perry anderson
perry anderson
SITUATIONISM À L’ENVERS?
I
n his thoughtful consideration of Adam Tooze’s Crashed:
How a Decade of Financial Crises Changed the World, Cédric
Durand salutes the magnitude of Tooze’s achievement—a ‘landmark account’ of the mechanisms precipitating the economic
disaster that started to engulf the West in 2008 and of the remedies and
ruins that followed. Particularly impressive, he remarks, is the way the
book illuminates ‘the technical workings of financial markets and assetbacked commercial paper without losing sight of the political dynamics
at stake’:
As Tooze writes: ‘Political choice, ideology and agency are everywhere
across the narrative with highly consequential results, not merely as disturbing factors but as vital reactions to the huge volatility and contingency
generated by the malfunctioning of the giant “systems” and “machines”
and apparatuses of financial engineering.’ Crashed is, indeed, a highly
political book.1
At the same time, Durand observes, its narrative is no simple—or rather
in this case, of course, highly complex and intricate—empirical tracking
of the crisis and its outcomes. It possesses definite ‘conceptual underpinnings’, suggested by Tooze himself in acknowledging his debt to Wynne
Godley’s use of ‘stock-flow consistency’ modelling of the financial interactions between public, private and foreign sectors. This in Durand’s
view supplies ‘the unstated backbone’ of Tooze’s general argument.2
Both judgements appear sound. But in Durand’s exposition a paradox
attaches to each of them, since by the end of his review, somewhat different notes are struck. For Godley, one of the key advantages of the
stock-flow consistency approach was that it integrated the financial
with the real economy, as alternative models did not. Durand, however,
remarks that Crashed ‘does not discuss the concrete intertwining of
48 nlr 119
the financial and productive sectors in the global economy at all’, and
so ‘fails to set the financial crisis in the context of the structural crisis
tendencies within contemporary capitalist economies.’ This observation
in turn generates another, which might seem to put in question Durand’s
overall tribute to the book. For there he writes of ‘Tooze’s unwillingness
to investigate the relations between the political and the economic’, a
reluctance that ‘ultimately undermines his account of the crisis decade.’
Logically, the question then arises: do these two apparent contradictions
lie in Tooze’s work, or in Durand’s review of it? Or can both be coherent
in their own terms?
1. conceptualizing finance
Perhaps the best way of approaching this question is to turn to Durand’s
own work on the metastases of contemporary capitalism. With a reticence that does him honour—all but unheard of in an Anglosphere
where even bibliographies so often become mere catalogues of selfpromotion—he makes no reference to Le Capital fictif, which appeared
in France in 2014 (its English edition Fictitious Capital in 2017), though
its bearing on the concerns of Crashed is plain. A succinct, luminous
study, it displays a combination rare in the literature on the economic
landscape of the new century: in a bare 150 pages, a driving conceptual
energy joined to a controlling empirical grasp of statistical data across
all the major capitalist states. Organized around the growth in the object
of its title—a term coined by the first Earl of Liverpool, Secretary for
War in North’s administration under George iii, received by Ricardo,
theorized in differing ways by Marx and Hayek alike, whose history it
traces—Fictitious Capital sets out to show the character and logic of the
financial system that brought the world to crisis in 2008, and has only
continued to burgeon since.
What are the leading themes of the book? At the root of the instability
that has triggered successive crises in the last forty years, first in the
1 ‘In the Crisis Cockpit’, nlr 116/117, March–June 2019, pp. 201–2, 212. Crashed
was received with virtually unanimous applause in the periodical press—New
York Times, Financial Times, Washington Post, Guardian, New York Review of Books,
London Review of Books etc.—but, if only for reasons of space, little or no engagement in depth.
2 ‘In the Crisis Cockpit’, p. 208.
anderson: History 49
periphery and then in the core of the global capitalist economy, lies
the peculiarity that distinguishes financial markets from markets in
goods and services.
Whereas in normal times rising prices weaken demand in the real economy, the opposite is generally true of financial securities: the more prices
increase, the more these securities are in demand. The same applies the
other way round: during a crisis, the fall in prices engenders fire sales,
which translate into the acceleration of the price collapse. This peculiarity
of financial products derives from the fact that their purchase—dissociated
from any use-value—corresponds to a purely speculative rationale; the
objective is to obtain surplus-value by reselling them at a higher price at
some later point.
On the way up, ‘the self-sustaining price rise fuelled by agents’ expectations is further exaggerated by credit. Indebtedness increases prices,
and since the securities can serve as the counterpart to fresh loans, their
increasing value allows agents to take on more debt.’ On the way down,
as asset bubbles start to burst, ‘economic agents trying to meet the deadlines on their debt repayments are forced to sell at discounted prices’,
unleashing ‘a self-sustaining movement towards depression, which only
state intervention can interrupt’.3
Since the deregulation of capital flows in the eighties, this general
mechanism has been turbo-charged by the huge expansion of financial
markets within the global economic system, with not only vastly larger
forms and magnitudes of private credit, public bonds and equities—the
three forms of fictitious capital designated by Marx—but the development of new kinds of transaction still further removed from processes
of production, as shadow banking and financial innovations twist
and lengthen the chains of indebtedness. ‘Contract swaps, structured
products and option contracts are multiplying and combining among
themselves. They are limited by nothing other than the imaginations of
the financial actors.’ High-volume speculation ceases to be an outgrowth
of booms: thanks to the flexibility of derivatives, ‘it becomes an activity
independent of the business cycle’.4
The result is a radical transformation of the relations between financial and commercial transactions, and
a vertiginous rise in the weight of finance in the world economy. By
3 Cédric Durand, Fictitious Capital, London and New York 2017, pp. 28–9.
Henceforward fc. 4 fc, pp. 66, 69.
50 nlr 119
2007, the total (notional) value of derivatives was some ten times that of
global gdp. By 2013 the value of purely financial transactions outclassed
those of trade and investment combined by a hundred to one.5
That such an inverted pyramid should in one way or another topple
into crises is no surprise, each time requiring central banks to act as
unlimited lender of last resort, and governments to sustain demand by
letting deficits soar, to save the system—the crash of 2008 being the
latest and most spectacular case to date. But as Durand observes, the
very success of such rescue operations breeds the conditions for the next
crisis. If ‘economic policies have undeniably succeeded in their effort
to keep the collapse under control: all the post-war financial crises have
been contained’, the subsequent return of confidence in due course
undoes itself, as financial operators become increasingly willing to take
new chances in the knowledge that central banks ‘will do everything to
prevent systemic risk becoming a reality’. Such is the paradox of government intervention. ‘As capacities for crisis-management improve and
financial actors as well as regulators become more optimistic’, financial
innovation revives and regulation relaxes, leading to yet more complex
and sophisticated products, expanding credit at the cost of the quality
of the assets acquired. ‘This, in turn, leads to small crises which are
rapidly overcome thanks to the improved capacity to handle them. This
cumulative dynamic produces a financial super-cycle through which
the accumulated risks become increasingly large—that is, the relative
weight of speculative finance and Ponzi schemes constantly increases’,
and with it the scale and cost of state intervention to contain the crisis.
According to imf calculations, between the autumn of 2008 and the
beginning of 2009, the total support extended to the financial sector by
states and central banks of the advanced capitalist countries was equivalent to 50.4 per cent of world gdp.
6
Profits without accumulation?
The swollen size of the financial sector in the economies of the West has
meant, as is well known, that its share of total profits has increased too.
For Durand, this raises the question, which has puzzled others working
in a more or less Marxist tradition, of where these profits come from. But
here, as he notes, there is a larger problem. Since the eighties, the rate
of investment in the core zone of capitalism has steadily fallen, and with
5 fc, pp. 69–71. 6 fc, pp. 31–2, 39.
anderson: History 51
it rates of growth, decade by decade. Yet in the same period, profits have
remained high. Indeed, as David Kotz has shown in these pages, in the
United States the years between 2010 and 2017 saw a rate of accumulation lower, yet a rate of profit higher, than in any decade since the time of
Reagan.7
So where are these profits in general coming from? Durand’s
answer is that they represent an updated version of Hobson’s vision of
the future at the start of the twentieth century: namely the extraction of
high levels of profit from investment in production in zones of cheap
labour on the periphery of the system, above all in Asia. If this is so, the
‘enigma of profits without accumulation’ would dissolve, because firms
are indeed investing; not in their domestic economies, where growth,
employment and wages stagnate, but in overseas locations, where they
have secured very high rates of return.
Prima facie there are two difficulties with this argument. The first is where
in principle the boundary of ‘fictitious’ capital—if defined as capital
which ‘circulates without production having yet been realized, representing a claim on a future real valorization process’8
—lies, since formally
speaking virtually all investment meets this criterion, as capital laid out
in anticipation of profitable returns.9 The second is how in practice the
significance of purely financial payments, as distinct from straightforward profits from productive operations, is to be estimated in the flow of
fdi to cheap labour markets.10 In taking dividends from foreign assets
as a proxy for these—he cites research from the us and France—it is
7 David Kotz, ‘End of the Neoliberal Era? Crisis and Restructuring in American
Capitalism’, nlr 113, Sept–Oct 2018, p. 45. 8 fc, p. 55. 9 See on this Costas Lapavitsas, Profiting Without Producing: How Finance Exploits Us
All, London and New York 2013, pp. 28–9, who defines Marx’s concept of fictitious
capital, distinguishing it from loan or other interest-bearing forms of capital, as ‘a
technical idea amounting to net present value accounting—that is, to ideal sums
of money that result via discounting streams of future payments attached to financial assets. These ideal sums correspond to financial prices that could fluctuate
independently of the money capital originally expended to purchase the financial
asset in question.’ Put in other terms, capital is ‘fictitious’ if expended not on anticipated future returns from production or physical assets, but on values generated at
one or more—today, infinitely many—removes from these, which can diverge very
sharply from them.
10 Suggesting a hesitancy in his exposition, Durand speaks both of the financialization of non-financial firms, and of the paradox of profits without accumulation, as
‘partly’ an illusion or an artifice, without further specification: Fictitious Capital,
pp. 145, 149.
52 nlr 119
unclear how far Durand is simply re-tabling the first difficulty. That a
‘knot between financialization and globalization’, as he puts it, exists, is
not in doubt. But how analytically it is tied remains elusive.
No such ambiguity attaches to the conclusion of his book. Contrary to
received wisdom, though financial instability has ‘negative externalities
that affect all actors’, it does not follow that its absence is therefore a
blessing for all. Financial stability is not in itself ‘a public good from
which everyone benefits’. It is enough to see the pay-offs of the operations to restore it in 2008–09. A year later the share of us government
bonds held by the richest 1 per cent of the population had climbed to
over 40 per cent. Durand’s verdict is trenchant:
The hegemony of finance—the most fetishized form of wealth—is only
maintained by the public authorities’ unconditional support. Left to itself,
fictitious capital would collapse; and yet would pull down the whole of our
economies in its wake. In truth, finance is a master blackmailer. Financial
hegemony dresses up in the liberal trappings of the market, yet captures
the old sovereignty of the state all the better to squeeze the body of society
to feed its own profits.11
ii. a staggered trilogy
Enough has been said to indicate why Durand could, for all his admiration of Crashed, conclude that ultimately it falls short of the promise of
its postulates. In itself, however, such a limiting judgement offers no
specification of what might explain the gap perceived between the two.
What kind of method permits bracketing of the real economy in a diagnostic of the vicissitudes of finance? What sort of politics informs the
architecture of the ensuing work? Initial clues to these questions can be
found in two passages from Tooze’s writing. In the first, a review of Geoff
Mann’s In the Long Run We Are All Dead: Keynesianism, Political Economy
and Revolution (2017), he defines the distinctive virtue of Keynes’s outlook as a ‘situational and tactical awareness’ of the problems for liberal
democracy inherent in the operations of the business cycle in a capitalist
economy, requiring pragmatic crisis management in the form of punctual adjustments without illusion of permanency.12 In the second, from
the Introduction to Crashed, he puts his political cards on the table. ‘The
11 fc, pp. 155, 100. 12 Tooze, ‘Tempestuous Seasons’, London Review of Books, 13 September 2018, p. 20.
anderson: History 53
tenth anniversary of 2008’, he writes, ‘is not a comfortable vantage-point
for a left-liberal historian whose personal loyalties are divided among
England, Germany, the “island of Manhattan” and the eu.’
13
To see how these remarks bear on the issues raised by Durand, it is
best to consider Crashed as the third volume of a trilogy, preceded by
Tooze’s two previous works, The Deluge: The Great War and the Remaking
of Global Order (2014) and The Wages of Destruction: The Making and
Breaking of the Nazi Economy (2006), a set which has arguably made
Tooze the outstanding modern economic historian of his cohort.14 As
a public voice, he is more than this, ranging across the pages of the
New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Die Zeit, Der Spiegel, Financial Times,
Guardian and more, as well as radio and television. The trio of books
that now defines his career does not trace a continuous narrative, and its
composition does not follow a chronological sequence—the first book
deals with the years 1933 to 1945, the second 1916 to 1931, the third 2006
to 2018—nor possess a uniform focus. But that it displays a governing
thematic unity is plain.
