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A summary of Charles Tilly’s ideas
(copied from my blog)
Reading Charles Tilly’s classic Coercion, Capital, and European States, AD 990–1992 (1992).
Taking notes on it for myself, but also for any interested readers. It’s an influential account of how
and why Western and ultimately global civilization took the political form it had achieved by the
late twentieth century.
The book is structured in part around the dualism or dialectic between cities and states, or, more
exactly, “capital” and “coercion.” (But also, more memorably, the importance of war as a factor
in state formation.) As Tilly says,
Over the eight or ten millennia since the couple first appeared, cities and states have
oscillated between love and hate. Armed conquerors have often razed cities and
slaughtered their inhabitants, only to raise new capitals in their place. City people
have bolstered their independence and railed against royal interference in urban
affairs, only to seek their king’s protection against bandits, pirates, and rival groups
of merchants. Over the long run and at a distance, cities and states have proved
indispensable to each other.
Why did national states and national armies eventually win out in Europe over other forms of state
organization, such as regional empires, city-states, and federations of cities? “Surely part of the
answer lies in the dialectic of cities and states that developed within a few hundred years after
990… Behind the changing geography of cities and states operated the dynamics of capital (whose
preferred sphere was cities) and of coercion (which crystallized especially in states). Inquiries into
the interplay between cities and states rapidly become investigations of capital and coercion.”
“…Only late and slowly did the national state become the predominant form. Hence the critical
double question: What accounts for the great variation over time and space in the kinds of states
that have prevailed in Europe since AD 990, and why did European states eventually converge on
different variants of the national state? Why were the directions of change so similar and the paths
so different? This book aims to clarify that problem, if not to resolve it entirely.”
After summarizing the perspectives of other theorists, Tilly gives a useful general statement of his
argument:
This book takes up the problem where Barrington Moore, Stein Rokkan, and Lewis
Mumford left it: at the point of recognizing decisive variations in the paths of
change followed by states in different parts of Europe during successive epochs,
with the realization that the class coalitions prevailing in a region at a given point
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in time strongly limited the possibilities of action open to any ruler or would-be
ruler, and with the specific hypothesis that regions of early urban dominance, with
their active capitalists, produced very different kinds of states from regions in which
great landlords and their estates dominated the landscape. It goes beyond Moore,
Rokkan, and Mumford most emphatically in two ways: first by placing the
organization of coercion and preparation for war squarely in the middle of the
analysis, arguing in its rasher moments that state structure appeared chiefly as a byproduct of rulers’ efforts to acquire the means of war; and second by insisting that
relations among states, especially through war and preparation for war, strongly
affected the entire process of state formation. Thus in this book I derive alternative
histories of state formation from continuously-varying combinations of
concentrated capital, concentrated coercion, preparation for war, and position
within the international system.
There follows a more detailed and lengthy statement, which I might as well quote here too:
Men who controlled concentrated means of coercion (armies, navies, police forces,
weapons, and their equivalent) ordinarily tried to use them to extend the range of
population and resources over which they wielded power. When they encountered
no one with comparable control of coercion, they conquered; when they met rivals,
they made war.
Some conquerors managed to exert stable control over the populations in
substantial territories, and to gain routine access to part of the goods and services
produced in the territory; they became rulers.
Every form of rule faced significant limits to its range of effectiveness within a
particular kind of environment. Efforts to exceed that range produced defeats or
fragmentation of control, with the result that most rulers settled for a combination
of conquest, protection against powerful rivals, and coexistence with cooperative
neighbors.
The most powerful rulers in any particular region set the terms of war for all;
smaller rulers faced a choice between accommodating themselves to the demands
of powerful neighbors and putting exceptional efforts into preparations for war.
War and preparation for war involved rulers in extracting the means of war from
others who held the essential resources—men, arms, supplies, or money to buy
them—and who were reluctant to surrender them without strong pressure or
compensation.
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Within limits set by the demands and rewards of other states, extraction and
struggle over the means of war created the central organizational structures of
states.
The organization of major social classes within a state’s territory, and their relations
to the state, significantly affected the strategies rulers employed to extract
resources, the resistance they met, the struggle that resulted, the sorts of durable
organization that extraction and struggle laid down, and therefore the efficiency of
resource extraction.
The organization of major social classes and their relations to the state varied
significantly from Europe’s coercion-intensive regions (areas of few cities and
agricultural predominance, where direct coercion played a major part in production)
to its capital-intensive regions (areas of many cities and commercial predominance,
where markets, exchange, and market-oriented production prevailed). The demands
major classes made on the state, and their influence over the state, varied
correspondingly.
The relative success of different extractive strategies, and the strategies rulers
actually applied, therefore varied significantly from coercion-intensive to capitalintensive regions.
As a consequence, the organizational forms of states followed distinctly different
trajectories in these different parts of Europe.
Which sort of state prevailed in a given era and part of Europe varied greatly. Only
late in the millennium did national states exercise clear superiority over city-states,
empires, and other common European forms of state.
Nevertheless, the increasing scale of war and the knitting together of the European
state system through commercial, military, and diplomatic interaction eventually
gave the war-making advantage to those states that could field standing armies;
states having access to a combination of large rural populations, capitalists, and
relatively commercialized economies won out. They set the terms of war, and their
form of state became the predominant one in Europe. Eventually European states
converged on that form: the national state.
