Category: History & Politics

  • Debt: The First 5000 Years

    David Graeber

    If it doesn’t upend deeply held beliefs and origin stories, it isn’t really a Graeber book! The story goes that from money came debit and credit, but in Debt, he argues, with excellent evidence as always, that long before money came into the picture, we had ‘human economies’ which were imprecise, informal, and had a community-focused and shared ecosystem approach. An ‘everyday communism’ in which people owed favours to each other. And then the favour was converted into a mathematically precise entity, mostly thanks to the machinations of war, and sponsored by the state. Cash, barter, and every other method of financial transaction came later, and began exclusively for scenarios where there was low trust. Debts cannot be stolen, gold and silver can. Favours are relationships. Debt is a transaction. And thus ‘the history of debt is also the history of money’. 

    He begins with the morality of debt and the paradox of two popular views – paying back what one owes is moral, and lending money as a habit/profession is evil. In the fantastic section on ‘primordial debt’, he traces the cultural narrative of humans owing debts to the God who created them, and how sacrifices were a means to try and pay a debt that could never be repaid. People also owed a debt to society in general, and governments became the custodian of it.

    Using evidence (or the lack of it) he shows how the common story of barter leading to a common currency is a myth and that it stemmed from a narrative of ‘the economy’ that was ‘separate from moral or political life’. Barter is a very recent phenomenon, and the correct order is actually credit systems (‘virtual money’ – not to be confused with digital!) – money – barter. And when money came into the picture, it served as a yardstick – of debt. A coin was an IOU. And one that the state was interested in because they wanted uniform systems of weights and measures across their kingdom. 
    He proposes that there are three moral principles on which all economic relations are founded – communism (or love if you don’t want to sound political), hierarchy, and exchange. The first was based on expectations and responsibilities from/to each other. Then there is exchange based on equality and reciprocity (these don’t lead to a ‘market’). The hierarchies, over a period of time, formalised inequalities into castes and related customs and behaviour. 

    In early civilisations – India, Sumer – there were ‘primitive money’ mechanisms, such as the ones which were used to arrange marriages, resolve blood feuds ans other social interactions where there was a debt, but which was not easy to quantify. It was common for people to get into levels of debt that forced them/their family to get into ‘peon service’, which resulted in slavery. But they could work their way out of debt. Also, early kings did a reset on a regular basis by canceling all debts. But when violence got into the picture, things changed. War converted ‘human economies’ into ‘market economies’. In war, a person ‘owes’ his/her conqueror his/her life, and the conqueror can extract anything he wants. Humans became slaves, a commodity that could be bought and sold. To be a slave was to be ‘not free’ and in debt, forever. 

    All of this last part began in the Axial Age (800BC to 600AD) when markets first started appearing as a side effect of government administration. But this soon got mixed up with war. When wars abounded, being a soldier became a profession. Coinage was a way to pay these soldiers/mercenaries. Gold and silver were mined by slaves and/or acquired during a war, and states started insisting that they serve as legal tender for all payments. A sort of ‘military-coinage-slave’ complex. This was the time that coinage was invented. First by private citizens and then appropriated by the state. Alexander was apparently responsible for killing the old credit systems. Precious metals, owned by temples and rich people thus far, started making its way into the life of common folks. 

    In parallel, historic all-time greats such as Pythagoras, Confucius and Buddha co-existed (with little knowledge of each other) and humans started reasoned enquiry into the nature of things, and practically every major religion in the world was born, trying to find new ways of thinking about ethics and morality. They rejected the violence of politics, and tried using the knowledge from impersonal markets to create a new sense of morality. But except in China, religion and market couldn’t stay together for long. 
    In the Middle Ages (600-1450 AD), when old empires collapsed and new ones began to form, hard currency began to be less commonly used, but the system of accounts and credit continued to be used. Even Europe did not revert to barter. And elsewhere in the world, new financial systems and instruments began to emerge – promissory notes and paper money (China, where the empire survived), and letters of credit and cheques (in the Islamic world). The roots of most of the worldview in finance can be traced back here. First, China’s less-than-appreciative view of capitalism. ‘Merchants were greedy and immoral’ and ‘if kept under careful administrative supervision, they could be made to serve the public good.’ There is a very interesting part about Buddhism turning to high-interest loans and altering debt-contracts to fuel its expansion! In the Islamic world, the merchant was a respected figure, pursuing honourable adventures in far lands, sealing transactions with ‘a handshake and a glance at heaven’. Despite this capitalism in its current form didn’t emerge there because the government was kept away from the markets, and the merchants ensured profits were the reward for risk. Guaranteed returns (fixed rates of interest) were a concept frowned upon in Islam. Interestingly, over in Europe, this was when Roman law was revived and ‘interest’ began to be seen as ‘a compensation for losses suffered due to delayed payment’. It was also when the Jews started getting a bad rep for charging high interest rates. Interesting side journeys include the Crusades as a way to create new markets, and Shakespeare’s ‘Merchant of Venice’ being a guilty projection of terrors directed the other way around. 