Hitler’s war
A massive work of detailed historical scholarship, Wages of Destruction
unfolds a commanding account of the German economy that Hitler
inherited on coming to power in the depths of the Depression, the rapid
recovery that the Nazi regime engineered with a high-speed rearmament
programme, the resource constraints it had hit by the end of the thirties,
its ensuing military conquests to overcome these, their over-reaching
in the invasion of the Soviet Union, and the desperate ratcheting up of
production, with an intensified resort to slave labour, as defeat loomed
in the east and the Allies closed in from the west. If Tooze overstates
the comparative backwardness of the German economy, dragged down
by its ailing small-peasant and archaic-landlord agriculture, and underrates the rise in popular consumption under the Third Reich so long as
13 Crashed: How a Decade of Financial Crises Changed the World, London 2018, p. 21. 14 Niall Ferguson, an obvious alternative candidate, after a trio of impressive works
in the nineties, culminating in The Pity of War (1998), altered course in the new century, a turn described in a later volume: ‘Like four of my last five books, Civilization
was from its earliest inception a television series as well as a book’: Civilization: The
West and the Rest, London 2011, p. xviii. Tooze, a close contemporary of Ferguson,
grew up partly in West Germany—he is bilingual—and has held positions successively at Cambridge, Yale and Columbia.
54 nlr 119
it remained at peace,15 such questions of emphasis scarcely affect the
scale of his achievement, above all as his account moves into high gear,
plotting the interplay between economic and military decisions in the
Second World War itself.
Framing this narrative, however, is a thesis whose connexion with it is
disconcertingly forced: a claim essentially supererogatory, tenuously
stitched around the story it tells of the ‘making and breaking’ of the Nazi
economy. Contrary to common belief, Tooze argues, in Hitler’s mind the
supreme enemy against which his mobilization of the Third Reich for
continental war took aim lay not in the steppes to the east, but across the
ocean to the far west. Not the bacillus of Bolshevism but the might of
the United States, headquarters of world Jewry, was the existential threat
to Germany that obsessed him, and governed his ambitions of aggression. The destruction of Communism and conquest of Russia was just a
means, not an end, Operation Barbarossa no more than a way-station—
the acquisition of a territorial and resource platform capable of rivalling
the vast open spaces of the American colossus, in the battle for world
domination. Historically, then, ‘America should provide the pivot for our
understanding of the Third Reich’. Projects of eastern expansionism,
along with rabid anti-Communism and anti-Semitism, were generic features of the German right after 1918. What distinguished Hitler, defining
‘the peculiarity and motivating dynamic’ of his regime, was the centrality
of America in his world-view as ‘the global hegemon in the making’, and
‘fulcrum of a world Jewish conspiracy for the ruination of Germany and
the rest of Europe’.16
On what evidence did Tooze base this construction? Principally, Hitler’s
so-called ‘Second Book’, an unfinished and unpublished sequel to Mein
Kampf, probably composed in 1928; and a scattering of obiter dicta during the War. But neither his words nor deeds provide any coherent
support for it. Like any European of his time, Hitler knew how large
was America’s population and domestic market, but in the 900 pages
of Mein Kampf, where the ‘infamous mental terror’ of socialism and
the Jewish features of the ‘grinning, ugly face of Marxism’ have pride
15 For these criticisms, see Robert Gordon, ‘Did Economics Cause World War Two?’,
National Bureau of Economic Research, Working Paper 14560, December 2008;
and Harold James, review of Wages of Destruction in Central European History, vol.
40, no. 2, June 2007, pp. 366–71.
16 The Wages of Destruction: The Making and Breaking of the Nazi Economy, New York
2007, pp. xxiv, 657, 284.
anderson: History 55
of place from the start, the United States is accorded not so much as
a single page, even paragraph; while the occasional mentions it earns
are not especially hostile. In his ‘Second Book’, Hitler did talk of the
future threat to Europe from America, given the size of its population
and wealth of its market, its lower production costs and stream of inventions, which could give it predominance over the Old World. But neither
the substance nor the salience of the ensuing thoughts correspond to
Tooze’s characterization of them.
For Hitler went on to explain that the key advantage of America lay in
its ethnic composition. Nordic emigration to the New World had created
in the United States a ‘new national community of the highest racial
quality’, a ‘young, racially select people’, filtering immigration to extract
the ‘Nordic element’ from all the nations of Europe, while barring the
door to Japanese and Chinese. Russia might have a comparable landsurface, but its population was of such poor quality that it could pose no
economic or political threat to the freedom of the world, merely flood
it with disease. Pan-European schemes to counter the rise of America,
hoping to cobble races of every sort together into some sort of union,
were a delusion of Jews and half-breeds. If Germany continued to allow
its best blood-lines to emigrate to the us, it was bound to deteriorate
into a people of no value; only a state that could ‘raise the racial value
of its people into the most practical national form’ could compete with
America. In the future, conflict between Europe and America might not
always be peacefully economic in nature, but the nation that would be
most in danger from the us was not Germany but England.17
In other words, when Hitler turned his mind to America, in his only
real disquisition on the country, it was in admiration rather than denunciation of the us, not merely as economically more advanced, but
essentially and explicitly as more Aryan than Germany itself was in danger of becoming. How large did these thoughts loom in 1928? Attention
to America lasts for a dozen pages—just 5 per cent of the manuscript of
his Second Book. South Tyrol commands double the space. Nor is there
evidence of any continuing preoccupation with the us in the succeeding
years. Far from being central to his world-view, in the thirties America
faded from Hitler’s horizon, as he decided that it was not, after all, a
stronghold of manly Nordic virtues, but a sink-hole of mongrels and
degenerates, in which at best only half—at other times they became a
17 Hitler’s Zweites Buch, Stuttgart 1961, pp. 123–32, 173.
56 nlr 119
sixth—of the population were of decent stock, and with Jews uppermost:
a state of weaklings, wracked with unemployment and enfeebled by neutrality laws, which could be discounted as a force in Weltpolitik.
18
Once entrenched in power, Hitler laid out the international tasks of the
Third Reich as he saw them in his ‘Four Year Plan’ memorandum of
August–September 1936. It contains not a line about America. After
explaining that ‘politics was the leadership and conduct of the historical struggles for life of peoples’, whose intensification since the French
Revolution had found its most extreme expression in Bolshevism—bent
on ‘eliminating the traditional elites of humanity and replacing them
with world-wide Jewry’—and declaring that no state could withdraw
or keep its distance from the ensuing confrontation, he announced in
italics: ‘Since Marxism has by its victory in Russia converted one of the largest empires in the world into its base of further operations, this question has
become critical. An ideologically founded, closed authoritarian will to aggression has entered the ideologically tattered democratic world.’ The democratic
states were incapable of waging a successful war against Soviet Russia,
leaving Germany—‘as always the ignition point of the Western world
against Bolshevik attacks’—the duty of securing its own existence
against impending catastrophe with every means at its disposal. ‘For the
victory of Bolshevism over Germany would not end in another Versailles, but
the final destruction, in fact extermination of the German people.’ The scale
of such a disaster was incalculable. ‘In face of the need to defend us against
this danger all other considerations recede as completely irrelevant’. Expanded
rearmament, at top speed, was required to ready the German army and
nation for war in four years.19
18 ‘Oscillating between admiration and contempt, Hitler’s conceptions of America
possessed neither any realistic nor stable content’: Detlef Junker, Kampf um die
Weltmacht: Die usa und das Dritte Reich 1933–1945, Dusseldorf 1988, p. 24, much
the best treatment of Hitler’s attitudes to the us. Tooze singles out Philipp Gassert’s
Amerika im Dritten Reich for praise, as a study superseding all others, but in fact it
has little to say about Hitler’s strategic relationship to America. Noting that up to
the early thirties, ‘power-political’ considerations played ‘virtually no role at all’ in
his thinking about the us, and even after coming to power, ‘gaps in Hitler’s image
of America’ have to be filled in by recourse to the ‘cultural environment’ in which
his foreign-policy decisions were taken, rather than any pronouncements by the
Führer himself, Gassert’s book is actually a ‘broad reception history’ of German
attitudes to America under the Third Reich, rather than a study of Hitler’s own
intermittent mish-mash of these: Amerika im Dritten Reich: Ideologie, Propaganda
und Volksmeinung, Stuttgart 1997, pp. 87–8. 19 ‘Denkschrift Hitlers über die Aufgaben eines Vierjahresplans’, Vierteljahrshefte für
Zeitgeschichte, April 1955, pp. 204–5, 210. Italics in original.
anderson: History 57
Here the abiding phobias of Mein Kampf, in its fusion of antiCommunism and anti-Semitism, had become state doctrine; the fight
against Bolshevism, in Ian Kershaw’s words, ‘the lodestar of Hitler’s
thinking on foreign policy’.20 The future of German expansion lay in
the east, not in the west. When in 1939 his invasion of Poland led, contrary to his calculations, to British and French declarations of war with
Germany, and he defeated France in short order, he expected Britain to
come to terms with him, as a long-time admirer of its empire, which
he had no wish to break up. Baffled by its refusal to do so, and unable
to invade it by sea, as early as July 1940 he decided instead to attack
Russia—in defiance of any rational strategic calculus, re-creating the war
on two fronts he had always maintained was the overriding reason for
German defeat in 1914–18. Military common sense would have directed
the Wehrmacht south rather than east, forcing Spain—where Franco’s
regime, little more than a year in the saddle, was in no position to resist
an ultimatum to fall into line—into war with Britain and, with control
of both sides of the Straits of Gibraltar, closing the Mediterranean, seizing Egypt and the Iraqi oilfields: a saunter compared with Operation
Barbarossa.21 But the ideological premium lay where it had always been:
wiping out Bolshevism and colonizing the east, in a war of extermination without counterpart in the west. Nor, in the expected aftermath of its
success, was there any talk of a conquered Russia providing a platform
for taking on America. Hitler’s Directive No. 32, ‘Preparations for the
Period after Barbarossa’, drafted eleven days before the Russian campaign began, was free of any thought of Washington, projecting instead
a sweep of the Wehrmacht around the Mediterranean, closing in on the
Suez Canal—just what he had fatally foregone.
Orphaned Europe
Where America did feature in Hitler’s outlook was in the Far East, where
he hoped Japan would pin down the us, preventing it from helping
Britain in Europe, and incited Tokyo to launch an attack on it already in
20 Ian Kershaw, Hitler: 1936–1945: Nemesis, London 2000, p. 12. 21 It is sometimes argued that Hitler did not proceed because of the conflict between
the French possession of Morocco and Spanish designs on it, not wishing to
antagonize Pétain’s regime by granting expansion to Franco’s, both ideologically
aligned with his own. This can scarcely have been an insuperable problem: in a
similar conflict, he had little difficulty imposing the second Vienna Award, dividing
Transylvania between Romania and Hungary, with a view to brigading both states
for what became Barbarossa.
58 nlr 119
April 1941, before Japan was either resolved or ready to do so. In itself a
rational enough calculation, Hitler rendered it lunatic by promising that
Germany would declare war on America as soon as Japan did, and being
as good as his word in December, bringing down on him the world’s
greatest power without having any possibility of so much as reaching it
by land, sea or air.22 Tooze correctly observes that this ‘sealed the fate of
Germany’,23 without registering how fatal it also is to his construction of
the centrality of America to Hitler’s world-view. For what the Führer’s
gratuitous gift to Roosevelt (who would have had great difficulty in declaring war on Germany in the wake of Pearl Harbor, when national outrage
and demand for retribution were focused on Japan) revealed was Hitler’s
staggering level of inconsequence and ignorance where anything to do
with the United States was actually concerned.
In a respectful but wide-ranging critique of Wages of Destruction, the
most substantial engagement with it to date, Dylan Riley cites Adorno’s
cool verdict: ‘The German ruling clique drove towards war because they
were excluded from a position of imperial power. But in their exclusion
lay the reason for the blind and clumsy provincialism that made Hitler’s
and Ribbentrop’s policies uncompetitive and their war a gamble.’24
From 1942 onwards Hitler would, in his rambling monologues to intimates, have more to say about the us, increasingly vituperated in Nazi
pronouncements as—an inherently mobile location—the headquarters of world Jewry, but never rising above know-nothing bluster and
dilettantism. His world-view comprised a limited number of idées fixes—
anti-Communism, anti-Semitism, a racialized social Darwinism—to
which passing moods or fancies could add a wide variety of temporary
hobby-horses and inconsistent opinions, vague and self-contradictory
ideas about America among them.
In framing Wages of Destruction by Hitler’s relationship to America, however, Tooze was not making an arbitrary decision. For the starting-point of
22 In January 1942 Oshima, the Japanese ambassador in Berlin, reported to Tokyo:
‘The Führer is of the view that England can be destroyed. How the usa can be
defeated, he doesn’t yet know’; see Junker, Kampf um die Weltmacht, who makes
short work of the notion that Hitler ever had a serious plan for the conquest of
America: pp. 25, 31–2.
23 Wages of Destruction, p. 668. 24 Dylan Riley, ‘The Third Reich as Rogue Regime: Adam Tooze’s Wages of
Destruction’, Historical Materialism, vol. 22, nos 3–4, 2014, p. 346. The quotation is
from Minima Moralia, London and New York 2005, p. 106.
anderson: History 59
his narrative is not the backdrop that might be expected of a study of the
Nazi economy, the Great Depression. More devastating in its effects in
Germany than in any other industrial society, the slump is taken as given,
without causal explanation. What takes centre stage is the tragic failure of
the German elites to hold fast to the wisdom of Stresemann, the leading
statesman of the twenties, in seeing that the path to recovery after defeat
in the First World War lay not in futile rebellion against the settlement
at Versailles but in signalling Germany’s willingness to pay reparations,
and thereby opening the door to ‘a special relationship with the United
States’ as the ‘dominant force in world affairs, both economically and as
a future military superpower’, with the aim of positioning Germany as
a key ally of Washington in a transatlantic partnership.25 But after the
Dawes and Young Plans, hopeful steps in the right direction, Stresemann
died and Wall Street crashed. The result was ‘the collapse of American
hegemony in Europe’, leaving the continent ‘orphaned as it had not been
since World War I’, and Germany at the mercy of Hitler’s demonic ambitions. Happily, with the defeat of the Third Reich, Adenauer could realize
Stresemann’s vision, at last sheltering a German parliamentary democracy in the safe harbour of America, orphanage over.26
iii. wilsonian peace?