In another publication Tilly makes the point that states are little more than protection rackets, like
the Mafia. Rulers or would-be rulers come in and say, “Submit to my rule, give me tribute (or taxes
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or periodic forced labor or something), and I’ll protect you from bandits and other people or armies
like me. If you don’t submit, I’ll punish you or kill you.” Historically, the central activity of states
has been war or preparation for war. Which, in a sense, includes “war” against their own
population. Even today, the coercive apparatus of the state is overwhelming, however much states
have acquired other functions like administering social welfare programs and public goods such
as education.
Another “theoretical” statement:
The story concerns capital and coercion. It recounts the ways that wielders of
coercion, who played the major part in the creation of national states, drew for their
own purposes on manipulators of capital, whose activities generated cities…
Although states strongly reflect the organization of coercion, they actually show
the effects of capital as well; as the rest of this book will demonstrate, various
combinations of capital and coercion produced very different kinds of states. Again,
cities respond especially to changes in capital, but the organization of coercion
affects their character as well; Lewis Mumford’s “baroque city” lived on capital
like its cousins, but showed a clearer imprint of princely power—in palaces, parade
grounds, and barracks—than they did. Over time, furthermore, the place of capital
in the form of states grew ever larger, while the influence of coercion (in the guise
of policing and state intervention) expanded as well.
Capital defines the realm of exploitation (relations of production and exchange produce surpluses
that capitalists capture), while coercion defines the realm of domination. “The processes that
accumulate and concentrate capital also produce cities,” where trade, warehousing, banking, and
in some respects production go on. Coercion has to do with armed force, incarceration,
expropriation, and so on. “Europe created two major overlapping groups of specialists in coercion:
soldiers and great landlords; where they merged and received ratification from states in the form
of titles and privileges they crystallized into nobilities, who in turn supplied the principal European
rulers for many centuries.” Coercion and capital can certainly merge, but, on the whole, they’re
sufficiently distinct that they can be analyzed separately.
“Efforts to subordinate neighbors and fight off more distant rivals create state structures in the
form not only of armies but also of civilian staffs that gather the means to sustain armies and that
organize the ruler’s day-to-day control over the rest of the civilian population.” Of course, as a
state builds up its extractive and administrative infrastructure, different groups acquire power and
interests of their own, and they may limit the character and intensity of warfare the state can carry
on. Over time, rulers have to bargain with their subjects to get the resources they need for warmaking and control of the subject population, and the latter can thus acquire greater rights and
powers. This process grew more pronounced especially after the long centuries of “indirect rule,”
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in which states (empires, city-states with sway over large hinterlands, etc.) generally had to rely
on cooperation from and bargaining with local authorities who paid tribute to the “state.” It wasn’t
until the era of the French Revolution that most European states really began to institute direct rule
from top to bottom, a type of rule that necessitated much greater financing and larger
administrative apparatuses.
“The transition to direct rule gave rulers access to citizens and the resources they controlled
through household taxation, mass conscription, censuses, police systems, and many other
invasions of small-scale social life. But it did so at the cost of widespread resistance, extensive
bargaining, and the creation of rights and perquisites for citizens [such as the beginnings of
representative democracy]. Both the penetration and the bargaining laid down new state structures,
inflating the government’s budgets, personnel, and organizational diagrams. The omnivorous state
of our own time took shape.”
The book is dense with empirical detail that isn’t easy to summarize, but now and then there are
points of general interest. Here’s an interesting paragraph, for example, even more interesting if
you know how important the French intendants were to the rise of absolutism and a relatively
centralized state structure:
No one designed the principal components of national states—treasuries, courts,
central administrations, and so on. They usually formed as more or less inadvertent
by-products of efforts to carry out more immediate tasks, especially the creation
and support of armed force. When the French crown, greatly expanding its
involvement in European wars during the 1630s, stretched its credit to the point of
bankruptcy, the local authorities and officeholders on whom the king’s ministers
ordinarily relied for the collection of revenues ceased cooperating. At that point
chief minister Richelieu, in desperation, began sending out his own agents to coerce
or bypass local authorities. Those emissaries were the royal intendants, who became
the mainstays of state authority in French regions under Colbert and Louis XIV.
Only in faulty retrospect do we imagine the intendants as deliberately designed
instruments of Absolutism.
Most far-reaching innovations like this emerged as ad hoc means to achieve immediate goals.
Meanwhile, through all these processes of extracting resources from populations, a society’s class
structure significantly affected the state’s organization, “and variations in class structure from one
part of Europe to another produced systematic geographic differences in the character of states.
Not only the ruling classes, but all classes whose resources and activities affected preparation for
war, left their imprint on European states.”
Different paths to state formation
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Tilly argues that there were, broadly speaking, three major paths to state formation: coercionintensive, capital-intensive, and capitalized coercion. The differences resulted from rulers having
to adapt to very different environments and class structures. Here’s another long quotation from
the first chapter:
In the coercion-intensive mode, rulers squeezed the means of war from their own
populations and others they conquered, building massive structures of extraction in
the process. Brandenburg and Russia—especially in their phases as tribute-taking
empires—illustrate the coercion-intensive mode. At the very extreme of the mode,
however, armed landlords wielded so much power that no one of them could
establish durable control over the rest; for several centuries, the Polish and
Hungarian nobilities actually elected their own kings, and struck them down when
they strove too hard for supreme power.
