Principal The Sources of Social Power: Volume 2, The Rise of Classes and Nation-States, 1760-1914

The Sources of Social Power: Volume 2, The Rise of Classes and Nation-States, 1760-1914

Distinguishing four sources of power in human societies - ideological, economic, military, and political - The Sources of Social Power traces their interrelations throughout human history. This second volume of Michael Mann's analytical history of social power deals with power relations between the Industrial Revolution and the First World War, focusing on France, Great Britain, Hapsburg Austria, Prussia/Germany and the United States. Based on considerable empirical research, it provides original theories of the rise of nations and nationalism, of class conflict, of the modern state and of modern militarism. While not afraid to generalize, it also stresses social and historical complexity. Michael Mann sees human society as "a patterned mess" and attempts to provide a sociological theory appropriate to this. This theory culminates in the final chapter, an original explanation of the causes of the First World War. First published in 1993, this new edition of volume 2 includes a new preface by the author examining the impact and legacy of the work.
Año:
2012
Edición:
2
Editorial:
Cambridge University Press
Idioma:
english
Páginas:
846
ISBN 10:
1107670640
ISBN 13:
9781107670648
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PDF, 48.75 MB
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The sources of social power

VO L U M E

2

The rise of classes and nation-states, 1760–1914

Distinguishing four sources of power in human societies –
ideological, economic, military, and political – The Sources
of Social Power traces their interrelations throughout history.
This second volume of Michael Mann’s analytical history of
social power deals with power relations between the Industrial
Revolution and World War I, focusing on France, Great Britain,
Hapsburg Austria, Prussia/Germany, and the United States.
Based on considerable empirical research, it provides original
theories of the rise of nations and nationalism, of class conflict,
of the modern state, and of modern militarism. While not afraid
to generalize, it also stresses social and historical complexity.
Michael Mann sees human society as “a patterned mess” and
attempts to provide a sociological theory appropriate to this.
This theory culminates in the final chapter, an original explanation of the causes of World War I. First published in 1993, this
new edition of Volume 2 includes a new preface by the author
examining the impact and legacy of the work.
Michael Mann is Distinguished Professor of Sociology at the
University of California, Los Angeles. He is the author of
Power in the 21st Century: Conversations with John Hall (2011),
Incoherent Empire (2003), and Fascists (Cambridge 2004).
His book The Dark Side of Democracy (Cambridge 2005)
was awarded the Barrington Moore Award of the American
Sociological Association for the best book in comparative and
historical sociology in 2006.

The sources of social power
VOLUME

2

The rise of classes and nation-states,
1760–1914
MICHAE L MANN
University of California, Los Angeles

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS

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Cambridge University Press
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Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781107670648
© Cambridge University Press 1993, 201; 2
This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception
and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements,
no reproduction of any part may take place without the written
permission of Cambridge University Press.
First edition published 1993
Reprinted 1995, 1996, 1998, 2000, 2003
New edition published 2012
Printed in the United States of America
A catalog record for this publication is available from the British Library.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication data
Mann, Michael, 1942–
The sources of social power / Michael Mann.
v. cm.
Contents: v. 1. A history of power from the beginning to AD 1760 – v. 2. The rise of
classes and nation-states, 1760–1914 – v. 3. Global empires and revolution, 1890–1945 –
v. 4. Globalizations, 1945–2011.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-107-03117-3 (hardback : v. 1) – ISBN 978-1-107-63597-5 (pbk. : v. 1) –
ISBN 978-1-107-03118-0 (hardback : v. 2) – ISBN 978-1-107-67064-8 (pbk. : v. 2) –
ISBN 978-1-107-02865-4 (hardback : v. 3) – ISBN 978-1-107-65547-8 (pbk. : v. 3) –
ISBN 978-1-107-02867-8 (hardback : v. 4) – ISBN 978-1-107-61041-5 (pbk. : v. 4)
1. Social history. 2. Power (Social sciences) I. Title.
HN8.M28 2012
306.09–dc23
2012028452
ISBN 978-1-107-03118-0 Hardback
ISBN 978-1-107-67064-8 Paperback
Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs
for external or third-party Internet Web sites referred to in this publication and does not
guarantee that any content on such Web sites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Contents

Preface to the new edition
page vii
Preface
xix
1
Introduction
1
2
Economic and ideological power relations
23
3
A theory of the modern state
44
4
The Industrial Revolution and old regime liberalism in
Britain, 1760–1880
92
5
The American Revolution and the institutionalization
of confederal capitalist liberalism
137
6
The French Revolution and the bourgeois nation
167
7
Conclusion to Chapters 4–6: The emergence of classes
and nations
214
8
Geopolitics and international capitalism
254
9
Struggle over Germany: I. Prussia and authoritarian
national capitalism
297
10
Struggle over Germany: II. Austria and confederal
representation
330
11
The rise of the modern state: I. Quantitative data
358
12
The rise of the modern state: II. The autonomy of
military power
402
13
The rise of the modern state: III. Bureaucratization
444
14
The rise of the modern state: IV. The expansion of
civilian scope
479
15
The resistible rise of the British working class,
1815–1880
510
16
The middle-class nation
546
17
Class struggle in the Second Industrial Revolution,
1880–1914: I. Great Britain
597
18
Class struggle in the Second Industrial Revolution,
1880–1914: II. Comparative analysis of working-class
movements
628
19
Class struggle in the Second Industrial Revolution,
1880–1914: III. The peasantry
692
20
Theoretical conclusions: Classes, states, nations, and
the sources of social power
723

v

vi

Contents

21

Empirical culmination – over the top: Geopolitics,
class struggle, and World War I
Appendix Additional tables on state finances and state
employment

803

Index

816

740

Preface to the new edition

This book is bold and ambitious. It charts and explains the development
of power relations in the advanced countries of the world over 150 years
and interprets this with the aid of a general theory of power in human
societies. Readers of my first volume will be familiar by now with my
argument that the development of human societies can be explained in
terms of the interrelations of four sources of social power – ideological,
economic, military, and political (the IEMP model). These sources generate networks of interaction whose boundaries do not coincide. Instead,
they overlap, intersect, entwine, and sometimes fuse, in ways that defy
simple or unitary explanations of society given by social scientists. More
importantly, they also defy the ability of social actors to fully understand
their social situation, and it is that uncertainty which makes human action
somewhat unpredictable and which perpetually develops social change.
And yet this book is not as big in scope as my other three volumes.
Unlike them, it is not global. One enthusiastic reviewer did begin his
review of this one with the word “Colossal!” and ended saying “this volume stands alone for its heroic scope, and the depth of its analysis attests
to the author’s vision and determination” (Snyder, 1995: 167). Yet others were disappointed with what they saw as a narrowing of my scope
compared to Volume 1. Here I am resolutely focused from beginning to
end on Europe and America. I narrowed my focus firstly because in the
“long nineteenth century” Europe and its white settler colonies constituted the “leading edge” of power in the world. This was the first period
in world history in which one regional civilization came to dominate all
four sources of social power across the world – ideological, economic,
military, and political. This dominance was not to last long but it was
still firmly in place in July 1914 at the end of the period covered by this
volume. Yet this volume is even more tightly focused, for it largely ignores
the global empires of these Powers. I have been criticized on both counts
as being “Eurocentric,” but I feel that this is misplaced for this is avowedly
a book about only a part, albeit the most important part, of the world at
that time. It was never my intention to ignore the global empires or the
globe as a whole, and they are the subject matter of Volumes 3 and 4.
However, in my decision to focus on the leading advanced countries,
methodological issues also played a part. I am often asked about my
method. I confess to being methodologically unconscious. I just do what
vii

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Preface to the new edition

I do without thinking much about my method. Joseph Bryant (2006) and
Tim Jacoby (2004) give a much better explanation of my methodology
and my ontology than I could ever provide. However, there are certain
practical patterns to what I do. First, I cut down on the range of countries
and regions by focusing on the leading edge of power, the most advanced
civilizations at any one point in time. I have most obviously done that
in Volume 2 where I only discuss the five leading countries in European
civilization: Britain, France, Prussia/Germany, Austria-Hungary, and the
United States (with Russia playing a more intermittent role).
Second, I then read everything I can on this edge within the limits of
my linguistic abilities, but I stop reading when the result becomes simply to add detail or minor qualifications to my argument. I reached this
point much sooner for earlier historical periods than later ones because
in early history I could read almost everything published. But preparing
Volume 2 was a learning experience for me. Even after deciding to focus
on a few countries, my aspiration to read even half of what was available
on them meant I was spending an inordinate amount of time and writing
too much to be able to accomplish my original intent of including imperial history too, and of reaching the present day in my narrative. So I left
the empires to Volume 3 (adding the American and Japanese empires),
and I only reach up to today in Volume 4.
So with Volume 2 half-finished but already too long, I realized that if
I was ever to reach the present day, I had not only to write more volumes
but also to be much more selective in my reading. Luckily, technology
then came to my aid. The development of online capabilities has added
useful shortcuts to my reading task. In Volumes 3 and 4 I have been able
to enter a period or problem by searching for relevant online university
syllabi. The syllabi give me a sense of what every student is expected to
read on the topic and the better ones also give me a preliminary sense
of current debates. I then use recent book reviews and review articles in
journals available to me online through UCLA’s fine library resources to
read further on current thinking. I soon learned to greatly prefer the type
of book review that states clearly the book’s arguments and data to the
more self-indulgent review in which the author concentrates on giving
his/her own opinions on the topic. Then I read the selected works. This
method is probably the reason why I cite more books than journal articles, which I had not realized until Rogers Brubaker pointed it out to me.
However, “read” is not always the most appropriate description for my
treatment of books, because very often I “pillage” them, glancing though
the table of contents and the index for sections that bear on the themes I
am pursuing, neglecting the rest. This is a scholarly sin, of course, but it
is absolutely necessary in any very general work, given the immensity of
today’s scholarly production.

