Republican imperialism at its finest – Vercingetorix throws down his arms at the feet of Julius Caesar (1899) by Lionel Royer (public domain)

(13) REPUBLICAN & DEMOCRATIC IMPERIALISM 

Republican and democratic imperialism seem obvious oxymorons.

Well, certainly democratic imperialism does – republican imperialism somewhat less so as it simply requires that the imperial state be a republic rather than formal monarchy or government by emperor.  Indeed, the top empire in my Top 10 Empires originated as republican imperialism although it evolved into a formal empire – the Roman Empire. Other examples of republican imperialism include the Venetian Empire as well as the modern French Empire (once France was a republic) and less formal empires such as the American empire, Soviet (and modern Russian) empire, and the Third Reich.

However, democratic imperialism remains an oxymoron – “the intersection, overlap, or tension between democratic political systems at home and the practice or justification of overseas empire, hegemony, or foreign intervention.”

The third top empire in my Top 10 Empires, the British Empire, is perhaps the classic example of democratic imperialism, albeit progressively over time with increasing enfranchisement – which coincided with increasing reluctance or sentiment for maintaining its empire. However, that was reflected also by other empires such as the American empire or those of increasingly democratic or enfranchised western European nations – at least French, Dutch, and Belgian empires, as well as arguably also German and Italian empires.

Map of all the territories once occupied by the Roman Empire, along with locations of limes and borders (public domain image)

(12) DEFENSIVE IMPERIALISM

“Now look at what you made me do!”.

Alternatively, I needed my empire to defend myself.

As ridiculous as it may seem, empires have asserted that their imperialism was defensive or reactive, and historian have even agreed with or asserted it for them.

“Defensive imperialism is a security-motivated theory of empire-building that views territorial expansion as a reactive response to external threats rather than planned, aggressive conquest…states often conquered reluctantly out of fear, self-protection, or broken treaties”.

The most famous example of defensive imperialism is the one that may also seem most surprising, the Roman Empire. Indeed, the theory of defensive imperialism originated “in Roman studies in the late 19th century”, albeit it persisted after that and was “closest to the argument favored by the Romans themselves”.

“The theory draws its strength from the apparent inconsistency of Roman foreign policy, the slowness with which their rulers acted (or reacted), and their reluctance to annex. In this pattern economic and ideological factors appear secondary at most.”

Perhaps not coincidentally given the theory was contemporary with the British Empire approaching its peak, defensive imperialism was also asserted for the British Empire – “in the late Victorian and Edwardian eras, figures like James Bryce compared Roman expansion to the British Empire, arguing that external dangers and frontier instability forced further conquest”.

Admittedly, claims of defensive imperialism are the exception rather than the rule, particularly for pre-modern empires that tended to cheerfully revel in conquest for its own sake – what is best in life is “to crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations in their women”. That quote from the Conan film is famously adapted from one attributed to Genghis Khan in a historical biography of Genghis Khan (Charles Lamb’s “Genghis Khan: The Conqueror of All Men”), which notably also included “to take their horses and goods”. While the latter was probably apocryphal, it certainly reflected the ethos of the Mongol Empire.

Even so, claims of defensive imperialism are significant. After all, two of the top three empires in my Top 10 Empires have asserted it for themselves or had historians assert it for them, the Roman and British Empires – and another entry, the Macedonian Empire, might arguably be added to them, at least in so far as Alexander the Great claimed his invasion of Persia to be a “retaliatory defensive act of justice” (for the Greek-Persian Wars and Persia’s control of or interference with Greek cities).

Claims of defensive imperialism haven’t exactly gone out of fashion either – “scholars point out that ancient and modern powers frequently weaponize defensive language and just-war theory to legitimize pre-emptive strikes and territorial control”.

Arguably the two most famous and iconic corporate brand logos in the world – Coca-Cola and McDonalds (fair use)

(11) CULTURAL IMPERIALISM

Coca-Colonization and McDonaldization!

Yes, cultural imperialism is much broader than the spread of American corporate brands – extending throughout culture and cultural values or traditions – but Coca-Cola and McDonalds serve (heh) as useful symbols of it, as well as the most recognizable.

In my opinion, however, cultural imperialism is a somewhat nebulous concept, typically co-opted for ideological or political argument rather than to connote anything meaningful.

Sure, empires routinely engage in the acculturation of their imperial subjects, so much so that there’s a whole litany of terms with the suffix “isation” or “ization” for it, such as Romanization for the Roman Empire, Americanization for  the global influence of American culture (including Coca-Cola and McDonalds), and so on.

To the extent that such acculturation is imposed by direct imperial diktat or policy, then it probably counts as cultural imperialism. Outside of that, it is less clear.

For example, cultural imperialism is usually defined in terms of “asymmetrical power” – that is, “it relies on economic, political, or military superiority rather than equal cultural exchange”.

Firstly, however, I’m not sure that “cultural exchange” is ever entirely “equal”, or even what would qualify a “cultural exchange” as “equal”. A better adjective might have been “free” rather than “equal”.