In the capital-intensive mode, rulers relied on compacts with capitalists—whose
interests they served with care—to rent or purchase military force, and thereby
warred without building vast permanent state structures. City-states, city-empires,
urban federations, and other forms of fragmented sovereignty commonly fall into
this path of change. Genoa, Dubrovnik, the Dutch Republic, and, for a time,
Catalonia, exemplify the capital-intensive mode. As the history of the Dutch
Republic illustrates, at the extreme this mode produced federations of largely
autonomous city-states, and constant negotiation among them over state policy.
In the intermediate capitalized coercion mode, rulers did some of each, but spent
more of their effort than did their capital-intensive neighbors on incorporating
capitalists and sources of capital directly into the structures of their states. Holders
of capital and coercion interacted on terms of relative equality. France and England
eventually followed the capitalized coercion mode, which produced full-fledged
national states earlier than the coercion-intensive and capital-intensive modes did.
Driven by the pressures of international competition (especially by war and
preparation for war) all three paths eventually converged on concentrations of
capital and of coercion out of all proportion to those that prevailed in AD 990. From
the seventeenth century onward the capitalized coercion form proved more
effective in war, and therefore provided a compelling model for states that had
originated in other combinations of coercion and capital. From the nineteenth
century to the recent past, furthermore, all European states involved themselves
much more heavily than before in building social infrastructure, in providing
services, in regulating economic activity, in controlling population movements, and
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in assuring citizens’ welfare; all these activities began as byproducts of rulers’
efforts to acquire revenues and compliance from their subject populations, but took
on lives and rationales of their own…
I’m starting to think my “summary” of the book will consist almost entirely of lengthy excerpts. I
doubt these will be of much interest to anyone.
Over Europe as a whole, alterations in state control of capital and of coercion
between AD 900 and the present have followed two parallel arcs. At first, during
the age of patrimonialism, European monarchs generally extracted what capital
they needed as tribute or rent from lands and populations that lay under their
immediate control—often within stringent contractual limits on the amounts they
could demand. In the time of brokerage (especially between 1400 and 1700 or so),
they relied heavily on formally independent capitalists for loans, for management
of revenue-producing enterprises, and for collection of taxes. By the eighteenth
century, however, the time of nationalization had come; many sovereigns were
incorporating the fiscal apparatus directly into the state structure, and drastically
curtailing the involvement of independent contractors. The last century or so, the
age of specialization, has brought a sharper separation of fiscal from military
organization and an increasing involvement of states in the oversight of fixed
capital.
On the side of coercion, a similar evolution took place. During the period of
patrimonialism, monarchs drew armed force from retainers, vassals, and militias
who owed them personal service—but again within significant contractual limits.
In the age of brokerage (again especially between 1400 and 1700) they turned
increasingly to mercenary forces supplied to them by contractors who retained
considerable freedom of action. Next, during nationalization, sovereigns absorbed
armies and navies directly into the state's administrative structure, eventually
turning away from foreign mercenaries and hiring or conscripting the bulk of their
troops from their own citizenries. Since the mid-nineteenth century, in a phase of
specialization, European states have consolidated the system of citizen militaries
backed by large civilian bureaucracies, and split off police forces specialized in the
use of coercion outside of war.
By the nineteenth century, most European states had internalized both armed forces
and fiscal mechanisms; they thus reduced the governmental roles of tax farmers,
military contractors, and other independent middlemen. Their rulers then continued
to bargain with capitalists and other classes for credit, revenues, manpower, and the
necessities of war. Bargaining, in its turn, created numerous new claims on the
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state: pensions, payments to the poor, public education, city planning, and much
more. In the process, states changed from magnified war machines into multiplepurpose organizations. Their efforts to control coercion and capital continued, but
in the company of a wide variety of regulatory, compensatory, distributive, and
protective activities.
I’m not summarizing all the empirical details of the book, since I think the book’s main interest is
in its general theses. At the end of the second chapter Tilly states several of these, in fact partially
answering the big question he started with (italicized near the beginning of this blog post). He’s
been describing the great variations over the millennium in states’ access to capital, their proximity
to important cities, etc. So then he says, “There are three answers [to the question about the great
variation of European states over the last millennium and their eventual convergence on the
national state]: the relative availability of concentrated capital and concentrated means of coercion
in different regions and periods significantly affected the organizational consequences of making
war; until recently only those states survived that held their own in war with other states; and
finally, over the long run the changing character of war gave the military advantage to states that
could draw large, durable military forces from their own populations, which were increasingly
national states.” So, much of it comes down to the imperatives of war, and the socioeconomic
environments in which states had to make war. Needless to say, this analysis is rather simplified.