Preface to the new edition

ix

The third aspect of my method in all my volumes has been to continuously zig-zag between theory and data, developing a general idea, then
testing and refining it on the historical evidence, then back to theory,
then once again to data and so on, and so forth. In one respect here this
volume differs from Volume 1. There I had noted that explanations of
why Europe pioneered the way to modernity cannot employ the comparative method, because there are no other “pristine” cases of such a
breakthrough (Japan’s remarkable breakthrough came through conscious
adaptation of European institutions). All one could do was to compare
Europe to the one case that might have broken through to industrial capitalism but did not do so – Imperial China. In Volume 2, however, I can
deploy the comparative method, because Europe became divided into
nation-states, which had enough boundedness and enough similarities
and differences in their development to permit a comparative analysis
of them. Some readers took my rejection of the comparative method in
Volume 1 as being principled. But no, it was pragmatic, and in this volume reality allows me to do comparative research.
Once again, however, this volume expresses a distinctively sociological
view of history, one that is more concerned with theoretical questions
than is the case among historians, yet is more concerned with history
than is the case among sociologists. This is true even in this volume, which
does not have great geographical or historical breadth.
Let me state what I consider to be its strengths. I continue here my
argument established in Volume 1 that “societies” are not unitary or systemic. Human societies are constituted by power networks – ideological,
economic, military, and political power – which do not have the same
boundaries. These networks are overlapping, intersecting, and entwining, forming much looser units than most sociologists have accepted. In
the period covered in this volume, as I say on page 9, states harden into
nation-states with a certain degree of boundedness. But they nonetheless
entwine with a broader transnational “Western civilization” which was in
a sense competing as a basic membership unit. Thus sociology’s master
concept, “society” kept metamorphosing between the nation-state and
the civilization. But the similarity and the distinctiveness of each national
unit, and the fact that they were erecting what I call “cages” around part
of the lives of their subjects/citizens, enabled me to do comparative analysis of them.
These comparisons centre on what I identify as the two main actors of
modern times: classes and nation-states. I argue that the two cannot be
seen, as is conventional, as utterly separate from each other. Nor are they
opposites, the one undercutting the other. Instead, economic and political power relations have developed entwined with each other, influencing
rather than undercutting each other’s development.

x

Preface to the new edition

Recent trends in the disciplines of sociology and history have served
to obscure this. When I began writing this volume, class analysis dominated. What was called “social history” focused overwhelmingly on class
relations, and especially on the working class. There was then a reaction
against this overemphasis in the form of a general “cultural turn” in
which culture took over from the economy as the main object of study.
Insofar as classes were discussed at all, this was in terms of discourses,
symbolic communication, and the like rather than concrete labour relations or the material means of production. This was one result of the
decline of the traditional left in Western society, which was occurring
from the 1980s onward. But a new left was also emerging, centred not
on class but on “identity” rights, especially those of gender and ethnicity.
Writers on gender relations then took much attention away from class
analysis, though some were concerned to specify the relations between
class and gender. But those focusing on ethnicity virtually ignored class
relations, and that has been especially true of those working on nations
and nationalism. Thus class and nation have been kept apart, in separate
boxes, class predominating at first, then nation, thus obscuring the fact
that class and nation have developed together, entwined. It is now conventional, for example, to say that World War I represented the triumph
of nation over class. Yet we shall see in both this volume and Volume 3
that their interrelations were far more complex than this.
I believe that this book remains the best treatment available of the
development of the modern state. Chapter 3 presents my own theory of
the modern state. My notion that states “crystallize” in different forms
as a result of both their different functions and the pressure of different
constituencies on them is better able to cope with the real-world messiness of political life. Second, my treatment of the five states is rooted in
a detailed statistical analysis of their finances and employment records,
and on this quantitative basis I can launch into some grand historical
generalizations. In the course of this period, the main functions of the
state changed radically. At the beginning of the period, its main function was in the financing and the fighting of war. Charles Tilly famously
remarked that “war made the state and the state made war” (1975: 42).
But I find this was only so in Europe up to the mid-nineteenth century.
Nor did I think it likely that either his model or mine would fully apply to
other continents. In fact, Centeno (2002) found that it only applied to the
history of Latin America in a negative sense. There states rarely made war
and they remained puny, and Herbst (2000) says more or less the same
thing about postcolonial Africa. So the question there turns to “why did
they not make war?” By the end of the century, Western state civilian
functions, like building infrastructures, education, public health, and the
first stirrings of the welfare state, had emerged to rival warmaking. It

Preface to the new edition

xi

was now a dual civil-military state, a character it retained during most of
the twentieth century, although near the end of that century many states
were predominantly pursuing civilian roles. They have lost their historic
backbone. We can also see from my data that states developed greater
infrastructural power over their territories, even though, surprisingly,
their overall financial size was no greater as a proportion of the overall
economy than it had been at the beginning of the period – because the
growth of the economy was actually slightly greater than the growth of
the state. It was not yet a Leviathan, nor was it as bureaucratic as is often
assumed. On Sundays, U.S. President Harrison (in office from 1889 to
1893) would open the White House front door himself, because it was the
butler’s day off.
The third strength of my analysis of political power is the emphasis I
place on the rise of the nation-state. This offers further justification of
my oft-criticized, unconventional distinction between political and military power. The role of political power relations in this period is more
in terms of collective power (power through people) than of distributive power (power over people). The rising costs of war followed by the
growth of state infrastructures meant that people and their interaction
networks were gradually mobilized into nations. The metaphor I use is
that they were “caged” and “naturalized” within the nation-state. This
was consequential because social relations – especially class relations –
came to vary mainly according to the configuration of political power
in each country. Although the economic power relations of capitalism
varied across the advanced world, they were less important than national
variations in political power in determining the various outcomes of
labour conflict.
In the realm of classes, the period of this volume saw the phenomenal
growth of a capitalism, which generated the first and the second industrial revolutions and massive economic growth. This led to the development of modern social classes like the capitalist, middle, working, and
peasant classes. I focus for much of the time on the relations between
workers and capitalists, although I discuss the middle class in Chapter
16 and the peasantry in Chapter 19. I show that the peasantry was capable of much more collective organization than Marx had argued, and
that the middle class was very diverse, and not nearly as nationalistic as
is often believed. In my book Fascists (2004), I show that they were not
more susceptible to fascism than were other classes. All these classes were
extremely important from the time of the French Revolution to World
War I, because industrial capitalism became the fundamental economic
power structure of society. Those sociologists who have criticized me for
writing at length on class relations (on the grounds that class is passé) do
not seem to grasp the realities in the long nineteenth century.

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Preface to the new edition

Yet class relations between workers and their capitalist employers have
been ambiguous, in two different senses. First, workers do feel exploited,
yet they must cooperate on a daily basis with their employer in order
to obtain their daily bread. Thus conflict versus cooperation is a perennial choice for both workers and their employers. Secondly, when workers
do organize, three possible forms of solidarity emerge: class solidarity
among the working class as a whole, sectional solidarity among workers
in a particular trade, and segmental solidarity among workers in a particular enterprise. Here I argue that whether conflict or cooperation predominates and which combination of these three forms conflict takes are
explained more by political than economic power relations. Most specifically, the more workers are excluded from sharing in political power, the
more likely they are to form class-based organizations, to find plausible
the claims of socialists or anarcho-syndicalists, and to be attracted by the
prospect of revolution rather than reform. Thus, the ordering in terms of
the emergence of class, socialist and revolutionary sentiments runs from
Russia, through Austria-Hungary and Germany, to France and Britain,
and finally to the United States.
I now turn to considering criticisms and misinterpretations of the
volume. Some have interpreted my analysis in variations in class consciousness as my saying that political power relations are more important
than economic ones and so they conclude that this book is “state-centric”
(e.g., Tarrow, 1994; Mulhall, 1995). I reject this. In my conclusion on page
737, I identify two phases of what I call dual determination. In the first
phase, lasting until 1815, economic and military power relations predominated in the structuring of societies. But in the course of the nineteenth
century, power shifted and by the end of the century economic and political power relations (capitalism and nation-states) predominated. On the
face of it this would seem to give economic power relations some priority, which is not surprising given that these two phases correspond to
the onset of the first and second capitalist industrial revolutions. It also
implies that the advanced world became more state-centric and that is
one of my main arguments in this volume. But these dualities are heroic
simplifications of a very complex reality, and I should admit that I have
always been a little uneasy with them. And comparable heroic simplifications of other times and periods would look rather different.
As far as class relations are concerned, I should point out that it is principally the variations between countries that are more explicable in terms
of political power relations. That there was everywhere in this period
pronounced labour discontent is explicable in terms of the nature of the
economic power relations intrinsic to capitalism, while I also acknowledge that to explain the emergence of sectional and segmental organization, we need to also pay attention to craft and corporate structure. The

Preface to the new edition

xiii

structure of capitalism is obviously also a necessary part of any explanation, and when we combine this with political power relations, we have
a sufficient explanation of class outcomes. But I do not intend to elevate
political over economic power in this period.
George Lawson (2006: 491) airs the possibility that my work as a whole
contains an implicit hierarchy with military power at the top, followed
by political power, then economic power, and finally ideological power.
I think this would be a misinterpretation. Given that military power is
neglected in most social science, I may mention it too much for most
tastes. But my own view is that both military power and ideological power
are rather more erratic in their effects than are the other two. They sometimes emerge powerfully in world-historical moments, militarism launching great transformative wars and ideological power turning occasionally
transcendent and leading revolutionary changes in the way that people
view the world. But otherwise military power stays on the sidelines in the
form of a military caste minding its own business. Similarly, for the most
part, ideological power largely reproduces dominant power relations (as
Marxists argue). In this volume military power was important at the
beginning and the very end of the period (except in the colonies, where
it was continuously important), and it became more important again in
the twentieth century, while ideological power never really matched the
heights of the period of the much earlier emergence of the world religions
or the heights of twentieth-century secular ideologies. I make more general comments on the interrelations and relative importance of the power
sources at the end of Volume 4, but I reject the idea of any simple hierarchy among them.
Within Europe after 1815, this was largely a period of peace, so military power relations actually figure less in this volume than they did in
Volume 1 or than they will in Volume 3. Their main entrances are at the
beginning and the end. In the latter case we see evidence of the relative
autonomy of militaries from civilian state control, and this was important in helping cause World War I. I discuss this in Chapter 21. In Volume
3, I briefly revisit these causes. And I should note that there I added to the
explanation of the causes of this war greater emphasis on the thousandyear European tradition of militarism and imperialism. Europeans had
long been from Mars. This chapter has received much praise and it is in
many ways the clearest vindication of my overall model of human society.
As I conclude, on page 796, the war “resulted from the unintended consequences of the interaction of overlapping, intersecting power networks.”
No one could control the whole or could predict the reactions of other
nations, classes, statesmen, and militaries. That was why in August 1914
a disastrous war began, one that was to ensure the demise of European
power, whose rise I had charted in Volume 1. Military power relations

