [16]
While the territorial and the capitalist logics of power are not reducible to one another, and at times the territorial logic comes to the fore, ‘what sets imperialism of the capitalist sort apart from other conceptions of empire is that it is the capitalistic logic that dominates.’ But if this is the case, ‘how can the territorial logics of power, which tend to be awkwardly fixed in space, respond to the open dynamics of endless capital accumulation?’ And if hegemony within the global system is the property of a state, or collection of states, ‘how can the capitalist logic be so managed as to sustain the hegemon?’ [17] Harvey finds these questions especially compelling in view of Hannah Arendt’s insightful if somewhat functionalist observations concerning the relationship between the accumulation of capital and the accumulation of power. As she writes in The Origins of Totalitarianism:
Hobbes’s insistence on power as the motor of all things human . . . sprang from the theoretically indisputable proposition that a never-ending accumulation of property must be based on a never-ending accumulation of power . . . The limitless process of capital accumulation needs the political structure of so ‘unlimited a Power’ that it can protect growing property by constantly growing more powerful . . . This process of never-ending accumulation of power necessary for the protection of a never-ending accumulation of capital determined the ‘progressive’ ideology of the late nineteenth century and foreshadowed the rise of imperialism. [18]
Harvey goes on to note that Arendt’s theoretical observation corresponds ‘exactly’ to my own empirical account of the succession of leading organizations that has promoted and sustained the formation of a world capitalist system, from the Italian city-states through the Dutch, the British and now the us phases of hegemony:
Just as in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries the hegemonic role had become too large for a state of the size and resources of the United Provinces, so in the early twentieth century that role had become too large for a state of the size and resources of the United Kingdom. In both instances, the hegemonic role fell on a state—the United Kingdom in the eighteenth century, the United States in the twentieth century—that had come to enjoy a substantial ‘protection rent’, that is, exclusive cost advantages associated with absolute or relative geostrategic insularity . . . But that state in both instances was also the bearer of sufficient weight in the capitalist world-economy to be able to shift the balance of power among the competing states in whatever direction it saw fit. And since the capitalist world-economy had expanded considerably in the nineteenth century, the territory and resources required to become hegemonic in the early twentieth century were much greater than in the eighteenth century. [19]
From hegemony to dominance?
In light of these theoretical and empirical observations, Harvey reformulates his questions concerning the relationship between the territorial and the capitalist logics with specific reference to the present condition of us hegemony. First, does the attempt of hegemonic states to maintain their position in relation to endless capital accumulation inevitably induce them to extend, expand and intensify their powers militarily and politically to a point where they endanger the very position they are trying to maintain? Second, is not the United States now falling into this trap, despite Paul Kennedy’s 1987 warning that overextension and overreach have again and again proven the Achilles heel of hegemonic states and empires? [20] And finally:
if the us is no longer in itself sufficiently large and resourceful to manage the considerably expanded world economy of the twenty-first century, then what kind of accumulation of political power under what kind of political arrangement will be capable of taking its place, given that the world is heavily committed still to capital accumulation without limit? [21]
Harvey’s answer to the first question is that the Bush Administration’s adoption of the New American Century project does indeed constitute an attempt to maintain the hegemonic position of the us under the conditions of unprecedented global economic integration created by endless capital accumulation at the end of the twentieth century. Following Neil Smith, Harvey underscores the semantic continuity between Henry Luce’s influential 1941 cover editorial in Life magazine, ‘The American Century’, and the emergent project of the ‘New’ one. In both instances, the us is attributed with a power that is global and universal, rather than territorially specific. Hence the preference for the word ‘century’ rather than ‘empire’. As Smith put it:
Whereas the geographical language of empires suggests a malleable politics—empires rise and fall and are open to challenge—the ‘American Century’ suggests an inevitable destiny. In Luce’s language, any political quibble about American dominance was precluded. How does one challenge a century? us global dominance was presented as the natural result of historical progress . . . It followed as surely as one century after another. Insofar as it was beyond geography, the American Century was beyond empire and beyond reproof. [22]
And yet, the American Century was clearly not beyond geography, and the chances that a second such century will follow the first are slim, to say the least. The main reasons for this, as we shall see, must be sought in the capitalist logic of power. But even within the territorial logic of power, the Project for a New American Century and its promoters’ fixation on Iraq and West Asia constituted a high-risk approach to sustaining us domination. As Harvey outlines, if the us could install a friendly regime in Iraq; move on to do the same in Iran; consolidate its strategic presence in Central Asia and so dominate Caspian Basin oil reserves—‘then it might, through control of the global oil spigot, hope to keep effective control over the global economy for the next fifty years.’ Since all the economic competitors of the United States, both in Europe and in East Asia, are heavily dependent on West Asian oil,
What better way for the United States to ward off that competition and secure its own hegemonic position than to control the price, conditions and distribution of the key economic resource upon which those competitors rely? And what better way to do that than to use the one line of force where the us still remains all-powerful—military might? [23]
