Hardt-Negri's "Empire": a critique, part one

Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri's "Empire" is best understood as a *turn*
within the ideological/political current known as "post-Marxism". Although
this movement has been closely identified with protests against
globalization--albeit not within classical Marxist parameters--Hardt and
Negri will have nothing to do with any movement that makes concessions to
the idea that "Local differences preexist the present scene and must be
defended or protected against the intrusion of globalization." (Empire, p. 45)

Before turning to part one of "Empire", it would be useful to say a few
words about the emergence of post-Marxism. As a theory, it tries to
reconcile Marx with postmodernism. From Marx it borrows the idea that
capitalism is an unjust system. From postmodernism it borrows the idea that
"grand narratives" lead to disaster. While postmodernism had been around
since the mid-80s (Lyotard's "Postmodern Condition" was published in 1984),
the disenchantment with the traditional Marxist project reached a crescendo
after 1990, when the Soviet bloc began to collapse and after the Central
American revolution had been defeated.

Since a large part of the postmodernist turn within Marxism had to do with
the futility of organizing socialism on the basis of the nation-state, the
collapse of existing socialism--based on such states--would necessarily
deepen the conviction that old-school Marxism was passé. However, what
deepened this pessimism even more was the belief that a 'globalized'
economy made the nation-state itself a dying species, like the
brontosaurus. What good what it do to make a socialist revolution if
multinational corporations and international lending institutions violated
porous real or virtual borders?

Perhaps no other leftwing figure expressed these moods better than Roger
Burbach, a Berkeley Latin American studies professor who had been heavily
invested in the Sandinista revolution. In 1997, he wrote "Globalization and
its Discontents: the rise of postmodernist socialisms" with Orlando Núñez
and Boris Kagarlitsky (Kargalitsky would eventually disown the book).
Burbach writes:

"The left has to accept the fact that the Marxist project for revolution
launched by the Communist Manifesto is dead. There will certainly be
revolutions (the Irananian Revolution is probably a harbinger of what to
expect in the short term), but they will not be explicitly socialist ones
that follow in the Marxist tradition begun by the First International."
(Globalization, p. 142.)

Socialists would have to lower their expectations. Instead of proletarian
revolution, they should shoot for "radical reforms", especially those that
have modest geographical and economic ambitions. On the high end of the
scale, you have a struggle like Chiapas, which has tended to function
iconically for the post-Marxists as 1917 Russia functioned for a generation
of classical Marxists. At the low end, you have soup kitchens, housing
squats, and even homeless men selling "street newspapers" in order to raise
the funds for their next meal or a night's stay at a flophouse. Burbach's
program comes across as a leftist version of George Bush's "thousand points
of light":

"In both the developed and underdeveloped countries, a wide variety of
critical needs and interests are being neglected at the local level,
including the building, or rebuilding, of roads, schools and social
services. A new spirit of volunteerism and community participation, backed
by a campaign to secure complimentary resources from local and national
governments, can open up entirely new job markets and areas of work to deal
with these basic needs." (ibid, p. 164) 

Although Hardt and Negri share many of Burbach's assumptions, which we will
detail momentarily, they could care less about community participation,
either in Chiapas or northern urban neighborhoods. For them, what is key is
the very process that Burbach was reacting against, namely globalization or
what old-school Marxists have called imperialism. They have their own word
for it, which serves them eponymously: Empire.

Part of the problem in coming to terms with "Empire" is the lack of an
economic analysis, which is surprising given the self-conscious attempt by
the authors to position the book as a Communist Manifesto for the 21st
century. Not only had Marx written a seminal economics treatise to anchor
his political program, so had Lenin a generation later. When Lenin was
gathering together the forces that would eventually constitute the 3rd
International, he already had "Imperialism, the Final Stage of Capitalism"
under his belt. This work not only was dense with detail about the
emergence of corporate trusts, it was written only after Lenin had
familiarized himself with hundreds of books and articles on economics,
especially those written by J.A. Hobson and Rudolf Hilferding. Going
through the notes of "Empire" you find abundant references to Baudrillard,
Celine, Arendt, Polybius et al, but very few to economics studies. 