He also gives broad answers to some smaller questions. For example:
Why, despite obvious interests to the contrary, did rulers frequently accept the
establishment of institutions representing the major classes within their
jurisdictions? In fact, rulers attempted to avoid the establishment of institutions
representing groups outside their own class, and sometimes succeeded for
considerable periods. In the long term, however, those institutions were the price
and outcome of bargaining with different members of the subject population for the
wherewithal of state activity, especially the means of war. Kings of England did
not want a Parliament to form and assume ever-greater power; they conceded to
barons [like with the Magna Carta of 1215], and then to clergy, gentry, and
bourgeois, in the course of persuading them to raise the money for warfare.
Incidentally, this trend continued into the twentieth century. As the research of Göran Therborn,
for instance, has shown, the culminating, universal expansions of the franchise in most Western
countries were achieved in the twentieth century in the context of the First and Second World
Wars. Admittedly, it wasn’t only because of nations’ need to finance the wars; it was also because
of the sheer scale of mass mobilization, and the unleashing of popular democratic energies
(especially during and after World War II).
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A couple more questions and answers:
Why did city-states, city-empires, federations, and religious organizations lose
their importance as prevailing kinds of state in Europe? Two things happened.
First, commercialization and capital accumulation in the larger states reduced the
advantage enjoyed by small mercantile states [like in Italy], which had previously
been able to borrow extensively, tax efficiently, and rely on their own seapower to
hold off large landbound states. Second, war eventually changed in a direction that
made their small scale and fragmented sovereignty a clear disadvantage, and they
lost to large states. Florentine and Milanese republics crumbled under the weight
of the fifteenth and sixteenth century’s military requirements…
Why did war shift from conquest for tribute and struggle among armed tributetakers to sustained battles among massed armies and navies? For essentially the
same reasons: with the organizational and technical innovations in warfare of the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, states with access to large numbers of men and
volumes of capital gained a clear advantage, and either drove back the tribute-takers
or forced them into patterns of extraction that built a more durable state structure.
During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the Russian state made the transition
as Ivan III and Ivan IV used awards of land to tie bureaucrats and soldiers to longterm service of the state. During the eighteenth century, the ability of populous
states such as Great Britain and France to draw mass armies from their own citizens
gave them the means to overpower small states.
How war made states, and vice versa
In the third chapter he gets into more detail about the subject of war and state formation. Since the
seventeenth century, European states began to disarm their populations, including rival
powerholders like great landowners. Disarmament took place in many small steps, such as seizures
of weapons at the end of rebellions, prohibitions of duels, introduction of licensing for private
arms, and so on. “In England, the Tudors suppressed private armies, reduced the princely power
of great lords along the Scottish border, contained aristocratic violence, and eliminated the fortresscastles that once announced the power and autonomy of the great English magnates. Louis XIII,
the seventeenth-century monarch who with the aid of Richelieu and Mazarin rebuilt the armed
force of the French state, probably tore down more fortresses than he constructed. But he built at
the frontiers, and destroyed in the interior. In subduing magnates and cities that resisted his rule,
he commonly demolished their fortifications, reduced their rights to bear arms, and thereby
decreased the odds of any serious future rebellion.”
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In urban areas, the installation of routine policing played a part in civilian disarmament, while in
regions dominated by powerful landlords it was necessary to dismantle private armies and
eliminate walled and moated castles. Rulers’ simultaneous creation of armed force generated
durable state structures not only by making armies significant organizations within the state but
also by bringing forth treasuries, supply services, mechanisms for conscriptions, tax bureaus, etc.
In the late seventeenth century, for instance, England’s governments built royal shipyards into the
country’s largest concentrated industry. (One of the innumerable examples in recent centuries of
governments, not “the free market,” being responsible for industrial development.)
Over the last millennium, war has been the dominant activity of European states. Even state
finances reflect that fact. “From the late seventeenth century onward, budgets, debts, and taxes
arose to the rhythm of war.” In France, borrowing for eighteenth-century wars overwhelmed the
state, ruined its credit, and led to the calling of the Estates-General in 1789 that began the French
Revolution. Britain, too, acquired huge state debts, which signified the expansion of bureaucratic
state capacity largely under the impetus of war. (Of course, this tendency continued into the
twentieth century, as the two world wars, for example—especially the second—stimulated gigantic
growth of governments. In the U.S., the New Deal had already enormously expanded state
capacity, but the war increased the federal budget tenfold and was fantastic for economic growth.
War is great business! And it has been for well over five hundred years, since the long era of
mercenary forces crisscrossing Europe.1)
In fact, major war efforts usually produced a permanent expansion of the state apparatus. “When
Holland and Spain reached a truce in their draining war over Dutch claims to independence in
1609, many observers on both sides expected relief from the extraordinary taxation that had beset
them during the previous decade. As it turned out, debt service, building of fortifications, and other
state activities easily absorbed the revenues freed by military demobilization. Taxes did not decline
significantly in either country.”
The struggle for maritime empire also helped shape different kinds of states, though not as much
as land warfare.
The connection between state and empire ran in both directions: the character of
the European state governed the form of its expansion outside of Europe, and the
nature of the empire significantly affected the metropole’s operation. CapitalOn mercenaries: “The peculiarity of the system became clear early on, when in 1515 ‘two Swiss armies,
one in the service of the French king and one in the service of an Italian baron, met on opposing sides in a
battle at Marignano in northern Italy and almost completely annihilated each other.’ The event helped
persuade the Swiss to avoid wars of their own, but it did not keep them from shipping mercenaries to other
people’s battles.” The dominance of mercenary armies didn’t completely end until the wars of the French
Revolution and the Napoleonic Empire, which were fought by ordinary French citizens.