    We finally get to the Age of the Great Capitalistic Empires (1450-1971 AD) – the Atlantic slave trade and the mining of gold and silver in the Americas, which was mostly used to trade in China, India and the Far East. This prompted the return of the bullion economy and the emergence of Italian city-states which ignored the Catholic Church’s ban on usury and ultimately led to the current age of great capitalist empires. Also, a reemergence of military endeavours – ‘when Vasco da Game entered the Indian Ocean in 1498, the principle that the seas should be a zone of peaceful trade came to an immediate end’. In the Axial Age, money was a tool of the empire. When the latter collapsed, the former went with it. But now, money was autonomy and political and military powers were reorganised around it. Municipal bonds were first introduced by the Venetian government as a way to levy a compulsory loan on taxpaying citizens to fund a military campaign. It promised 5% annual interest and these bonds were negotiable, creating a market for government debt. The beginning of paper money in the Western world. But it was the creation of the Bank of England in 1694 and its bank notes that truly made paper money mainstream. 

    In 1971, Nixon announced that foreign-held US dollars would no longer be convertible to gold. And that was the end of the gold standard. Since then, American imperial power is based on a perpetual debt – a promise to its own people and nations across the world! Fiat money backed by public trust. When it needs money, it prints it! And the premise that some of us have to pay our debts and some of us don’t. 

    Thus, a book that has world history, religion, the state and the military, and yes, the origin of money. It isn’t as though I can absorb or understand all the contexts and perspectives that Graeber offers in his books. But I read it for three things – one is that he provides view that is starkly original, different and thought-provoking as compared to prevalent narratives, the second is that his research quality is so good that even though I may not comprehend everything, there are bits that are amazing information/insights, and the third is that is that he is incredibly empathetic and earnest about how things should be better for everyone.

    Debt

  • Identity: Contemporary Identity Politics and the Struggle for Recognition

    Francis Fukuyama

    Francis Fukuyama did a fantastic job of framing the history of geopolitics in the two-part Political Order series. At a very broad level, most people agree that liberal democracies are the best form of governance and are ‘moving towards Denmark’. However, there are critical exceptions, like Russia and China, and there has also been a revival of (hyper)nationalism. A related area is contemporary identity politics. This is what he attempts to unravel in the book.

    Early in the book, he points out that liberal democracies have not solved for thymos – ‘the part of the soul that craves recognition of dignity’. Whether it’s a large nation like Russia or China, or smaller segments in US, Britain etc, the common link is an identity that they feel has not been given adequate recognition. The segments could be based on religion, gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and so on. In all cases, the conflict is around an inner self whose worth and dignity is not recognised by an external world. With the modern world laying a lot of importance on authenticity, anger and hate are not far away.

    The first few chapters are around the evolution of identity – from Plato’s Republic to Luther’s Protestant reformation and capacity for moral choice to which Rousseau added expression of personal experiences and feelings that were suppressed by society at large. As we moved away from agrarian societies with a strict hierarchy to technology-driven societies with multiple social classes, pluralism, diversity, and choice emerged and identity started becoming increasingly complex. By early nineteenth century, there was a fork – universal recognition of individual rights, and collective recognition. Nationalism and religion have been the largest aggregators of the latter, and he offers an excellent perspective on the parallels between Nazism and Islam fundamentalism to show how they’re grounded on the same principles. 