This failure leads the authors to make bald assertions that scream out for
verification, but which are not forthcoming. For example, in the preface
they state that "The United States does indeed occupy a privileged position
in Empire, but this privilege derives not from its similarities to the old
European imperialist powers, but from its differences." Those who expect
those differences to revolve around investment patterns, etc. will be
disappointed, for in fact Hardt and Negri are referring to the United
States constitution which was inspired by an imperial (but not imperialist)
idea going back to the Roman Empire.

In the absence of hard economic facts, indeed much of "Empire" devolves
into discussion of the role of ideas in shaping history. Of particular note
is their definition of Empire itself. While "imperialisms" were very much
defined by place and time ("an extension of the sovereignty of the European
nation-states beyond their borders" as they put it), Empire is timeless and
omnipresent. "It is a *decentered* and *deterritorializing* apparatus of
rule that progressively incorporates the entire global realm within its
open, expanding frontiers". While to some of us, this comes across as
nothing more than a fancy description of U.S. imperialism's 'new world
order', let us accept this definition on its own terms for the time being.

In order to give this definition some substance, the authors unfortunately
allow their idealist method to run away with itself. This is most
particularly notable in their discussion of the United Nations, which is a
lynch-pin of Empire. Although--like much of Empire--the UN has nasty
side-effects, it is still a breakthrough in terms of pointing in the
direction of establishing a *global* order. From this standpoint, the work
of one Hans Kelsen is critical. As "one of the central intellectual figures
behind the formation of the United Nations," Kelsen sought in
"Kantian-fashion" a supreme ethical idea that could provide an organization
of humanity.

While not taking a position here on ethics, it is incumbent on us to look
at the underlying class dynamics that led to the formation of the United
Nations. As such, categorical imperatives never entered the picture.

To start with, before the UN ever ended up as a group of buildings on
Manhattan's East River, it pre-existed as the wartime alliance of England,
the United States and the USSR. Moreover, these three great powers always
saw their alliance within the context of diplomatic jockeying over how to
divide the spoils of WWII. These discussions took place at Yalta and
Potsdam, and influenced completely the decisions shaping the character of
the UN. Behind all of the human rights and democracy rhetoric accompanying
the creation of the UN, power politics lay beneath the surface.

The United States sought to capitalize on its impending victory in the
Pacific. Sumner Welles, under heavy criticism, disavowed charges in March
1943 that "the Pacific should be a lake under American jurisdiction..."
Great Britain, for its part, sought to maintain its imperial power.
Churchill wrote Eden at the time, "If the Americans want to take Japanese
islands which they have conquered, let them do so with our blessing and any
form of words that may be agreeable to them. But 'Hands Off the British
Empire' is our maxim." Stalin's goal was more modest. All he desired was a
series of buffer states between Western Europe and the Soviet Union that
would be under its sphere of influence. To get a flavor of United States
thinking at the time of formation of the UN, let's eavesdrop in on a
telephone conversation between War Department official John J. McCloy and
the State Department's Henry L. Stimson:

McCloy: ...the argument is that if you extend that to the regional
arrangement against non-enemy states, Russia will want to have the same
thing in Europe and Asia and you will build up these big regional systems
which may provoke even greater wars and you've cut out the heart of the
world organization.

Stimson: Yes.

McCloy: That the whole idea is to use collective action and by these
exceptions you would…

Stimson: of course you'll, you'll cut into the size of the new organization
[ie., the UN] by what you agreed to now

McCloy: Yes, that's right. That was recognized...and maybe the same nation
that had done the underhanded stirring up might veto any action any action
by the regional arrangement to stop it--to put a stop to the aggression.
Now that's the thing that they [Russia] are afraid of, but, and *it's a
real fear* and they have a real asset and they are a real military asset to
us.

Stimson: Yes,

McCloy: but on the other hand *we have a very strong interest in being able
to intervene promptly in Europe* where the--twice now within a generation
we've been forced to send our sons over some…

Stimson: Yes

McCloy: relatively minor Balkan incident, and *we don't want to lose the
right to intervene promptly in Europe* merely for the sake of preserving
our South American solidarity because after all we, we will have England,
England's navy and army, if not France's on our side, whereas the South
American people are not particularly strong in their own right, and the
armies start in Europe and they don't start in South America. However, I've
been taking the position that we ought to have our cake and eat it too;
that *we ought to be free to operate under this regional arrangement in
South America*, at the same time intervene promptly in Europe; that we
oughtn't to give away either asset...

