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Hans Holbein the Younger, The Ambassadors (1533). Wealth, diplomatic statecraft, and the instruments of global extraction, and the specter of imperial decay.
Note
to Readers: This is Part II of a comprehensive structural analysis of
the US-led empire’s defining geopolitical doctrine. If you missed Part I,
where we diagnosed the structural decay of the imperial core, traced
the historical shift from direct colonial occupation to the engineered
“physics of state collapse,” and established why the empire views large,
autonomous states as an existential threat—you can read it here.
In this concluding part, I formally outline the five-step operational
sequence of the Fragmentationist Grand Strategy. We will explore how
shattered states are captured via the “Reconstruction Trap” and how
intact states are subjected to forced “re-compradorisation”—often in
conjunction with peace, ease of sanctions or sieges, or ceasefire talks.
If you value this kind of independent,
structural analysis of global power, consider subscribing below to
receive future deep-dives directly in your inbox.
The Fragmentationist Grand Strategy — Named
Across
three decades, US interventions have followed a highly predictable,
structurally determined sequence or “behavioral pattern” to put it
differently. This is the operationalization of the Fragmentationist
Grand Strategy, unfolding in five distinct steps:
Identify:
Target a large, autonomous state whose scale, geopolitical position, or
sovereign infrastructure constitutes a structural threat to
unipolarity. Or identify a potential consolidation of several states as a
structural threat for similar reasons.
Contain:
Encircle the target geographically with military bases and economically
with maximalist sanctions regimes. In the case of smaller states, it is
mostly about trying to contain from within.
Subordinate the Periphery:
Systematically peel away the target’s regional allies, trading
partners, and buffer zones through bilateral coercion, or actual kinetic
coercion or intelligence operations.
Fragment:
Induce a severe fiscal crisis to degrade the central state’s coercive
capacity, creating a vacuum that allows the empire to arm and elevate
peripheral or ethno-sectarian insurgencies, shattering the state from
within. This only works if the state’s coercive capacity is, in fact,
centrally organized. And it only works if the social-political cohesion
is not as strong.
Absorb: Integrate the weakened fragments into the hegemonic security and financial architecture.
It is this final Absorb
step that requires the most careful analysis, because imperial
absorption today does not mean formal annexation or even absorption into
some kind of US-led multilateral institution. Rather, it operates along
two distinct tracks, depending on the condition of the target state:
The Reconstruction Trap (For Shattered States): For states that have been successfully shattered by kinetic war or fiscal collapse or both, absorption operates through conditional reconstruction.
This is achieved by installing financing mechanisms through a
clearinghouse (financial intermediary) positioned strictly outside any
single sovereign authority. By leveraging debt conditionality,
programmable money, digital identity infrastructure, and Western
accreditation standards, the empire ensures that the compliance
architecture outlasts the initial financing. It becomes a permanent
system of governance that requires zero administrative burden from the
imperial core—a model currently being blueprinted for Gaza via the
proposed “Board of Peace.”
Re-compradorisation (For Intact States):
For states that have not been physically destroyed but are drifting
toward a parallel multipolar architecture, absorption operates without
the acute crisis phase. Decades of neoliberal integration have
cultivated domestic class fractions whose material interests are
inextricably tied to US market access and dollar clearing. In these
cases, the empire utilizes tools like the tariff threat or other types
of financial or market acess threats, often in combination with military
threats. The tariff does not create a new
vulnerability; it reactivates an existing one. It weaponizes the
domestic financial class against its own state, forcing
“re-compradorisation” and converting what could be collective,
South-South resistance into capitulation, one state at a time.
This
five-step sequence is the empirical record of the post-Cold War era. It
is clearly visible in the 1990s balkanization of Yugoslavia, the
ongoing fracturing of Syria and Libya, the aggressive containment of
Russia, and today, Operation Epic Fury’s kinetic attempt to permanently
dismantle Iran.
Why a “Grand Strategy”?
Why,
then, designate this as a “Grand Strategy”? Because what we are
observing is clearly not a series of reactive, ad-hoc policies. It is a
coherent operational logic that meets three rigorous criteria: doctrinal continuity (tracing an unbroken line from the 1992 Defense Planning Guidance to the 2026 National Security Strategy), personnel continuity (sustained by the revolving door connecting think tanks, the Pentagon, and defense contractors), and structural reproducibility (the exact same operational sequence applied across vastly different geographic theaters).
Yet, if this is a Grand Strategy, why has it never been formally named as such?
Primarily,
it remains unnamed because it is structurally unspeakable within an
international legal system ostensibly premised on sovereign equality and
territorial integrity. Academically, International Relations scholars
tend to silo their analyses, examining only isolated pieces of the
puzzle—a sanctions regime here, a proxy war there. Politically, naming
the strategy is also radioactive; doing so explicitly exposes the
ideological amalgamation that connects US imperial planners with
ethno-nationalist blueprints. Its very absence from mainstream discourse
is evidence of its pervasive normalization. To borrow an old adage, the
foreign policy establishment does not see the strategy because they are
the fish swimming in the water.
Admittedly, this veil of
unspeakability is beginning to slip. Driven by a new wave of critical
scholarship, and amplified by the blatant openness of the current Trump
administration on these matters, there is a growing public
acknowledgment that the norms of sovereign equality and territorial
integrity have been functionally discarded. There is also a much wider
recognition of the radicalized, ideological elements currently operating
within the transatlantic ruling strata and their proxies.
However,
because we are still embedded in the chaos of this interregnum, the big
picture often remains obscured. So, don’t get me wrong, I am not naming
this a “Grand Strategy” because it exists as a single, bound master
plan locked in a Pentagon vault. I am naming it as such because it is a ingrained, structural behavioral pattern of a crumbling empire. It is an emergent historical logic that acts, looks, and destroys exactly like one.
The Formula and Its Implications
We can summarize the driving formula of this strategy this way:
Scale + Autonomy + Geoposition = Structural Rival Order → Fragmentation as the logical response.
To
fully grasp this formula and its implications, we must historicize the
economic engine of this crumbling and vanishing empire.
Nineteenth-century British colonialism extracted tribute
directly from formal colonies without compensation, allowing the empire
to maintain global dominance without running massive deficits. The
twenty-first-century US hegemony, however, lacks formal colonies. It funds
its pointillist empire of over 900 military bases entirely through
debt, relying on the enforced global monopoly of the US dollar to
extract global wealth.
In short, under traditional
colonial conditions, the drive for tribute produced territorial
occupation; under post-colonial and post-Cold War conditions, it
produces fragmentation. Any state (or consolidation of states)
possessing the scale and autonomy to bypass the dollar system—to trade
in local currencies, protect its own resource wealth, or anchor a
parallel financial architecture—poses a fatal, structural threat to the imperial balance of payments.
