“World history” is a vigorous new disciplinary perspective. It has emerged in the last decade or so as economic, postcolonial, and environmental historians bring their newfound willingness to study power and conflict into the global arena—not least in exploring the relationships between population change and economic growth and development. Models of demographic transition have typically assumed that there is a reciprocally beneficial relationship between aggregate GDP growth and forms of human and social development associated with desirable mortality and fertility reductions for the world's populations. World history offers a different, intrinsically conflict-ridden and violent account of economic change. Empire of Cotton is an impressive illustration of the genre, offering a new account of economic history during the last several centuries for students of population and development to ponder. It is a challenging general interpretation of the growth of capitalism and its effects on the populations that were increasingly drawn into the world's commercial economy. Beckert's underlying story is of how populations became commodified as labor. The focus is on cotton, the single product that was first and most intimately involved with the global transformative process that we call industrialization. For this paradigm case, Beckert documents just how closely capitalists, along with nation states and their governments and officials, have joined together for almost half a millennium in a truly global, but highly self-serving and divisive, pursuit of wealth and power. This was true not only of Britain's pioneering industrialization nor only of cotton manufacturing, but also, Beckert argues, of all other successfully developing economies: “the capacity of states to foster a domestic cotton industry turns out to be the key division between places that industrialised and those that did not” (pp. 155–6). The central player for Beckert is the state rather than private-sector actors: he sees the public/private divide, beloved of free-market proponents, as of little practical value for a realistic understanding of how economic growth actually occurs. Beckert hammers home the inconvenient truth that capitalist “free trade”—according to its own mythology a global nurturer of international peace through the civilizing arts of commerce—has achieved most of its productivity feats, and extracted much of its profits, through state-enforced coercion of its workers. He argues that the crucial precursor to the emergence of nineteenth-century industrial capitalism was three centuries of world-wide “war capitalism,” defined by “slavery, the expropriation of indigenous peoples, imperial expansion, armed trade, and the assertion of sovereignty over people and land by entrepreneurs” (p. xv). Rival, aggressive European states, each uniting the financial power of merchant capital and the military power and legitimacy of the nation state, engaged in almost continual conflict to hold and exploit global production industries. The emergence of modern industrial capitalism, from this perspective, was rooted as much in violent conquest as in constitutional, institutional, and technical innovation. (So much for grand explanations for Europe's “great divergence”—from the East, and from eighteenth-century China in particular—which previous historians have championed, such as Protestantism or England's constitutional and legal institutions.) Although gold, silver, spices, timbers, sugar, tobacco, and many other commodities were involved in all this, Beckert is surely correct that cotton—“white gold”—was the most valuable. Cotton's production as a cultivated raw material and its processing into a diversity of textile products each required the management of large amounts of distinctive forms of labor. The rise of the cotton industry produced an explosion of both slavery and wage labor, as well as an attendant host of accountants and managers and, above all, a trans-oceanic neural network of merchants, agents, and creditors. By 1800 the central brain of this financial information system was located in Liverpool, home of the world's largest cotton importers and with its own resident American Chamber of Commerce. The global scale of the industry expanded over the ensuing century to such an extent that by 1900 some 1.5 percent of the entire world's population was involved in the cotton industry, mostly of course as planters, pickers, and factory hands (pp. xviii–xix). For the economist Douglass North, the origins of industrial capitalism were to be found in the respect for property and the rule of law in the early modern Low Countries and in Britain, seen as key institutions facilitating growth of factor markets. Beckert's thesis is that war capitalism divided the world into a European civilized “inside,” where property rights and the rule of law were increasingly state-enforced, and a much more extensive global “outside,” a necessary obverse where, contrastingly, violent expropriation of labor and land, slavery, and suppression, not civil law, were the rule. In the global “outside,” population growth, much of it through migration, was promoted but highly selectively; mortality was high and health conditions often appalling. Beckert begins his narrative by reflecting on the global antiquity of cotton manufacture. Archaeological evidence points to perhaps 4,000 years of cotton