inescapable. In both cases, a vocabulary
for subjecthood evolved. Subjects were not fully formed individuals;
their primary identities were communal and collective. If they had
rights to land, property, or protection, it was as members of a clan,
caste, or tribe. They were “traditional” peoples who made no progress
and indeed were barely aware of the passage of time.
The distinction between subject and citizen was less important in
premodern eras when rulers unapologetically exploited their own
domestic populations, and as late as the eighteenth century only a
small percentage of the global population could even be classifi ed as
“free.” Sovereigns and nobles generated surplus wealth by exploiting tenants, peasants, serfs, and laborers. In return, these marginal
peoples received some measure of protection. In sharing even the
Introduction 15
most minimal bonds of kinship with their rulers, they qualifi ed as
nominally human. The European nationalist regimes that transformed their lower orders into citizens in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries also resorted to harsh tactics that might appear, at
fi rst glance, imperial in character. But ultimately these peasants and
townsmen emerged as full and equal members of a nation-state. Real
assimilation, forced or otherwise, was part of the process of nation
building, not empire building. Empires needed permanently exploitable subjects, not rights-holding citizens, to remain viable. Lucrative
extraction was possible on a long-term basis only so long as subject
peoples remained alien and inassimilable. The question of identity,
what determined who was a subject and who was a citizen, is essential
to understanding the true nature of empires, and to their history.
Yet the nation was not the end of history. Indeed, the accelerated
expansion of global networks of culture, commerce, investment, and
migration in the second half of the twentieth century provided a powerful counterweight to the nation-state. Some scholars have gone so
far as to argue that global capital now constitutes a new, more powerful form of sovereignty that has eclipsed the national variety.14 Transnational forces have also created new forms of pan-national identity
that give like-minded groups of people additional means to challenge,
if not thwart, the agendas of national governments, multinational
corporations, and would-be empire builders.
Although the era of formal empire is conclusively over, policy
debates, particularly after the terrorist attacks of 2001, frequently
revolved around imperial themes. Critics on the left indicted the
United States for behaving imperially in adopting an aggressive foreign policy, while right-wing revisionists and neoconservatives sought
to rehabilitate empire to demonstrate that military force was the most
effective way to impose order and stability on a global scale. No one in
the Bush administration seriously aspired to acquire an empire when
they invaded Iraq in 2003; even the most ardent imperial apologists
knew that this was simply no longer possible or politically defensible.
Rather, the architects of the Iraqi occupation believed that they could
use authoritarian methods to replace an enemy regime with a liberal
prowestern government. Like earlier generations of conquerors, they
continued to believe that hard power could be used creatively to persuade, inspire, and reeducate a defeated “inferior” people.
16 THE RULE OF EMPIRES
Critics on the American and European left were equally ignorant of the historical precedents they invoked in their attacks
on the “Bush doctrine.” Even some of the harshest opponents of
the war in Iraq failed to recognize that imperial rule was no longer feasible in an era that accepts national self-determination as
a basic human right. Castigating the Bush administration for its
unrestrained use of hard power, they produced a raft of books and
editorials warning ominously that the