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Preface to the new edition

were also to play a role in the denouement of class relations in the first
half of the twentieth century. Only in countries that were effectively
defeated in the two world wars were there serious attempts at revolution.
This I show in Volume 3. These are examples of my most fundamental
point: that we cannot explain major social developments in any period
without considering the entwinings of more than a single source of social
power. Ideological, economic, military, and political determinisms must
all be rejected. However, in this period, having excluded colonies from
my purview, military power and political power are closely entwined. In
the advanced countries armies are no longer feudal, and paramilitaries
and civil wars are rare. The wars discussed here are between states. It is
really only the tendencies toward military castes, distinct from the civilian
authorities, that maintain the autonomy of military from political power
in this place, in this period.
Turning to ideological power, some criticize me for being too materialist, too instrumental, and too rationalist. In principle my model is none
of these things, although my practice has sometimes faltered. I prefer
the term “ideology” to “culture” or “discourse,” not because I view ideologies as false or a cover for interests, as materialists sometimes say. By
ideology I mean only a broad-ranging meaning system that “surpasses
experience.” “Culture” and “discourse” are too all-encompassing terms,
covering the communication of all beliefs, values, and norms, even sometimes all “ideas” about anything. When used so generally, they presuppose a contrast between only two realms, the “ideal” and the “material,”
leading to the traditional debate between idealism and materialism. The
material might be conceived of as “nature” as opposed to “culture,” or
as the “economic base” versus the “superstructure,” or as joint economic/
military interests (as in international relations “realism”) as opposed to
“constructivism” – or even as “structure” as opposed to “agency.”
These dualist debates are perennial. After a period dominated by materialist theories of everything, we now have cultural theories of everything.
As noted earlier, “nation” and “ethnicity” have largely replaced “class” as
objects of research; they are said to be “cultural,” whereas classes are
said to be “material”; they are usually discussed without any reference
to classes; and “cultural” and “ethno-symbolist” have largely replaced
“materialist” theories of nations and ethnicities. Thirty years ago, fascism
was explained in relation to capitalism and classes; now it is seen as a
“political religion.” My books Fascists and The Dark Side of Democracy:
Explaining Ethnic Cleansing suggest that this is not progress, but a shift
among equally one-sided theories.
Nonetheless, I may have given the impression of being a materialist in
four different ways.

Preface to the new edition

xv

(1) I use the word “material” when, to avoid confusion, I should have
written “concrete” or “real.” That is just an error of language, not of
substance.
(2) I endorse John Hall’s and Perry Anderson’s description of my theory as “organizational materialism,” and this often involves emphasizing
the “logistics” and “infrastructures” of ideological power, sometimes at
the expense of the content of their doctrines. My originality here lies
clearly with the organization of power, and I continue to emphasize that.
I also find myself at least as drawn to Durkheim’s emphasis on religious
rituals as to Weber’s emphasis on doctrine. Nonetheless, I should not
neglect either.
(3) I declare here on page 35 (as I also had in Volume 1, pages 471–2)
that ideological power declined through the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries. I still think this is broadly true within the most advanced
countries, yet I did not discuss in this volume the major ideology of the
period – racism. Lawson (2006: 492) goes further. He suggested to me
that I neglect a whole series of nineteenth-century ideologies. He lists
racism, Darwinism, colonialism, imperialism, nationalism, Marxism,
and liberalism as the main ones. In one sense I do neglect the first four
of them. But they form an interrelated group that was largely significant
because of Europe and America’s overseas empires. For example, racism
was only important in this period in colonies and not mother countries,
except for the United States. I do exclude empires from this volume, but I
deal extensively with them and with this cluster of ideologies in Volume
3. As for nationalism, Marxism, and liberalism, I think I do discuss them
in this volume.
(4) I declare that the extensive power of religion has continued to
decline since the nineteenth century in the face of rising secular ideologies like socialism and nationalism. Having subsequently researched
twentieth- and twenty-first-century fascism, ethno-nationalism, and religious fundamentalism, I now disown half of this statement. My emphasis on rising secular ideologies is correct, but I accept Gorski’s (2006)
criticism that religion has not generally declined in the world. I was
generalizing only on the basis of traditional Christian faiths in Europe,
which indeed still are declining, although much of the rest of the world
differs. More specific criticisms with some force are that I have sometimes been too rationalistic about religions in earlier periods, and that
I neglected the religious content of eighteenth-century politics (Bryant,
2006; Trentmann, 2006). Edgar Kiser (2006) is also right to see me as trying to lessen the rationalism and moving toward greater recognition of
value- and emotion-driven behaviour in my later work on fascism (2004)
and ethnic cleansing (2005).

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Preface to the new edition

My model of power ultimately abandons the distinction between ideas
and materiality in favour of one between “ideas and practices combined”
(or “action and structure combined”) in each of four power networks.
Nonetheless, ideological power is clearly more idea-heavy than the others. It comprises networks of persons bearing ideologies that cannot be
proved true or false, couched at a sufficient level of generality to be able
to give “meaning” to a range of human actions in the world – as religions,
socialism, and nationalism all do, for example. They also contain norms,
rules of interpersonal conduct that are “sacred,” strengthening conceptions of collective interest and cooperation, reinforced, as Durkheim
said, by rituals binding people together in repeated affirmations of their
commonality. So those offering plausible ideologies can mobilize social
movements and wield a general power in human societies analogous to
powers yielded by control over economic, military, and political power
resources. This is when ideology is what I call “transcendent,” for it cuts
right through institutionalized practices of economic, military, and political power.
The period discussed in this volume is not one of major ideologies. I
hope that in this volume, ideological power autonomy comes through in
my conception of an “ideological power elite” steering the direction of
the French Revolution in Chapter 6. Elsewhere in this volume I stress
that European states sometimes crystallize in terms of religious disputations, but if I do not deal extensively elsewhere in this volume with
religion, it is because I believe that, with the exception of racism (which
I discuss extensively in Volume 3), Europe did not see much ideological
power in this period and place. Religion was declining and the great twentieth-century ideologies of nationalism, socialism, and fascism were just
beginning to stir. Though people were beginning caged within the nation,
nationalism was still a rather shallow emotion among the working and
middle classes, becoming virulent (I argue in Chapter 16) largely among
those deriving their employment from the state. I do not claim to discuss
all ideas, values, norms, and rituals, only those mobilized in macro-power
struggles. Schroeder (2006) gives my defence of this neglect: ideas cannot do anything unless they are organized. This is why the label “organizational materialism” still seems partly apposite, whatever the economic
images it might set up in the reader’s mind, for ideas are not free-floating.
Nor are economic acquisition, violence, or political regulation – they all
need organizing. But maybe I should drop the word “materialism” and
just say that I have an organizational model of power and society.
I must acknowledge one final omission: the absence of gender relations
from this book. I admit on page 34 that I have omitted in this volume
the more intimate aspects of human life. To a certain extent I repair this
neglect in Volumes 3 and 4, although I doubt if this extent will satisfy my

Preface to the new edition

xvii

critics. In the end, my defence against this charge of neglect is only that I
cannot do everything! But I think you will agree that I do a lot of things
in this book.
Bibliography
Bryant, Joseph 2006 “Grand, yet grounded: ontology, theory, and method in
Michael Mann’s historical sociology” in John Hall & Ralph Schroeder
(eds.), An Anatomy of Power. The Social Theory of Michael Mann.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Centeno, Miguel 2002 Blood and Debt: War and State-Making in Latin America.
University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press.
Gorski, Philip 2006 “Mann’s theory of ideological power: sources, applications
and elaborations” in Hall & Schroeder, op. cit.
Herbst, Jeffrey 2000 States and Power in Africa: Comparative Lessons in Authority
and Control. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Jacoby, Tim 2004 “Method, narrative and historiography in Michael Mann’s
sociology of state development,” The Sociological Review, 52: 404–21.
Kiser, Edgar 2006 “Mann’s microfoundations: addressing neo-Weberian dilemmas” in Hall & Schroeder, op. cit.
Lawson, George 2006 “The social sources of life, the universe and everything: a
conversation with Michael Mann,” Millennium – Journal of International
Studies, 34: 487–508.
Mann, Michael 2004 Fascists. New York: Cambridge University Press.
2005 The Dark Side of Democracy: Explaining Ethnic Cleansing. New York:
Cambridge University Press.
Mulhall, Terry 1995 “Review of The Sources of Social Power, Vol II,” The British
Journal of Sociology, 46, 362–3.
Schroeder, Ralph 2006 “Introduction: the IEMP model and its critics” in Hall &
Schroeder, op. cit.
Snyder, Wayne 1995 “Review of The Sources of Social Power, Vol II,” The Journal
of Economic History, 55, 167–9.
Tarrow, Sidney 1994 “Review of The Sources of Social Power, Vol II,” American
Political Science Review, 88, 1031–2.
Tilly, Charles 1975 “Reflections on the history of European state-making” in Tilly,
ed., The Formation of National States in Western Europe. Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press.
Trentman, Frank 2006 “The ‘British’ sources of social power: reflections on history, sociology, and intellectual biography” in Hall & Schroeder, op.
cit.