production in South America, predating cloth manufacture in Egypt, China, or India. Although the conquistadores were disappointed that El Dorado did not yield as much gold as they lusted for, it is recorded that they marveled at the quantity, the colors, and the fine quality of cotton textiles they found in Peru. By the start of the sixteenth century, however, it was India that was the globally dominant producer of cotton cloth, with Gujarati merchants the principal traders. An Ottoman official observed in 1647 that “the world's wealth accumulates in India” (p. 18). Vasco da Gama's arrival in 1497 in the port of Calicut (today Kozhikode in Kerala) opened a sea route for European access to Indian producers via the Cape of Good Hope. Over the following centuries this route gradually enabled European trading companies to circumvent the Indian and Arab middlemen of the overland trade to Europe, a vital step in the ultimately entirely successful European effort to wrest control of India's textile wealth. Portuguese, Danish, Dutch, British, and belatedly French trading companies all tried their luck, but it was the armed merchants of the British East India Company who ended up dominant in the Indian textiles trade, along the way suppressing the local traders. These Indian calicoes and other cloths, profitably sold in Europe, also became an integral part of another, more violent trade, bringing the populations of West Africa into the story of world development. African chiefs consumed large quantities of Indian cloth, in return providing the traders with slaves to work the plantations of the New World, whose sugar and tobacco then returned to Europe: in effect, the cotton trade sustained slavery in other industries, too. European commercial ambitions did not stop simply at buying and trading in manufactures from the East; Europe also wanted to make them. In Britain, with the rule of law established and the monarchy tamed, employers and merchants found Parliament to be an increasingly valuable resource in pursuing their advantage. From 1685 onward a sequence of protectionist laws were passed (as also in Venice, Prussia, and other European states), attempting to stimulate domestic manufacture of cotton cloth. These early efforts were massively augmented in the next century with a series of celebrated labor-saving innovations, culminating in 1779 with Crompton's mule and, from 1795, with the application of steam power. Beckert notes that between 1780 and 1800 output of cotton textiles in Britain grew on average by more than 10 percent a year. This rapid growth continued in subsequent decades so that by the 1830s even Indians themselves were using British machino-factured yarn and cloth: “the world's cotton industry had been turned on its head” (p. 67). Meanwhile, the relentless upsurge in British cotton manufacture stimulated landowners in the New World to turn their slaves to the profitable cultivation of raw cotton. Lancashire's steam and machine-driven power produced cheaper cloth than ever before, creating an insatiable demand for raw cotton. By 1850, 67 percent of American cotton grew on land that had not even been part of the United States in 1800, a result principally of the 1803 Louisiana Purchase from France. This transaction epitomizes Beckert's thesis that global cotton was propelled by British merchants and the British state in league together to promote the wealth of the former and the power of the latter, with the world as the stage and source of the spoils. The Louisiana Purchase was negotiated for £1 million by the British banker and cotton merchant Thomas Baring, with express approval from the British government. This radical expansion of the new American republic, with which Britain had so recently been at war, was blessed by the British Prime Minister, Henry Addington, on the strategic grounds that it would provide “an additional means for vent of our manufacturers in preference to France” (p. 107). Louisiana promised vast new land for the production of raw cotton to feed Manchester's mills. Banishment of the North American indigenes and massive territorial expansion in the use of slavery, the practice that the British state would itself prohibit just four years later, would inevitably follow, a fact clearly understood by both Baring and Addington. American independence meant the British could morally have their abolitionist cake while also eating it in the form of cheap cotton. In 1807 Britain's Parliament resolved to use the country's powerful navy to attempt to enforce a global prohibition on the slave trade, leaving untouched the trade in slave-picked cotton. Beckert notes that “The disjunction of political from economic spaces [was] crucial for the world's most dynamic industry.” In the US, cotton-growing slave-owners could rely on government support for their interests in a way that had become impossible for slaveholders within the British Empire (pp. 112–3). Echoes of such a disjunction can be found today in citizens of the West benefiting from high levels of labor and environmental protection while enjoying cheap consumer goods made in jurisdictions with no such costly protections. In Uzbekistan, for example, currently the fourth largest cotton exporter to the world's markets, it is well known that raw cotton is produced under conditions of state-sanctioned forced labor. In conventional development thinking, all