    The latter led to a narrative of a historic culture being undermined by ‘others’ around. That’s the area that everyone from Modi to Shinzo Abe to Islamic fundamentalists have exploited. Meanwhile, the former led to a ‘therapeutic society’ catering to the emotional requirements of individuals and raising self esteem. The question to any group thus becomes ‘do you want to be treated the same or different’.

    The thrust in the rest of the book is about the need for dialogue and discourse and how identity politics could hamper that. There are examples of the US, EU and the solutions to their current problems around identity and politics. The good part is that the story thus far has been viewed through a multidisciplinary lens and is elegantly thought through. But the challenge that Fukuyama faces is that while there are very few arguments one can make on how the path to the current state has been framed, by definition the subject of identity is nuanced, and one could argue that it cannot be attributed to a single factor like thymos. Note, arguable only because it could be that things like economics, caste etc are dimensions of thymos. 

    The hope is that he writes a second part – a forward-looking one that captures how contemporary phenomena like social media, increasing wealth disparity, gender fluidity etc affects identity and its politics, and what it means to society and culture as we ‘progress’.

  • The Great Game : On Secret Service in High Asia

    Peter Hopkirk

    I first came across “The Great Game” in Sherlock Holmes. Not the series, the book! The phrase is attributed to Captain Arthur Conolly (but made famous in the book Kim), and fittingly his last moments in 1842 in Bokhara, a classic Great Game location, is where Peter Hopkirk starts his narrative. The Great Game was the name given to the diplomatic and political confrontation between two empires – British and Russian – across Central and South Asia that happened through the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth.

    The British felt that the ultimate aim for all of Russia’s expansions in the Central Asian region was its crown jewel – India, and the Russians didn’t take kindly to any attempts made by the British to block these advances. While a lot of it seems like shadowboxing, it involved intrigues, treachery, and adventures featuring individuals on both sides, Sultans and Shahs and minor chieftains, and sepoys and Cossacks fighting for every inch and fort. 
    When it all began between Victorian Britain and Tsarist Russia, over 2000 miles separated them, and by the time it ended in early 1900s it had come down to 20 miles. The book features the military personnel and politicians on both sides, many of whom made dangerous trips in the guise of traders and holy men into areas where no white man had been before, and in some cases, gave up their lives to seek information that would strengthen their respective empires. Across the 1800s, the British explored the many paths that Russia could use to conquer India, even as Russia increased its sphere of control across Central Asia. Beginning with France, the Ottoman Empire, the Persian empire, and then Tashkent, Samrkhand, Bukhara, Khiva and Afghanistan, and towards the final stages Tibet, China and Japan, this was Monopoly being played at global levels and possibly the longest and most intense geopolitical conflict the world saw before the Great War. Ironically enough, in that war, the former foes were allies. 

    In the context of the US leaving Afghanistan, this book, written in 1990 offers a fantastic lesson in history – not of the Soviets in the late 1980s, but the humiliating and tragic withdrawal of the British in the 1840s when they tried to displace Dost Mohammed with their favourite Shah Shuja. Peter Hopkirk tells history the way it should be told – a very accessible narrative, full of excellent details, and practically recreating entire episodes for the reader. If you like history, this is a must-read. If not, it’s still a treasure trove of excellent, old fashioned intrigue.

  • Doom: The Politics of Catastrophe

    Niall Ferguson

    This, if I’m not mistaken, is Niall Ferguson’s fifteenth book, and it shows in the buffet of information and perspectives that the book offers. The title Doom : The Politics of Catastrophe does a good job of not forcing the book into any category. More on that towards the end. It allows Ferguson a free hand in bringing his breadth and depth of knowledge to a bunch of relatively disparate subjects – history, epidemiology, cliodynamics, network theory, economics, geopolitics – all viewed through the lenses of catastrophe and decision-making. 

    Across different chapters of the book, we are fed a rich assortment of disasters – from the eruption of Vesuvius (geological) to the World Wars (geopolitical) to the Spanish Flu and AIDS (medical) to Chernobyl, Challenger, and the Titanic (oh well, hubris) to the recent handling of the pandemic by various nations. It does a good job of showing what we can learn from history (and don’t!) Disaster (mis)management has its own categorisation too – failure to learn, failure of imagination, tendency to fight the last war/crisis, threat underestimation, procrastination. 

