Introduction: In turbulent times, our understanding of power dynamics and societal shifts becomes crucial. This analysis explores the concept of American imperialism as articulated in Daniel Bessner’s collection, *Imperialist Realism: Politics and Culture at the End of the American Century*, probing the implications of such an empire and its impact on both domestic and global landscapes.
The phrase, “May you live in interesting times,” is often mistaken for a Chinese proverb, yet its origins might be traced back to Austen and Neville Chamberlain’s father. Those of us living today could certainly attest to the interestingness of our times—filled with uncertainty, complexity, and instability. Such a reality suggests not a lack of clarity, but rather the absence of a proper perspective. A deeper examination often uncovers links that the prevailing powers wish to suppress.
Many Americans might contend that the American Empire does not exist, and indeed, the legacy of American imperialism remains unacknowledged compared to the more candid acknowledgment of British colonialism. It is indisputable that American imperialism exists, yet contextualizing it accurately has proven challenging. Often, the assertion that imperialism is merely the highest, perhaps ultimate, stage of capitalism is too simplistic to encompass the full narrative. Over recent years, my readings have included essays by Daniel Bessner, a University of Washington scholar. Many of these writings have converged into the insightful book Imperialist Realism: Politics and Culture at the End of the American Century. While a growing number of Americans are questioning the mainstream belief that the American imperium has been an unqualified force for good, there remains minimal resistance against its existence:
Bessner introduces the idea of imperialist realism—speculating that it is often easier to envision the apocalypse than to conceive an end to the U.S. Empire. He argues that Americans embrace their imperial role largely because they feel powerless to change it. Even as they engage with it internationally, Americans tend to perceive their empire as something extrinsic, leading to a sense of alienation. This perceived permanence of the U.S. Empire fosters acceptance among citizens.
Imperialist realism echoes the work of the late Mark Fisher, who famously stated, “It is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism” in his book Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative?.
Throughout his essays, Bessner skillfully critiques the Cold War Liberal Internationalism held by America’s political leadership. He elaborates on the belief that the United States embodies the fundamental force for good, marked by a benevolent hegemony rightfully bestowed upon the world, claiming that the Cold War was crucial for the prosperity of “civilization.” Using the work of liberal internationalists Ivo H. Daalder and James M. Lindsay, Bessner highlights key elements in their book The Empty Throne: America’s Abdication of Global Leadership:
Describing the perspective of Daalder and Lindsay as overly optimistic regarding Cold War history would be an understatement. Their narrative suggests that during the mid-1940s, U.S. policymakers oriented the world order not on principles of cooperation and law but through military and imperial dominance. Essentially, Americans appropriated the right to act for humanity, often through questionable means—covertly attempting regime changes 64 times during the Cold War, fostering environments less likely to achieve democracy, and more prone to conflict.
Examining events through the lens of “blowback,” Chalmers Johnson aptly identified a pattern neglected by liberal ideologues, who seem unable to envision a world without American supremacy. This inclination toward American exceptionalism traces back to a lofty mission stemming from World War II—a narrative predicated on misinformation rather than reason. The results of such interventions have often been disastrous. Contrary to the popular claim that “they hate us for who we are,” the reality is that “they” resent us for what we’ve done. Until the United States reconnects with its foundational “better angels,” improvement may remain elusive.
In his essay “Empire Burlesque” from Harper’s in 2022, Bessner reflects on the evolution of John Winthrop’s “shining city on a hill” into a heavily fortified metropolis. According to Stephen Wertheim, American strategy relies on “armed primacy,” where spreading military presence globally is deemed essential for “human flourishing” and the future of liberal democratic capitalism. In contrast, China maintains only a handful of military bases. Yet, echoes of Washington’s warnings in George Washington’s Farewell Address against entanglements and intervention still hold significance. As John Quincy Adams noted, America abstained from meddling in the affairs of others, a principle now seemingly forgotten.
bessner posits an increasing discomfort among the populace regarding imperialism, exacerbated by recent administrative actions. He succinctly observes:
Since the late 1970s, Americans have borne the burdens of empire—militarization, racism, xenophobia, and endless wars—without seeing substantial benefits, except for the intangible rewards associated with living in an imperial hub.
This notion of “psychic wages” has been a longstanding feature of American society. For instance, the post-Civil War Southern Bourbons leveraged psychic wages to support their wealth, a practice that persisted until the end of World War II. The period known as the Great Compression saw a brief improvement for the working class, only for neoliberal policies to dismantle those gains from the 1970s onward.
Will this growing dissatisfaction compel those reliant on wages to awaken from complacency? Perhaps not. Nevertheless, the anxiety displayed by our modern oligarchs suggests they understand the stakes. “Psychic wages” cannot substitute for essential needs such as food, shelter, healthcare, and education, nor do they afford any real escape from the burdens of modern labor.