populations experience development through a rising tide of world trade; closer scrutiny of capitalism's ongoing history shows that there are powerful forces subverting the theory. The conversion of the wealth produced from internationally traded commodities into human development benefiting producer populations is a politically contingent matter, dependent on the relative bargaining power of the actors involved. Low labor standards and outright coercion, of course, were not lacking in nineteenth-century Europe, witnessed in the factory employment of children or the exposure of all workers to the fiber-filled factory atmospheres of Manchester, Mulhouse, Barcelona, Chemnitz, or Lodz. In the case of Lancashire, though labor was no longer subject to feudal servitude, options for the property-less poor were increasingly restricted. First, access to the commons disappeared, then their spinning wheels and handlooms were rendered obsolete by patented inventions and factory manufacture. It took a generation or more, along with the government's deterrent workhouses erected under the New Poor Law of 1834, for many proud plebeian men to accept the discipline of machine-paced factory work in return for a weekly wage from an employer. Consequently, the textile workforce was disproportionately composed of single women (unthinkable in China, as historian Kenneth Pomeranz has noted, which was promptly left behind in the great divergence (p. 191)). Children were the other main component of the workforce in the early mills. They were often orphans supplied by the Poor Law authorities to prosperous textile employers. Unlike the predictions of demographic transition theory, while GDP expanded impressively, neither mortality nor fertility fell for many decades, even among the “free” population of England. The single most important event in Beckert's new interpretation of the global history of capitalism viewed through the lens of cotton is the American Civil War. Beckert argues that this fratricidal conflict was perceived by Europe's statesmen of the time as a fundamental threat to the supply of the raw material for the world's most valuable industry. The conflict enforced the appreciation that, with so many million livelihoods now directly dependent on this manufacturing sector, national governments must take strategic responsibility for the future raw cotton supply. This realization kick-started Europe's imperial regimes into an urgent hunt for secure alternative cotton suppliers, which in effect became the origin of European mega-projects of rival, colonial “development” in their various possessions around the world. The projects involved railway building, draining and irrigating potential cropland, and making other investments in rural colonies on a scale not previously contemplated. Beckert's thesis is that panic reaction to the American Civil War changed the course of global capitalist and imperial history as Europe's financiers and governments embarked on ambitious early development projects and sought to expand legal control and commercial exploitation over their colonial territories. Thus, the global story of population and development planning does not commence with post-1945 development economists and transition theorists, nor even with (another favored starting point) Governor Guggisberg's plans for the Gold Coast in the 1920s, but fully half a century earlier and all around the globe. This was development and population management on a grand scale. Funds were rapidly forthcoming from European banks to fund these large projects. By 1864, 40 percent of all fertile land in Lower Egypt had been converted to cotton (p. 256), while in India £7m was allocated for infrastructure in that year alone. Ideological cartwheels were turned in short order by the high priests of laissez-faire, including The Economist and even the prominent industrialist and free-trader Richard Cobden, to explain why such massive state intervention was justifiable. European finance for cotton cultivation flowed freely also to Western Anatolia, Togo, Queensland, Brazil, Argentina, and Mexico. It was less the Civil War per se than the prospect of emancipation of the slaves that was presumed to toll the death knell for US raw cotton production, giving rise to many strange contortions as commentators tried to square their approval for the Northern cause of “free” wage labor with reasons—typically racist—why cotton-pickers across the world may have to be less free than other workers.1 Beckert notes how this shows that “cotton capitalists had learned that the lucrative global trade networks they had spun could only be protected and maintained by unprecedented state activism” (p. 273). Furthermore, capitalists came to learn that even without actual slavery a new domination over labor could be extended globally through the combined social mechanisms of the market, the law, and the state, if carefully arranged. Other historians have long documented the injustices of indentured labor within the post-slavery British Empire.2 In the US, the unhappy outcome of new strategies for Southern blacks themselves was, of course, sharecropping and the Jim Crow laws. Elsewhere imperial governments, having invested in the infrastructure to harvest new cotton fields, also required compliant workforces. In India, which by 1900 had become a major cotton supplier to Japan and Europe, the expansion of