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intensive states such as Venice and the Dutch Republic reached out chiefly by the
ruthless pursuit of trading monopolies, but invested little effort in military conquest
and colonization. Coercion-intensive states such as the Norse and the Spanish
devoted more of their energy to settlement, enslavement of the indigenous (or
imported) labor force, and exaction of tribute. The in-between states, such as Britain
and France, entered the imperial game relatively late, and excelled at it by
combining the capitalist and coercive strategies.
The capitalist strategy added relatively little bulk to the central state, especially
when conducted through essentially private organizations such as the Dutch East
India Company. These commercial megaliths, however, became political forces to
be contended with in their own right; thus privatization pushed the state toward
bargaining with its subject population, or at least with the dominant commercial
class. The strategy of conquest and settlement, which inevitably called forth durable
armies and navies, added to the central state bureaucracy, not to mention the worldwide web of officialdom it called into being. Where it brought in riches—especially
in the form of bullion, as in Spain—conquest created an alternative to domestic
taxation, and thereby shielded rulers from some of the bargaining that established
citizens’ rights and set limits on state prerogatives elsewhere. [So that’s one reason
Spain, for example, remained relatively politically backward in the following
centuries.]
It seems to me that Tilly’s distinction between capital and coercion bears on the old debates about
the nature of “Oriental despotism,” states like Russia, China, ancient Egypt, and the like. As he
says, “We might imagine a continuum from an imperial Russia in which a cumbersome state
apparatus grew up to wrest military men and resources from a huge but uncommercialized
economy to a Dutch Republic which relied heavily on navies, ran its military forces on temporary
grants from its city-dominated provinces, easily drew taxes from customs and excise, and never
created a substantial central bureaucracy.” Many of these “Oriental” states throughout history were
coercion-intensive because of their largely uncommercialized economies, and they needed
cumbersome political structures to extract taxes and other resources from a peasant social base that
didn’t have a widespread money economy.
Bargaining and direct rule
As stated earlier, all the (very brutal) processes of state formation over many centuries2
necessitated that rulers engage continually in various forms of “bargaining” with their subjects,
“From the short-run perspectives of ordinary people, what we in blithe retrospect call ‘state formation’
included the setting of ruthless tax farmers against poor peasants and artisans, the forced sale for taxes of
animals that would have paid for dowries, the imprisoning of local leaders as hostages to the local
2
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which over time gave the latter durable rights but also imposed obligations on them. “The core of
what we now call ‘citizenship,’ indeed, consists of multiple bargains hammered out by rulers and
ruled in the course of their struggles over the means of state action, especially the making of war.”
Through these processes of “struggle, negotiation, and sustained interaction with the holders of
essential resources,” states came to reflect the class structures of their subject populations.
“Bargaining” could itself be brutal, as when rulers sent in troops to crush a tax rebellion or a
capture a reluctant taxpayer, but it also took more peaceful forms: “pleading with parliaments,
buying off city officials with tax exemptions, confirming guild privileges in return for loans or
fees, regularizing the assessment and collection of taxes against the guarantee of their more willing
payment, and so on.” Means were set up by which citizens could seek redress, such as through
petition and representation in local assemblies. Later, in the last couple of centuries, workers,
bourgeois, and others took advantage of these means to press for more expanded rights such as
direct representation. Eventually states responded to the population’s demands by creating
programs like social insurance, public education, veterans’ pensions, and housing, which
cumulatively changed the character of government so that it became even more bureaucratic and
civilian.
It’s probably superfluous to note, by the way, that “bargaining” goes on up to the present and never
stops. The state always has to try to keep its citizenry—its main enemy, to quote Chomsky—
sufficiently pacified so that they won’t rebel en masse. Both repression and more constructive
kinds of bargaining are essential to this. In recent decades, the state has fused especially closely
with the most exploitative and predatory sectors of the ruling class, so the constructive forms of
bargaining have tended to wither. Which explains rising mass discontent, and in fact the slowmoving collapse of society itself.
Anyway, for most of the last millennium, microstates like city-states and petty principalities ruled
in a relatively direct way, but larger states didn’t. They had to deal with powerful intermediaries
(clergy, landlords, urban oligarchies, independent warriors) who had a lot of autonomy and could
hinder state demands that weren’t in their own interest. This reliance on indirect rule began to
change in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as “the nationalization of military power”
(shifting from the hiring of mercenaries to the recruitment of soldiers from their own populations)
occurred, to deal with the increasing scale of war and for other reasons. Having to work through
intermediaries had never been ideal: it set serious limits on the quantity of resources rulers could
extract from the economy. By the eighteenth century, “as war demanded greater resources,
community’s payment of overdue taxes, the hanging of others who dared to protest, the loosing of brutal
soldiers on a hapless civilian population, the conscription of young men who were their parents’ main hope
for comfort in old age, the forced purchase of tainted salt, the elevation of already arrogant local property
holders into officers of the state, and the imposition of religious conformity in the name of public order and
morality.”