Secondly, and more fundamentally, cultural exchange itself may “rely” on – that is, be influenced or motivated by – “economic, political, or military superiority”, to emulate or achieve that superiority. Indeed, military “superiority” is one of the clearest examples of cultural exchange for such a purpose, particularly if that superiority is based on some technological or organizational development.

Also, as critics of the concept have pointed out, it oversimplifies how imperial subjects or other people interact with “foreign” or imported culture – they often “reinterpret, resist, or localize imported culture rather than passively absorbing it.”

It also overlooks “counter-flows” – that is, the culture imported by an imperial nation from its subjects. For that matter, it overlooks the extent to which imperial nations also routinely practice cultural laissez-faire or tolerance when it comes to their subjects – to minimize disruption and resistance, avoid unnecessary drain on their resources, co-opt local elites, or even from genuine love or respect for local culture among other reasons.

C;lassic gunboat diplomacy, even more so for the depolyment of ships designated as gunboats – The Crisis at Zanzibar, British War-Ships engaged in the Bombardment of the Sultan’s Palace by artist Fred T. Jane for the Illustrated London News, 5 September 1896 (public domain image)

(10) GUNBOAT DIPLOMACY

“An aircraft carrier is 100,000 tons of diplomacy”.

Send in the boats!

Ah yes, a blunter and more prosaic phrase for the reality of imperialism than either civilizing mission or manifest destiny, although the diplomacy part of the phrase is doing a lot of heavy lifting.

While the point is typically to avoid the actual use of military force or at least more than a show of it, the diplomacy of gunboat diplomacy relies on the threat of superior military force to bring imperial power to bear on a weaker opponent, potentially as an imperial subject or supplicant.

Not surprisingly given the reference to gunboat, it was a phrase used particularly for the use of superior naval firepower as an instrument of nineteenth century European maritime empires or the United States.

“Gunboat diplomacy is the pursuit of foreign policy objectives with the aid of conspicuous displays of naval power, implying or constituting a direct threat of warfare should terms not be agreeable to the superior force. The term originated in the 19th century, during the age of imperialism, when Western powers would use their superior military capabilities, particularly their naval assets, to intimidate less powerful nations into granting concessions. The mere presence of warships off a country’s coast was often enough to have a significant effect, making the actual use of force rarely necessary.”

Not that gunboat diplomacy is limited to gunboats in the nineteenth century but has persisted through the twentieth century to the contemporary use of naval power, or the combination of naval and air power encapsulated in Kissinger’s quote about aircraft carriers as diplomacy, or indeed to air power – bomber or drone diplomacy as it were – or the use of special forces.

I would argue that gunboat diplomacy also has a long history before the nineteenth century – indeed for as long as boats have been combined with guns, or even beforehand where massed fleets or other attributed of pre-gunpowder navies could be deployed for shows of force or threats short of the actual use of force.

It would also extend to limited deployment and threats or shows of force on land. The Roman emperor Antoninus Pius reputedly engaged in what might be called legion diplomacy when he “apparently stood off a resurgent Parthian Empire (under Vologasius IV) by writing a letter warning that “encroachment on Roman territory would not be taken lightly”. The Roman Empire also offers the examples of punitive raids, or the “fortification diplomacy” of other states.

Yes, you can read the title – the poem by Rudyard Kipling as it was originally published, and the poem that has probably alone done most to undermine his modern literary reputation (public domain image)

(9) CIVILIZING MISSION – WHITE MAN’S BURDEN

Although associated with – or claimed by – European colonial empires, a belief of civilizing mission is the flipside of the belief in manifest destiny that is inherent to most empires, flipped that is from the “destiny” of the imperial nation to its “responsibility” for the “benefit” of its subjects.

Well, in theory anyway – almost every empire proclaims itself to be spreading civilisation or bringing some benefit to its subjects, and all but the most destructive have at least some merits in those claims.

That’s including those European empires. As destructive as they were, they did bring the development of trade and industry, transport and communication, and technology and science that ultimately was the reason they were able to have empires in the first place, however unevenly and for their own interests first. Not to mention social and political ideas, some of which such as nationalism and liberalism were ultimately to prove self-destructive to their empires.

Still, it can’t help but add insult to the injury of imperial rule for the rulers to claim they are doing so for the civilization of their subjects, particularly when killing, starving or enforcing the servitude of those subjects.

That’s even more so when it is preached as a “burden” for the imperial rulers, as Rudyard Kipling did in his poem “The White Man’s Burden”, its subtitle expressly addressed to the United States for the Philippines after the Spanish-American War, exhorting the United States to assume the same “burden” as the British did for their empire. It was astonishingly tone-deaf even for its time, as demonstrated by contemporary criticism such as that by Mark Twain – and probably is the one poem that has alone done most to undermine Kipling’s modern literary reputation ever since.

American Progress painting by John Gast – destiny made manifest (public domain image)

(8) MANIFEST DESTINY

Yes, manifest destiny is something that might seem unique to the American territorial expansion, westward across the continent (and beyond across the Pacific) for which the phrase was coined by its advocates.