The middle section of *Imperialist Realism* dissects familiar figures like Barack Obama, George Soros, and Noam Chomsky, serving as a reminder of the paths that have led to our current state. Bessner critically evaluates Mearsheimer’s realist critique of interventions in contemporary conflicts, while his insights into Soros reveal important truths about the elite’s disconnect:
Soros has accurately linked Trump’s election to the societal disruptions caused by market fundamentalism and the Great Recession, emphasizing how the failures of political leaders to address voters’ needs paved the way for disenchantment with democratic and capitalist norms.
Yet, Bessner points out, Soros exhibits the same elitism characteristic of many in the Professional Managerial Class, demonstrating a troubling detachment from the working majority:
Soros views the broader populace as an ethereal entity, rarely engaging with their realities while advocating for elite-driven solutions to societal issues.
Such condescending perspectives exemplify systemic issues embedded in American political economic ideologies. Bessner concludes with two essays concerning contemporary politics, one of which provocatively states, “Since the 2016 election of Donald Trump, a specter has haunted the United States—the specter of fascism.” His exploration of Fascism Comes to America by Bruce Kuklick examines how this term has been utilized over the past century, exploring its evolving meaning.
This revelation prompts discourse regarding whether the U.S., along with several other nations, might align with Robert O. Paxton’s definition of fascism. The term ‘fascism’ has transitioned into a mere label, frequently wielded in political rhetoric to demonize opponents, regardless of context or accuracy.
Shifts in political discourse further complicate these discussions, as accusations of fascism seamlessly infiltrate conversations surrounding various individuals ranging from Paul Krugman to Hillary Clinton. Scholars like the late Eugene Genovese have even traced certain feminist theories to fascist roots, emphasizing the need for careful consideration of such comparisons.
Kuklick criticizes attempts to trace fascism into American history, arguing it distracts from inherent domestic challenges like racism and militarization, rather than acknowledging that these complexities originated from within.
Surprisingly, it’s worth noting why Trump is frequently branded as a fascist in contrast to figures like George W. Bush, whose policies have similarly invoked criticism:
George W. Bush established ICE and the Department of Homeland Security, agencies that resonate uncomfortably with fascist tactics—yet these reflections often evade scrutiny in political discourse.
Furthermore, the language used by the previous administration deployed terms with troubling historical associations, illuminating a broader disconnect in political awareness nationwide. Americans are not inherently unique; thus, the question of accountability resonates broadly.
In his concluding essay, “This is America,” Bessner addresses the ramifications of Trump’s ongoing influence on national discourse surrounding fascism:
While there may be noble intentions behind the invocation of fascism, it obscures critical issues within our current political climate. The rise of Trumpism is less an alien incursion than a product of longstanding American traditions and requires a recalibrated focus on its domestic origins in order to combat its implications effectively.
Therefore, Donald Trump embodies the symptom of deeper societal ailments rather than serving as the root cause. This notion of cyclical patterns within American history is familiar to anyone acquainted with the works of Christopher Lasch, who highlighted that Trump is hardly an anomaly, but a continuation of historical trends. Ultimately, Americans must confront the question: “What actions should we undertake?” Simple solutions remain elusive, emphasizing the necessity of collective, earnest efforts in increasingly challenging environments.
Conclusion: The essays in *Imperialist Realism* address long-standing questions regarding the implications of American imperialism and its roots in contemporary society. The unfulfilled promise of a post-Cold War “peace dividend” reveals an ongoing struggle against phantom threats while perpetuating cycles of distress. Ultimately, the pursuit of a humane society built on cooperation and solidarity remains a distant aspiration, echoing our ongoing existence in “interesting times.”
Notes
[1] From the author, n.13: “The concept of imperialist realism repurposes critic Mark Fisher’s idea of capitalist realism, which he defined as ‘the widespread sense that not only is capitalism the only viable political and economic system, but also that it is now impossible even to imagine a coherent alternative to it.’” The quote about capitalism has also been attributed to Fredric Jameson.
[2] This is a play on Sinclair Lewis’s It Can’t Happen Here. Lewis’s novel is very good. Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men is better in my view, but perhaps not the outright critique of fascism as the former. And the movie version has Broderick Crawford and Mercedes McCambridge. In the right hands, It Can’t Happen Here would also have been a great movie.
[3] When it comes to social anthropology, I tend to be in the Marvin Harris camp rather than the Lévi-Strauss camp, whose structuralism also seems to be a “floating signifier.” But the concept of floating signifier itself is important. We have way too many of them floating about in the aether.
