Charles Tilly, Columbia University, reviews
Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri
Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press,
2000, pp. xvii, 478
Empire’s dust jacket features a
satellite photo of spiraling white clouds above indistinct purple seas. Beyond
the earth’s edge, it displays black nothingness. The designer must have
read the book. Although Saskia Sassen’s blurb describes it as “An
extraordinary book, with enormous intellectual depth and a keen sense of the
history-making transformation that is beginning to take shape,” Hardt and
Negri orbit so far from the concrete realities of contemporary change that
their readers see little but clouds, hazy seas, and nothingness beyond. Behold
their central claim: an invisibly virtual Empire (always capitalized and always
singular) is now displacing and surpassing the capitalist state – even
the United States of America – as the locus of world power. Territorial,
racial, sexual, and cultural boundaries cease to matter. “With boundaries
and differences suppressed or set aside,” Hardt and Negri declare,
“the Empire is a kind of smooth space across which subjectivities glide
without substantial resistance or conflict” (198). Moreover, the
Empire’s “biopower” extends beyond tools, machines, and
organizations to bodies, thoughts, and social life as a whole. Despite existing
in no particular place, Empire exercises unitary agency. It advertises itself
as history’s eternal end. That claim is false: in a new dialectic, Empire
creates its antithesis in a connected multitude (never capitalized, but always
singular) whose rising will eventually reappropriate and transform imperial
means of control. The organizing argument sounds global echoes of the Communist
Manifesto. Unlike
Marx and Engels, however, Hardt and Negri consider their redeeming multitude to
consist not of workers, not even of persons, but of “productive, creative
subjectivities of globalization” (60). Much of the book’s first
half glosses 19th and 20th century world history as a
shift from European to American imperialism, with the US ended up as the new
system’s peace police but not its master. Resistance to American
imperialism, in that gloss, destroyed American hegemony by connecting everyone
with a worldwide network of capital. In the process, international migration
became the principal means of class struggle; exploited people opted out.
(Enthusiasm for this argument leads Hardt and Negri to dismiss 19th
century Atlantic migrations wrongly as “lilliputian” compared to
their late 20th century counterparts; proportionately speaking, the
30 million Europeans and 9 million Africans who crossed the Atlantic exceeded
today’s international flows.) Their analysis aligns Hardt and Negri
against other leftists who call for resistance to globalization, especially
those who advocate local action against global forces. It also leads them to
disparage defenders of non-governmental organizations and new forms of
international law – including the impeccably leftist Richard Falk –
as dupes of institutions whose moral intervention actually advances the
imperial work of globalization. As if that shucking off of potential
sympathizers were insufficient, Hardt and Negri reject the stirring
concreteness of the Communist Manifesto, making a virtue of that rejection. They
cast their argument abstractly, in idiosyncratically defined terms, with few
concrete illustrations of the social processes they have in mind. They insist,
in fact, that the coming of Empire has annihilated all external criteria for
judging political systems: “In Empire, no subjectivity is outside, and all
places have been subsumed in a general ‘non-place.’ The
transcendental fiction of politics can no longer stand up and has no
argumentative utility because we all exist entirely within the realm of the
social and the political” (353). As Hardt and Negri declare, such a
position rules out conventional forms of measurement and evidence. A skeptical
reader can nevertheless legitimately question the book’s presumptions and
assertions. Given the world’s recent fragmentation, inequality, and
internecine conflict, what warrant have we for concluding that it is, as Hardt
and Negri claim, rapidly becoming a seamless web of control? What process of
capitalist conquest and infiltration could possibly have woven that web? How
did capital activate its three alleged means of control – bombs, money,
ether – and how did those three means produce their effects on the whole
world’s population? Is it true, for example, that expanded communication
“imposes a continuous and complete circulation of signs” (347)?
Might we not have thought, on the contrary, that the Internet (currently
accessible to about 6 percent of the earth’s population, with dramatic
inequalities of information available to different segments of that 6 percent)
exacerbates discontinuities in the availability of information? Until we hear
more about how Empire’s causes produce their effects, it would be wise to
retain a measure of skepticism.