Published eight years later, The Deluge supplies the prequel to Wages. Its
theme is the emergence out of the Great War of 1914–18 of a new world
order, led by America, which outlasted the demise of its architect and gave
way only under the strain of the Great Depression. The narrative opens
with the military deadlock in Europe in 1916, and Wilson’s decision to
enter the War in support of the Entente in the spring of 1917, making of
the struggle ‘something far more morally and politically charged’ than a
mere great-power conflict—‘a crusading victory’, an American president
in the lead, ‘fought and won to uphold the rule of international law and
to put down autocracy and militarism’. With the defeat of Germany and
the dissolution of Austro-Hungary, the us—already a super-state towering above all others in economic might—became the master power of the
succeeding peace. Its post-war hegemony, however, would be no mere
replacement of what had once been the Pax Britannica. It was a paradigm
shift in international relations, a deliberate attempt to construct a global
25 Wages of Destruction, pp. 5, 25, 33. 26 Wages of Destruction, pp. 657–8.
60 nlr 119
economic and political order, as conceived by Wilson—a system of a new
kind: ‘by common agreement, the new order had three major facets—
moral authority backed by military power and economic supremacy’.27
True, though the agreement was common, it was not quite universal. By
the time Wilson had taken America into the War, the February Revolution
had broken out in Russia. ‘First and foremost a patriotic event’, this spelt
no defection from the ranks of the Entente, whose leaders were justifiably
confident that ‘Russia’s democratic revolution would re-energize the war
effort, not end it’. ‘Kerensky, Tsereteli and their colleagues set themselves
frantically to rebuilding the army as a fighting force’, and in the early
summer of 1917 troops ‘under the dynamic command of the young war
hero, Lavr Kornilov’ were making headway against the Habsburg forces
in front of them.28 But to the north, Bolshevik subversion led to mutiny,
and the Russian front collapsed. As peasant soldiers ‘abandoned the
cause en masse’, and radicalized units around Petrograd marched on the
city, the Provisional Government—‘despite its profound commitment to
democratic freedom’—‘had no option but to order the mass arrest of the
Bolshevik leadership’, but made the fatal mistake of failing ‘to decapitate
it’ as the circumstances required, a taboo on the death penalty inhibiting the necessary executions. Three months later, Red Guards stormed
the Winter Palace and nascent Russian democracy was extinguished. In
power, the Bolshevik dictatorship repudiated Russia’s foreign debts—an
action amounting to a rejection of ‘the very foundations of international
law’, severing any possibility of an understanding with the Entente—and,
signing the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk with the Central Powers, exited the
War. The Allied interventions in Russia which followed this capitulation
were not motivated by any counter-revolutionary intent, but simply by the
aim of ousting a regime that had become, objectively speaking, a ward of
German militarism. Lenin was only saved from the political bankruptcy
of his collusion with Berlin by the collapse of the Second Reich in the
autumn, which took the wind out of the need for these.29
The self-exclusion of Russia from the new world order in the making in
1919 did not materially affect its birth at Versailles. Treatment of Wilson
and Lenin as if they were equivalent figures, ranged against each other, is
a retrospective illusion, so dramatic was the implosion of Russian power
27 The Deluge: The Great War and the Remaking of Global Order, London 2014, pp.
8, 14–5.
28 Deluge, pp. 70, 81–2. 29 Deluge, pp. 82–3, 129, 156–7, 170.
anderson: History 61
at the end of the war, and so pitifully weak the emergent Bolshevik regime.
The year 1919, Tooze observes, had nothing in common with 1945, when
the United States and the Soviet Union squared off against each other
in a bi-polar international system. Rather, it ‘resembled the unipolar
moment of 1989’, when ‘the idea of reordering the world around a single
power bloc and a common set of liberal, “Western” values seemed like a
radical historical departure’, but in fact it was a reprise of the dramatic
outcome of World War One.30 Much arguing and bargaining marked the
negotiations at Versailles, but the victors stuck together in a moderate
settlement, the fruit of compromise, that allowed for the eventual reintegration of Germany into the comity of leading powers under the aegis
of Wilson’s brain-child, a League of Nations whose covenant was signed
by all in advance of negotiations over the Treaty itself.
Tragically, however, on his return to the us, Wilson was unable to secure
ratification of American membership of the League from the Senate, a
‘heartbreaking fiasco’ that was certainly in part due to his personal rigidity, and by then physical frailty.31 But the deeper roots of this disaster lay
in the paradox that America, the advance guard of economic and cultural
modernity in the world at large, had yet to modernize its own political
order at home. Despite the Progressivist vision of leaders like the first
Roosevelt and Wilson, the us state remained crabbed and confined within
its eighteenth-century constitutional matrix. The archaic prerogatives of
the Senate, requiring a two-thirds vote for approval of any international
treaty, without equivalent anywhere else in the world, were one expression of this lag, the most direct obstruction to Wilson’s hopes. The fiscal
underdevelopment of the Federal state, still essentially dependent on
customs-and-excise revenues, was another. The War had been financed
essentially by monetary loosening, bank credits that doubled prices. In
lieu of an income tax, this was in effect an inflation tax, which when
abruptly reversed by the Treasury in 1920 plunged the country into deflation and mass unemployment, putting a Republican back into the White
House with the largest electoral majority of the century.
For Tooze, underlying the rhetoric of Wilson and his domestic opponents alike, and culprit for the failure of the us to rise to the challenges
of the hour, was the quite recent ideology of American exceptionalism,
essentially a higher form of nationalism at odds with the internationalist
requirements of global leadership. Yet he detects a kernel of Burkean
30 Deluge, p. 10. 31 Deluge, pp. 18, 336, 338.
62 nlr 119
wisdom in this outlook, a sense of the need to preserve the continuity of the country’s history after the trauma of the Civil War. Nor did it
in practice mean any decisive retreat from the tasks of building a new
world order. Contrary to legend, Harding’s Administration presided over
a demonstration of it more successful than Versailles: the Washington
Conference of 1921–22, which saw Wilson’s defeated Republican rival
of 1916, Charles Evans Hughes, pull off a triumph of internationalist
diplomacy in persuading Britain and Japan to cede naval ascent gracefully to the United States, in the manner of Gorbachev yielding to Bush
seventy years later. Thereafter, successive presidents and their envoys,
public or private, laboured to stabilize Europe in the wake of the tensions
left by the reparations clauses of Versailles, with constructive proposals
for easing financial difficulties in Germany like the Dawes and Young
Plans, and eventually even a moratorium offered by Hoover on the war
debts of France and Britain to the us itself. Nor were these efforts at
pacification of international relations without admirable European, and
for that matter Asian, counterparts. In England Austen Chamberlain,
in France Aristide Briand, in Germany Gustav Stresemann—every one
a Nobelist—were all convinced Atlanticists, looking to the us as their
indispensable partner in the pursuit of peace; so too a resolute Ramsay
MacDonald and the courageous Taisho reformers in Japan.
Why then was the progressive liberal project of these forward-looking
statesmen in the end derailed? Its flaw lay in the limitation of the American
hegemony that it required and embodied. For common to Wilson and
his successors was a refusal, not of enlightened engagement with the
affairs of the rest of the world, but of the ultimate responsibility of leading
an international coalition of powers to preserve free trade and collective
security. Instead, their basic impulse was ‘to use America’s position of
privileged detachment, and the dependence on it of the other major powers, to frame a transformation of world affairs’, the ‘better to uphold their
ideal of America’s destiny’—a radical vision abroad, tied to a conservative
attachment at home.32 For a decade, the combination yielded impressive
achievements. But when the tragic test of the Great Depression came, it
was not enough. International cooperation collapsed, and revolt against
the once-hopeful moderation of the twenties erupted in the fanaticisms
of the thirties, anticipated in their different ways by Hitler and Trotsky.
But the very extremity of such reactions was evidence of the strength of
the emergent order they sought to overthrow.
32 Deluge, p. 516.
anderson: History 63
The spectacular escalation of violence unleashed in the 1930s and 1940s
was a testament to the kind of force that the insurgents believed themselves to be up against. It was precisely the looming potential, the future
dominance of American capitalist democracy, that was the common factor
impelling Hitler, Stalin, the Italian fascists and their Japanese counterparts
to such radical action.33
Yet the visions of statesmen like Briand were not in vain. For the ‘restless
search for a new way of securing order and peace was the expression not
of a deluded idealism, but of a higher form of realism’, which understood
that only international coalition and cooperation could secure peace and
prosperity on earth. ‘These were the calculations of a new type of liberalism, a Realpolitik of progress’.34 That came to fruition under the second
Roosevelt. It is still much needed. Striking without hesitation a contemporary note, Tooze asked: ‘Why does “the West” not play its winning
hands better? Where is the capacity for management and leadership?
Given the rise of China, these questions have an obvious force’.35
A Chatham House version
Clearer answers to the two questions raised by Durand—what method is
implied in Tooze’s work, and what politics inform it?—start to come into
view once The Deluge and Wages of Destruction are read together as instalments of a common project. In each, a ‘situational and tactical’ approach
to the subject in hand determines entry to it in medias res, dispensing
with a structural explanation of its origins: in Wages, the Depression, in
Deluge, the First World War. In both, the overarching theme is the dynamism of American power as skeleton key to the twentieth century. In
both, the political standpoint is, as self-described, that of a left-liberalism.
Each of the terms around the hyphen is liable, however, to a range of
meanings, and the compound has often, perhaps typically, proved unstable, one or other of its elements acquiring greater valence. Wages, as a
study of the Nazi economy, offers less scope for considering the balance
between them. Viewed in historical context, its central claim that Hitler’s
real antagonist, the enemy that mattered, was America, not Russia, of
course fitted well with axiomatic assumptions of the Cold War. If the
Nazi war machine was ultimately directed against the United States, the
33 ‘Once the extremists were given their chance, it was precisely the sense that
they faced mighty opponents that animated the violence and lethal energy of their
assault on the post-war order’: Deluge, pp. 7, 18. 34 Deluge, pp. 517–18. 35 Deluge, p. 19.
64 nlr 119
binary struggle between democracy and totalitarianism was preserved—
the Soviet Union, rather than being the principal target of Hitler’s regime
and the overwhelming agent of its downfall, as in historical fact it was,
becoming the even greater totalitarian danger further east, to be dealt
with in due course. But gratifying though such a deduction might be to
American and West German audiences, Tooze never suggests it, and the
salience of the Red Army in the narrative of Wages discounts it.36
The Deluge, composed after Tooze’s move from Cambridge to Yale, is
politically more outspoken, a full-throated endorsement of the victors’
self-understanding of the First World War and the abiding vision that,
for all their differences, inspired their efforts to build a progressive peace
after it. Historiographically it can be described, with apologies to Elie
Kedourie, as a distinctive exercise in the Chatham House version of the
36 See by contrast Brendan Simms, Hitler: Only the World Was Enough, London
2019, a mammoth inflation of the claim that a battle with ‘Anglo-America’—above
all the United States—was Hitler’s over-riding obsession. Simms, an Irish neoconservative, founder of the Henry Jackson Society, depicts a Führer consumed
less by anti-Semitism or anti-Communism than by a rabid anti-capitalism. His
hostility to Anglo-Saxon capitalism was ‘crucially, anterior’ to his anti-Semitism,
and ‘dwarfed his fear of Communism’—in his eyes simply an inferior ‘instrument of international capitalism’. ‘Hitler’s principal preoccupation throughout his
career was Anglo-America and global capitalism, rather than the Soviet Union or
Bolshevism’: (pp. 22, 87–8, 53, xviii). Geo-politically, it was ‘the immense American
industrial potential’, which had been ‘a staple of his thinking in the 1920s, and had
dominated his strategy since the late 1930s’, that motivated his invasion of Russia
in 1941. Operation Barbarossa was ‘ultimately directed against the Western Allies’,
and ‘the push on Stalingrad, like the entire war, was primarily driven by the contest
against Anglo-America’: (pp. 457, 408, 471). Mining his sources single-mindedly in
pursuit of this case, Simms not only ignores evidence making a mockery of it—he
can cite Hitler’s Four Year Plan without letting drop it ever mentions the ussr
(pp. 260–1)—but himself contradicts it with admissions that demolish it. Far from
planning any world-historical show-down with America, as promised by the book’s
subtitle (‘Only the World’), in 1933 ‘Hitler envisaged a future peaceful relationship
between the new Reich and the United States, based on a common set of so-called
racial values’; in 1938 ‘would have greatly preferred to remain at peace’ with the
British Empire and United States; in 1941 ‘sought not world domination, but world
power status’ and ‘had no strategy for defeating the United States, because there
obviously wasn’t one’: (pp. 164, 328–9, 450). The upshot is a construction not much
less incoherent than Hitler’s own confusions of the time. But the ideological purpose of a consecration a contrario is transparent enough: if what Hitler really hated
above all else was global capitalism and its stronghold in America, how could these
be other than quintessentially good? That he never laid a significant finger on capitalism within the Third Reich hardly matters.
anderson: History 65
period. By starting his narrative in 1916, Tooze avoids any reckoning
with the question of what determined the outbreak of hostilities in 1914,
and so of the nature of the War itself, simply asserting without further
ado that American entry, provoked by German aggression, converted it
into a battle for democracy and international law.