Preface

This is the second volume of what is intended as a four-volume study
of the sources of social power. It delivers, however, only 63 percent of
the coverage promised in Volume 1, ending in 1914, not in 1990, as I
announced there. Volume 3 will cover the twentieth century (perhaps the
whole century, by the time I finish). The theoretical conclusion to The
Sources of Social Power will be Volume 4. I hope all who have expressed
interest in my conclusions will still be around then.
I have worked on the research for this volume for more than a decade,
beginning in the mid-1970s, when I believed Sources would be one normal-sized book. Over the years, I have benefited from the labors, advice,
and criticism of many. Roland Axtmann and Mark Stephens helped
me collect the comparative statistics in Chapter 11, and Mark also
aided me with Chapter 5. Jill Stein helped to collect data on the French
revolutionaries for Chapter 6. Ann Kane contributed substantially to
Chapter 19, as well as elsewhere, especially Chapter 16. Marjolein ’t
Hart, John Hobson, and John B. Legler showed me unpublished data for
Chapter 11. Joyce Appleby and Gary Nash set me almost straight about
the American Revolution; Ed Berenson and Ted Margadant, about the
French Revolution; James Cronin and Patrick Joyce, about British labor
history; and Kenneth Barkin and Geoff Eley, about German history.
Christopher Dandeker commented generously on Chapter 12; Ronen
Palan, on Chapters 3, 8, and 20; and Anthony Smith, on Chapter 7. John
Stephens was extraordinarily helpful for Chapters 18 and 19. Randall
Collins and Bill Domhoff have been helpful in their responses to both
volumes. I also thank an anonymous reviewer of the first draft of this
book. His or her critique forced me to clarify some of my central ideas.
I thank the London School of Economics and Political Science and the
University of California at Los Angeles for providing me with supportive
working environments over the last decade. Both also provided seminar
series whose excellent discussions helped me clarify many ideas. The LSE
Patterns of History seminar flourished principally because of the excitement provided by Ernest Gellner and John A. Hall; the seminars of the
UCLA Center for Social Theory and Comparative History have depended
especially on Bob Brenner and Perry Anderson. My secretaries, Yvonne
Brown in London and Ke-Sook Kim, Linda Kiang, and Alisa Rabin in Los
Angeles, have treated me and my work perhaps better than we deserve.
xix

xx

Preface

I owe the greatest intellectual debt to John A. Hall, who has continued
for many years to provide me with perceptive criticisms entwined with
warm friendship. To Nicky Hart and to our children, Louise, Gareth, and
Laura, I owe love and perspective.

1

Introduction

This volume continues my history of power through the "long nineteenth century," from the Industrial Revolution to the outbreak of
World War I. Focus is on five Western countries at the leading edge of
power: France, Great Britain,! Habsburg Austria, Prussia-Germany,
and the United States. My overall theory remains unchanged. Four
sources of social power - ideological, economic, military, and political
- fundamentally determine the structure of societies. My central questions also remain the same: What are the relations among these four
power sources? Is one or more of them ultimately primary in structuring
society?
The greatest social theorists gave contrary answers. Marx and Engels
replied clearly and positively. In the last instance, they asserted,
economic relations structure human societies. Max Weber replied
more negatively, saying "no significant generalizations" can be made
about the relations between what he called "the structures of social
action." I reject Marxian materialism, but can I improve on Weberian
pessimism?
There is both good news and bad news. I want you to read on, so I
start with the good news. This volume will make three significant
generalizations concerning primacy. I state them outright now; the rest
of the book will add many details, qualifications, and caveats.
1. During the eighteenth century, two sources of social power, the
economic and the military, preponderated in determining Western
social structure. By 1800, the "military revolution" and the rise of
capitalism had transformed the West, the former providing predominantly "authoritative" power and the latter predominantly "diffused"
power. Because they were so closely entwined, neither can be accorded
a singular ultimate primacy.
2. Yet, into the nineteenth century, as military power was subsumed
into the "modern state" and as capitalism continued to revolutionize
the economy, economic and political power sources began to dominate.
Capitalism and its classes, and states and nations, became the decisive
1

I discuss only mainland Britain, excluding Ireland, which Britain ruled
throughout this period. After hesitation I decided to treat the only major
European colony as I treat other colonies (except for the future United States)
in this volume: excluding them except as they impacted on the imperial
country.

1

2

The rise of classes and nation-states

power actors of modern times - the former still providing more diffuseness and ambiguity; the latter, most of the authoritative resolution
of this ambiguity. Again, because they too were entwined, neither can
be accorded a singular ultimate primacy.
3. Ideological power relations were of declining and lesser power
significance during the period. Medieval Europe had been decisively
structured by Christendom (as Volume I argues); in 1760, churches
were still (just) revolutionizing the means of discursive communication. No comparable ideological power movement appeared later in
this period, although churches kept many powers and literacy had
considerable impact. The most important modern ideologies have concerned classes and nations. In terms of a distinction explained later,
ideological power (except in rare revolutionary moments; see Chapters
6 and 7) was more "immanent" than "transcendent" in this period,
aiding the emergence of collective actors created by capitalism, militarism, and states.
Now for the bad news, or, rather, complicating news from which we
can actually construct a richer theory more appropriate to deal with
the mess that constitutes real human societies:
1. The four power sources are not like billiard balls, which follow
their own trajectory, changing direction as they hit each other. They
"entwine," that is, their interactions change one another's inner shapes
as well as their outward trajectories. The events discussed here - the
French Revolution, British near hegemony, the emergence of nationalism or of socialism, middle-class or peasant politics, the causes and
outcomes of wars, and so forth - involved the entwined development
of more than one power source. I criticize "pure" and mono causal
theories. Generalizations cannot culminate in a simple statement of
"ultimate primacy." The three statements I made earlier turn out to be
rough and "impure" generalizations, not laws of history.
2. My rough and impure generalizations also fail to distinguish between Parsons's (1960: 199-225) distributive and collective power; yet
their histories differ. Distributive power is the power of actor A over
actor B. For B to acquire more distributive power, A must lose some.
But collective power is the joint power of actors A and B cooperating
to exploit nature or another actor, C. In this period Western collective
powers grew simply and dramatically: Commercial capitalism, then
industrial capitalism, enhanced human conquest of nature; the military
revolution enhanced Western powers; the modern state fostered the
emergence of a new collective power actor, the nation. Though other
sources of social power helped cause these developments, these three
"revolutions" in collective power were primarily (and respectively)
caused by economic, military, and political power relations (the

Introduction

3

"revolution" in ideological power - the expansion of discursive literacy
- was less "pure"). Distributive power changes were more complex
and "impure." The growing collective powers of states actually lessened
the powers of political elites over their subjects, as "party democracies" began to displace monarchies. Nor did military or ideological
elites generally enhance their distributive power over others. Yet two
major and impure distributive power actors, classes and nations, did
emerge - first in response to military and economic power relations,
then as institutionalized by political and economic power relations.
Their complex history requires more than a few sentences to summarize.
3. Classes and nation-states also emerged entwined, adding more
complexity. Conventionally, they have been kept in separate compartments and viewed as opposites: Capitalism and classes are considered
"economic," national-states "political"; classes are "radical" and
usually "transnational," nations "conservative," reducing the strength
of classes. Yet they actually arose together, and this created a further
unresolved problem of ultimate primacy: the extent to which social life
was to be organized around, on the one hand, diffuse, market, transnational, and ultimately capitalist principles or, on the other, around
authoritative, territorial, national, and statist ones. Was social organization to be transnational, national, or nationalist? Should states
be authoritatively weak or strong, confederal or centralized? Were
markets to be left unregulated, selectively protected, or imperially
dominated? Was geopolitics to be peaceful or warlike? By 1914, no
simple choice had been made - nor has one yet been made. These
considerations remain the key ambivalences of modern civilization.
4. Classes and nation-states did not go unchallenged throughout the
history of Western civilization. "Sectional" and "segmental" actors
(rivals to classes) and transnational and "local-regional" actors (rivals
to nations) endured. I treat such organizations as notable political
parties, aristocratic lineages, military command hierarchies, and internal labor markets as segmental power organizations. I treat such
social movements as minority (and some majority) churches, artisanal
guilds, and secessionist movements as essentially local-regional alternatives to national organizations. All affected the makeup of classes
and nation-states, reducing their power and their purity.
5. The cumulative effect of all these interactions - among the sources
of social power, between collective and distributive power actors,
between market and territory, and among classes, nations, sectional,
segmental, transnational, and local-regional organizations - produced
an overall complexity often exceeding the understanding of contemporaries. Their actions thus involved many mistakes, apparent accidents, and unintended consequences. These would then act back to

4

The rise of classes and nation-states

change the constitution of markets, classes, nations, religions, and so
forth. I attempt to theorize mistakes, accidents, and unintended consequences, but they obviously provide yet more complexity.
Thus the discussion in this volume will broadly push forward my
three rough, impure generalizations while recognizing these five additional complications. They cope with the patterned mess that is human
society, as must all sociological theory.
I discuss sociological theories in this and the next two chapters.
Then follow five groups of narrative chapters. Chapters 4- 7 cover the
period of the American, French, and Industrial revolutions, which I
situate amid transformations of all four sources of power. Two had
begun far earlier - capitalism and the military revolution - but during
the eighteenth century they helped foster ideological and political
transformations, each with its own partly autonomous logic - the
rise of discursive literacy and the rise of the modern state. I take
all four "revolutions" seriously. From the Boston Tea Party to the
Great Reform Act, from the spinning jenny to George Stephenson's
"Rocket," from the Tennis Court Oath to the Karlsbad Decrees, from
the field of Valmy to that of Waterloo - events were impure, presupposing varying combinations of the four power revolutions, carrying
classes, nations, and their rivals forward in complex forms that often
escaped their own control. Chapter 7 presents my overall account of
power developments during this early part of the period, putting final
causal emphasis on military states and commercial capitalism.
Chapters 9 and 10 focus on Prussian-Austrian rivalry in Central
Europe and on the complex developing relations between class and
national actors. They explain the eventual triumph there of relatively
centralized nation-states over more decentralized confederal regimes.
The conclusion to Chapter 10 summarizes the arguments of these two
chapters and discusses whether Central European resolutions were
general across Western civilization.
Chapters 11-14 analyze the rise of the modern state. I present
statistics on the finances and personnel of the five states, and I disaggregate state growth into four distinct processes: size, scope,
representation, and bureaucracy. The massive growth in size was
military-led, occurring up to 1815, politicizing much of social life. It
fostered extensive and political classes, as well as nations, at the
expense of local-regional and transnational actors. Contrary to general
belief, most states did not grow again until World War I. But after
1850, states - mainly responding to the industrial phase of capitalism vastly extended their civilian scope and, quite unintentionally, this
integrated the nation-state, fostered national classes, and weakened
transnational and local-regional power actors.