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emphatically including manpower, and as the threat of conquest by the largest states grew more
serious, ever more rulers bypassed, suppressed, or co-opted old intermediaries and reached directly
into communities and households to seize the wherewithal of war. Thus national standing armies,
national states, and direct rule caused each other.”
The French Revolution and Napoleonic Empire greatly accelerated the shift to direct rule, both
because other states emulated the French model of centralized government and because France
imposed that model wherever it conquered. Tilly’s discussion of the Revolution is very good, if
necessarily simplified, and worth quoting at obnoxious length (among other reasons because it
gives the lie to revisionist historians who have resisted the traditional Marxist description of the
event as a “bourgeois revolution”):
The lawyers, officials, and other bourgeois who seized the state apparatus in 178990 rapidly displaced the old intermediaries: landlords, seigneurial officials, venal
officeholders, clergy, and sometimes municipal oligarchies as well. “[l]t was not a
rural class of English-style gentlemen,” declares Lynn Hunt, “who gained political
prominence on either the national or the regional level, but rather thousands of city
professionals who seized the opportunity to develop political careers.” At a local
level, the so-called Municipal Revolution widely transferred power to enemies of
the old rulers; patriot coalitions based in militias, clubs, and revolutionary
committees and linked to Parisian activists ousted the old municipalities. Even
where the old powerholders managed to survive the Revolution’s early turmoil,
relations between each locality and the national capital altered abruptly. Village
“republics” of the Alps, for example, found their ancient liberties—including
ostensibly free consent to taxes—crumbling as outsiders clamped them into the new
administrative machine. Then Parisian revolutionaries faced the problem of
governing without intermediaries; they experimented with the committees and
militias that had appeared in the mobilization of 1789, but found them hard to
control from the center. More or less simultaneously they recast the French map
into a nested system of departments, districts, cantons, and communes, while
sending out représentants en mission to forward revolutionary reorganization. They
installed direct rule.
…By and large, the Federalist movement, with its protests against Jacobin
centralism and its demands for regional autonomy, took root in cities whose
commercial positions greatly outpaced their rank [in the new administrative
system]. In dealing with these alternative obstacles to direct rule, Parisian
revolutionaries improvised three parallel, and sometimes conflicting, systems of
rule: the committees and militias; a geographically-defined hierarchy of elected
officials and representatives; and roving commissioners from the central
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government. To collect information and gain support, all three relied extensively
on the existing personal networks of lawyers, professionals, and merchants.
As the system began to work, revolutionary leaders strove to routinize their control
and contain independent action by local enthusiasts, who often resisted. Using both
co-optation and repression, they gradually squeezed out the committees and
militias. Mobilization for war put great pressure on the system, incited new
resistance, and increased the national leaders’ incentives for a tight system of
control. Starting in 1792, the central administration (which until then had continued
in a form greatly resembling that of the Old Regime) underwent its own revolution:
the staff expanded enormously, and a genuine hierarchical bureaucracy took shape.
In the process, revolutionaries installed one of the first systems of direct rule ever
to take shape in a large state.
That shift entailed changes in systems of taxation, justice, public works, and much
more. Consider policing. Outside of the Paris region, France’s Old Regime state
had almost no specialized police of its own… The revolutionaries changed things.
With respect to ordinary people, they moved from reactive to proactive policing
and information-gathering: instead of simply waiting until a rebellion or collective
violation of the law occurred, and then retaliating ferociously but selectively, they
began to station agents whose job was to anticipate and prevent threatening popular
collective action. During the Revolution’s early years, Old Regime police forces
generally dissolved as popular committees, national guards, and revolutionary
tribunals took over their day-to-day activities. But with the Directory [1795-99] the
state concentrated surveillance and apprehension in a single centralized
organization…
Resistance and counter-revolutionary action followed directly from the process by
which the new state established direct rule. Remember how much change the
revolutionaries introduced in a very short time. They eliminated all previous
territorial jurisdictions, consolidated many old parishes into larger communes,
abolished the tithe and feudal dues, dissolved corporations and their privileges,
constructed a top-to-bottom administrative and electoral system, imposed expanded
and standardized taxes through that system, seized the properties of emigrant nobles
and of the church, disbanded monastic orders, subjected clergy to the state and
imposed upon them an oath to defend the new state church, conscripted young men
at an unprecedented rate, and displaced both nobles and priests from the automatic
exercise of local leadership. All this occurred between 1789 and 1793… What is
more, the new state hierarchy consisted largely of lawyers, physicians, notaries,
merchants, and other bourgeois…
15
[Counterrevolutionary resistance in the west of France] grew directly from the
efforts of revolutionary officials to install a particular kind of direct rule in the
region: a rule that practically eliminated nobles and priests from their positions as
partly autonomous intermediaries, that brought the state’s demands for taxes,
manpower, and deference to the level of individual communities, neighborhoods,
and households, that gave the region’s bourgeois political power they had never
before wielded. In seeking to extend the state’s rule to every locality, and to
dislodge all enemies of that rule, French revolutionaries started a process that did
not cease for twenty-five years. In some ways, it has not yet ceased today… 3
As he sums up, “the revolutionary transition from indirect to direct rule embodied a bourgeois
revolution and engendered a series of anti-bourgeois counter-revolutions.” But the changes, even
across Europe, couldn’t be wholly reversed. And they led to further changes, such as the rise of
nationalism. “Direct rule and mass national politics grew up together, and reinforced each other
mightily.” Over the course of the nineteenth century, states imposed national languages—for ease
of communication and administration—created national education systems, controlled movement
across frontiers, and generally tried to homogenize conditions within their borders. Which led to
rebellious nationalisms among minorities.