Imperialism, in this accounting, was a very recent phenomenon, global
competition just a few decades old—the Seven Years’ War and conquest
of India might never have happened—and once the War had come to
a successful end, the world was confronted with the problem of how it
was to be peacefully ordered ‘after imperialism’.37 The narrative is constructed, in other words, by taking for granted the Entente apologetics in
contemporary usage, a literature now so abundant that Tooze may have
felt it unnecessary to spell out its truths once again, although they have
little or nothing to do with a serious understanding of the conflict. ‘The
structural reality’, as Alexander Zevin has written in these pages, ‘is that
the First World War took place over empires, for empires and between
empires’.38 For the extent of this bed-rock fact it is enough to consult the
survey of the combatants in a recent comprehensive account, Empires
at War, which covers all of them, down to the Portuguese wing of the
East African theatre of hostilities, where the British imperial death-toll
exceeded the total of American dead in Europe.39 It was the uneven distribution of planetary spoils that precipitated the Great War: in a system
where every state took for granted the connexion between power and
possessions, Germany, the largest and most rapidly expanding industrial
economy, surrounded by the three largest territorial powers of the continent, had no commensurate share of the plunder, while Britain had such
a hugely disproportionate empire, compared with any other, that no stable international equilibrium was possible, as Lenin saw at the time and
as more critical historians have pointed out since.40
The sponge that palaeo-Entente justifications pass over the First
World War, taken as read by Tooze, permits an enormity to follow.
37 Deluge, p. 20.
38 Alexander Zevin, ‘The Snuffer of Lamps’, nlr 94, July–August 2015, p. 139. 39 See Robert Gerwarth and Erez Manela, eds, Empires at War 1911–1923, Oxford
2014, p. 143. To prevail in the struggle, Britain mobilized some two and a half million, France half a million troops, from their overseas empires.
40 See inter alia David Calleo, The German Problem Reconsidered, Cambridge 1978,
pp. 4–5, 24–5, 83–4, 158–9.
66 nlr 119
The inter-imperialist slaughter that cost some 10 million lives on the
battlefield, and 40 million casualties of one kind or another, is exonerated from any responsibility for the violence that followed it, attributed
instead to an extremist rebellion against the pacific strength of the postwar settlement—Hitler and Trotsky twinned for the purpose. No word
even refers to the scale of the killing unleashed by the liberal civilization
of the Belle Époque, let alone to its socio-psychological consequences
in hardening the world to more of the same, with scarcely a break after
1918. In treating of the Russian Revolution, Tooze even regrets there was
not more of it during the War: had only a few more tens of thousands of
peasant soldiers been able to hold on under commanders like Kornilov,
without Bolshevik sedition sapping their patriotism, the solidarity of the
Entente would have been saved, and the Central Powers held at bay in
the East, instead of acquiring Lenin, foolishly spared the firing-squad by
the Provisional Government, as their pawn. In Ireland, where ‘extreme
Irish nationalists launched a suicidal assault on British power’ in 1916,
damaging the responsible backing of Redmond and his party for the war
effort, and the guerrilla war for independence of 1919–21 took ‘a terrible
toll’, compounded by a civil war provoked by Sinn Fein’s ‘apocalyptic
radicalism’, the upshot of all this mayhem ‘stored up violence for the
rest of the century’.41 Some 1,400 lives were lost in the war for independence; perhaps 2,000 in the civil war. Whereas 30,000 Irishmen died in
the trenches of France, the Balkans and the Middle East. Non-violently?
Missing in Deluge is any sense of Henry James’s reaction to the war:
The intense unthinkability of anything so blank and infamous in an age we
have been living in and taking for our own as if it were a high refinement of
civilization—in spite of all conscious incongruities; finding it after all carrying this abomination in its blood, finding this to have been what it meant
all the while, is like suddenly having to recognize in one’s family circle or
group of best friends a band of murderers, swindlers and villains—it’s just
such a similar shock.42
If the War ended as a victory for democracy and the rule of law, what
of the peace that followed it? Did it embody these? Tooze finds no
41 Deluge, pp. 180, 376–7. 42 Letter to Claude Phillips, first Keeper of the Wallace Collection, three days before
the outbreak of the War. Though soon an adoptive English patriot, James confessed
a ‘terrible sense that the people of this country’ might with ‘brutal justice’ now have
to pay for their ‘grossness and folly and blatancy’, exhibited from ‘so far back’: Percy
Lubbock, ed., The Letters of Henry James, London 1920, vol. ii, pp. 389–90.
anderson: History 67
special fault with the Treaty of Versailles, giving credit to Wilson, Lloyd
George and Clemenceau—with particular sympathy for the last—for
their understandably differing concerns and willingness to compromise between them to impose a satisfactory common settlement on
the country they had defeated. Since Germany was the aggressor, the
war-guilt clause of the Treaty, the formal ground for extracting openended reparations from it, could be taken as given. What mattered was
that Germans, however much they detested it, should—in their own
interests—take their medicine. Keynes’s philippic against the Treaty,
rhetorical tour de force though it may have been, was an irresponsible
piece of mischief-making, not only encouraging reckless German resistance to paying up, but poisoning relations between London and Paris,
and handing a propaganda gift to Lenin and Trotsky into the bargain.
‘No single individual did more to undermine the political legitimacy of
the Versailles peace’; and no danger of the time exercises Tooze more
than the possibility that the new-born German Republic would have
the nerve to reject the Allied ultimatum that it must sign the Treaty on
the dotted line.
Thankfully, the madness of ultras like Max Weber, who called for guerrilla resistance to it, and even such a moderate social democrat as then
premier Philipp Scheidemann—who advocated a stance all too reminiscent of Trotsky’s ‘Neither Peace Nor War’ at Brest-Litovsk—was at the last
minute overcome, and the Treaty accepted by Germany. There was still
much recidivism in Weimar, whose Rapallo Pact with the pariah Soviet
state reached by Rathenau three years later—‘a self-indulgent nationalist
fantasy’—was not in keeping with the spirit of Versailles; and another
high-risk crisis the next year, when France occupied the Rhineland to
ensure its portion of reparations was coughed up. But Stresemann,
unlike Rathenau, had understood all along that Germany must look to
America to improve its situation, and in 1924 the Dawes Plan, supplying
funds from Wall Street to ease reparation payments, rescued German
democracy by taking the sting from Versailles.
Such judgements follow naturally from the premise that the Great War
saw a triumph of relative good over evil. Retribution was required, and
to rejoin the ranks of respectability the offender must for its own good
accept the measure of punishment, by no means excessive, meted out to
it. That no stable peace could be built on such a self-serving historical fiction, rejected as dishonest and unjust by the virtual entirety of the nation
68 nlr 119
forced to accept it, is a consideration that cannot occur within this mental
framework. So too the thought that Germany might have avoided the rise
of Hitler had it taken the course advocated by Weber or Scheidemann,
refused the diktat of the Allies and let them see what benefit occupation
of the country would bring them, in face of all the inevitable resistance,
and how long their own populations would have put up with it.43 In the
Germany of 1919, such resistance would have united most of the politically active country. By their capitulation, the centrist politicians who
feature as the heroes of the hour in Tooze ensured that the banner of a
rejection which they themselves knew was perfectly justified, and was
bound in due course to prevail, would pass to the radical Right alone.
The foundations of the edifice erected at Versailles were rotten from the
start, foreordained to collapse.
Stripling hegemon?
The fate of Germany—so hopeful as long as Stresemann was at the
helm—forms the central thread of Tooze’s narrative of the new world
order that emerged after 1918. But the panoramic scope is wide, a notable strength of the book, encompassing China, Japan, India, Egypt,
South Africa, even a slide inserted from Patagonia. What balance-sheet
of American hegemony, as postulated by Tooze, emerges from it? If
the conceptual setting of Deluge situates it at a point along the political spectrum where liberalism ceases to have any particular implication
with the left—its account of the Russian Revolution is of pure-bred Cold
War stock44—the subsequent story it tells is much more ambiguous.
Tooze does not venture full-scale portraits of any of his protagonists,
but much of what he reports of Wilson is plainly incompatible with
the role initially assigned him of prophet and principal architect of a
world made safe for peace and democracy. ‘Thrilled’ by America’s victorious war with Spain and seizure of her Caribbean and Pacific colonies,
43 Tooze dismisses this prospect, which the French High Command was ready
to jump at, contending that the Allies would instead simply have lopped off big
chunks of Germany and waited for the starving residue to come to its senses, in
a kind of Morgenthau Plan ante diem, no less fanciful or more likely to have been
adopted than the Treasury Secretary’s ruminations in 1944: Deluge, p. 315. 44 Coinciding with his move to Yale, Tooze could report that he now enjoyed ‘entrée
to a new world of American policy debate’ at confabulations with the National
Intelligence Council: Deluge, p. xxiii.
anderson: History 69
‘more aggressive than any of his predecessors’ in dispatching troops to
the Caribbean and Mexico, devoted to the preservation of—in his own
words—‘white supremacy on this planet’, Wilson made no mention of
self-determination in his Fourteen Points, vetoed discussion of Ireland
at Versailles, and had no truck with Japan’s call for a commitment to
racial equality in the Covenant of the League, enthroning instead the
Monroe Doctrine as one of its founding principles.45
In 1919, having cut off financial aid to Italy to oblige it to scrap the treaty
with Britain and France which awarded its entry into the War on their
side with gains in Tyrol and the Adriatic, within days Wilson was telling
China it must abide by the treaty extorted from it according Japan gains
in Shandong and Manchuria, because ‘the sacredness of treaties’ was
one of the principles for which the War had been fought.46 At home, the
world champion of democracy presided over the greatest single wave of
political repression in modern American history, replete with a pogrom
against immigrants of the wrong ethnic background. All this can be
found in Deluge. But it is never aggregated, and the mass arrests of 1919
are tacitly deflected to Wilson’s Attorney-General.
Beyond the person, the larger question is whether Tooze’s picture of
global American dominance already in the inter-war period—over
allies, effectual up to the Depression; in the imaginary of opponents,
throughout—is accurate. Certainly, the signal merit of Deluge is its demonstration of the continuing leverage enjoyed by the us over the leading
European states by the loop between the war debts to it of Britain, France
and Italy, and the reparations owed France and Britain by Germany, leaving Washington in a position to adjust the two as suited its interests. The
gist of Tooze’s exposition of this financial chokehold is that it was generally, though not invariably, put to benign purpose, seeking to temper the
sharp edge of the arrangements at Versailles and restore Germany to
what today would be called ‘the international community’. Underplayed,
however, are two features of the transatlantic relationship: the implacability of the avarice of the American state—entitled, one might argue, to
the later sobriquet of vulture capitalism—in extracting compensation for
45 Deluge, pp. 44, 60, 120, 193, 326, 269.
46 To credit Wilson with a gift for hypocrisy in cases like these is unnecessary: vanity
and self-deception sufficed.
70 nlr 119
its support of the Entente regardless of the relative burdens of the War;
and the unsleeping fear of revolution that led the us to back political
reaction wherever required to crush any threat of it, nurturing excellent
relations with Mussolini from the start.47
To the financial arsenal of us power, the Washington Conference
added naval gains. But how far did these two assets—money and warships—permit an American hegemony, the term persistently used by
Tooze to describe the us role in the world from 1919 to 1932? This
was a period when the size of the American army, under 200,000,
was smaller than that of Portugal; when the us Foreign Service, dating
only from 1924, was still pupal;48 when it had no embassy in Moscow;
when its presence in China could not compare with that of Britain,
effectively in charge of the country’s fiscal system; when in Europe it
was a bystander to the sequel to Versailles at Locarno. What was the
initiative for which it was best known? The Kellog–Briand ‘Peace Pact’
of 1928, a wish-list of feel-good futility, leaving scarcely a trace in the
history of the thirties.
All this followed from the reality to which Tooze himself draws attention in describing the fiasco of Wilson’s project when he got back
to America in 1919: the stunted, only half-modern character of the
Federal state machine itself. But after arguing and illustrating that
47 While it set the tone for hyperbolic narratives of ‘us pre-eminence’ permeating
interbellum Europe with ‘an impressive display of economic, political and moral
power’ (even, many contemporaries would have been surprised to learn, ‘from
Switzerland to the Soviet Union, Europeans acknowledged America’s cultural leadership’), Frank Costigliola’s study Awkward Dominion (1984), the first of several
precursors to Deluge, was less euphoric in outlook. Conceding that us determination to ‘preserve the economic benefits of the international gold standard, the war
debt settlements, the foreign investments, and the trade surplus’ for itself ‘assigned
most of the adjustment burdens to Europe’, Costigliola also noted that in the hope
of ‘containing revolutionary upheaval’, Washington consistently ‘favoured reactionaries’ where necessary, State Department analysts optimistically comparing
the Nazis in 1933 to ‘the Italian Fascists with whom the United States had worked
so closely’: Awkward Dominion: American Political, Economic and Cultural Relations
with Europe, 1919–1933, Ithaca, ny 1984, pp. 263, 217, 178, 164, 139, 260.