Nevertheless, even if such a strategy could succeed militarily—a big if—it would not be sufficient to maintain the hegemonic position of the us. Thus, on the eve of the invasion of Iraq, liberal-imperialist ideologue Thomas Friedman had argued in the New York Times that there was ‘nothing illegitimate or immoral about the us being concerned that an evil, megalomaniac dictator might acquire excessive influence over the natural resource that powers the world’s industrial base.’ But the us has to be careful to convey to the public and reassure the world that the intention was ‘to protect the world’s right to economic survival’ rather than ‘our own right to indulge ourselves’, that the United States was ‘acting for the benefit of the planet, not simply to fuel American excesses . . . If we occupy Iraq and simply install a more pro-us autocrat to run the Iraqi gas station (as we have in other Arab oil states), then this war would be immoral’. [24]
Harvey uses Friedman’s argument to illustrate the difference between hegemony, in a Gramscian sense, and sheer domination. As argued elsewhere, for Gramsci hegemony is the additional power that accrues to a dominant group by virtue of its capacity to lead society in a direction that not only serves the dominant group’s interests but is also perceived by subordinate groups as serving a more general interest. It is the inverse of the notion of ‘power deflation’ used by Talcott Parsons to designate situations in which governmental control cannot be exercised except through the widespread use or threat of force. If subordinate groups have confidence in their rulers, systems of domination can be run without resort to coercion. But when that confidence wanes, they no longer can. By the same token, Gramsci’s notion of hegemony may be said to consist of the ‘power inflation’ that ensues from the capacity of dominant groups to present their rule as credibly serving not just their interests but those of subordinate groups as well. When such credibility is lacking or wanes, hegemony deflates into sheer domination, or what Ranajit Guha has called ‘dominance without hegemony’. [25]
Zero-sum leadership
As long as we speak of leadership in a national context, as Gramsci does, an increase in the power of the state vis-à-vis other states is an important component—and in itself a measure—of the successful pursuit of a general (that is, ‘national’) interest. But when we use leadership in an international context, to designate the fact that a dominant state leads the system of states in a desired direction, the ‘general interest’ can no longer be defined in terms of an increase in the power of an individual state over others, because by definition this power cannot increase for the system as a whole. A general interest across the system can nonetheless be identified by distinguishing between ‘distributive’ and ‘collective’ aspects of power. Distributive aspects of power refer to a zero-sum-game relationship, whereby an agency can gain power only if others lose some. Collective aspects of power, in contrast, refer to a positive-sum-game relationship, whereby cooperation among distinct agencies increases their power over third parties, or over nature. Thus while the general interest of a system of states cannot be defined in terms of changes in the distribution of power among them, it can be defined in terms of an increase in the collective power of the entire system’s dominant groups over third parties or nature. [26]
In concurring with this adaptation of Gramsci’s concept of hegemony to interstate relations, Harvey notes that over the last half-century the us has frequently relied on coercive means to subjugate or liquidate antagonistic groups at home and—especially—abroad. Nevertheless, coercion was ‘only a partial, and sometimes counterproductive, basis for us power’. An equally indispensable foundation was the us capacity to mobilize consent and cooperation internationally, by acting in such a way as to make at least plausible to others the claim that Washington was acting in the general interest, even when it was really putting narrow American interests first. In this regard, as Harvey writes:
The Cold War provided the us with a glorious opportunity. The United States, itself dedicated to the endless accumulation of capital, was prepared to accumulate the political and military power to defend and promote that process across the globe against the communist threat . . . While we know enough about decision-making in the foreign policy establishment of the Roosevelt–Truman years and since to conclude that the us always put its own interests first, sufficient benefits flowed to the propertied classes in enough countries to make us claims to be acting in the universal (read ‘propertied’) interest credible and to keep subaltern groups (and client states) gratefully in line. [27]
The Bush Administration and the promoters of a second American Century have of course done all they could to persuade the world that by invading Iraq the us was ‘acting for the benefit of the planet, not simply to fuel American excesses’, as Friedman had suggested. Yet the failure to garner significant international support for the invasion suggests that much of the world believed otherwise. From the start, the main problem was not that the ‘weapons of mass destruction’ and the ‘Iraq–al Qaeda connection’ lacked credibility, but rather that the invasion was inscribed in a broader political project of us global domination that explicitly emphasized distributive rather than collective aspects of world power. The attempted implementation of the plan through the unilateral decision to invade Iraq, Harvey argues, ‘created a bond of resistance . . . between France, Germany and Russia, even backed by China’. This sudden geopolitical realignment made it ‘possible to discern the faint outlines of a Eurasian power bloc that Halford Mackinder long ago predicted could easily dominate the world geopolitically’. [28]
In light of Washington’s longstanding fears that such a bloc might actually materialize, the occupation of Iraq takes on an even broader meaning:
Not only does it constitute an attempt to control the global oil spigot—and hence the global economy—through domination over the Middle East. It also constitutes a powerful us military bridgehead on the Eurasian land mass which, when taken together with its gathering alliances from Poland down through the Balkans, yields it a highly significant geostrategic position with the potential to disrupt any consolidation of a Eurasian power; and which could indeed be the next step in that ‘endless accumulation of political power’ that must always accompany the equally endless accumulation of capital. [29]
It is these far-reaching plans that have made the United States the focus of current discussions of empire and the new imperialism. Yet, as Harvey notes, ‘the balance of forces at work within the capitalistic logic point in rather different directions’. [30] It is to these forces that we now turn.
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