The systemic response cannot be direct occupation (which is
prohibitively costly), nor can it be peaceful competition (which allows
the rival order to consolidate). It must be
fragmentation: shattering the target state (or consolidation of states)
to either forcibly extract its resources as modern tribute, or
neutralize its economic gravity by rendering it fundamentally unable to
function.
This formula yields several implications:
First, the regime type or domestic ideology of
the target state (or states) is effectively irrelevant; its sheer size
and multidimensional autonomy (financial, infrastructural, and
energetic) are the criteria that matter. Even though, multidimensional
autonomy in and of itself signals a total ideology different from the
transatlantic ruling strata.
Second, the strategy is inherently self-defeating.
By weaponizing finance, supply chains, and global energy flows, the
empire organically forces the Global Majority to build the exact
parallel economies the US-led empire fears. The strategy perpetually
generates its own enemies, birthing ungovernable, radicalized zones out
of the ashes of shattered states, while pushing those who simply fear
becoming the next target into defensive blocs.
More precisely, the weaponization of dollar clearing forces every targeted (and observant) state to build financial autonomybefore it is strictly needed—accelerating the development of CIPS, the petroyuan, bilateral settlement protocols, and BRICS payment mechanisms. Maximalist sanctions accelerated
Iran’s integration into China-Russia supply-chains. The unprecedented
asset freeze on Russian central bank reserves did not collapse the
Russian state; it accelerated de-dollarization across the entire Global
Majority sphere. The strategy actively manufactures and accelerates the
rival architecture it was designed to prevent.
However, this self-defeating dynamic operates asymmetrically. It is self-defeating for the host state (or host states)
executing the strategy: its military stockpiles are depleted, its
industrial base is hollowed out, its fiscal space is compressed, and its
domestic social safety net is slashed. Yet, it is not necessarily
self-defeating for the sovereign capital class
that uses this state (or several states) as its blunt enforcement arm.
This transatlantic elite simply migrates its financial architecture
beyond the declining host state, securing its wealth in governance
vehicles held in personal capacity and entirely outside sovereign
jurisdiction (as seen with the privatization and reconstruction
instruments deployed for Ukraine and planned for Gaza).
Divide et Impera?
At this point, one might ask: is this not just classic divide et impera
(divide and rule)? The distinction is precise and vital. Classic
divide-and-rule (such as the British strategy in India) was designed to
produce administered fragments within a formal empire. Fragmentationism, by contrast, produced unadministered fragments within a hegemonic system.
The
fragments do not need to be governed, rebuilt, or administered by the
hegemon; they simply need to be too weak, too unstable, and too consumed
by internal conflict to ever exercise autonomy or anchor a rival order.
As superficial hegemony erodes, this logic becomes more adaptive.
Depending on a fragment’s specific geostrategic value, the empire will
actively transition certain zones out of chaos and into administered
nodes—captured and managed through undeclared, transatlantic financial
and security frameworks. In other words, the Fragmentationist Grand
Strategy (FGS) operates on a typology based on whether the empire’s goal is to deny the space or absorb it.
For strategically valuable fragments—those
sitting on vital corridor routes, energy chokepoints, or lucrative
reconstruction markets—the mess is merely transitional. These fragments
are eventually offered the “clearing house”: conditional reconstruction
financing that installs a permanent Western compliance infrastructure
while the debtor state ostensibly governs itself. The permanent,
unadministered mess and the bureaucratically absorbed node are simply
two outcomes of the same logic, applied based on the specific strategic
valuation of the territory. Now, with the caveat, that denying might
also be a step before absorbing and specifically when the step of
absorbing cannot be completed by the transatlantic ruling strata.
We
can see this operational flexibility clearly by contrasting Syria and
Venezuela. Neither fits a simplistic “fragment” template, which is
precisely what makes them so useful for understanding how this strategy
adapts.
Syria was a large, strategically located state holding
immense geopolitical value: a Silk Road hub, a guardian of Levantine
basin gas, a guarantor of Russian naval access, and the critical land
corridor for the Resistance. The US/Israel/Gulf axis calculated that the
functional destruction of Syria—turning it into a contested,
ungovernable space—was vastly preferable to leaving a stable, defiant
state intact. The resulting “ruler” today (HTS/al-Jolani) does not
represent a consolidated sovereign; rather, it is managed chaos with a
thin lid on it. This is an example of functional fragmentation without
formal, legal break-up.
Venezuela, conversely, represents a different application of imperial force. It is a mid-size state that the US wanted to flip,
not fragment, precisely because of its massive oil reserves.
Traditional regime change preserves the physical resource-extraction
infrastructure; fragmentation would destroy it. Thus, the US power
elites aim for controllability. Fragmentation is the brutal fallback
option deployed when controllability through a compliant regime proves
impossible, and when the primary strategic value shifts from extracting
the resource yourself to simply denying the resource and the geography to your rivals.
We
can therefore map the Fragmentationist Grand Strategy across a specific
operational matrix. Depending on the target’s scale, resource
endowment, and geopolitical proximity, the crumbling empire selects its
method of intervention accordingly:
Target: Large, resource-rich, potentially rival-aligned states.
Imperial Logic: Deny the geographic space and resources to multipolar “rivals”, accepting unadministered chaos as a strategic victory.
Target: Mid-size, resource-rich, potentially flippable states.
Operation: Regime change / Constant coercion.
Imperial Logic:
Preserve the state’s physical extraction infrastructure, but install
compliant elites to manage it, or likewise coerce ruling strata to
become compliant.
Target: Large, rival-adjacent blocs.
Operation: Prevent consolidation / Tie to the US order.
Imperial Logic:
Sever any organic regional integration through enforced security
dependence, institutional capture. Or likewise implement any of the
above tools: regime change, constant coercion, kinetic operations,
fragmentation, functional destruction.
In
pure imperial theory, the overarching goal across all three of these
categories would be the creation of perfectly compliant states that have
been rendered small and weak enough to be easily managed by “shallow
influence.”
However, theory rarely survives contact with
systemic decay. In reality, this strategy does not work as flawlessly
because the US-led transatlantic elite suffers from two fatal limitations:
they are materially depleted within their respective host states, and
they are operating under ideological blindness and consequently,
misinformation and miscalculation. It is precisely this friction—between
the empire’s rigid geopolitical ambitions and its collapsing material
and epistemic capacity—that generates these outcomes rather than the
compliance it originally sought.
From Ideological Equilibrium to Pure Extraction
To fully grasp why this strategy accelerated so violently after 1991, we must recognize a structural shift in the nature of imperial power. During the Cold War, the presence of a rival ideology
(state socialism) forced a tense but stable geopolitical equilibrium.