48 Martin Weil opens his study of the narrow composition of the service: ‘This is the
story of a small group of Christian gentlemen who founded the profession of diplomacy on a permanent basis in America’: A Pretty Good Club: The Founding Fathers
of the us Foreign Service, New York 1978, p. 9.
anderson: History 71
with force, he fails to remember it when otherwise writing throughout
of American hegemony—even of European orphanage once it faded,
as if kindly parental guidance by Washington had alone kept the Old
World safe till the slump. The claim is jumping the gun. The world of
1919 was in no sense unipolar. us hegemony would, of course, come
in due course. But backdating it to the time of Harding and Coolidge
is an anachronism, answering to an authorial hobby-horse rather than
the historical record.
iv. financial crisis
With Crashed, Tooze’s problematic finally enters into its own. Durand
has provided so full an account of the very great achievement of the book
that there is little need to recapitulate it here. It is enough to recall its
main case. The financial crisis that broke out in 2008 was the product
of a sudden paralysis of the interlocking matrix of corporate balancesheets, as the interbank lending on which it depended seized up in the
us and eu in the wake of the Lehman default; its global fall-out was a
dramatic demonstration that the central axis of world finance was not,
as often imagined, American-Asian, but American-European. As the
danger of a second Great Depression loomed, it was the United States
alone that averted it, with emergency measures taken by the Fed and the
Treasury in a set of bold innovations—central bank swaps, quantitative
easing, macroprudential regulation—stabilizing the system. European
response, by contrast, was not only laggard but counterproductive, until
Draghi repositioned the ecb four years later. Out of the crisis, us hegemony was reasserted, and the dollar emerged more dominant than ever in
the global financial system. But a pragmatic managerialism that bailed
out bankers and stock-holders left society as unequal and even more
divided than before, detonating populist revolts that have destabilized
both America and Europe in a mutation of the crisis that has yet to end.
In spatial sweep, narrative brio and striking detail, no other work on the
crash comes near Tooze’s account of it.
Where does his conclusion of the trilogy leave Durand’s two queries,
of politics and method? In keeping with its predecessors, Crashed takes
the hypertrophy of finance that is the heuristic object of Durand’s study
as a situational given, without structural explanation. In that sense, it
72 nlr 119
too starts in medias res. The conditions that generated the crisis of 2008
are reduced to the demise of Bretton Woods—attributed to pressure
from ‘the struggle for income shares in an increasingly affluent society’ and ‘the liberalization of offshore dollar trading in London’, as if
the war in Vietnam was a cost irrelevant to Nixon’s decision to cut the
painter to gold—and the ensuing need for neoliberal discipline to halt
inflation: three trifling sentences in a work of six hundred pages. It is
as if the decade-by-decade decline in growth of the real economy, across
advanced capitalism—the long down-turn that arrived in the seventies—
had occurred on another planet.
If that structural framework, determining a system-wide displacement of productive capital into bloated global finance, is missing, the
American response to the crisis suffers in this telling from a similar
blankness of background, if more paradoxically. For at the outset, after
stating that the us alone proved able to master the challenge posed
by the crisis, Tooze writes: ‘that capacity is an effect of structure—the
United States is the only state that can generate dollars’, then immediately adding ‘but it is also a matter of action, of policy choices—positive
in the American case, disastrously negative in the European case’.
The work that follows, however, brackets the structural capacity completely—it is not mentioned once thereafter—delivering instead an
encomium of the policy choices taken by the Fed and the Treasury
under Bernanke and Geithner as saving the world from disaster, albeit
at the cost of some unhappy side-effects. What this edifying story omits
is the simple, central fact of the unique leeway the us enjoyed in the
prerogatives of the dollar, as the world’s premier reserve currency and
store of value.
A historical comparison is enough to show why the Obama Administration could avert a depression as the Hoover Administration could not.
When the Kreditanstalt collapsed in Austria in 1931—the real trigger,
rather than the Wall Street crash of 1929, for the onset of the slump—
Hoover, less rigid than his legend, passed the most expansionary budget
of the decade, with a deficit of over half Federal expenditure. So strong,
however, was domestic and foreign disapproval of such license that he
back-tracked with tax increases the following year. For so long as the us
was tethered to the gold standard, it could not afford significant fiscal
or monetary loosening without risking a run on the dollar, which its
anderson: History 73
authorities were not prepared to incur.49 Eight decades later, by contrast,
the us could run a huge trade deficit and print money as it wished without fearing retribution from foreign bond-holders or investors, typically
all the keener on T-bills and Wall Street stocks the more anxious economic conditions at large became. So the Obama Administration could
run up the biggest peacetime fiscal deficit in us history—it jumped from
2.7 per cent of gdp in 2007 to 13 per cent in 2009—with impunity. No
Eurozone country could do anything like this. There, the Stability and
Growth Pact of 1997–99 in principle banned any deficit above 3 per
cent, a rule cemented by the Fiscal Compact of 2013, even written into
the constitutions of Italy and Spain. This enormous structural difference disappears in Crashed, where the institutional framework of the
Treaty of Maastricht and the monetary union it created do not rate so
much as an entry in the index. The divergent responses to the crisis
of America and Europe were not just a question of policy options: they
were the product of two radically contrasted—one enabling, the other
inhibiting—structures.
The missing piece
Those who enjoyed the imperial latitude of the dollar have boasted
not just of the success of the actions they took, but of their valour in
taking them. The ghost-assisted memoirs of Bernanke and Geithner,
entitled respectively The Courage to Act and Stress Test, present their time
in office as a nerve-racking ordeal, bravely confronted and boldly surmounted, saving the nation with measures of unprecedented novelty
as it teetered on the edge of an abyss. Crashed criticizes the implication
that they themselves had no responsibility for the dangers they battled
49 Hoover ‘shared with many contemporary economists the view that fiscal and
monetary policies must be directed to support gold rather than directly to promote
domestic economic expansion or bank stability’: Nicholas Crafts and Peter Fearon,
‘Lessons from the 1930s Great Depression’, Oxford Review of Economic Policy,
vol. 26, no. 3, 2010, pp. 285–317, which also disposes of the opposite legend that
the New Deal was based in large measure on fiscal stimulus. For the classic demonstration that failure to loosen monetary policy—for Friedman and Schwartz, the
principal cause of the Depression—was essentially determined by a rational fear
under the gold standard of an exchange-rate crisis and devaluation of the dollar,
see Barry Eichengreen, Golden Fetters: The Gold Standard and the Great Depression,
1919–1939, New York 1992, pp. 295 ff.
74 nlr 119
with, and that the upshot of their efforts was of undivided benefit to
all. But it doesn’t seriously question the self-serving pathos of power
heroically exercised.50
That is in part because there is a missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle of
global finance that Tooze otherwise puts together with such skill. Japan,
the third largest economy in the world, is scarcely to be found in Crashed.
That is certainly not due to any lack of competence or interest on Tooze’s
part; Deluge pays due attention to the country and its economy in the
inter-war period. Rather, its omission is a requirement of the narrative,
on which its inclusion would have cast a different light. For virtually
all of the daring innovations with which Tooze credits the us authorities for stopping the crisis of 2008—and more—had been pioneered
by their Japanese counterparts, most of them well beforehand, starting
in the nineties, and in wider and ampler measure, without resort to
chest-thumping. Not only qe—central bank purchase of bonds to inject
cash into the financial system—and forward guidance, but pko—‘pricekeeping operations’ (ironically so-named after the un euphemism) to
support stock values, and qqe—central bank purchase of corporate
bonds and equity. Not only zirp—zero interest rate policy—but the first
use of negative interest rates, and of yield-curve control. All this on a
scale making American use of heterodox tools look modest. The excess
reserves created by the Bank of Japan’s use of qe have been larger than
50 ‘The terror of those days . . . the overwhelming burden of responsibility combined with the paralysing fear of catastrophic failure . . . the loneliness and the
numbness’—Geithner’s ghost-writer, on loan from Time, in top gear: Stress Test,
p. 200. Tooze: ‘There is no reason to doubt the sincerity of these professions. It was
a fearful situation’: Crashed, p. 164. Since then, in a lecture for the London Review
of Books this year, he has gone further, recounting an interview—‘the conversation
went extremely well’—with the former Treasury Secretary, now banker for Warburg
Pincus, in which he describes the ‘formidable charisma and energy that Geithner
exudes to an extraordinary extent—he is a truly Napoleonic figure’, and repeats
a phrase of Geithner’s that above all impressed him: ‘Since the nineties, we’ve
been defying gravity’. Tooze continues: ‘That really shocked me’. Why? Because
‘for somebody of my disposition, America isn’t subject to gravity; America is gravity: America is the gravitational force that organizes global power in the twentieth
century.’ There was no occasion to be surprised. The same trope was already on
display in Stress Test: p. 105. At work is a not-so-subliminal image of the us from the
popcorn culture of the speaker, to be read in the opposite register: America cruising
aloft, Superman in his cape.
anderson: History 75
those created by the Fed, in an economy a quarter the size of the us.
51 As
a percentage of gdp, the boj’s balance-sheet is nearly four times bigger
than the Fed’s.
This enormous injection of liquidity into the economy was possible not
only because, unlike the United States, Japan has posted a trade surplus
for most of the past forty years, but also because 95 per cent of its public
debt, denominated in its own currency, is held by domestic institutions
and households, making it virtually as proof against loss of foreign confidence as the supremacy of the dollar renders America’s, if not more
so, even though the debt is double in size. So too, the most important
innovation of all in ‘the completely new range of policy tools’, as Durand
summarizes Tooze, ‘macro-prudential supervision’ of the financial system: in 1998–99 the Japanese Ministry of Finance’s resolution of eleven
‘city banks’ into just three ‘mega-banks’ and a domestic-operations-only
fourth, not to speak of the Bank of Japan’s grip on a stock market where
it is owner of 75 per cent of the exchange-traded fund market and a top
ten share-holder in 40 per cent of Japanese companies,52 puts Geithner’s
squeamish tinkering with Citigroup and the rest, and its enfeebled issue
in Dodd–Frank, in the shade. More radical in all these ways than the
Treasury, so too was the Ministry of Finance in the more traditional
area of fiscal policy, unleashing ‘the largest single peace-time government expenditure in history’,53 amid successive stimulus packages in the
nineties totalling some $1.3 trillion—nearly twice the size of Obama’s
American Recovery and Reinvestment Act.54 In doing so, it could draw on
historical precedent. Pre-war, Japan led the world in recovering from the
Depression with its coordination of monetary expansion and full-throttle
51 Fed: $2.1 trillion; boj: $2.87 trillion [¥305 trillion}: see Richard Koo, The Other
Half of Macroeconomics and the Fate of Globalization, Chichester 2018, p. 131. 52 Financial Times, 27–28 July 2019. 53 See R. Taggart Murphy, Japan and the Shackles of the Past, New York 2014,
p. 190, whose analysis of the institutions and vicissitudes of the post-war Japanese
economy is in a class by itself. The bail-out package of October 1998 came to ¥72
trillion. (In absolute size, the prc package of 2009 was double that of Japan’s in
1998, though on a per capita basis five times lesser).
54 Sean Ross, ‘The Diminishing Effect of Japan’s Quantitative Easing’, Investopedia,
25 June 2019. Taking alarm at the potential cost of the ensuing deficits should interest rates rise, the mof would periodically lame expansion by increasing the sales
tax, each time to negative effect, as emphasized by Murphy.
76 nlr 119
fiscal stimulus—something never attempted by the New Deal—under
Finance Minister Takahashi Korekiyo.55
When the crisis of 2008 broke, manufacturing was hard hit: Japanese
exports plunged by half and the country suffered a fall in gdp, something it had never known since the mid-seventies, even when the property
bubble burst in 1989. But the financial system was little shaken by the
Lehman shock:56 tribute to the fact that Japanese banks, unlike European
ones, were not entangled in such a fatal nexus with their American counterparts. If the boj drew on dollar swaps from the Fed to lend to them, it
was never obliged to do so, since the foreign-exchange reserves in Tokyo
were over seven times larger than such loans, ‘so it could be said that
Japan did not need its swap line’57—and so has no place in Tooze’s narrative of the crash. Yet few stock images of the period are so familiar as the
awful fate of Japan, dutifully conjured up for White House consumption
by Geithner: years of persistent stagnation since 1989, compared with
buoyant American growth before 2008 and rebound since. Don’t they
make its recent history an object lesson in what to avoid? Certainly, the
Japanese variant has not escaped the common blights of advanced capitalism in this era—increased poverty, precarity, inequality; declining unions,
55 See inter alia Barry Eichengreen, Hall of Mirrors: The Great Depression, the Great
Recession and the Uses—and Misuses—of History, Oxford 2015, pp. 256–7: ‘This,
then, was an aggressively reflationary monetary policy made credible by fiscal
expansion. In other words, it was precisely the policy claimed, erroneously, to have
been followed in the United States under fdr. But in Japan, unlike the United
States, the fiscal expansion was real.’
56 See Mitsuhiko Nakano, Financial Crisis and Bank Management in Japan (1997
to 2016), London 2016, p. 94. The plight of the manufacturing sector, of course,
affected banks as creditors to firms that fell into difficulty, a conventional pressure
altogether distinct from a freeze-up of interbank lending.
57 William Allen, International Liquidity and the Financial Crisis, Cambridge 2013,
p. 136; peak use of swaps by the boj was $127.6 billion; foreign-exchange reserves
stood at $971.6 billion: p. 129. Why did the boj have recourse to swaps at all?