    As much as it enlightens, I think it is also meant to provoke – not just the low-hanging fruit like Trump supporters, but even climate change activists (calling Thunberg a “child saint of the twenty-first-century millennialist movement”) and those who support a lockdown as a necessary course of action (which Ferguson seems skeptical about). He is also clearly on the side of institutional incompetence as opposed to individual idiocy. 

    The broad scope of the book, not just on the temporal and geographical axes, but also on disciplines, sometimes made me dizzy. It doesn’t help that in the first few sections Ferguson is reeling out facts and figures like a “this day in history” AI gone rogue, and in one chapter tries to connect Black Swans, Gray Rhinos and Dragon Kings! What loses out in all this is the narrative arc, and patterns a reader could use to make sense of the direction of the book. (Guns, Germs & Steel or the two-part Political Order come to mind as positive examples) 

    I’d also say that the attempt by the publisher to link this to the pandemic was probably belated (after the author had written most of the book), too obvious, and doesn’t do the book any favours as it tries to weld COVID-19 to a general history of catastrophe. That is not to say the book isn’t worth reading. On the contrary, it does a great job of not just historical chronicling, but also uncovers precedents (Asian flu 1957-58, which is missing from most coverage of COVID, but was the closest on many counts), linkages without narrative fallacies, causes (active and latent), and in the end even categorises dystopian sci-fi – the “history of the future”!

    Doom The Politics of Catastrophe

  • How the World Works

    Noam Chomsky

    I think the biggest proof of the US hegemony that Chomsky brings up regularly is how (relatively) unknown he is to the world at large. Because it’s not the kind of publicity the US would like. It’s true that the name has come up in many conversations online, and that is the reason I picked up this book, but for his quality of ideas, he really should be known and quoted a lot more.

    This book serves as a great introduction to Chomsky’s perspectives, not just because of the different topics that have been covered, but also because of how accessible it is – thanks to it being derived from the spoken word through Chomsky’s many media interactions. And yes, the index does help when you want to read about a specific topic and get a quote. There is some repetition, but that is to be expected, and as a contemporary reader, we may not have all the contexts, but that’s also a small price to pay. 

    Of the many topics covered, the US government acting as a bully inside and outside the country is one that’s central. Calling out its usage of government agencies, its military, its allies, as well as international organisations like the UN to enforce its will on nations is what makes Chomsky unpopular. Any nation or leader that attempts an alternate path, especially that is good for the people in the long term, is at the receiving end of many deterrents – local and international – acting in the interest of the US. Because an example is dangerous – it shows that something is possible, countries like Vietnam and many countries in Latin America like Brazil have had to pay the price. All of this became even more easier once the Cold War ended. Though it was convenient to show the USSR as the bogeyman, the US was also good at creating other villains. Within the country, the idea is to ensure that the social, economic and political agenda of an elite class is implemented and also that the general public doesn’t get to have a say in the matter even though it’s supposed to be a democracy. Big business has an important play in this and over a period of time, media which is supposed to be a conscience-keeper, becomes a cheerleader. 

    It’s amazing how well his insights age, as many of them can be used in current contexts. It is also fascinating to see history rhyme – Daimler-Benz and Fidelity as predecessors to Big Tech in holding cities ransom and threatening to vote with their feet if they didn’t get tax cuts.


    On one hand, it is a little heartening that the problems we face now aren’t new. The scale and manifestation might have changed, but the fundamental causes are the same. On the other hand, it does seem that there really is no hope on things getting better – the wealth gap decreasing, or the common citizen getting a level playing field. Chomsky’s view is that these are not laws of nature and that the individual can play a role in changing things, but he points out that it only works if everyone takes the subway. If some drive, it’s going to be better for those who drive! Classic prisoner’s dilemma. When educated classes line up for a parade, he says, people of conscience have three options – march in the parade, join the cheering throngs on the sidelines, or speak out against the parade (and of course, expect a price for doing that!) and that’s been the story for a thousand years and more. 

    I am not sure I have read anyone else who has so much information on things that happened in the world and is able to cite examples for any question asked, is able to convert that into knowledge that connects the assorted pieces, and then deliver such timeless insights. Irreplaceable, I think.