Because the conflict was framed as a systemic clash of models, the US
was structurally compelled to maintain alliances, actively rebuild
Europe, and at least superficially adhere to international institutional
frameworks in order to prove the superiority and legitimacy of its
system.
During this era, the US mostly preferred traditional regime change and the cultivation of stable client states over
outright fragmentation. Korea was divided, but along rigid Cold War
fault lines rather than by unilateral US design. Vietnam was kept
divided for as long as possible, but the overarching imperial goal was
always a stable, controllable state. The US functional elites actively avoided creating chaotic vacuums for a simple reason: the USSR could potenatially fill them.
With the fall of the USSR, that ideological restraint vanished.
The necessity for equilibrium evaporated, revealing a naked unipolar
logic of pure extraction, exploitation, and coercion. Without a rival
ideology to contain, the US empire no longer needed to legitimize itself
through international frameworks—frameworks it now routinely bypasses,
violates, or ignores entirely. The geopolitical arena defaulted to a pre-1914 scenario:
a raw, unrestrained economic contest over resources and supply chains.
In this landscape, the crumbling empire sheds any pretense.
While
significant fragmentation occurred at the Cold War’s immediate end
(with the dissolution of Yugoslavia, the USSR, and Czechoslovakia), the
post-Cold War era is when fragmentation became a deliberate, systemic
strategy. We see this unbroken operational lineage in Iraq (from 2003
onward), Libya (2011), Syria (2011 onward), Somalia (which began earlier
but was violently intensified), and Sudan (partitioned in 2011). There
was no longer a USSR to fill the vacuums, no need for the discipline of
ideological containment, and essentially, no US capacity—or will—to
rebuild what it had broken.
Therefore, the Fragmentationist Grand Strategy is historically specific to the unipolar-to-multipolar transition,
roughly spanning from 1991 to the present. During the Cold War, the US
needed stable clients; during the brief post-Cold War “unipolar moment,”
it could afford to simply destroy and leave; today, facing re-emerging
rivals, it must use fragmentation strategicallyto actively prevent rival consolidation.
Europe
serves as the ultimate case in point. The prevention of European
consolidation with Russia has been a consistent Mackinder/Brzezinski
imperative: a unified Eurasia would equal
the end of US primacy. Or at least it would have been one of the avenues
to do so. In this light, NATO expansion into the former Soviet space is
the structural fragmentation of potential Eurasian consolidation. Each
small state incorporated into NATO is a puzzle piece permanently removed
from any rival regional order. Therein, each energy supply chain
severed functions for the same aim.
This is not classic divide et impera
aimed merely at weakening a single enemy. This is the Fragmentationist
Grand Strategy at its core, specifically engineered to prevent the
emergence of a continuous, integrated geographic space that could
eventually, as it creates a rival order, challenge the US-led empire.
Distributed Enforcement
To
fully grasp the mechanics of the Fragmentationist Grand Strategy (FGS),
there is another vital distinction of note we need to make: the
imperial host state (or host states) and the transatlantic ruling strata
are not the exact same entity. Even though a part of these power elites
can be part of the states’ institutions. Consequently, the FGS does not
rely on a single military instrument commanded by a single sovereign
government. Instead, the heavily financialized transatlantic ruling
strata utilizes the militaries and private contractors of a myriad of states as its distributed enforcement arm.
For instance,
within this architecture, Israel functions as a semi-autonomous
enforcement node. Its institutional fusion with US-led strategy is both
ue to its ideological overlap, but also due to an operational division
of labor. Similarly, Gulf state militaries operate as coordinated
sub-instruments, a role cemented by the fact that their massive
sovereign wealth funds are invested in the empire’s financial
architecture. Furthermore, we must account for the “financial
military”—the weaponization of SWIFT exclusions, central bank asset
freezes, and secondary sanctions. This invisible military requires no
troops at all, yet it can systematically degrade a target state’s
coercive capacity over years without a single physical deployment.
This distributed, transnational nature explains a glaring anomaly in modern diplomacy:
why all major current conflict negotiations are being conducted
simultaneously by informal envoys lacking formal institutional or
democratic mandates. They are operating on behalf of a kind of “clearing house”
framework. State differently, this framework is about an overarching
transnational financial regime consisting of Western central banks, the
IMF, Wall Street platforms among other institutions, that dictate global
dollar settlement, debt restructuring, and conditional reconstruction
financing. This framework relies on what we can call an hybrid intermediary class (think Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner).It
is made up of technocrats, informal envoys, think-tank strategists, and
private consultants who straddle the permeable boundary between
transatlantic sovereign capital and national political classes. They act
as a transmission belt.These operators serve to
compile pre-existing financial conditions and demands into working
settlement terms and actionable state policy. (Besides, they
do all of this capture and financialization while officially talking
about ceasefires, peace, and the easening of sanctions.)
The imperial ruling strata-relate division of labor, thus, can be summarized as, on the one hand, the host state providing the military enforcement; and on the other hand, the sovereign capital class providing the financial architecture; and the operators providing the compilation and negotiation.
In this arrangement, the costs and benefits are quite asymmetric. The US state (and other allied or proxy states) absorbs all the costs—military depletion,
weapon stockpile drawdowns, and catastrophic reputational damage—while
the transatlantic financial layer collects the lucrative returns on the
resulting reconstruction and debt-servicing. This parasitic symbiosis is
the absolute crux of the system. Moreover, it explains exactly why the
current US political class is so brazen with its own stock market gaming
and financial speculation. The politicians are personally benefiting
from the chaos, acting as willing junior partners who nominally
represent the state, but in effect serve sovereign capital. Here, the US
military (along with its proxy and vassal militaries) is an instrument
of last resort, not the primary tool of first instance. Its depletion is
a tragic cost borne by the US citizenry, not by the sovereign capital
class that profits from the reconstruction that such depletion makes
possible.
However, this distributed enforcement
architecture is now buckling under immense structural pressure. Israel
is being rapidly depleted alongside the US. Gulf militaries are strictly
theater-specific and lack the capacity to substitute for
industrial-scale global force projection. The “financial military” is
being deployed at such a reckless speed that it has become
self-defeating, forcing the Global Majority to actively de-dollarize.
Finally, the domestic re-industrialization that would be required to
physically rebuild the US enforcement arm runs on a decade-scale
timeline—a timeline that available compensatory strategies simply might
not be able to cover.
This brings us to the ultimate contradiction. Sovereign capital’s own operational logic—four decades of unchecked financialization, global labor arbitrage, and debt-financed state operations—has systematically degraded
the very industrial, demographic, and fiscal base from which its
military enforcement arm was built. The transatlantic ruling class is
now facing the accumulated, material consequences of its own wild
success. In short, the strategy is eating itself.