Formally speaking, Japan’s reserves—held in a Foreign Exchange Special Account—
are controlled by the Ministry of Finance. But though since 1998 the boj has been
technically independent of the mof, and in outlook the two are not always at one,
the mof is a ‘sovereign’ administration, as the boj—55 per cent state-owned—is
not, and can dispose of its reserves as it wishes; so this was scarcely an insurmountable difficulty. See Akio Mikuni and R. Taggart Murphy, Japan’s Policy Trap: Dollars,
Deflation and the Crisis of Japanese Finance, Washington, dc 2002, pp. 48–9, 115.
The Fed, however, was anxious that dollar holdings held by foreign Treasuries not
be cashed out, for fear of causing panic, and probably the Japanese authorities complied to appease it, the boj applying for swap lines in a spirit of solidarity—also
status as a member of the club of major central banks—rather than necessity.
anderson: History 77
arrested wages, rising profits. Yet its growth rate per capita has been not
that much worse than America’s, as even Bernanke concedes;58 unemployment has never risen as high, there is less polarization of opulence
and misery, the health, education, safety and life expectancy of its citizens
are all superior. Behind a veil of Rawlsian ignorance, who would prefer
existence in the Land of the Free?
Intensifying competition
More largely, if the underlying nature of the Great Recession, and what it
might portend for the future, is never really addressed by Tooze, it is in
part because here too the exclusion of Japan from his compass exacts a
significant cost. In the nearly 2,000 footnote references of Crashed, there
is none to the remarkable Taiwanese economist at Nomura Research,
Richard Koo, one of the most original minds in the field,59 whose
Balance-Sheet Recession of 2003 first explained the reasons why, after the
collapse of Japanese asset prices in the nineties, ultra-low interest rates
and massive injections of liquidity into the economy by the boj failed to
overcome stagnation: essentially because companies had switched from
the normal imperatives of profit maximization to debt minimization,
ceasing to borrow—and invest—no matter how cheap or abundant the
funds available to them.
But why then was there insufficient demand to induce firms to invest?
Fifteen years later, in The Other Half of Macroeconomics and the Fate of
Globalization, Koo went on to offer an answer. Historically, paths of
growth could be divided into three periods: an era before the Lewis
turning-point, when an abundant supply of surplus labour from the
countryside allowed industrialization based on cheap wages and
58 Ben Bernanke, ‘Some Reflections on Japanese Monetary Policy’, Brookings 2017,
p. 4. Bernanke has consistently preened himself on his foresight in criticizing
shortcomings of Japan’s management of its economic affairs, and failure to exhibit
‘Rooseveltian resolve’ of the sort he would embody: see his ‘Japanese Monetary
Policy: A Case of Self-Induced Paralysis?’, 1999, and subsequent purring (‘much
of what I wrote about Japan in the decade before the global financial crisis has held
up reasonably well’). In The Courage to Act, he informs the reader with Pooteresque
self-satisfaction that ‘the Bank of Japan adopted my suggestions fourteen years
later’; even better, the Tokyo press now expected incoming boj governor Kuroda to
‘adopt more “Bernanke-like tactics”’: pp. 41, 552.
59 Son of a leading opponent of the Guomindang take-over of the island who after
1947 went into exile in Japan, where Koo was born and grew up; later working for a
time under Volcker at the New York Fed, before moving back to Tokyo.
78 nlr 119
widening inequality to take off; a ‘golden age’ when the ltp was reached,
as urbanization became standard, labour markets tightened, employers
had to raise wages and productivity, and inequality contracted, powering
mass consumption and much faster growth; finally a ‘pursued’ stage,
post-ltp, when competitors enjoying pre-ltp wage-levels yet modern technologies invade the markets of those who are henceforward
chased, shrinking their opportunities for domestic investment, and driving firms to export capital to cheap-wage locations abroad, depressing
growth rates and increasing inequality at home. Workers, ‘exploited’ in
the first phase, ‘pacified’ in the second, are ‘on their own’ in the third,
deserted by employers and left on their uppers. The United States was
the first to suffer from pursuit, by Japan and Germany in the sixties and
seventies; Japan in turn was pursued by South Korea and Taiwan in the
eighties, and now China was the pursuer of all of these. Characteristic
of the contemporary period, Koo argues, is the quickening arrival and
shortening life of the golden ages enjoyed by newcomers, as more and
more countries join the global bandwagon.60
It can immediately be seen how the upshot of this comparative
historical schema converges with Durand’s hypothesis of the vent
of financialization in the ‘pursued’ economies; as too with Robert
Brenner’s explanation of the long downturn that set in across them from
the seventies onwards.61 Without taking note of Koo’s work, Lawrence
Summers has recently offered a scenario that fits it in striking fashion
from another angle. What if the standard recipes of the hour for avoiding
another crisis—monetary flexibility, fiscal expansion, macro-prudential
regulation—became inadequate? Then extreme measures might prove
necessary. ‘Think of what Japanese macroeconomic policy has had to
resort to in order to sustain demand and maintain 1 per cent annual
growth over the last twenty years: interest rates, both short and long,
close to zero, large fiscal deficits leading to a very large increase in public
debt, massive central bank purchases, and recourse to external demand
in the form of a current account surplus’—the last, crucially, ‘an option
that would not be available to other countries if the same weakness were
to affect all of them. Were Japan to be a template of things to come for
the rest of the advanced countries, what would be needed would indeed
be a macroeconomic policy revolution’. Was this a realistic prospect? ‘If
the United States or Europe were to go into recession in the next couple
of years, in all likelihood their situation would look much like that of
60 Koo, The Other Half of Macroeconomics and the Fate of Globalization, pp. 54–77. 61 Brenner, The Economics of Global Turbulence, London and New York 2006, passim.
anderson: History 79
Japan, with zero rates, large fiscal deficits, below-target inflation, and
inadequate growth. We may be one cyclical downturn away from the
need for a revolution’.62 Cutting the temerities of the Fed drily down to
size, this from the embodiment of neoliberal swagger at Clinton’s side
in the confident nineties.
Roots of the Eurocrisis
In the crisis, one monetary innovation which the Fed did claim as its
own were its swap lines supplying dollar liquidity to European banks, on
which Tooze lays legitimate emphasis as an unadvertised transgression
of its domestic mandate.63 Yet the very interlocking of American and
European financial systems that forms the central theme of his book
makes it clear that, once embarked on bailing out us banks and insurance companies, the Fed had no option but to follow suit with European
counterparts, so intertwined were the two—the latter indeed dominating the market in the riskiest layer of securitized mortgages in America.
There is no call to make heroism out of such necessity. On the other
side of the swaps, it seems fairly clear that European central banks,
rather than being startled and overwhelmed by the generosity of us
largesse, counted on it in advance. As one of Tooze’s anonymous central
bankers—perhaps Mervyn King—told him: ‘Given our long history of
relations with the Fed, we didn’t expect to have any difficulty getting hold
of dollars’. Why this should be described as ‘an astonishingly audacious
assumption’, rather than its comfortable opposite, is obscure.64
62 Without even so much as a need to mention the $17 trillion worth of negativeyielding debt—up from $8.3 trillion just nine months ago—currently weighing
on the global economy. Olivier Blanchard and Lawrence Summers, ‘Introduction:
Rethinking Stabilization Policy: Evolution or Revolution?’, in Evolution or Revolution?
Rethinking Macroeconomic Policy after the Great Recession, Cambridge, ma 2019, pp.
xxxviii–ix; a volume containing contributions from the crème de la crème of the central banking world and the areopagus of scholarly reflection: Bernanke, Draghi,
Haldane, Coeuré, Rubin, Gopinath, Rodrik, Rajan, Eichengreen, Reinhart, etc.
63 In their joint self-congratulation for popular consumption, Bernanke, Geithner
and Paulson allocate just four discreet sentences to swaps: Firefighting: The Financial
Crisis and its Lessons, New York 2019, pp. 42–3. In historical reality, as distinct from
current legend, central bank swaps were not a brain-wave of 2008. They date from
the sixties, when the Fed chairman of that period, William McChesney Martin,
instituted them to defend the dollar from speculative attack and halt the drain of
gold from us reserves during the Vietnam War. For particulars, see ‘The Fed’s Novel
Idea’, in Daniel McDowell, Brother, Can You Spare a Billion? The United States, the
imf and the International Lender of Last Resort, New York 2017, pp. 54–63.
64 Crashed, p. 90.
80 nlr 119
Nevertheless, Tooze’s mastery of thNevertheless, Tooze’s mastery of the North Atlantic nexus within the
landscape of global finance yields a striking picture of its European wing,
puncturing complacent self-images of the Old World. The notion that
‘social Europe’ differed in any significant way from the logic of financial
capitalism in America he exposes as an illusion. In reality, Europe was
far more heavily over-banked than the us. In size of assets, the three
biggest banks in the world in 2007 were European, while the liabilities
of the banking system in every member state of the Eurozone, measured against their gdp, were at least three times larger than those of
America.65 It was no accident that the first tremors of the earthquake
to come originated not in the us but in the eu, with the crisis of bnp
Paribas and collapse of Northern Rock in August–September 2007.
Entanglement with America to the west; predation in Europe itself to
the east, where Tooze shows the extent of the financial appropriation of
local assets in the former Communist countries by Dutch, Austrian and
Scandinavian capital. Nor, of course, has he anything but scorn for the
role of the ecb and the turn to austerity once the crisis broke.
There, in one of the many gripping set-pieces of the book, Tooze delivers
a damning verdict on the treatment of Greece by the Commission, the
ecb and the imf, and subsequently the European Council, which presided over its fate from 2010 onwards. The crushing of Syriza’s attempt
to negotiate less draconian terms for its society and economy is not only
vividly portrayed, but set in the wider context of the thwarting of governments of the left in these years by the external imposition of ‘political
and financial discipline’ on them. No one could doubt on which side
Tooze’s sympathies lie in this exercise of brute power. But just where
did this discipline come from, and how far did it extend? At this crux,
his account takes leave of absence. At its centre lies the nature of the
European Union, and the position of Germany within it. Evasive on the
first and inconsistent on the second, Crashed offers no coherent account
of the relationship between them, for it is too protective of each.
Decisive in this regard is the book’s abstraction of the decisions taken
by policy-makers from the structures in which they were working. What
was the matrix of the monetary union created at Maastricht? In Crashed,
Tooze vouchsafes barely a word on the Treaty, though elsewhere he has
spoken of its aims as creating a ‘European society by stealth’, and ‘binding
65 Crashed, p. 110.
anderson: History 81
Germany to Europe’.66 Ignored is the carefully crafted ordo-liberal design
of a single currency managed by a supranational bank, elevated clear of
any democratic electorate, insulating market forces from a popular will
inherently destructive of them—advocated by Hayek already before the
War, and realized by his Freiburg disciples after it; the intellectual world
of Quinn Slobodian’s Globalists. The sole mandate of the ecb would be
price stability, to which a fiscal straitjacket was added in the nineties.
The authors of each were German: Karl-Otto Pöhl and Theo Waigel. The
provisions of the latter were soon flouted by Germany itself, penalties
unenforced; of the former with more difficulty, since they prohibited the
central bank from purchase of government bonds. But in due course that
rule too was circumvented when need arose.67 qe started under Trichet at
the ecb, if far too meagrely for Tooze.
Reorganizing Europe
Dismissing the idea that any inescapable conflict between markets and
peoples, capitalism and democracy had much to do with pressures on
Greece and weaker members of the Eurozone in the crisis, Tooze blames
instead the refusal of the ecb to buy bonds in the required quantity.
Once it did so under Draghi, however, the squeeze on Greece did not
abate, but continued, as he himself notes.68 His account of the role of
Germany in these years contradicts itself no less freely. On the one
hand, he insists that its history forbade any ‘strategies of domination or
even overly assertive leadership’, acquitting its political class of any such
temptation. On the other, he is obliged to report that when Papandreou
and Berlusconi were ousted as premiers of Greece and Italy in 2011,
senior officials in Berlin could be heard boasting: ‘We do regime change
better than the Americans’; and to admit that the Fiscal Compact of 2013
was a straightforward imposition of the German ‘debt brake’ on the rest
of the Eurozone. Even Habermas could speak with dismay of Germany
openly claiming hegemony in Europe.69
66 Tooze, ‘A General Logic of Crisis’, London Review of Books, 5 January 2017, p. 7.
Of its economic intent, he merely remarks antiseptically that it sought ‘to install a
permanent disinflationary regime’.
67 ‘The whole concept of getting around European rules and doing qe without calling it qe was extremely clever’, Lucrezia Reichlin—former head of research at the
ecb—told the Financial Times on 8 February 2012, adding that it was Trichet’s idea. 68 Compare Crashed, pp. 397 and 532.
69 Compare Crashed, pp. 113–14 with 412, 417–18, 534.
82 nlr 119
The reality is that the European Union, as it came to be constructed at
Maastricht, half-way between confederal and federal principles, was an
institutionally complex, sui generis structure whose logic, as its membership expanded, virtually required a leading state or bloc of states to give
it direction. By reason not only of the size of its economy and population,
but also the local ideology and experience of its political class, Germany
was the natural candidate for this role, as itself at once a federal union,
architect of the central bank that would guide the monetary union of
Europe, and source of the legal culture behind it. Perceptive German
minds, contrary to Tooze, had no difficulty explaining their country’s role
as the hegemonic power within the eu of the new century, as necessary
to its coherence as Prussia had been to the Second Reich, another federal
structure, under Bismarck.70 At inter-state level, of course, as Hayek had
shown, popular sovereignty was excluded. At national level it remained,
if now properly qualified. Regrettably, however, direct expression of the
popular will, unacceptable in the Federal Republic, persisted in not a few
member states. A referendum in France had nearly undone Maastricht
itself, one in Denmark had excluded the country from the single currency, another in Ireland had threatened the same to the Treaty of Nice,
and worst of all—truly dismaying—a European Constitution laying
down the free market as a core value of the Union was overwhelmingly
rejected, not only by the famously fickle French but even the staunch
Dutch in the referendums of 2005. What was to be done? Germany lost
no time. Merkel swiftly confected a facsimile of the charter as a treaty
for signature by governments, who could be relied on to do their duty, as
opposed to voters who could not, and at Lisbon the requisite document
was adopted nem con.