the railway—that archetypal symbol of progress and trade—spelled economic regression for skilled spinners and weavers, reduced to field workers. Worse was to come for many Indians with the forcible surveying and parceling out of property rights, seen by the government as an essential precondition for cotton production. Most smallholders soon fell into debt, rendering them acutely vulnerable in the recurrent famines that particularly afflicted cotton-growing districts in the 1890s: for instance in Berar province (part of modern Maharashtra), responsible for a quarter of all Indian cotton at that time (p. 297), 8.5 percent of the dispossessed population perished during 1900 (p. 337). Given this widespread experience, it is wholly understandable that the cause of cotton self-sufficiency came to play a central and symbolic role in India's subsequent nationalist Independence movement. Gandhi researched and wrote The Indian Cotton Textile Industry: Its Past, Present and Future (1930) to inform the Swadeshi movement, and the domestic spinning wheel features at the center of the Indian flag to this day. Elsewhere the Ottoman Empire planted cotton in Cukurowa, in southern Turkey, displacing its nomads; and Russia's internal colonization of the Central Asian Khanates was initially deemed such a great success that the Germans sought to emulate the Russian feat in Togo in West Africa. This was a particularly poignant and instructive episode, recounted in some detail by Beckert. The German colonists recruited educated sons of slaves from Booker T. Washington's Tuskegee Industrial and Normal Institute in Alabama to teach the Togo population “the Negro's favourite culture.” Although considerable production of cotton was achieved, the Germans then encountered economic limits. Without compulsion—and given the abundant, virtually free local food supply—the German colonizers simply could not pay the African workers enough per pound of cotton to make it worth their while to engage in the arduous labor required by cotton picking. Eventually the Russian venture that had inspired the Germans also failed, though for different reasons. Lacking the self-produced food supply of the more fortunate Togolese, the population in Turkestan fell by 18.5 percent over 1914–21 (p. 362). Overall, Beckert paints a bleak prospect for cotton-field laborers and small farmers across the globe by the early twentieth century. They were poor and indebted while the surplus of their industry was supporting the profits of private capital and the state's legal and administrative apparatus. The increasingly unionized cotton factory workers of Lancashire eventually won some gains, but not the dispossessed cotton pickers of the rest of the world. The final episode detailed by Beckert is the “Return of the Global South” in cotton manufacturing as well as cultivation. With cotton industrialists locked into a tightly dependent relationship with the state, once governments became more sensitive to the threats and, indeed, the democratic claims and eventually votes of organized labor, “Northern” industrialists found it increasingly difficult to avoid the rising labor costs won by workers’ campaigns for better living standards. However, manufacturers in the “South” were now able, with the support of their state officials, to expand wherever labor was less organized and workers less empowered than in Europe and North America. Perhaps the most ironic symbol of this was to be found within the US itself, where the Deep South, previously only a raw cotton supplier, completely overtook the industrial North between 1918 and 1965 as the country's principal of cotton. In the the labor of the Jim Crow Southern states, lacking the rights of other US was, in effect, a of the global merchant finance as as rapidly and without to global commercial wherever they the of legal for investments and labor British and other European of finance to the of cotton manufacturing flowed and and and to and Brazil, where the experience of Britain's own early manufacturing history itself (p. The history of an industry even that has been as central to the global as cotton, provide with a history of all of global capitalist development. However, Beckert has a high for a study of this Other to rise to the his interpretation on the of of other of global development. They could also in some detail in Beckert's in his of the for England's in yarn and cloth manufacture made by the of “free” labor into the new of war capitalism and a state not provide the story during the crucial as students of well Beckert's have more to early modern labor the movement, and the Poor not from the value of the This is a and highly and of along the Beckert's interpretation of capitalism has been and we can of it for the to study population and development to fully and this In a Beckert notes that there was only in the long history of the cotton industry capitalists, at least in the global North, were forced to accept a more even with their workforce and more with and increasingly politically organized into trade and national political This was the that Thomas has also recently as an of wealth in the more It is that, with a wholly different of and perspective, Beckert has an interpretation with for the of and world population and development that so closely to the of this other major study of
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