The Engine of Sabotage
The
FGS-framework allows us to assemble the seemingly disparate pieces of
the current geopolitical puzzle. Why does the US frequently and
seemingly prefer failed states over stable, non-compliant allies? Why
was and is Russia systematically excluded from European security
architectures? Why is European strategic autonomy actively sabotaged by
Washington? Why does the exact same personnel write strategy papers for
both the US and Israel? And why does every major US intervention since
1991 repeat a similar arc of state dissolution?
The answers lie in the structural decay of the imperial core itself. The US has heavily de-industrialized, offshoring the basic and enabling industries required to maintain a productive economic pyramid. Specifically, domestic productive capacity and the enabling industries (machine tools, capital goods) required for military production have been diminishing.
It simply lacks the industrial capacity to out-compete a rising
multilateral order through infrastructure and development. Furthermore,
the US ruling strata are ideologically uninterested in engaging in a
peaceful competition over the quality, quantity, and speed of societal
development.
Possessing only a financialized, rent-seeking economy and a “baroque,” inherently corrupt military-industrial complex, the US cannot build a competing global architecture. The baroque nature of the US arms economy is reflected in how it produces capital-intensive, high-cost, low-transferability
weapons systems that absorb investment without actually generating
productive spillovers for its own economy. Therefore, its only remaining
competitive advantage is sabotage.
One might ask:
why not simply accept and manage this imperial erosion peacefully? Why
not coexist with other sovereign states and ruling strata? This is where
ideological blindness intersects with material desperation. A fragmented, perpetually unstable Eurasian landmass is the only
environment where a de-industrialized, financial hegemon can survive.
Creating a permanent “mess” ensures that rival orders cannot consolidate
(though, as established, certain strategic nodes will be selectively
absorbed and controlled).
We must not forget the macroeconomic baseline: because the US is the most indebted nation on earth, it must (in its own logic) forcefully extract resources
(like oil in Venezuela or the Middle East) to prop up the dollar. When
“shallow hegemony” fails to secure these resources peacefully, the US
deploys FGS to break large, autonomous states into weak, compliant
fragments and to stop others from consolidating. This allows their
resources to be looted without the massive cost of formally
administering them.
Moreover, the dollar’s supremacy requires absolute global dependency. If a stateis large and autonomous
enough to feed itself, fuel itself, and protect itself (e.g., China, or
a unified Russia-Iran-China axis), it does not need the Federal
Reserve’s swap lines or overpriced US-controlled LNG. Therefore, a
large, autonomous state is an existential threat to a financialized empire simply because it proves that life outside the dollar system is possible. As economist Prabhat Patnaik noted,
when the US aggressively sanctions large autonomous states, it
inadvertently forces them to trade with each other in local currencies.
To prevent this rival architecture from solidifying, the US uses FGS to
keep the Eurasian landmass violently fragmented, ensuring everyone
remains desperate enough to rely on the US dollar and the US military
umbrella.
Operating in the background for three decades, FGS is historically interesting in three distinct ways:
Structural Doctrine over Tactic: It elevates fragmentation from an opportunistic tactic (divide et impera) to a permanent structural doctrine applied to all large states that cannot be made controllable. (Let’s
not forget, however, that this is an emergent structural reflex rather
than a master plan. When an empire is cornered by historical forces, and
its institutional worldview is built entirely around coercion—rendering
every geopolitical problem a nail for its military-financial
hammer—fragmentation is simply the path-dependent reaction of a cornered
beast.)
Post-Cold War Specificity:
Cold War discipline required the US to maintain stable clients rather
than chaotic vacuums, precisely because the USSR could immediately fill
them. FGS is uniquely tailored to the post-Soviet landscape.
The Fusion of Chaos and Finance:
It fuses geopolitical fragmentation with energy-financial architecture,
ensuring that the chaos it generates simultaneously acts as a
rent-extraction circuit through dollar-denominated energy flows.
Notwithstanding that this strategy might only generate temporary
benefits while the global role lasts.
Its limits,
however, are equally clear. States with strong social cohesion,
institutional depth, and external support networks (such as Cuba, and
Iran thus far) can successfully resist the hollowing-out mechanism that Li’s sociological model describes. This means FGS does not produce universal fragmentation, but rather the selective fragmentation of the weakest links within any potential rival order.
Because
the US-led empire currently relies on fragmentation to survive, it
cannot allow the globe to stabilize. Peace and integration in Eurasia
mean the death of US financial hegemony. Therefore, FGS is locked into a permanent cycle of escalation,
deliberately dismantling the globalized capitalist market it originally
built. Its logical terminus is not a utopian world of liberal
democracies.
Its terminus is the Bunker State:
a global landscape of (some and partially) shattered peripheries,
compliant nodes managed through conditional debt and programmable
compliance, influenced and controlled from heavily fortified,
unassailable, securitized, and hyper-militarized imperial cores that are
entirely un-democratic, functioning merely as territorial nodes for
transnational sovereign capital. Outside of it lies the rival architecture that the empire’s own weapons-grade financial isolation forced into existence.
The Fragmentationist Grand Strategy is helping build the rival order
it feared. It actively accelerated its consolidation and its creation
of alternatives. Whether this parallel architecture consolidates into a
genuine alternative—one that does not simply reproduce the same extractive logic under different management—depends
entirely on whether its contender states can discipline their own
comprador fractions before those fractions repeat the
“hollowing-from-within” that transatlantic elites so heavily rely upon. (As well as on whether targeted countries can survive all types of coercion coming from this crumbling empire.) The
answer to that question is not yet known. And in the midst of this
interregnum, that uncertainty is the most honest conclusion this
framework can offer
What this essay has named is the story
of a crumbling empire whose traditional power has almost vanished, its
hegemony has been eroding with it, yet its global role has not. It is a
system that has crossed structural thresholds it cannot reverse; it is
still moving, still deeply dangerous, and still capable of pulling
others down with it, but it is no longer able to arrest its own
direction.
Giovanni
Arrighi, Adam Smith in Beijing: Lineages of the Twenty-First Century
(Verso, 2007), p. 384. The question is whether the Global Majority will
continue to surrender its surpluses to be weaponized against itself or
will finally use them to build genuine alternatives.