How do these events feature in Crashed? ‘Left-wing hostility to the promarket character of the eu and nationalist hostility to Brussels’ united
to deliver a profound shock to Europe’s elite. ‘Whatever the rights and
wrongs of the constitution, popular democracy had asserted itself’. For
the space of a sentence, one might say. Imperturbably, Tooze continues:
Given the reality of increasingly close economic and financial integration
and the extension of the eu to Eastern Europe, the project of reorganizing
Europe could not be simply abandoned. A substitute had to be found. If a
true constitution was no longer a viable proposition, Europe would have
to proceed by the tried-and-tested formula of intergovernmental treaty.
70 For two leading cases, see The H-Word, London and New York 2017, pp. 169–76.
anderson: History 83
This gave a key role to Germany and from November 2005 that meant
Chancellor Angela Merkel.71
In other words, the vital task of ‘reorganizing Europe’ had nothing to do
with democracy—quite the contrary, and the appointed leader in neutering it was—not a word of explanation is even required: who else?—the
Chancellor of Germany. Its ‘key role’ was simply ‘given’.
Not that the nested structures of an ordo-liberal confederation and
hegemony of Berlin within it have ever been a complete fit, or that the
operationalization of the first invariably requires the second. Elsewhere,
Tooze can be blunter about the activities of the ecb, German-designed
but whose head has never so far been a German, describing the demand
by Trichet and Draghi that the Spanish and Italian governments cut
spending and increase taxes—in Italy, if necessary by invoking emergency Cold War powers, on pain of being denied purchase of local
bonds—as a ‘blatant attempt to shift the balance of social and political
power by means of monetary policy’.72 But neither episodes like this, nor
the subsequent imposition of the Fiscal Compact—not by coincidence,
grotesquely rammed into the constitutions of Spain and Italy—nor even
the racking of Greece, not to speak of the still harsher fate of Cyprus
(punished with a ruthless expropriation of local depositors, while eu
financial institutions lost not a cent), which is passed over in silence,
ever yield a critical overall reflection on the Union responsible for them.
Of its own accord, a situational-tactical narrative excludes this.
Behind it, however, in this instance plainly lies a parti pris. The single
currency is the ark of a covenant that is not to be questioned. Tooze does
not enter into the particulars of its untouchability, depositing allusion to
these into a footnote supported by a couple of technical say-so’s declaring doubts irreceivable. But an extreme susceptibility on the issue is
plain from treatment of arguments at variance with this core value as
little better than regression to tropes of national socialism.73 Evidence of
71 Crashed, p. 113. 72 Crashed, pp. 398–9. 73 Insinuation in ‘A General Logic of Crisis’ that Wolfgang Streeck, a leading critic
of the eu since Maastricht, must be infected with anti-Semitism belongs in the
sottisier of a Euro-dovecote prone to being flustered into such flights of imagination,
alongside Habermas’s warning to French voters that if they rejected the European
Constitution of 2005 they would be inviting a second Auschwitz. In Tooze’s case, it
should be said, this was a rare lapse: in debate he has usually been even-tempered
and generous.
84 nlr 119
the economic benefits of the euro, hard to come by, is not required.74
Explaining his pledge to do whatever it took to save it, Draghi did not
waste time trying to demonstrate these. He simply told his listeners, in
words Tooze might echo, that they should not underestimate ‘the amount
of political capital that is being invested in the euro’. Political capital: what
is that? The investment of the political class in its own immunity from
popular jurisdiction within the zone franche of the single currency.
Yet though it is taken as granted in Crashed that the Union of Maastricht is
a public good, its performance after 2008 offers Tooze few grounds for satisfaction. If at the end of the day the eurozone remained intact, it was not
of its own doing. So utterly inadequate was its response to the crisis that by
2010, ‘European affairs could no longer be safely left to the Europeans’.75
Only American leadership and example, once the ecb had learnt to follow
the Fed, could extricate it from floundering—‘the Eurozone was saved by
its belated Americanization’. But that was in keeping with the origins of
European integration, and the early, heady vision of its future that could
now be envisaged once again: ‘America had reasserted a new version of
liberal hegemony. Europe resumed the forward march to a United States
of Europe it had begun under American guidance in 1947.’76
Feet of clay
What then of the United States itself? There, paradoxically, Trump’s victory in 2016, a more drastic reversal than any development in Europe,
leads to a verdict on Obama’s record more caustic and consolidated than
74 Writing on the eve of the crisis in 2008, Andrea Boltho and Barry Eichengreen,
both supporters of European integration, concluded that the Common Market may
have increased gdp by 3–4 per cent from the late fifties to the mid-seventies; that
the impact of the ems was negligible; that the Single European Act may have added
perhaps another 1 per cent; and that it was unlikely that the Monetary Union had
had ‘more than a very small effect on the area’s growth rate or even level of output’. For these judgements, see ‘The Economic Impact of European Integration’,
Discussion Paper No 6820, Centre for Economic Policy Research, May 2008. None
of the writers—Martin Sandbu, Waltraud Schelkle, Erik Jones—cited by Tooze as
concurring with his attachment to the euro (Crashed, p. 619) offer a single figure in
support of the notion that it has promoted growth.
75 Crashed, p. 398.
76 Crashed, p. 444. After attributing this prospect to unnamed academic optimists,
Tooze ratifies it as ‘a reasonable assessment’, even if the stabilization of 2012,
and ‘the important phase of state building’ it involved, would come at a steep
political price.
anderson: History 85
can be found in Tooze’s treatment of either the institutions or leading
states of the eu. Due homage is paid to those who averted Armageddon.
But they did so with technocratic fixes and ‘spectacularly lopsided bailouts’ that made American capitalism even more concentrated and
oligopolistic than before, yielding a ‘dismal recovery’—one so inequitable that 95 per cent of what growth it generated was annexed by the top
1 per cent of Americans, the remainder seeing virtually no improvement
in their income after the crisis. Obama’s much touted health-care reform,
the Affordable Care Act, even if it had created its own constituency, was
by any larger measure ‘deeply disappointing’. Little or no support was
forthcoming to distressed mortgage-holders: unlike the bankers and
fund managers among whom Bernanke and Geithner would slide into
luxurious berths after departing government service, ‘they were the powerless ones’. Centrist liberalism might seem to have triumphed, but its
complacency was unwarranted. In 2014 the Democratic electoral rout
should have been warning enough. Trump a few months away, Obama
was telling people to ignore dark talk about society, and just take a walk
in the sun, watch their kids playing and hear the birds chirping, to
remind themselves what normal American life was like.77
Abroad, his administration had rescued Europe from financial breakdown and institutionalized the swap lines between the six principal
central banks of the oecd. Even as the political scene was deteriorating
at home, ‘the global dollar system was being given a new and unprecedentedly expansive foundation’.78 Yet however technically effective, this
was an extension of the reach of American power without public authorization, comparable in its way to the electronic surveillance system of the
nsa—each in their fashion offering a security blanket for the us and its
allies. This pairing, unsettling for any patriot, is followed by the least
conventional chapter of the book, a spirited critique of Western policy
towards Russia and intervention in Ukraine, in which the us and eu
share the odium of arrogance and blundering.
Already unexpectedly laudatory of Putin’s response to the financial crisis
of 2008, ‘one of the largest in the world’, a package of measures ‘dwarfing those undertaken by West European governments’,79 Tooze leaves
no doubt of his view about where primary blame lay in the descent of
Ukraine into civil war five years later. When the arrival of a client regime
77 Crashed, pp. 454–60; 581, 321; 565. 78 Crashed, p. 483. 79 Crashed, p. 225.
86 nlr 119
mentored by us proconsuls in Kiev met retaliation from Moscow with a
Russian take-over of the Crimea, the Obama Administration reached for
its weapon of choice with states recalcitrant to the American will, and
imposed sanctions—their first and only appearance in Crashed, though
from the beginning of its story they were the inseparable, geopolitical
face of the global dollar system whose expansion it records. Steadily
ratcheted up by Washington, complemented with follow-my-leader steps
from Brussels, and compounded by a steep fall in oil prices, the result
was a worse economic crisis in Russia than in 2009, hitting the population much harder. The Treasury’s war, as an exultant practitioner has
termed it, had racked up another benchmark as Obama exited: a new
Cold War with Russia.80
Crashed ends with a chapter, ‘The Shape of Things to Come’, on China.
Is that where the epic of American leadership of the world, in the trilogy
Tooze has devoted to it, finally encounters its limits, terrain beyond its
inspiration or control? By no means was the prc immune to the crisis of
2008, exports tumbling and unemployment rising. The ccp’s response
was a ‘gigantic surge in stimulus spending’, amounting to over 19 per cent
of gdp, that commands Tooze’s unstinting admiration. This was the largest Keynesian operation in history, a mobilization of resources on a scale
Western economies had only ever achieved under the pressure of war.
Its global impact was decisive. ‘In 2009, for the first time in the modern
era, it was the movement of the Chinese economy that carried the entire
world economy’. Relieved at the outcome though Washington might be,
could it be altogether reassuring? For what it now faced, ‘for the first time
since the rise of Nazi Germany’, was ‘a power that was, at one and the
same time, a potential geopolitical competitor, a hostile regime type and
a capitalist economic success story’. Integrated into the global economy
though the prc might be, ‘deeply shared economic interests of the kind
that legitimated the Fed’s swap lines to Europe’ would ‘be far harder to
develop’. Not that all was necessarily lost. The descent of the Shanghai
stock market and flight of wealth overseas in 2015 revealed not only the
inexperience of the Chinese authorities in handling capital markets, but
their dependence in managing the crisis on a helpful decision by the
Fed not to raise interest rates. There, solidarity of financial purpose held
80 See Juan Zarate, Treasury’s War: The Unleashing of a New Era of Financial Warfare,
New York 2013; the author, an official of Cuban background, worked for the Bush
Administration. For a gratified follow-up from the Obama regime in the shape of
a manual of how to apply the lessons of successfully bringing Iran to its knees, see
Richard Nephew, The Art of Sanctions, New York 2018.
anderson: History 87
good. But the Obama administration was not letting down its guard: its
campaign for tpp was clearly designed to contain the prc. For the fact
remains that ‘the victory of the West in the Cold War was far from complete. China’s triumph is a triumph for the Communist Party. This is still
the fundamental reason for doubting the possibility of truly deep cooperation with China in global economic governance. Unlike South Korea,
Japan or Europe, China is not a subordinate part of the American global
network’. The concluding anxious concatenation says everything. What
is ‘truly deep cooperation’? Subordination. What is ‘global economic governance’? One more cloying euphemism for us control. Tooze neither
assumes the syllogisms as his own, nor repudiates them.
v. liberalism’s faultlines
Enough has been said to bring home the virtues of Tooze’s trilogy, an
enterprise of formidable energy, ambition and imagination, vaulting in scope, absorbing in detail. What light then does a reading of it
cast on the paradox of Durand’s judgement of its concluding volume?
Methodologically, Tooze’s ‘situational and tactical approach’ plunges the
reader immediately into the stream of events; structural features emerge
only from the point of view of actors attempting to deal with them. Thus
the inter-imperialist War, the Great Depression, and the hypertrophy of
finance are taken as givens, as are in different ways the world-views of
Wilson, Hitler or Geithner. The method makes for compelling historical narrative, but it is premised on repressing structural explanation.
Politics and economics are indeed interrelated, as Durand observes,
but restrictively: treating the latter simply as the pragmatic field within
which the heroes and villains of the story make their policy decisions.
Thematically, the trilogy is unified by a single, highly individual optic: it
is star-struck by America. Not uncritical of it; but, as it were, mesmerized.
Tooze’s background in the Bonn Republic, where a long-lasting strand in
post-war culture mingled wide-eyed excitement with studious reverence
for the usa—a cross, one might say, between the fandom of a Wenders and
the pupillage of a Habermas—clearly accounts for much of this. ‘Perhaps
particularly as one who grew up in West Germany in the seventies and
eighties, as I did’, Tooze explained to his lrb audience, ‘America is gravity’.
That belief is the kink in the arc of his work. It is not an ideological vow,
like Habermas’s ‘unconditional orientation to the West’, but something
closer to a personal—or, as he would have it, generational—quirk. Some
88 nlr 119
political consequences, of course, ensue. Domestically, Tooze has no
difficulty finding fault with institutions, policies or persons in the us.
Internationally, on the other hand, the us always looms too large in the
balance of things—extravagantly in Wages, conspicuously in Deluge, still
perceptibly in Crashed; and—not invariably, but too often—from Wilson
and Dawes to Bernanke and Geithner, in the role of salvator mundi. The
stripe of a particular exaggeration runs through the work.