Introduction

5

Most functionalist, Marxian, and neo-Weberian theories of the
modem state emphasize its increasing size, scope, efficiency, and homogeneity. Yet, as states grew and then diversified, their two emerging
control mechanisms - representation and bureaucracy - struggled to
keep pace. Representative conflicts centered on which classes and
which religious and linguistic communities should be represented and
where they should be represented; that is, how centralized and national
should the state be? Although the "who" has been much theorized,
the "where" has not. True, there are many empirical studies of states'
rights in the United States and of nationalities in Habsburg Austria.
But struggle between the centralized nation and local-regional power
actors was actually universal, and the representative and national issues
were always entwined. Because neither issue was resolved during this
period, as states grew they became less coherent. This became glaringly
evident in the disjunction between domestic and foreign policy: Classes
became obsessed with domestic politics while political and military
elites enjoyed privacy in foreign policy. Marxism, elite theory, and
pluralist theory see states as too coherent. I apply my own "polymorphous" theory, presented in Chapter 3, to show that modem
states "crystallized," often messily, in four main forms - as capitalist,
as militarist, and with differing solutions to the representative and
national issues. The conclusion of Chapter 14 summarizes my theory of
the rise of the modem state.
The fourth group, Chapters 15-20, deals with class movements
among middle and lower classes and with the emergence of popular
nations after 1870. Commercial and industrial capitalism developed
class, sectional, and segmental organizations simultaneously and ambiguously. I attribute outcomes mainly to authoritative political power
relations. Chapter 15 discusses the "first working class," in early
nineteenth-century Britain. Chapter 16 treats three middle-class fractions - petite bourgeoisie, professionals, and careerists - and their
relations with nationalism and the nation-state. Chapters 17 and 18
describe the three-way competition for the soul of the worker among
class, sectionalism, and segmentalism, which was authoritatively resolved by the varying crystallizations of modem states. Chapter 19
analyzes a similar resolution of the competition for peasants' souls
among "production classes," "credit classes," and "segmental sectors."
Chapter 20 presents a generalization of all this material and summarizes the relations among the sources of social power throughout the
"long nineteenth century."
Thus Chapter 7, the conclusions to Chapters 10, 11, and 14, and
Chapter 20 generalize the conclusions of this volume. But there was
another conclusion, a truly empirical one. to the period. Western society

6

The rise of classes and nation-states

went over the top into the Great War, the most devastating conflict in
history. The previous century had also culminated in a devastating
sequence of wars, the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars, and
these culminations are discussed in Chapters 8 and 21. Chapter 21,
explaining the causes of World War I, is a final empirical exemplification of my general theory. It rejects explanations predominantly
centered on either geopolitics or class relations. Neither can explain
why the actions taken were objectively irrational and were recognized
as such by the protagonists amid calmer times. The entwining of
classes, nations, and their rivals produced a downward spiral of
unintended domestic and geopolitical consequences too complex to be
fully understood by participants or controlled by polymorphous states.
It is important to learn lessons from this decline and to institutionalize
power so as not to repeat it.
The rest of this chapter and the next two explain further my IEMP
model of power. I repeat my advice to the reader given at the beginning of Volume I: If you find sociological theory hard going, skip to
the first narrative chapter, Chapter 4. Later, it is hoped, you will
return to the theory.
The IEMP model of power organization
In pursuit of our goals, we enter into power organizations with three
characteristics of form and four of substance that determine the overall
structure of societies:
1. As noted earlier, organization involves collective and distributive
power. Most actual power relations - say, between classes or between
a state and its subjects - involve both, in varying combinations.
2. Power may be extensive or intensive. Extensive power can organize large numbers of people over far-flung territories. Intensive power
mobilizes a high level of commitment from participants.
3. Power may be authoritative or diffused. Authoritative power comprises willed commands by an actor (usually a collectivity) and conscious obedience by subordinates. It is found most typically in military
and political power organizations. Diffused power is not directly commanded; it spreads in a relatively spontaneous, unconscious, and
decentered way. People are constrained to act in definite ways, but not
by command of any particular person or organization. Diffused power
is found most typically in ideological and economic power organizations. A good example is market exchange in capitalism. This involves
considerable constraint that is yet impersonal and often seemingly
"natural. "
The most effective exercises of power combine collective and dis-

Introduction

7

tributive, extensive and intensive, authoritative and diffused power.
That is why a single power source - say, the economy or the military is rarely capable of determining alone the overall structure of societies.
It must join with other power resources, as in the two overall dual
determinations I identify throughout this period. In fact there are four
substantive sources of social power: economic, ideological, military,
and political.
1. Ideological power derives from the human need to find ultimate
meaning in life, to share norms and values, and to participate in
aesthetic and ritual practices. Control of an ideology that combines
ultimate meanings, values, norms, aesthetics, and rituals brings general
social power. Religions provide most examples in Volume I and figure
here along with secular ideologies like liberalism, socialism, and
nationalism - all increasingly grappling with the meaning of class and
nation.
Each power source generates distinct organizational forms. Ideological power is predominantly diffused, commanding through persuasion, a claim to "truth" and "free" participation in ritual. Its diffusion
has two principal forms. It may be sociospatially "transcendent." That
is, an ideology may diffuse right through the boundaries of economic,
military, and political power organizations. Human beings belonging
to different states, classes, and so forth face similar problems to which
an ideology offers plausible solutions. Then ideological power spreads
transcendentally to form a new, distinctive and powerful network of
social interaction. Second, ideological power may solidify an existing
power organization, developing its "immanent morale." Transcendence
is a radically autonomous form of power; immanence reproduces and
strengthens existing power relations.
2. Economic power derives from the need to extract, transform,
distribute, and consume the resources of nature. It is peculiarly powerful because it combines intensive, everyday labor cooperation with
extensive circuits of the distribution, exchange, and consumption of
goods. This provides a stable blend of intensive and extensive power
and normally also of authoritative and diffused power (the first of each
pair centers on production, the second on exchange). Volume I calls
such economic power organizations "circuits of praxis," but the term is
too abstruse. I now abandon it in favor of more conventional labels for
the forms of economic cooperation and conflict discussed in these
volumes: classes and sectional and segmental economic organizations.
All complex societies have unequally distributed control over economic resources. Thus classes have been ubiquitous. Marx distinguished
most basically between those who own or control the means of production, distribution, and exchange and those who control only their own

8

The rise of classes and nation-states

labor - and we can obviously go into more detail distinguishing further
classes with more particular rights over economic resources. Such
classes can also be broken down into smaller, sectional actors, like a
skilled trade or a profession. Classes relate to each other vertically class A is above class B, exploiting it. Yet other groups conflict
horizontally with one another. Following anthropological usage, I term
such groups "segments.,,2 The members of a segmental group are
drawn from various classes - as in a tribe, lineage, patron-client network, locality, industrial enterprise, or the like. Segments compete
horizontally with each other. Classes, sections, and segments all crosscut and weaken one another in human societies.
Volume I showed that segments and sections had hitherto usually
predominated over classes. Classes were generally only "latent":
Owners, laborers, and others struggled, but usually semicovertly, intensively, confined to an everyday, local level. Most extensive struggle
was between segments. But if class relations begin to predominate, we
reach a second stage: "extensive" classes, sometimes "symmetric,"
sometimes "asymmetric." Asymmetric extensive classes generally
arrived first: Only owners were extensively organized, whereas laborers
were locked into sectional and segmental organizations. Then, in symmetric extensive class structures, both main classes become organized
over a similar sociospatial area. Finally we reach the "political class,"
organized to control the state. Here again we may distinguish symmetric and asymmetric (i.e., where only owners are politically organized) class structures. In his more grandiose moments Marx claimed
that political, symmetric, extensive classes, and class struggle provided
the motor of history. Yet, as discussed in Volume I (with the exceptions of classical Greece and early Republican Rome), classes were
only becoming political and extensive just before the Industrial
Revolution. In most agrarian societies a dominant class, organized
extensively, "caged" subordinate latent classes inside its own segmental power organizations. This volume describes an uncompleted
drift toward Marx's full, symmetric class struggle and the linked transformation of sections and segments.
3. Military power is the social organization of physical force. It
derives from the necessary of organized defense and the utility of
aggression. Military power has both intensive and extensive aspects,
for it concerns intense organization to preserve life and inflict death
and can also organize many people over large sociospatial areas. Those
2

Rather confusingly, American class theorists have begun to use the term
"segment" to refer to a portion of a class, what Europeans term a "class
fraction." I stick to anthropological and European usage here.