Closing Thoughts: The Interregnum Exists
As
we close this two-part essay, it is vital to explicitly name the
historical moment we are living through: the interregnum. Antonio
Gramsci’s original formulation applies here with clinical precision. We
are in a transitional phase characterized by three distinct dynamics:
The loss of hegemony:
The old order can no longer reproduce ideological or political consent
on a universal scale. At best, its capacity to manufacture consent has
itself become fragmented. In this degraded phase, even brazenly lawless
declarations—stripped of all moral pretense—can function as instruments
of hegemony-building. “Saying the quiet part out loud” paradoxically
builds a new, darker kind of reactionary consent among certain factions
who deeply respect the naked use of force and view the world through a
dichotomous machiavellian lens. That’s still hegemony, even only
factional and partial.
The retention of domination:
The old order still ruthlessly controls the coercive and financial
apparatuses. Since hegemony is fragmented, the use of force becomes much
more apparent and necessary.
Accelerated institutional crystallization: Competing orders are racing to lock in structural advantages before the transition completes.
When Gramsci spoke of the “time of monsters”
emerging during the interregnum, we must recognize that these monsters
are not solely creatures of kinetic force and violence. They are also
the technical and financial governance architectures designed to outlast
the very power that installs them. We typically think of imperial
erosion in terms of ideological and political hegemony. But there is a
third layer: infrastructural hegemony. This
is the power embedded in payment rails, procurement standards, and debt
conditionality. This infrastructure persists independently of whether
the enforcing ruling strata remain globally dominant. Therefore, it is
absolutely critical that any new multipolar order emerging from this
crisis successfully exits this institutional architecture.
I
anticipate that some readers will scratch their heads at this paradox.
How can the empire be simultaneously dying—plagued by military
overextension, the loss of soft power, de-dollarization, and ideological
blindness—while also successfully installing a
permanent governance architecture? The answer is that governance rails
do not need a living empire to function. The IMF conditionality
apparatus, the US dollar’s incumbency advantage in global trade
invoicing, NATO’s mutual defense commitments, the Western procurement
standards currently being hardwired into Ukrainian state
infrastructure—these are institutionalized coercive structures.
They will operate on autopilot long after the enforcing power weakens,
just as the IMF’s structural adjustment programs continued to hollow out
African economies long after the Cold War rationale for them had
dissolved. The architecture survives the architect. This is institutional inertia.
Last
but not least, I want to add that the crumbling empire is facing
several crisis. Internal and external. One I find quite interesting is
that the ruling class is competing amongst themselves, producing
incoherent policy. For example, the Trump coalition’s “energy dominance”
doctrine makes no sense as a coherent national strategy, but it is coherent as a fraction strategy
designed to benefit domestic fossil fuel extractivists against the
transnationally-oriented green-energy fractions. These fractures result
in policy contradictions: preaching energy dominance while maintaining a
structural dependency on heavy crude; waging financial warfare against
SWIFT users while developing a dollar-backed stablecoin for global
surveillance; expanding NATO while simultaneously threatening to
withdraw from it. Still, no matter the party and their disputes, the
overaching goal is to maintain or rather regain a position in the world,
to revive the unipolar order by destroying an emerging multipolar one.
Thus, whilethe empire as a coherent hegemonic project—one capable of organizing global consent—is failing, specific capital fractions within
it are doing well, actively using this systemic crisis as a historic
accumulation opportunity. The defense industry, the LNG exporters, the
reconstruction finance sector, the digital payment infrastructure
builders—these fractions are the beneficiaries of wars and
interventions. At least for now. Viewed through this lens, the Gaza
stablecoin concept is exactly the kind of
instrument a declining hegemony produces. Unable to maintain legitimacy
through consent, the empire turns to financial enclosure and digital
surveillance to maintain dollar-circuit discipline in spaces it can no
longer govern through soft power.
This form of
domination is being executed with the tools of the financial and tech
fractions rather than purely the tools of the militarist fraction. What
is replacing the old multilateral order is a crisis-management strategy for accumulation without hegemony (or partial hegemony):
maintaining dollar circuits and military dominance without the
ideological legitimacy that once made them appear natural and universal.
Historically, capitalism moving from hegemony to sheer domination is a
sign of profound erosion. And domination without consent is structurally
brittle and massively resource-intensive. Yet, what is being built in
this interregnum will not automatically disappear when the military
overreach becomes terminal.
Pattern recognition
After
all I have written here, please understand this essay as an exercise in
pattern recognition. I am not pretending to possess a crystal ball, my
speculations on future scenarios notwithstanding. The future will be
dictated by highly volatile variables: path dependency, self-fulfilling
prophecies, critical junctures, tipping points, and self-reinforcing socio-political dynamics that could lead to vastly different outcomes a decade from now.
I
am simply presenting the structural patterns I have perceived operating
beneath the surface over the last thirty years. Nothing less, and
nothing more. This framework might help you understand the world through
your own lens, which is naturally forged out of your own biography and
social environment.
Indeed, we must remember that an empire is, at its core, a social phenomenon.
As with all social phenomena, we are left with the eternal question of
structure versus agency. Are we—including empires and their social
fractions—blindly pushed by larger historical forces, or do we act of
our own accord? Can we even separate the two? Or is history a constant,
dialectical, and dynamic movement between the structure we inherit and
the agency we exert?
Whatever the case may be, I hope this essay finds you well in these trying times.
Addendum
These are the Notes that partly touch upon the topics discussed here:
As we conclude this two-part analysis, we must ask how the architecture of this interregnum is manifesting on the ground.
Where
do you see the “Reconstruction Trap” or forced “re-compradorization”
operating today? More importantly, are the states in your region
successfully building the institutional discipline and the social or
political cohesion needed to resist being hollowed out from within? Or
are they actively being absorbed into the finacialized compliance
architecture?
The terminus of this strategy is not inevitable.
Where do you see genuine South-South solidarity pushing back against
this structural fragmentation? Leave your thoughts in the comments
below.
To
analyze the interregnum—and to see accumulation with a partial and
fading hegemony where others only see chaos and blunders—requires
operating free from the think-tank and institutional filters of the
transatlantic core. This project relies entirely on independent support.
Your contribution fuels the rigorous work required to map the
Fragmentationist Grand Strategy, decode the “Reconstruction Trap,” and
expose the unelected layers building the Bunker State.
I am
deeply grateful to every paid subscriber. Your belief in this work
allows me to dedicate myself full-time to navigating this "time of
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Johannes Vermeer, The Geographer
(1668). The cartographer's gaze—measuring the globe for early European
commercial and colonial expansion—prefigures the structural
architectures of today.
Note to
Readers: Because of the length and structural depth of this analysis, I
have divided this essay into two parts. This is Part I, which diagnoses
the empire's current predicament, traces the historical shift from
classical colonialism to modern imperial fragmentation, and maps the
sociological "physics" of how the US-led system attempts to shatter
large, autonomous states.Subscribe below to receive Part II directly.