“Manifest destiny was the expansionist colonial belief in the 19th-century United States that American settlers were destined to expand westward across North America, and that this belief was both obvious (“manifest“) and certain (“destiny“).”

However, I consider that a belief in the “manifest destiny” of imperial claims or territorial expansion, divine or otherwise, is common to most empires, if not all of them. After all, from the point of view of the imperial nation, if empire or expansion weren’t its manifest destiny, then it wouldn’t be in a position to be made manifest but instead on the receiving end of being someone else’s manifest destiny.

Admittedly, a belief in manifest destiny is perhaps highest for settler colonialism, particularly by adjoining territorial expansion or annexation. After all, it takes a strong sense of your destiny to move or settle into someone else’s territory and claim it as your own by right.

Ironically, the closest parallel to American belief in manifest destiny by territorial expansion is that of Russia eastward across the Eurasia (and beyond across the Pacific).

Alfred W. Crosby – “Ecological Imperialism: The Biological Expansion of Europe 900-1900”, Cambridge University Press, 1986 hardcover edition (fair use)

(7) COLUMBIAN EXCHANGE – ECOLOGICAL IMPERIALISM

The Columbian exchange – the massive and widespread transfer of plants, animals, human populations, and communicable diseases between the Old World and the New World from Columbus onwards – might well have happened simply from trade rather than imperialism. Well, perhaps except for the human populations.

However, it did happen from imperialism and is distinctive enough for its own type of imperialism as ecological imperialism. Indeed, the historian who coined the term Columbian exchange in a book of that title – American historian Alfred Crosby – also coined the term ecological imperialism in the title of a sequel book.

Of course, the focus of Crosby’s ecological imperialism is on the European side of the equation – that is, Europe’s exports of biological species or population rather than those it imported from elsewhere, where the latter largely consisted of cultivated plants (with superstars such as potatoes and tomatoes) and largely beneficial.

“Crosby introduced ecological imperialism as an explanatory concept that points out the contribution of European biological species such as animals, plants and pathogens in the success of European colonists” – foreshadowing arguments much to the same effect by Jared Diamond’s book Guns, Germs and Steel.

Ecological imperialism may not have had the same deliberate nature of other aspects of imperialism – and even where it was deliberate, often may not have had the same awareness or intention of consequences, the most destructive of which can be summarized in one word, extinction.

That is, extinction of human populations through disease, often overlapping with gen0cide, but also extinction of animal (or plant) species, through such things as competition with or predation by invasive species but also something that might be added as another aspect of ecological imperialism – human over-hunting or habitat destruction.

The same destructive consequences recurred with European ecological imperialism in Australasia and Oceania.

Map of the Roman fleets and major naval bases during the Principate, 27 BC to AD 284. (public domain image)

(6) MARE NOSTRUM – IMPERIAL LAKE

Mare nostrum, literally “our sea” in Latin, connoting the core of the Roman Empire – its complete control of the Mediterranean Sea and coastline, as a perfect fusion of territorial and maritime empire.

No other state has come close to that fusion of territorial or maritime empire for total domination of a maritime body of water – a sea, let alone an ocean – although some maritime empires or naval powers have come close in terms of naval predominance, which we’ll come back to with that term of imperial lake. Speaking of lakes, I’m obviously excluding those bodies of water such as lakes or rivers that are essentially internal to a single nation or state, hence that qualifier of maritime which typically connotes sea or ocean.

The Roman Empire had complete naval predominance that was effectively a monopoly throughout its imperial period – in the absence of any maritime enemy in the form of a rival state, although the Roman navy still had to contend with piracy and barbarian incursions that were essentially also piracy until the Vandals managed to escalate to being a rival naval state.

What made the Roman mare nostrum distinctive was its total control of the coastline as territorial empire as well as naval power, and the classical Roman Empire remains the only state in history to have controlled the entire Mediterranean coast. Other states – the eastern Roman empire, the Arab caliphates, the Ottoman empire, and the Axis powers – have come close to or contended for that control of the Mediterranean coastline but fell short or were successfully contested. Fascist Italy even revived the use of the term in its claim to Mediterranean empire and Roman succession.

However, as I said, other maritime empires or naval powers have come close to the same naval predominance over a body or bodies of water, although they have tended to confine their control of coastlines to islands or key points as strategic bases or areas of command.

Hence, the informal use of the term lake to connote that naval predominance, mirroring the use of the term mare nostrum – and has indeed been substituted for it, describing the Mediterranean as a “Roman lake”.

For example, I have seen the Indian Ocean and Pacific Ocean described as a Portuguese lake and Spanish lake respectively at the outset of the period of European maritime exploration, although both were soon encroached upon or contested by other European maritime powers. One of those powers – the British – effectively displaced Portuguese or other naval powers to claim the Indian Ocean as a “British lake”, although really British naval predominance in the nineteenth century was such to make all the world’s oceans (or World Ocean) their lake. The Pax Britannica was essentially naval, something that was inherited by its American successor.