The politics of a left-liberalism require no special reference to America,
and if this is set aside, need to be considered in their own right. The
compound, as noted, tends to be unstable. Tooze’s version is no exception, swerving from a marked inflexion to the right in Deluge to a critical
turn to the left in Crashed. If a single token were to be picked of the
change, it would be the disappearance in the latter of the Manichean
establishment binary, dividing the world into ‘moderates’ and ‘extremists’, pervasive in the former. A radicalization is unmistakeable. But it is
uneven. Certain of its limits can be seen if Crashed is compared with two
earlier works covering the crisis of 2008–09 and its resolution, Simon
Johnson and James Kwak’s 13 Bankers (2011) and Martin Wolf’s The
Shifts and the Shocks (2014).
81 Neither Johnson, former chief economist
at the imf, nor Wolf, columnist and leader-writer for the Financial Times,
would think of themselves as connected to a left, however liberal. Yet
their treatment of Bernanke and Geithner is more stringent, and their
conclusions harder-hitting, than anything to be found in Crashed.
Opening his book with Bernanke’s vainglorious speech of 2004 on the
Great Moderation—hymning, in his words, ‘a world of outstanding
stability and superlative monetary policy’—Wolf terms it, with polite
contempt, ‘quaint’.82 It was the Panglossian confidence of economists
like these that, absent exogenous shocks, crises were impossible, which
four years later generated the crisis. For Johnson:
Paulson, Bernanke, Geithner and Summers chose the blank cheque option,
over and over again. They did the opposite of what the United States had
pressed upon emerging market governments of the 1990s. They did not
take harsh measures to shut down or clean up sick banks. They did not cut
major financial institutions off from the public dole. They did not touch the
channels of political influence that the banks had used so adeptly to secure
decades of deregulatory policies. They did not force out a single ceo of a
81 Subtitled, respectively: The Wall Street Takeover and the Next Financial Meltdown
and What We’ve Learned—and Have Still to Learn—from the Financial Crisis. 82 Martin Wolf, The Shifts and the Shocks, London 2014, p. 2.
anderson: History 89
major commercial or investment bank . . . The total cost of all those blank
cheques is virtually incalculable.83
The difference is palpable, too, when it comes to prescription. What, postcrisis, is to be done? Johnson, after a blistering attack on the ‘American
Oligarchy’ of half a dozen mega-banks, says the only remedy is to break
them up, confining any financial institution to a hard cap of 4 per cent
of gdp, and investment banks to 2 per cent. Wolf is willing to go much
further, urging renewed consideration of Irving Fisher’s plan to abolish
the ability of private banks to create money altogether, by obliging them
to hold 100 per cent reserves against their deposits, and giving the state
the exclusive right to issue money. No comparable proposals of any kind
can be found in Crashed. Tooze can legitimately reply they would be out
of place in the work of a historian. But as a prolific topical commentator in a wide variety of publications, the same does not apply. There too,
however, abstention would seem to be the rule.
Liberalism has always contained different shades, and its dominant
version has varied across countries and periods. In the capitalist world,
going back to the eighties, the line of division separating a liberal politics
from a politics of the left is their respective attitudes to the existing order
of things: does it require structural change or situational adjustment?84
The degree envisaged of each defines relative locations on either side of
the dividing-line. To see where Tooze’s position might lie requires a sense
of the dominant liberalism of the period. That comes in two inter-related
packages. Between states, the ‘liberal international order’ has for thirty
years been the touchstone of geopolitical reason: free markets, free
83 13 Bankers, p. 173. Reviewing Crashed, Johnson noted that Tooze ‘treads gently’
where us deregulation is concerned: ‘The people who get off lightest are senior
officials at the Federal Reserve, including Timothy Geithner, president of the New
York Fed during the go-go years’, whose self-serving claims Tooze accepts with
unwarranted credulity: Washington Post, 11 October 2018. For Geithner’s cramming
of his Treasury team with Wall Street operatives—his chief of staff was a former
top lobbyist for Goldman Sachs, others came from Citigroup, Blackstone, Merrill
Lynch—and constant communing—over eighty times in his first seven months in
office—with the heads of Goldman, jp Morgan and Citigroup, see 13 Bankers, pp.
186–7. A major theme of Johnson’s book, scarcely broached at all in Crashed, is the
political corruption of Washington by the country’s financial institutions.
84 Matters differed in the Communist world: there, of course, liberalism did mean
commitment to structural change, and in an exceptional figure like Dmitri Furman
could produce a liberalism of the left of a purity and power unlike anything to be
found in the West in the same period: for a description, see London Review of Books,
30 July and 27 August 2015.
90 nlr 119
trade, free movement of capital and other human rights, policed by the
most powerful nation on earth with help from its allies, in accordance
with its rules and its sanctions, its rewards and its retributions. Within
states, ‘neoliberalism’: privatization of goods and services, deregulation
of industries and of finance, fiscal retrenchment, de-unionization, weakening of labour, strengthening of capital—compensated by recognition
of gender and multicultural claims.
The first has reigned far more unchallenged than the second. Very few
liberals have seriously contested the principles of free trade, the primacy
of the United States, or the rule of international law as enshrined in
a United Nations whose decisions the us has for the most part been
able to determine at will. The liberal international order remains a precious icon. Many, on the other hand, have questioned or resisted the full
application of neoliberal measures within their own societies, nowhere
implemented in their entirety. The extent to which the first shapes the
intellectual universe of contemporary liberalism can be judged by the
adaptation of leading minds once on liberalism’s left to its requirements:
thinkers like Rawls, Habermas and Bobbio all furnishing apologetic
glosses on us wars of intervention against states declared outlaws by
Washington, with or without the affidavit of the Security Council.85 Tooze
has never compromised himself in this way. But the language of ‘global
economic governance’, cleansed of any reference to its most prominent
innovation, the proliferation of sanctions to strangle or bludgeon recalcitrant countries into line—‘war by other means’, as Ambassador Blackwill
candidly describes it—offers a route to much the same.86
What of the national plane of politics? Tooze has written with all due
trenchancy: ‘Under modern conditions, neoliberalism is, de facto, an
anti-democratic politics, which resolves the tension between capitalism
and democracy either by limiting the range of democratic discretion or
by interfering directly in the democratic process’.87 He has attacked the
85 See ‘Arms and Rights’, nlr 31, January–February 2005, pp. 5–40. 86 Robert Blackwill and Jennifer Harris, War by Other Means: Geoeconomics and
Statecraft, Cambridge, ma 2016. The liberal consensus around sanctions exceeds
even that in favour of its cousin, humanitarian intervention. In Congress, there were
just five votes in the House and the Senate against caatsa—Countering America’s
Adversaries Through Sanctions Act. Four were Republican, the fifth was Sanders,
who—unlike the others—explained that he was, of course, in favour of sanctions
against Russia. Every single Democrat in the two chambers voted for the bill.
87 ‘Tempestuous Seasons’, p. 19.
anderson: History 91
escalation of economic inequalities under the neoliberal regimen with no
less vigour, and criticized Pollyanna solutions to it. Piketty’s well-meaning
proposal of a global wealth tax, he writes in Crashed, ‘wasn’t wrong’:
It just sidestepped the reason it was needed in the first place, the brutal struggle for privilege and power, which for decades had enabled those at the top
to accumulate huge wealth, untroubled by any serious effort at redistribution. The answer, if there was one, was clearly not technical. It was political
in the most comprehensive sense. Power had to be met with power.88
When writing in this vein, Tooze has certainly earned his place on the
left of liberalism. But the compound is labile. Elsewhere in Crashed, he
can write without demur of Obama’s failure to deliver ‘a concerted drive
to unify American society around a sustained programme of investmentdriven growth and comprehensive modernization’.89 Unify American
society—or, power against power—cleave it?
If there is no clear-cut resolution of these tensions in Crashed, it is in part
because so much rhetorical emphasis falls on the technical complexity
of the ‘giant “systems” and “machines” of financial engineering’, and
the vital role of a pragmatic managerialism in keeping them running.
Central banks, Tooze has insisted, far from being stoppers of democracy, have often been flywheels of progress. After all, without the good
sense of the Bank of England and the Federal Reserve, could the Entente
have won the First World War, or the Allies the Second? Without helpful
counteractions by Carney and Draghi, could the fall-out of unfortunate
developments like the victory of Brexit in one referendum, or the defeat
of Renzi in another, have been contained? ‘It would be a grave theoretical
error and missed practical opportunity if technocratic structures were
held to be a diminution of politics’. They can enhance them. Think of
the ‘astounding flair for the situation’—magic term!—of someone like
Mario Draghi.90
When he writes in this mode, rather than looking to possible avenues of
democratic control over them, Tooze explains that ‘there are good reasons
to defend technocratic government against the unreasoning passions of
88 Crashed, p. 462. 89 Crashed, p. 454. 90 ‘Für eine Politik der Geldpolitik: Habermas, Streeck und Draghi’, co-authored
with Danilo Scholz, Merkur, May 2017, pp. 19–21, which extends Tooze’s criticisms
of Streeck, and takes Habermas’s conversion to the president of the ecb as a measure of its wisdom.
92 nlr 119
mass democracy. It is all too obvious today how important it is to be
able to identify matters of potential technical agreement beyond politics.’
Sanity and lunacy so distributed, how can irrational masses be brought
to accept rational decisions taken by the Bernankes and the Draghis?
There, essential is that ‘coalitions be assembled for unpopular but essential actions’—not just as a conjunctural, but as a permanent necessity:
‘building such ad hoc and lopsided political coalitions is what the governance of capitalism under democratic conditions entails’.91
Unpopular but essential actions: Tooze’s indictment of the eu brutalization of Greece is searing enough. But does he have anything to say about
Tsipras’s shredding of a referendum to comply with it? Nothing. A silent
sigh of relief can be deduced. For wasn’t such surrender the responsible
course of action, as Stresemann showed? It is enough to recall Durand’s
verdict in Fictitious Capital on the overall tale Tooze’s book tells to see
the difference between the two writers: ‘Finance is a master blackmailer.
Financial hegemony dresses up in the liberal trappings of the market,
yet captures the old sovereignty of the state all the better to squeeze the
body of society to feed its own profits.’ That note is missing in Crashed.
There, blackmail—not called as such—is regrettable, but acceptable.
Ad hoc and lopsided coalitions: to date, the most specific illustration
Tooze has offered comes in a recent piece on Germany, his European
land of reference, in the lrb. In it, he argues for the creation of a Red–
Red–Green alliance of the spd, Die Linke and the Greens, in place of
the current Black–Red coalition of the cdu–csu–spd that has ruled the
country since 2013, as previously from 2005 to 2009. Within the alternative bloc of his hopes, his preference plainly goes to the spd, hailed
as ‘no ordinary political party’, but one that for 150 years, from the time
of Bismarck to that of Merkel, has ‘stood for a vision of a better, more
democratic and socially just Germany’—as if these were adjectives
that could encompass the vote for war credits in 1914, the use of the
Freikorps to dispatch Luxemburg and Liebknecht, the McCarthyism of
the Radikalenerlass in the seventies, and the practice of renditions in this
century: not the whole record, but an indelible part of it. Today, obstructing the prospect of a Red–Red–Green alliance is ‘Die Linke’s ingrained
hostility to nato’.92 The good sense of the spd’s Kaisertreu fealty to it
goes without saying.
91 ‘Tempestuous Seasons’, pp. 20–1; Crashed, pp. 615, 613. 92 Tooze, ‘Which Is Worse?’, London Review of Books, 18 July 2019, pp. 19, 21.
anderson: History 93
Such questions aside, what should be the programme of a future Red–
Red–Green government? Formally speaking, Tooze’s article is a review
of four recent books on Germany, to which he adds three others as he
proceeds, though as often in the lrb reference to them is cursory, none
accorded the dignity of an actual review. Much of the substance of the
piece is devoted to the social consequences of Hartz iv, Schröder’s ‘tough
new system of welfare and labour-market regulation’, imposed in 2005.
Though he prefers a more to a less lenient view of its neoliberal agenda,
and complains that the spd gets no credit for ‘earnest efforts to rebalance’ its consequences—a minimum-wage law has since belatedly ended
a situation in which Germany was one of the last countries in Europe
without one93—Tooze leaves no doubt that the condition of the country
is far from ideal: inequality has soared, precarity has spread, and with
it social and political unrest. To remedy such ills, what agenda of social
repair does he outline for a Red–Red–Green coalition? Answer: Germany
needs ‘a more pro-European government’, one capable of responding to
the ‘bold vision of Europe’s future’ offered by a ‘charismatic’ Emmanuel
Macron94—a leader famously capable of constructing a transverse, if lopsided coalition and taking unpopular, but essential decisions. Nothing
else. ‘Europe can ill afford further delay’. That empty signifier is all.
It would be wrong to make too much of this. Tooze spreads himself
widely, and his accents and formulations vary from place to place. That’s
often the price of a growing reputation—la primadonna é mobile—and
shouldn’t be taken too seriously. To criticisms of inconsistency, he can in
any case reply quite reasonably that nothing he has written falls outside
the parameters of a basic commitment to liberalism as it has developed
in the West from the time of Wilson and Lloyd George to that of Geithner
and Macron, and no one can accuse Crashed of lacking a social sensibility
in keeping with this tradition. Yet in today’s world, the question can be
asked: how far does that differ from running with the hare and hunting
with the hounds—indignant sympathy for the hare, awed admiration for
the hounds? ‘Power must be met with power’. Truly?
93 A minimum wage was repeatedly proposed to the spd by Die Linke and declined
by it, at a time when the two parties had sufficient votes to pass one in the Bundestag.
94 ‘Which Is Worse?’, pp. 19, 22; for ‘bold vision’ and Macron, see Crashed, pp. 595,
562
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