The
war on Iran has confirmed what most analysts already knew: the US-led
empire is in a process of falling. F-35s lost, THAAD radars destroyed,
bases evacuated. The dollar challenged by BRICS, yuan pricing, and
de-dollarization. Europe de-industrializing. The military picture is one
of overextension and depletion, and the strategic picture is one of gradual loss of unipolarity and hegemony.
This
essay argues that stopping there, at the diagnosis of a sudden
collapse, misses the architecture being installed during this interregnum. This empire is crumbling bit by bit and it is violently grabbing at everything within reach on the way down.
Because while the US bleeds in the Gulf, European capitals are signing
20-year LNG contracts with Washington that permanently sever their
energy connection to Russia. While Iranian missile cities survive
unscathed, a World Bank reconstruction fund
for Gaza is already operational, channelling every dollar of rebuilding
money through conditions its population had no part in setting. While
Ukraine’s sovereign bonds rally from 19 to 76 cents on peace speculation,
a €90 billion EU loan is embedding digital procurement standards and
regulatory frameworks into Ukrainian state infrastructure that will persist long after the last tranche is disbursed. While Iran’s central bank is cut off from SWIFT, a dollar-backed stablecoin is being designed for Gaza that traces every transaction made through it.
A
crumbling empire is, unfortunately, not an inactive one. It is one that
can no longer achieve its objectives through military force alone and
has therefore accelerated every other instrument it possesses.
This
essay names the strategy that has organized US grand strategy since the
end of the Cold War. It is a strategy now operating at great velocity
precisely because the empire’s traditional military and industrial
instruments are failing, hollowed out by the very financial ruling
strata that now rein supreme. This financial portion of this power elite
wield the military as an enforcement arm to violently shatter any
emerging autonomy. This strategy has not been named because it is
structurally unspeakable within an international system premised on
sovereign equality. But it is visible in every theatre and reproducible
across every context: from the attempt at the shattering of large
contender states, to the severing of global energy flows, to the
attempts at breaking the economic consolidation between the periphery
and the Eurasian region, to the attempts at fracturing rival ruling
classes through intelligence and market coercion. Most importantly, this
strategy is installing technical and financial governance rails that
will outlast the current phase of military intensification by years (or,
in dependency cases, by decades). Once embedded in payment,
procurement, and accreditation systems, these rails persist even when
the enforcing power weakens. (Unless we get a sudden global systemic collapse, as can happen in complex systems... but that’s a different scenario.)
Understanding fragmentationism
means understanding what is being built in the interregnum: a
governance architecture designed to outlast the states that created it,
operated by a ruling class that has no intention of vanishing alongside
it.
Empire Without Territory
Let’s start in the 1990s with the post‑Cold War moment. The question of the "end of history" emerged
out of this historical period. The ideological rival, state socialism,
had collapsed. NATO, the alliance supposedly built to contain the USSR,
should logically have disbanded once the threat was removed. Instead,
NATO kept expanding, launching forward operations and interventions more
aggressively than ever before.
At its most basic level, this occurred because the geographical expansion and networked consolidation of other countries inherently constitutes a threat to a US-led transatlantic empire whose entire premise rests on unipolarity.
Before we delve into this seemingly simple argument, which many will dismiss with, “Of course, this is just Divide et Impera”,
I want to preface all that follows with a clarification: I am not
arguing that the US-led ruling strata are following a literal, secret
blueprint called “Fragmentationism.” All of the documents presented
here, and the arguments that follow, rest on the premise that the empire
is responding to a historical, structural predicament
(the loss of shallow hegemony, rising contender states, declining
surplus, deteriorating energy efficiency, and military overextension).
Their responses simply converge on fragmentation as the operative logic.
The doctrines and white papers are consequences and symptoms of the
disease. When I write about a structurally emergent logic,
I am talking about a pattern of action that arises from the structural
position, interests, and constraints of a state formation; key actors
then rationalize, codify, and partially consciously pursue that pattern.
With that in mind, let’s document how this "size-as-threat" lens has been utilized by the US-led empire since the fall of the USSR.
Colonialism Without Formal Occupation
While
the current empire is the undeniable heir to previous colonial powers,
the mechanics of imperial control are not hereditary. They constantly
adapt to larger structural forces like resource availability, energetic
efficiency, dominant ideology, contender territorial entities, and
technological development. Thus, for the US-led empire, we see a shift
from traditional territorial conquest to what historian Daniel Immerwahr
terms a “pointillist empire.”
This
operational logic of controlling and influencing small points
throughout the globe lays the geographical groundwork for fragmentation.
As anthropologist David Vine has meticulously documented, the US ruling strata garrisoned the globe to control its strategic chokepoints and establish nodes of military-imperial containment.
This militarized footprint emerged to perpetuate the colonial mode of
dominance, allowing the empire to shed the massive administrative
burdens of direct occupation while maintaining a ubiquitous coercive threat—functioning, in essence, as a global Panopticon.
Beyond the material reality of military bases, historian Andrew Bacevich in his book American Empire (2002) identified post-Cold War administrations (Bush Sr., Clinton, Bush Jr.) as following a coherent "strategy of openness."
This was a project aimed at constructing a global imperium through
economic expansionism, the removal of barriers to trade and capital, and
the use of military force to overcome any resistance. Openness, too, is
about an empire without formal occupation; hegemony without direct control. Bacevich explicitly traces this ambition back to Woodrow Wilson:
“The
strategy of openness returns to the revolutionary project that
President Woodrow Wilson outlined during and immediately after World War
I: bringing the world as a whole into conformity with American
principles and American policies”
This is
the core formula of the US-led imperial project: global hegemony
achieved through a mixture of manufactured consent and latent coercion.
This dual architecture, both material and immaterial, dictates that host
nations cannot exist as sovereign equals; they are structurally
required to be compliant nodes.
Documenting the Imperial Logic
Having
outlined the crumbling empire’s characteristics in broad strokes, we
can now move from the structural framework to the primary sources
themselves. By the 1990s and early 2000s, the macroeconomic reality
was already set in motion. The US was financializing, its manufacturing
base was hollowing out, and the survival of the dollar depended
entirely on controlling global energy flows.
The job of the meso-level
(the strategists, planners, and paper-writers) is to look at that
structural imperative and translate it into a menu of actionable
policies for the maintenance of their empire. Drawing upon their
available ideological and institutional resources—neoconservatism, petrodollar logic, and military superiority (while it lasts)—they construct their strategic options.
In other words, these documents are the rationalization of the structural logic,
codifying and institutionalizing it. Indeed, because the US empire’s
logic is so incredibly rigid, planning 20 or 30 years ahead is quite
easy. They know the empire will never choose the path of peaceful
multipolar integration.