Introduction

9

who monopolize it, as military elites and castes, can wield a degree of
general social power. Military organization is essentially authoritative
and "concentrated-coercive." The military provides disciplined, routinized coercion, especially in modern armies. (Chapter 12 stresses the
role of military discipline in modern society.) In its impact on the
broader society, military power is sociospatially dual. It provides a
concentrated core in which coercion ensures positive cooperation - for
example, in slave labor in earlier historic societies or in ritualized
"shows of force," as discussed in this volume. But it also provides a far
larger military striking range of a more negative, terroristic form.
Volume I stresses this especially in its Chapter 5, "The First Empires
of Domination." In the modern West military power differs. It has
been formally monopolized and restricted by states, yet military elites
have kept considerable autonomy inside states, impacting considerably
on society, as we shall see.
4. Political power derives from the usefulness of territorial and
centralized regulation. Political power means state power. It is essentially authoritative, commanded and willed from a center. State
organization is twofold: Domestically, it is "territorially centralized";
externally, it involves geopolitics. Both have impact on social development, especially in modern times. Chapter 3 is devoted to theorizing
about the modern state.
The struggle to control ideological, economic, military, and political
power organizations provides the central drama of social development.
Societies are structured primarily by entwined ideological, economic,
military, and political power. These four are only ideal types; they do
not exist in pure form. Actual power organizations mix them, as all
four are necessary to social existence and to each other. Any economic
organization, for example, requires some of its members to share
ideological values and norms. It also needs military defense and state
regulation. Thus ideological, military, and political organizations help
structure economic ones, and vice versa. Societies do not contain autonomous levels or subsystems, each developing separately according
to its own logic ("from the feudal to the capitalist mode of production,"
"from the dynastic to the nation-state," etc.). In major transitions the
fundamental interrelations, and very identities, of organizations such
as "economies" or "states" became metamorphosed. Even the very
definition of "society" may change. Throughout this period the nationstate and a broader transnational Western civilization competed as
basic membership units. Sociology's master concept, "society," kept
metamorphosing between the two.
The power sources thus generate overlapping, intersecting networks
of power relations with different sociospatial boundaries and dynamics;

10

The rise of classes and nation-states

and their interrelations produce unanticipated, emergent consequences
for power actors. My IEMP model is not one of a social system,
divided into four "subsystems," "levels," "dimensions," or any other
of the geometric terms favored by social theorists. Rather, it forms an
analytical point of entry for dealing with mess. The four power sources
offer distinct, potentially powerful organizational means to humans
pursuing their goals. But which means are chosen, and in which combinations, will depend on continuous interaction between what power
configurations are historically given and what emerges within and
among them. The sources of social power and the organizations embodying them are impure and "promiscuous." They weave in and out
of one another in a complex interplay between institutionalized and
emergent, interstitial forces.
A revolutionary long century?

We have an obvious discontinuity from Volume I: Whereas it covered
10,000 years of human social experience and 5,000 years of civilized
history worldwide, Volume II covers a mere 154 years and only the
core area of a single civilization, Western Europe and its principal
white colonial offshoot. Many broad-ranging issues discussed in Volume
I are outside the scope of this volume. I cannot chart further (except
in limited ways) one of its principal themes, the dialectic between
empires of domination and multi-power-actor civilizations, since my
civilization was merely an example of the latter. This volume replaces
the macro with the micro.
There are good reasons for narrowing the scope. Western civilization now transformed the globe, and its wealth of documentation
allows a finer grained narrative, linking macrostructures, group decision
making, and individual human agency. I can also assay more comparative analysis. Some reviewers of the first volume assumed I opposed
comparative analysis on principle. I do not. The more the cases and
the closer they are in world-historical time, the more we can compare them. Provided we remember that my five cases were merely
"countries" or "Powers," and not total "societies," they can be fruitfully compared. Most historians and sociologists also regard this period
as essentially discontinuous from earlier history. They believe overall
social development was ultimately determined by a singular, usually
an economic, revolution. This is a simpler explanation than my IEMP
model: not four sources but one fundamental source of power; not
impure, interstitial entwining and metamorphosing, but a single dialectical system. Is their model of a single revolution useful?

Introduction

11

Within about seventy years, first in Great Britain between about
1780 and 1850, then in Western Europe and America over the next
seventy years, occurred what is generally acknowledged as the most
momentous revolution in human history, the Industrial Revolution. It
transformed the power of humans over nature and over their own
bodies, the location and density of human settlement, and the landscape and natural resources of the earth. In the twentieth century all of
these transformations spread over the globe. Today, we live in a global
society. It is not a unitary society, nor is it an ideological community or
a state, but it is a single power network. Shock waves reverberate
around it, casting down empires, transporting massive quantities of
people, materials, and messages, and, finally, threatening the ecosystem
and atmosphere of the planet.
Most sociological and historical theory considers such changes
"revolutionary" in the sense of their being qualitative, not merely
quantitative. It dichotomizes human history around 1800. Classical
sociological theory arose as little more than a series of dichotomies
among societies existing before and after then, each considered to have
a unitary, systemic character. The main dichotomies were from feudal
to industrial society (Saint-Simon); from the metaphysical to the
scientific stage (Comte); from militant to industrial society (Spencer);
from feudalism to capitalism (Smith, the political economists, and
Marx); from status to contract (Maine); from community to association
(Tonnies); and from mechanical to organic forms of the division of
labor (Durkheim). Even Weber, who did not dichotomize, saw history
as a singular rationalization process, although he traced its development back farther.
There has been no letup. In the 1950s, Parsons identified a fourfold
dichotomy revolutionizing interpersonal relations. These shifted from
being particularistic to universalistic, from ascriptive to achievementoriented, from affective (i.e., emotion-laden) to affectively neutral and
instrumental, from being specific to a particular relationship to being
diffuse across most relations. Preindustrial relationships were dominated by the former qualities; industrial societies, by the latter. Then
the ghosts of Comte and Marx reappeared in Foucault's (1974, 1979)
distinction between the classical and the bourgeois age, each dominated
by its own "episteme" or "discursive formation" of knowledge and
power. Giddens (1985) draws on all these writers in his avowedly "discontinuist" distinction between premodern societies and the modern
nation-state.
Recently, some trichotomies have appeared, that is, arguments for a
third type of society in the late twentieth century. These all suggest
two transitions - from feudal to industrial to postindustrial; from

12

The rise of classes and nation-states

feudal to capitalist to monopoly capitalist, disorganized capitalist, or
postcapitalist; and from premodern to modern to postmodern. Postmodernism is now rampaging through academe, although it only
scuttles through sociology. Its vitality depends on whether there was
indeed a preceding "modern" era. These third stages are outside the
scope of this volume (they will figure in Volume III). But the revisions
do not question the revolutionary, systemic nature of the first transition; they merely add a second one.
I begin to unravel these dichomoties and trichotomies by critiquing
their two main assumptions and their one internal disagreement. First,
they assume that this period qualitatively transformed society as a
whole. Second, they locate the transformation in an economic revolution. Most are explicit; a few, covert. For example, Foucault never
explained his transition, but he repeatedly described it as a "bourgeois"
revolution in an apparently Marxian sense (but because he had no real
theory of distributive power, he never made clear who is doing what to
whom). I contest both assumptions.
But the unraveling can start with the disagreement between the
dichotomies. Whereas some see the essence of the new economy as
industrial (Saint-Simon, Comte, Spencer, Durkheim, Bell, Parsons),
others label it capitalist (Smith, the political economists, Marx, neoMarxists, Foucault, Giddens, most postmodernists). Capitalism and
industrialism were different processes occurring at different times,
especially in the most advanced countries. Britain had a predominantly
capitalist economy long before the Industrial Revolution.
In the 1770s, Adam Smith applied his theory of market capitalism to
an essentially agrarian economy, apparently with little inkling that
an industrial revolution was in the offing. If the capitalist school is
correct, we must date the English revolutionary transformation from
the eighteenth or even the seventeenth century. If the industrial school
is correct, we may retain an early nineteenth-century dating. If both
are partly correct, however, then there was more than one revolutionary process, and we must unravel their entwinings. Actually, economic
transformations may have been even more complex. Current economic
historians downplay the impact of the (first) Industrial Revolution,
whereas others emphasize a "Second Industrial Revolution" that
affected the leading economies from about 1880 to 1920. Relations
between capitalism and industrialization also differed between regions
and countries, and I shall show that economic transformation was not
singular or systemic.
Was it a qualitative change? Yes on collective power, but no on
distributive power. There was now indeed an unparalleled, truly
exponential transformation in the logistics of collective power (as

Introduction

13

Giddens 1985 emphasizes). Consider three measures of collective
powers: the capacity to mobilize large numbers of people, the capacity
to extract energy from nature, and the capacity of this civilization to
exploit others collectively.
Population growth measures the increasing capacity to mobilize
people in social cooperation. In England and Wales the entire process
of human development had achieved 5 million population by 1640.
After 1750, growth curved upward, reaching 10 million by 1810 and 15
million by 1840. What had first taken millennia now took thirty years.
Across the globe the first billion of world population was not reached
until 1830; the second took a century; the third, thirty years; and the
fourth, fifteen years (McKeown 1976: 1-3; Wrigley and Schofield
1981: 207-15). During the previous millennia life expectancy mostly
stayed in the 30s, then it improved through nineteenth-century Europe
to fifty years and in the twentieth century to more than seventy years,
a massive change in human experience (Hart, forthcoming). Similar
acceleration occurred in virtually all forms of collective mobilization.
Between 1760 and 1914, statistics on the communication of messages
and goods, gross national product, per capita income, and weapon-kill
ratios reveal a takeoff beyond all known historical rhythms. The
growth of collective power mobilization, of what Durkheim called
"social density," became truly exponential.
The ability of humans to extract energy from nature also greatly
increased. In the agrarian societies discussed in Volume I, energy output depended overwhelmingly on human and animal muscle. Muscles
required calories provided by agricultural produce, which required
almost everyone's labor. There was an energy trap, with little left
to spare for nonagricultural activity beyond supporting small ruling
classes, armies, and churches. Landes (1969: 97-8) points out the
difference coal mines and steam engines made: By 1870, British coal
consumption exceeded 100 million tons. This generated about 800
million calories of energy, enough to supply the energy requirements
of a preindustrial society of 200 million adults. The actual British
population in 1870 was 31 million, but this energy was generated by
only 400,000 miners. Humans' current ability to extract energy even
threatens to exhaust the earth's reserves and destroy its ecosystem.
In historical terms, this rate of energy extraction is simply staggering.
Agrarian societies might occasionally match the energy concentration
of a coal mine or a large steam engine - for example, a Roman legion
building a road or Egyptians constructing a pyramid - but these sites
would be teeming with thousands of men and beasts. The approach
roads, ending at great storehouses, would be choked with supply
wagons. For miles around agriculture would be organized to deliver its