Stimson: I think so, decidedly, because in the Monroe Doctrine and in- -and
that runs into hemispherical solidarity

McCloy: Yes

Stimson: we've gotten something we've developed over the decades

McCloy: Yes

Secretary: and it's in, it's an asset in case, and I don't think it ought
to be taken away from us....

(Gabriel Kolko, "The Politics of War")

Of course, now that the Soviet Union no longer exists, the United Nations
is more than ever a tool of territorial and economic ambitions by the USA
and its allies. Put in old-school Marxist terms, the UN is not an
expression of Empire but imperialism. Power grabs by big fish in the ocean
at the expense of smaller fish--rather than Kantian pieties--is the only
way to understand the United Nations.

Of course, if one sweeps the nasty realities of the formation of the United
Nations under the rug, it becomes that much easier to convince oneself that
Empire might not be such a bad thing after all. Even after Hardt and Negri
admit that globalizing tendencies involve a lot of "oppression and
exploitation," they still maintain that the process must continue. Why?
"Despite recognizing all this [bad stuff], we insist on asserting that the
construction of Empire is a step forward in order to do away with any
nostalgia for the power structures that preceded it and refuse any
political strategy that involves returning to the old arrangement, such as
trying to resurrect the nation-state against capital." In other words,
socialism defended by armed working people who would sacrifice their lives
at places like the Bay of Pigs in order to build a better future for their
children and grandchildren is a waste of time.

Leaving no doubt whatsoever about their intentions, they declare, "Today we
should all clearly recognize that the time of such proletarian revolution
is over." With this declaration, they stand side-by-side with Roger Burbach
who, as cited above, believes: "The left has to accept the fact that the
Marxist project for revolution launched by the Communist Manifesto is dead."

Unlike Burbach, Hardt and Negri have little interest in or sympathy for
local struggles against the ravages of globalization:

"We are well aware that in affirming this thesis we are swimming against
the current of our friends and comrades on the Left. In the long decades of
the current crisis of the communist, socialist, and liberal Left that has
followed the 1960s, a large portion of critical thought, both in the
dominant countries of capitalist development and in the subordinated ones,
has sought to recompose sites of resistance that are founded on the
identities of social subjects or national and regional groups, often
grounding political analysis on the *localization of struggles*." (Empire,
p. 44)

Hardt and Negri now regard such local struggles as they would tainted meat
on a supermarket shelf because they "can easily devolve into a kind of
primordialism that fixes and romanticizes social relations and identities."

Although their prose, as is universally the case, hovers ethereally above
real people and real events, it is not too hard to figure out what they are
referring to. They obviously have in mind struggles involving the Mayan
people of Chiapas or, before them, the Mayans of Guatemala who looked to
Rigoberta Menchu for inspiration and guidance.

Don't Hardt and Negri have a point? Isn't it self-defeating to rally people
around 'primordial' texts like the Popul Vuh, the Mayan sacred text that
figures heavily in "I, Rigoberta Menchu." Wouldn't such people be better
off assimilating themselves as rapidly as possible into a global network of
political and social relations on the basis of what they have in common,
rather than what distinguishes them?

In reality, local struggles have exactly that dynamic. A study of Menchu's
career would verify that. Starting out as a simple Mayan peasant with a
desire to defend local communal lands against the onslaughts of
agri-business and the Guatemalan army and death squads, she transformed
herself into a global figure connected to indigenous movements everywhere
as well as somebody committed to progressive social transformation.

Sadly, what Hardt and Negri miss entirely is how socialist consciousness is
formed. It is not on the basis of abstract socialist propaganda but rather
the dialectical interaction between experiences based on local struggles,
either at the plant-gate or the rural farming village, and ideas
transmitted to fighters by Marxist activists, the "vanguard" in Lenin's
terms. The construction of such a vanguard remains as urgent a task as it
was in Lenin's days, a period not unlike our own which faced thinkers not
unlike Hardt and Negri.


Louis Proyect
Marxism mailing list: http://www.marxmail.org