Preventing Large Autonomous Rivals
The
clearest documentary example of this post-Cold War threat
perception—the realization that territorial size and consolidation
equate to a structural threat—was codified in the 1992 Defense Planning Guidance. Written
by Paul Wolfowitz and I. Lewis Libby under Dick Cheney at the Pentagon,
this leaked document stated that the US must prevent any rival power
from dominating any critical region of the world, maintaining the
capacity to act unilaterally:
“The
third goal is to preclude any hostile power from dominating a region
critical to our interests, and also thereby to strengthen the barriers
against the reemergence of a global threat to the interests of the U.S.
and our allies. These regions include Europe, East Asia, the Middle
East/Persian Gulf, and Latin America. Consolidated, nondemocratic control of the resources of such a critical region could generate a significant threat to our security.”
Read
carefully, the core anxiety here is not ideological. Indeed, the
ideological rival had already disintegrated. The threat is structural:
any power, or coalition of forces, whose sheer size and resource wealth
could challenge US primacy and block imperial extraction is unacceptable. Within this unipolar framework, a rival’s actual ideology is incidental.
Which leads us to our next famous document. Zbigniew Brzezinski, the ne plus ultra transatlantic securitocrat, wrote in The Grand Chessboard (1997, p. 35):
“The scope of America’s global hegemony is admittedly great, but its depth is shallow, limited by both domestic and external restraints. American hegemony involves the exercise of decisive influence but, unlike the empires of the past, not of direct control. The very scale and
diversity of Eurasia, as well as the power of some of its states,
limits the depth of American influence and the scope of control over the
course of events. That megacontinent is just too large, too populous,
culturally too varied, and composed of too many historically ambitious
and politically energetic states to be compliant toward even the most economically successful and politically preeminent global power.”
Tellingly, Brzezinski admits that US hegemony is “shallow,” relying mostly on influence
rather than direct control. But if we follow this line of thought all
the way through, it undeniably leads to a specific conclusion: when
shallow influence fails against territorial entities that are simply too
large to be compliant, this hegemony-seeking system will necessarily
default to fragmentation. Stated
differently, this system has to shatter large entities into smaller
pieces so that its shallow influence can function once more.
On
the level of action, Brzezinski recommended cultivating Ukraine as a
separate entity, integrating Eastern Europe into NATO, and preventing
Russia from reconsolidating the post-Soviet space. Indeed, NATO did not
disband; instead, it absorbed Eastern Europe, ensuring Western, Central,
and Eastern Europe were locked firmly within the US-imperial sphere of
influence.
By 2016, Brzezinski himself acknowledged the
waning of the unipolar moment. He recognized that the US was no longer a
global empire and argued that Washington needed to divide Russia and
China—cooperating with one to contain the other—in order to preserve its
economic and financial superiority, admitting:
“While no state is likely in the near future to match America’s economic-financial superiority,
new weapons systems could suddenly endow some countries with the means
to commit suicide in a joint tit-for-tat embrace with the United States,
or even to prevail. Without going into speculative detail, the sudden
acquisition by some state of the capacity to render America militarily inferior would spell the end of America’s global role.”
This brings us to an interesting question: if NATO was expanding to secure a post-Cold War peace, why didn’t it simply include Russia?
While ideological and historical excuses abound in the policy
literature, one of the reasons is structural. Russia was excluded from
NATO explicitly because it is too large.
Take, for instance, a 1995 report from the National Defense University (James W. Morrison, NATO Expansion and Alternative Future Security Alignments, McNair Paper 40, p. 56), which stated plainly:
“Russia is too large. Russia is far larger than any other European member of NATO and admitting it to NATO would change the balance.”
Similarly, former US Secretary of Defense Harold Brown, who chaired a 1995 Council on Foreign Relations Independent Task Force (Should NATO Expand?), wrote bluntly on a transatlantic security paper that same year:
“Russia ‘almost surely will never become a NATO member; its size, geography, and history make it unsuitable as part of a transatlantic security organization.’”
But why is size so inherently threatening to this particular imperial architecture? Simply put: scale guarantees resources,
and if a massive state retains its political autonomy (treating its
population as its citizens and not an apolitical mass), it can block
imperial access to those resources. It can also generate adequate means
to defend itself (as Brzezinski foretold). Furthermore, if such states
successfully develop within their own sovereign financial and economic architectures,
they naturally exert a gravitational pull. Other nations will
inevitably want to cooperate with them. The result is the birth of a rival order—one that cancels unipolarity.
Honorable Mentions
While
a comprehensive history of US fragmentationism would require volumes,
several key documents, doctrines, and historical laboratories deserve
honorable mention. Though they span different decades and theaters, they
all point to the exact same structural logic: the crumbling empire cannot tolerate scale, and it manages that threat through engineered dissolution and fragmentation.
The Unipolar Genesis (Krauthammer to PNAC): The ideological opening for this strategy was articulated in Charles Krauthammer’s 1990 essay, The Unipolar Moment,
which declared a brief, unique window for the US to aggressively
reshape the international order before any rival could emerge:
“We
are in for abnormal times. Our best hope for safety in such times, as
in difficult times past, is in American strength and will - the strength
and will to lead a unipolar world, unashamedly laying down the rules of
world order and being prepared to enforce them.”
This ideology was operationalized a decade later in the Project for the New American Century’s (PNAC) Rebuilding America’s Defenses (2000). Drafted
by the very securitocrats who would soon run the Bush administration
(Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz), the document explicitly called for
maintaining US preeminence globally, expanding military basing
worldwide, and, critically, deter the rise of a “new great-power competitor.”
The “Middle East” Blueprint (Yinon to Wesley Clark): In West Asia, the blueprint for fragmentation is a matter of public record. It begins with the 1982 Yinon Plan,
which argued that Israel’s survival depended on fracturing the
surrounding Arab states (Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt) along
ethno-sectarian lines into weak, manageable statelets. This logic was
seamlessly laundered into US foreign policy via the 1996 Clean Break memo
and subsequently PNAC. This pipeline represented a neocon-Zionist
ideological amalgamation, evidenced by the exact same personnel drafting
strategy papers for both Likud and the Pentagon. A recent Byline Times
investigation documents
how the same network has reorganized under the Vandenberg Coalition,
advising the current Trump administration...on Iran. We see this exact
logic in US Army Lt. Col. Ralph Peters’ infamous 2006 "Blood Borders" map (proposing redrawn Middle East borders along ethnic and sectarian lines), and in General Wesley Clark’s disclosure of a Pentagon memo to "take out seven countries in five years."