Thus, in the “dialectical” logic Marxists love to invoke, as states built up their capacity, they found
they had to deal with new, unanticipated burdens. For instance, new organizations to make war or
draw the requisites of war from subjects—including customs services, treasuries, and regional
administrations—developed their own interests. With regard to Brandenburg-Prussia, which
became famously bureaucratic by the eighteenth century (leading to the infamously bureaucratic
structures of Germany later on), Tilly quotes another historian: “the bureaucracy acquired an esprit
de corps and developed into a force formidable enough to recast the system of government in its
own image. It restrained the autocratic authority of the monarch. It ceased to be responsible to the
dynastic interest. It captured control of the central administration and of public policy.” This is just
one example of a much broader phenomenon.
Another ironic result of direct rule and the expansion of government capacity was the
civilianization of government. The state had always been an essentially military institution, but in
the process of creating structures to support an expanded military force, more and more resources
3
For a very brief summary of the contours of the French Revolution, see Vivek Chibber, Postcolonial
Theory and the Specter of Capital, chapter 3. He notes that the large majority of representatives of the Third
Estate in 1789 weren’t bourgeois in the sense of being actual capitalists (merchants, etc.), and they weren’t
even particularly revolutionary. In the beginning, they only wanted to create a constitutional monarchy and
eliminate the privileges of the nobility. It required continual interventions by the more radical populace, in
the succeeding years, to force the leaders to become truly revolutionary. –Nevertheless, in its outcomes and
its guiding values, I’d say the epochal event certainly qualifies as a “bourgeois revolution.”
16
were devoted to non-military purposes like a larger civilian bureaucracy and growing the civilian
economy (which in the later nineteenth century far outstripped military expansion, thus further
reducing the social and political dominance of the military). By the late twentieth century, in nearly
all Western countries very small proportions of the population were under arms, small proportions
of state budgets were devoted to the military, and small percentages of national income were spent
on soldiers and weapons.
Lineages of the national state, and thoughts on the Third World
In the fifth chapter, Tilly goes into greater detail about the three paths to state formation mentioned
above. He starts with the coercion-intensive one, focusing on Russia and Eastern Europe. It’s a
pretty impressive capsule history he provides, from AD 1000 to the nineteenth century, but here’s
the main point:
In broadly similar ways, Russian, Polish, Hungarian, Serbian, and Brandenburger
states formed on the basis of strong alliances between war-making princes and
armed landlords, large concessions of governmental power to nobles and gentry,
joint exploitation of the peasantry, and restricted scope for merchant capital.
Repeatedly, leaders of conquering forces who lacked capital offered their followers
booty and land, only to face the problem of containing the great warrior-landlords
they thereby created…
Although the relative weight of crown and nobility (and therefore the extent to
which warfare created durable state structure) varied significantly from state to
state, all these states stood out from their European neighbors by heavy reliance on
brute coercion. When, in the sixteenth century, large volumes of eastern European
grain began to flow westward, the existing structure of control permitted great
landlords to profit directly from those shipments; they used state power to contain
merchants and coerce peasant producers, building a new serfdom in the process
[even as the old serfdom in the west was ending]. In that balance of power, even
extensive commercialization did not build cities, an independent capitalist class, or
a state more greatly resembling those of urban Europe.
So, because there were so few cities and such little concentrated capital, it was, typically, necessary
to create enormous coercive apparatuses to squeeze and control the peasantry (and also to fight
and control the nobility). The main difference is that in some of these states, like Russia, one armed
landlord early on established supremacy over his rivals, while in others, like Poland, the multitude
of armed landlords were able to prevent any one of their own from achieving such supremacy.
(Which led to a weaker Polish state and its dismemberment in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries.)
17
Let’s skip the history of capital-intensive states like Venice and go straight to the capitalizedcoercive Britain. I’ll revert to quoting, once again. Not everyone knows much about the Magna
Carta—which, among other things (such as protecting peasants’ right to the commons), helped set
a precedent for a degree of political representation—so here’s something about that:
In the process of making war and intervening in dynastic rivalries, the barons on
whom English kings relied for their wars acquired enough power to fight the king
as well as each other, exacting chartered concessions—most dramatically in Magna
Carta—from the monarch. The Great Charter of 1215 committed the king to cease
squeezing feudal obligations for the wherewithal to conduct wars, to stop hiring
mercenaries when barons would not fight, and to impose the major taxes only with
the consent of the great council, representative of the magnates. The council started
to wield durable power, reinforced especially by its place in the approval of new
taxation. Later kings confirmed the charter repeatedly. Nevertheless, the continuing
efforts of English monarchs to create armed force produced a durable central
structure: royal treasury, courts, and domain.
The Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453), a result of English kings’ efforts to hold onto their French
possessions, required such exorbitant finances that Parliament was able to consolidate its position.
Even for more than a century afterwards, wars with France and Scotland involved Parliament in
royal fundraising and established its right to consent to taxation. The House of Commons,
meanwhile, “came increasingly to represent a tight alliance of merchants and cash-cropping
landowners” who, aided by legally sanctioned enclosures of open fields and common lands, grew
heavily involved in the marketing of grain and wool.
The Stuart kings of the seventeenth century made the mistake of disrespecting the prerogatives of
this rising capitalist class (the merchants and landowners represented in the House of Commons)
in their struggles for money to fund yet more wars. The agrarian and mercantile bourgeoisie didn’t
look fondly on kings’ attempts to tax without Parliament, or, more generally, to construct an
absolutist state in which the bourgeoisie was very definitely politically subordinate. Charles I,
especially, let power go to his head, and as a result he lost it (his head). In the 1630s his credit with
financiers failed, “and his demands for loans and taxes only sharpened conflict with Parliament
and its financiers. By 1640 he was seizing the gold and silver left in the Tower of London for
safekeeping, and bargaining with the goldsmiths and merchants who owned it for a loan secured
by customs revenues. Charles’ attempt to raise and control an army to put down rebellion in Ireland
and resistance in Scotland did him in.” 4
4
Again, for a short summary of the main issues involved in the English Civil War, see Postcolonial Theory
and the Specter of Capital, chapter 3.
18
After the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and the renewal of British military involvement on the
continent, “Britain started to form a substantial standing army, an effective central bureaucracy
took shape, and the tax-granting House of Commons gained power vis-à-vis the king and his
ministers.” Basically, a bourgeois revolution had occurred over a long period, from the midsixteenth century (when enclosures began, Henry VIII suppressed the Catholic Church and seized
its revenues while expropriating monasteries, and England commercialized at the same time as
much of its peasantry was proletarianized) to the late seventeenth century. Absolutism had been
defeated, a capitalist—though not yet industrial capitalist—economy had spread, and various types
of capitalist class had secured political power. In the next two centuries, political centralization
and direct rule deepened, incrementally, as capitalism advanced and matured.
Moving ahead to the seventh and last chapter, Tilly wonders why Third World governments tend
to be quite different from those of the West, and not in good ways. In particular, why is the place
of the military so different, so overwhelming? “On the whole, [militaries in the Third World]
intervene in domestic political life far more directly and frequently, and with more obviously
damaging consequences for rights of citizens. Why should that be?” It’s certainly an important
question. There are many answers to it, of course, but Tilly focuses on those his earlier analysis
bears on. Here’s a useful review of that analysis:
Think back to the central paradox of European state formation: that the pursuit of
war and military capacity, after having created national states as a sort of
byproduct, led to a civilianization of government and domestic politics. That
happened, I have argued, for five main reasons: because the effort to build and
sustain military forces led agents of states to build bulky extractive apparatuses
staffed by civilians, and those extractive apparatuses came to contain and constrain
the military forces; because agents of states bargained with civilian groups that
controlled the resources required for effective war-making, and in bargaining gave
the civilian groups enforceable claims on the state that further constrained the
military; because the expansion of state capacity in wartime gave those states that
had not suffered great losses in war expanded capacity at the ends of wars, and
agents of those states took advantage of the situation by taking on new activities,
or continuing activities they had started as emergency measures; because
participants in the war effort, including military personnel, acquired claims on the
state that they deferred during the war in response to repression or mutual consent
but which they reactivated at demobilization; and finally because wartime
borrowing led to great increases in national debts, which in turn generated service
bureaucracies and encouraged greater state intervention in national economies.
Given this analysis, one possibility is obvious: since Third World states have largely acquired and
built up their militaries from abroad, through military aid from great powers, it hasn’t been
19
necessary to undergo a long process of “bargaining” with the civilian population. There hasn’t had
to be “the same internal forging of mutual constraints between rulers and ruled,” as Tilly says in
the article linked to earlier. Nor have several other of the above conditions applied.
When you have the U.S and other powers giving extreme support to military organizations in the
Third World or the Global South, it isn’t surprising that such organizations become dominant over
civilian competitors. Or that they use their dominance to seize power repeatedly, whenever the
civilian government is failing or doing something they don’t like. And the government will, indeed,
often fail or become dysfunctional in an international context of subordination to the interests of
the West (as in the frequent inability to have an independent tariff policy to protect domestic
industry, or the necessity to apply for loans from an IMF that attaches such onerous conditions to
the loans that society partially breaks down and the population rebels). Since there isn’t much need
to protect borders anymore or, usually, to engage in external wars, armies develop great power
internally that they may use to influence domestic politics.
In any case, one thing does come out very clearly from the book: states are in the business of
coercing, and are formed in profoundly morally illegitimate ways. Primarily through war: war
against internal and external enemies. In this respect, Tillyism is quite friendly to anarchism and
the left. The real question, especially in our dangerous era today, is how to get states away from
the business of making war. Presumably the only way to do that is through mass popular
movements to pressure leaders and to elect leftists to political office.