14

The rise of classes and nation-states

surpluses there. Such agrarian logistics presupposed an authoritarian
federation of local-regional and segmental power organizations, coercively concentrating their powers onto this one extraordinary task.
Yet, by 1870, steam engines were found everywhere in Britain, each
involving perhaps fifty workers and their families, a few beasts, a
shop, and a couple of supply vehicles. Energy output no longer required concentrated, extensive, and coercive mobilization. It diffused
throughout civil society, transforming collective power organization.
This single civilization could now dominate the world. Bairoch
(1982) has assembled historical statistics of production (discussed in
Chapter 8). In 1750, Europe and North America contributed perhaps
25 percent of world industrial production and, by 1913, 90 percent
(probably a little less, as such statistics understate the production of
nonmonetary economies). Industry could be converted into massive
military superiority. Quite small European troop contingents and fleets
could cow continents and divide the globe. Only Japan, inland China,
and inaccessible, unattractive countries remained outside the empires
of the Europeans and their white settlers. East Asia then rebounded
and joined the select band of pillagers of the earth.
Western collective power had been revolutionized, as dichotomous
theories suggested. Societies were qualitatively better organized to
mobilize human capacities and to exploit nature, as well as to exploit
less developed societies. Their extraordinary social density enabled
rulers and people actually to participate in the same "society." Contemporaries called this revolution in collective power "modernization," even "progress." They perceived movement toward a wealthier,
healthier, and otherwise better society that would increase human
happiness and social morality. Few doubted that Europeans, in
their homelands and colonies, were inaugurating a qualitative leap
forward in general social organization. We may be skeptical, even
alarmist, about such "progress," but in the long nineteenth century
few doubted it.
The time span of change was short, major transformations often
occurring within single lifetimes. This was different from most structural changes described in Volume I. For example, the emergence of
capitalistic social relations in Western Europe had taken centuries.
People might experience some aspects of this (say, the commutation of
their labor services into cash rent or forcible enclosure of their land),
but it is doubtful if anyone comprehended the macrochanges under
way. By contrast, nineteenth-century macroprocesses were identified
by thoughtful participants - hence the emergence of the dichotomous
theories themselves, which were really just relatively scientific versions
of contemporary modernization ideologies.

Introduction

15

Increasing self-consciousness and reflectiveness bring feedback
effects. If social actors become aware of ongoing structural transformations, they may seek to resist them. But if, as here, transformations
enhance collective powers, they are more likely to seek to harness
modernization to their own interests. Their ability to do so depends on
their distributive power.
At first sight, distributive power also seems to have transformed
near the beginning of this period. Classes and nations appeared as
relatively novel actors in power struggles, generating the sociopolitical
events we call "revolutions." Volume I demonstrated that both class
and national organization had been rare in agrarian societies. Now, as
Marx, Weber, and others noticed, class and national struggles became
central to social development. Distributive power, like collective,
moved from particularism toward universalism.
Yet the results were curiously unrevolutionary. Consider the first
industrial nation, Great Britain. Many distributive power relations
found in Britain in 1760 were still there in 1914 - indeed, they are still
there. Where they have changed, the transition was usually under way
long before 1760. Henry VIII had introduced state Protestantism,
the Civil War confirmed it, and the eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries half secularized it. Constitutional monarchy was institutionalized in 1688; the erosion of the monarchy's powers, along with confirmation of its symbolic dignity, proceeded throughout the eighteenth,
nineteenth, and twentieth centuries. Agriculture and commerce early
became capitalist; industry was molded by eighteenth-century commercial institutions, and modern classes have been absorbed into such
capitalism. The House of Lords, the two ancient universities, the
public schools, the City, the Guards, the London clubs, the administrative class of the civil service - all survive in power as a mixture of
the old and of the nineteenth century. True, genuine power shifts also
resulted - the rise of the middle class and of labor and the growth of
party democracy, popular nationalism, and the welfare state - but the
overall trend was less the qualitative transformation that dichotomous
theories envisaged than more gradual changes indicating the massive
adaptability of ruling regimes.
Perhaps Britain is extreme, in many ways the most conservative
European country; but we find many similar patterns elsewhere. The
religious map of Europe was settled in 1648, with no significant
changes appearing since. The Christian religion has been half secularized ever since. True, there were two great overthrows of monarchies
near the beginning of our period; but the American and French revolutions occurred before industrialization in those countries, and (as we
shall see) the French Revolution needed a whole century to achieve

16

The rise of classes and nation-states

rather more modest changes than it first promised, and the American
revolutionaries' Constitution rapidly became a conservative force on
later distributive power relations. Elsewhere capitalism and industrialism shocked but rarely overthrew old regimes - two sociopolitical
revolutions in France and Russia, compared to a host of failed ones
and of more limited reforms elsewhere. Old regime and new capital
usually merged into a modern ruling class in the nineteenth century;
then they made citizenship concessions that also partly domesticated
middle and working classes and peasantries. There has been even
greater continuity in the major non-Western capitalist country, Japan.
Perhaps I have been selective, downplaying genuine distributive
power shifts. But the opposite case, for a transformation in distributive
power - especially in the Marxian dialectical sense of opposites clashing
head-on in social and political "revolution" - seems implausible.
This also seems true for power distributed geopolitically. States became nation-states but continued to rise and fall while a few remained
to contest the leadership over many centuries. France and Britain remained contenders from the medieval period right through this period,
whereas the success of Prussia, the emergence of the United States,
and the decline of Austria were more novel. The post-sixteenth
century trend toward fewer, larger Powers was actually slowed by the
Industrial Revolution (Tilly 1990: 45-7). The Industrial Revolution
privileged the nation-state over the multinational empire and it privileged those states with large economies. We shall see, though, that
these trends also depended on noneconomic power relations.
There is one main exception to the surprising continuity of distributive power. Power relations between men and women began a rapid,
even revolutionary, transformation during this period. I have briefly
described elsewhere (1988) the end of "patriarchy," its replacement by
"neopatriarchy," and then the emergence of more egalitarian gender
relations. The simplest indicator is longevity. From the earliest prehistoric times until to the end of the nineteenth century, men outlived
women, by about five years over a life span of thirty to forty-five years.
Then the discrepancy was reversed: Women now outlive men by five
years over a life span of seventy years, and the differential is still
widening (Hart 1990). I have abandoned my original intent to focus
on gender relations in this volume. Gender relations have their own
history, currently being rewritten by feminist scholarship. Now is not
the time to attempt grand synthesis - although I shall comment on
the connections among gender, class, and nation during this period.
Except for gender, however, distributive power was transformed less
during this period than theoretical tradition suggested. Classes and
nation-states did not revolutionize social stratification.

Introduction

17

Some sociologists and historians have remarked this. Moore (1973)
argues that political development was affected more by older landholding patterns than by industrial capitalism. Rokkan (1970) distinguishes two revolutions, the national and the industrial, each generating
two political cleavages. The national revolution involved center-periphery and state-church conflict, the Industrial Revolution brought
land-industry and owner-worker conflicts. Rokkan unravels the revolutionary dichotomy into a complex combination of four struggles, earlier
ones setting down parameters for later ones. Lipset (1985) believes
variations in twentieth-century labor movements were caused by the
presence or absence of earlier feudalism. Corrigan and Sayer note the
durability of the British ruling class - its "supposed reasonableness,
moderation, pragmatism, hostility to ideology, 'muddling through,'
quirkiness, eccentricity" (1985: 192ff.). Mayer (1981) argues that
European old regimes were not swept away by industrialism: Only
by perpetrating World War I and by overreacting to socialism by
embracing fascism did they ensure their demise.
These writers make two points. First, tradition matters. Neither
capitalism nor industrialism swept all away but were molded into older
forms. Second, these writers go beyond the economy, adding various
political, military, geopolitical, and ideological power relations to
modes of production and social classes. Their arguments are often
correct. Later chapters draw from them, especially from Rokkan, who
perceived the significance of national as well as class struggles.
Nonetheless, distributive power relations were altered. First, classes
and nations could not simply be ignored or repressed by old regimes. To
survive, they had to compromise (Wuthnow 1989: III; Rueschemeyer,
Stephens, and Stephens 1992). But national struggles also entwined
with classes, thus changing all power actors, not "dialectically," systemically but in complex ways often having unintended consequences.
Second, the traditional rival power organizations of classes and
nations - segmental or sectional and transnational or local-regional were not eliminated but transformed. Loose networks controlled particularistically by old regime notables became more penetrative notable
and clientalist political parties, keeping class parties at bay. Armed
forces tightened from loose confederations of regiments "owned"
by great nobles or mercenary entrepreneurs to modern, professional
forces imposing highly centralized line and staff controls and discipline.
The Catholic church buttressed its transnationalism with greater localregional mobilizing powers to organize decentralizing power against
the nation-state. All such organizations transformed the relations
between regimes and masses.
In sum: Economic transformation was not singular but multiple;

18

The rise of classes and nation-states

collective power was revolutionized; most forms of distributive power
were altered but not revolutionized; traditional dominant power actors
survived better than expected; and power actors were aware of structural transformations but these were extremely complex. All of this
carries implications for a theory of social change.
Social change: strategies, impure entwinings, unintended
consequences

At the beginning of the period occurred three revolutions, all surprises
to their participants. Britain's Industrial Revolution, initiated by Adam
Smith's "hidden hand," was intended by no one and would have
astonished Smith himself. Second, British settlers in America stumbled
unintentionally into the first colonial revolution. Third, the French old
regime was surprised by a political revolution intended by few of its
participants. Power actors now debated whether further revolutions
were repeatable or avoidable. Colonial revolutions are outside the
scope of this discussion, but I do consider industrial and political
revolutions.
Industrialization had been hard to initiate but was easy to imitate
and adapt, provided some commercialization existed already. The
successful adaptors ranged across Europe from northern Italy and
Catalonia to Scandinavia and from the Urals to the Atlantic, and across
America and Japan. Regimes strove to maximize profits and minimize
disruption. Industrialization was adapted according to local traditions.
Political revolution was the opposite, seemingly easy to initiate, difficult to imitate - once old regimes were alerted to its dangers. The
revolutionary program could be modified: Regime and emerging power
actors could choose or drift between modernization paths placing differing emphases on monarchical rule, the rule of law, economic
liberalism, democracy, and nationalism. Half-conscious incorporativerepressive strategies ensured varied nonrevolutionary patterns of
development.
Thus traditions were neither overthrown nor merely reproduced.
They were modified or amplified according to clashes between "regime
strategies-drifts" and the strategies-drifts of emerging classes and
nations. By "regime" I mean an alliance of dominant ideological,
economic, and military power actors, coordinated by the rulers of the
state. These rulers, as we see in Chapter 3, comprised both "parties"
(in Max Weber's sense) and "state elites" (in the sense used by elitist
state theory). They sought a modernizing alliance to mobilize the
emerging powers of classes and nations, or the state would fall to
internal revolt or foreign powers. Regimes generally have greater 10-

Introduction

19

gistical capacities than do those down below. However, their resilience
depended on their cohesion. Party factionalism in an era of rising
classes and nations encouraged revolution. I term their attempts to
cope with the challenge of emergent social classes and nations "regime
strategies." Not all regimes possessed them, and even the most farsighted found themselves buffeted by complex politics into different
tracks of which they were not wholly conscious. Thus most power
actors drifted as well as schemed - hence strategies-drifts.
At first, almost all regimes ran along a continuum between despotic
and constitutional monarchy. T. H. Marshall (1963: 67-127) argued
from the British experience for a three-phase evolution toward fuller
citizenship. The first involved legal or "civil" citizenship: "rights necessary for individual freedom - liberty of the person, freedom of speech,
thought and faith, the right to own property and to conclude valid
contracts, and the right to justice." British civil citizenship was obtained through a "long eighteenth century," from 1688 until Catholic
Emancipation in 1828. The second phase obtained "political" citizenship, comprising voting and participating in sovereign parliaments,
over the century from the Great Reform Act of 1832 to the Franchise
Acts of 1918 and 1928. The third, twentieth-century phase secured
"social" citizenship, or the welfare state: "the right to a modicum of
economic welfare and security to ... share to the full in the social
heritage and to live the life of a civilized being according to the
standards prevailing in the society."
Marshall's theory has excited considerable interest in the Englishspeaking world (the best recent discussions are Australian: Turner
1986, 1990, and Barbalet 1988). Two of his types of citizenship turn
out to be heterogeneous. Civil citizenship may be divided into individual and collective subtypes (Giddens 1982: 172; Barbalet 1988:
22- 7). As we shall see, although most eighteenth-century regimes
conceded individual legal rights, none yielded collective organizing
rights to workers until the end of the nineteenth century or even
until well into the twentieth. (See Chapters 15, 17, and 18.) I also
subdivide social citizenship (Marshall's "sharing in the social heritage")
into ideological and economic subtypes - rights to an education,
allowing cultural participation and occupational attainment, and rights
to direct economic subsistence. Through the long nineteenth century,
ideological-social citizenship was attained by all middle classes (see
Chapter 16), but economic-social citizenship remained minimal (as
Marshall noted; see Chapter 14). Citizenship developed varied forms
and rhythms, some of which undercut others. Citizenship perhaps has
not been as singular a process as Marshall argues.
Moreover, as I have already (1988) argued, Marshall's evolutionism,

20

The rise of classes and nation-states

neglect of geopolitics, and Anglo centrism can all be faulted. Let us
begin by asking a simple question: Why should classes - or indeed any
other power actor - want citizenship? Why should they consider the
state relevant to their lives? Most people had not hitherto. They
had lived amid predominantly local or regional power networks, as
influenced by transnational churches as by the state. We shall see that
through wars eighteenth-century states enormously increased their
fiscal and manpower exactions, caging their subjects onto the national
terrain and thus politicizing them. Thus classes flexed their growing
muscles on politics instead of concentrating as traditionally on fighting
other classes in civil society. This "militarist" phase was then followed
by other encouragements of the caged nation: office-holding disputes,
tariffs, railways, and schools. As states transformed first into national
states, then into nation-states, classes became caged, unintentionally
"naturalized" and politicized. The nation was vital to citizenship (as
Giddens 1985: 212-21 recognizes). We must theorize national as well
as class struggle.
There were actually two citizenship issues: representation and the
national question of who is to be represented and where. Where turned
on how centralized and national or how decentralized and confederal
the state should be. Despotism might be fought by decentralizing
the state onto local assemblies, while linguistic, religious, or regional
minorities normally resisted the centralized nation-state. 3 Enlightenment modernizers believed the two issues went together: the future
belonged to representative and centralized states. Later evolutionary
theorists like Marshall believed the nation-state and national citizenship were inevitable. Indeed, most Western countries today are centralized, representative, and citizen nation-states.
But such "modernization" has not been one-dimensional or evolutionary. The Industrial Revolution did not homogenize; rather, it
modernized disparate regime strategies. The boost to collective powers
provided by the revolution could be used by any regime - party
democratic or despotic, centralized or confederal - to amplify its initial
characteristics. Outcomes depended on both domestic politics and geopolitics. So did the undoubted overall movement toward the centralized
nation-state. Regimes competed, flourished, and perished according to
domestic class and national power struggles, diplomatic alliances, wars,
international economic rivalry, and ideological claims resonating across

3

Turner (1990) rightly criticized my neglect of religion and ethnicity in my 1988
essay. I now seek to remedy this by taking seriously the national question.
Turner also criticized my emphasis on ruling class at the expense of lower-class
strategies. This volume considers both, but continues to stress the former.

Introduction

21

the West. As Powers rose, so did the attractiveness of their regime
strategies; as Powers declined, so their strategies disintegrated. One
Power's successful strategy might then change subsequent industrialization. German semi authoritarian monarchy and greater American
centralization were both partly the result of war. They then fostered
the Second Industrial Revolution, the large capitalist corporation and
state regulation of economic development.
Finally "impure entwinings" also muddied contemporaries' perceptions. Thus I edge away from "strategies" - from cohesive elites
with transparent interests, clear vision, rational decisions, and infinite
survival. Ideological, economic, military, and political transformations
and class and national struggles were multiple, entwined, and developing interstitially. No power actor could comprehend and take charge
of all this. In acting they made mistakes and generated unintended
consequences, changing their very identities below the level of consciousness. The whole was a nonsystemic, nondialectical process between historically given institutions and emergent interstitial forces.
My IEMP model can confront and then begin to make sense of this
mess; dichotomous theories cannot.

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Barbalet, J. 1988. Citizenship. Milton Keynes: Open University Press.
Corrigan, P., and D. Sayer. 1985. The Great Arch. Oxford: Blackwell.
Foucault, M. 1974. The Order of Things. New York: Pantheon.
1979. Discipline and Punish. London: Allen Lane.
Giddens, A. 1982. Profiles and Critiques in Social Theory. London: Macmillan.
1985. The Nation-State and Violence. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Hart, N. 1990. Female vitality and the history of human health. Paper presented to the Third Congress of the European Society for Medical
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Forthcoming. Life Chances and Longevity. London: Macmillan.
Landes, D. 1969. The Unbound Prometheus: Technological Change and
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Lipset, S. M. 1985. Radicalism or reformism: the sources of working-class
politics. In his Consensus and Conflict: Essays in Political Sociology.
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McKeown, T. 1976. The Modern Rise of Population. New York: Academic
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Mann, M. 1986. The Sources of Social Power. Vol. I, A History of Power from
the Beginning to A.D. 1760. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
1988. Ruling class strategies and citizenship. In my States, War and Capitalism. Oxford: Blackwell.

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The rise of classes and nation-states

Marshall, T. H. 1963. Sociology at the Crossroads and Other Essays. London:
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Mayer, A J. 1981. The Persistence of the Old Regime. London: Croom Helm.
Moore, B., Jr. 1973. Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy.
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Parsons, T. 1960. The distribution of power in American society. In his
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2

Economic and ideological
power relations

It became conventional in the eighteenth century - and it has remained

so ever since - to distinguish between two fundamental spheres of
social activity - "civil society" (or just "society") and "the state."
The titles of this chapter and the next would seem to conform to
that convention. Though Smith, other political economists, and Marx
meant by "civil society" only economic institutions, others - notably,
Ferguson, Paine, Hegel, and Tocqueville - believed it comprised the
two spheres discussed in this chapter. For them, civil society meant
(1) decentered economic markets resting on private property and (2)
"forms of civil association ... scientific and literary circles, schools,
publishers, inns, ... religious organizations, municipal associations and
independent households" (Keane 1988: 61). These two spheres carried
vital decentered and diffused freedoms that they wished secured against
the authoritative powers of states.
Yet, such a clear division between society and state carries dangers.
It is, paradoxically, highly political, locating freedom and morality
in society, not the state (obviously Hegel differed in this respect).
This was so among the eighteenth-century writers resisting what they
saw as despotism, and it has recently been so again as Soviet, East
European, and Chinese dissidents sought to mobilize decentralized
civil society forces against state repression. Yet states are not as distinct from the rest of social life as these ideologies suggest. Volume
I showed that civil societies had first risen entwined with modern
states. This volume shows that through the long nineteenth century,
civil society became more substantially, though far from entirely, the
province of the nation-state. This had implications for both economic
and ideological power relations, and this is the central theme of this
chapter. Thus the actual text of this chapter and Chapter 3 often
refutes the separation implied by their titles.
Economic power: capitalism and classes