Seen through this lens, Iran’s true crime is neither its ideology nor its theology; as the CFR noted in 1997:
“In Iran, the United States confronts a country with potentially considerable military and economic capabilities and
an imperial tradition, which occupies a crucial position both for the
Gulf and for future relations between the West and Central Asia. If Iraq
poses a clear and relatively simple immediate threat, Iran represents a
geopolitical challenge of far greater magnitude and complexity.”
and Pete Hegseth echoed in at the beginning of March 2026, most famously known as the “death and destruction from the sky all day long” speech:
“This is a big battle space with a lot of capabilities — that’s part of the reason why it’s such a threat to us.”
The Balkans:
Before West Asia, the Balkans served as the 1990s laboratory for this
strategy, borne out of a structural logic. The deliberate application of
economic shock therapy (as detailed in Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine) since 1980 “leading to the disintegration of the industrial sector and the piecemeal dismantling of the welfare state”,
paired with calculated military intervention, successfully dismantled
the multi-ethnic Yugoslav state. As a 2019 book by the name of “Balkanization and Global Politics”noted:
"colonial powers first balkanize the world and then politically and socioeconomically absorb the newly created zones through human exploitation and resource extraction."
Yugoslavia
provided the US-led securitocracy with a flawless template by
weaponizing peripheral nationalisms and leverage engineered fiscal
crises to shatter a non-compliant geopolitical bloc into easily
digestible, compliant micro-states.
European Subordination via NATO:
While Europe was not territorially fragmented, after all it consists of
smaller to medium-size countries, its absorption into NATO follows an
identical logic of structural severance. To prevent the emergence of a
consolidated, autonomous Eurasian pole, European strategic, financial,
digital, and energy autonomy had to be surgically severed from Russian
resources. As Christopher Layne documents in The Peace of Illusions (2006), US grand strategy since 1940 has consistently aimed at “extraregional hegemony,” the preemptive domination
of every major region to prevent the rise of any independent power
center, driven primarily by political-economic interests. Within this
framework, NATO expansion is the mechanism of capture. Political
scientists Rajan Menon and William Ruger (2020) explicitly argued that NATO enlargement ensured Europe remains a “strategic subordinate,” structurally dependent on Washington for its “security”, preventing “it from becoming a rival center of power either collectively or because one state achieves dominance on the continent.”
This reasoning was openly championed by US strategists as a tool for managing both Russia and Western Europe. A 1993 Foreign Affairspiece
by Ronald Asmus, Richard Kugler, and F. Stephen Larrabee outlined how
NATO expansion provided Washington with indispensable situational
control by ensuring that American military leverage would outweigh
European economic integration. Indeed, the center of Eastern Europe
would then fall on the United States, instead of, say, Germany or
France:
“Their views on security
issues closely coincide with those of the United States and other
Atlanticist members such as Britain, Portugal and the Netherlands. Their
inclusion in NATO would strengthen the Atlanticist orientation of the alliance and provide greater internal support for U.S. views on key security issues.”
The
urgency of this institutional capture was driven by the fear of
eventual Eurasian consolidation. In 1994, figures like Henry Kissinger,
Zbigniew Brzezinski, and former National Security Council official Peter
Rodman argued for rapid NATO enlargement precisely because Russia’s
post-Cold War weakness was viewed
as temporary. The strategy was to exploit this window to permanently
alter the geopolitical map. The NYT publicist William Safire crystallized this imperial opportunism in 1996:
“In coming decades, Russia—with its literate population and rich resources unencumbered
by Communism—will rise again. Its leaders will [pursue irredentist
goals] under the guise of protecting their ‘near abroad.’ The only way
to deter future aggression without war is by collective defense. And
only in the next few years, with Russia weak, do we have the chance to
‘lock in’ the vulnerable.”
By moving
aggressively to “lock in” the East, the US securitocracy achieved a
masterful, dual application of the Fragmentationist Grand Strategy: it
geographically fractured the post-Soviet sphere, while simultaneously
ensuring that the industrial and technological core of Western Europe
would not merge with the resource base of the East.
The Settler-Colonial Continuity:
Even though, I argue that fragmentationism emerges in its most pure and
open form after the fall of the USSR, at its deepest historical level,
it is the globalized reflection of the American settler-colonial
project. As scholars Patrick Wolfe and Glen Coulthard havetheorized,
settler-colonialism operates on a “logic of elimination” rather than
mere exploitation; it requires the absolute and continuous erasure of
native geopolitical and governance autonomy
to secure the land as a prequisite for capitalist accumulation. The
contemporary drive to secure unhindered operational space globally
dictates the fragmentation of any sovereign entity (whether a
conglomerate or a large state) that attempts to restrict the flow of
Western capital.
In other words: Scale + Autonomy + Geoposition = Structural Rival Order.
The mere capacity to be autonomous through the potential that a large territory brings,
to feed, fuel, finance, and defend oneself independently, to generate a
historical and collective memory, is the crime and is the threat. In
the next section we’ll see exactly why this fragmentationist logic
emerged so saliently for the US-led transatlantic empire that is
currently in a state of erosion.
A Continuous Colonial Logic: From Colony to Hegemony to Fragmentation
The
structural pattern of fragmentation is a direct continuation of the
colonial logic, manifesting in its current form due to several
intertwined historical developments:
The Historical-Structural Shift: The Untenable Colonial Mode
First,
the traditional colonial model, characterized by the direct control and
occupation of foreign lands and populations, became untenable just as
US functional elites were assuming the mantle of imperial leadership.
This transition was a historical-structural outcome. The rapid
development of global communications and transport technologies
accelerated formal decolonization processes and forged a highly
networked, globalized anti-colonial consciousness.
Further, by the
mid-20th century, the classical mode of direct territorial occupation
had become prohibitively expensive in both blood and treasure, largely
due to the proliferation of asymmetric military technologies that made
local insurgencies highly viable. Simultaneously, the post-WWII
international legal framework, anchored in the UN Charter’s codification
of sovereign equality and self-determination, made formal and open
imperialism legally and morally indefensible. For a superpower to
maintain hegemony in this new era, naked occupation was no longer an
option; it would instantly strip the hegemon of its perceived global
legitimacy.
Even before this mantle was passed to the US,
European colonial logic did not rely solely on elimination and naked
violence. It depended equally on an architecture of control: military
outposts, the “cultivation” of compliant colonized elites, and the
imposition of structural financial and market mechanisms. Through
targeted taxation, tariffs, and strict laws dictating what a colony
could develop or trade, the empire ensured that autonomy was severed and
active underdevelopment was enforced—dynamics masterfully detailed by
Walter Rodney and Rui Mauro Marini in their respective works on Africa and Latin America.
What changed in the mid-20th century was the fact that the sheer,
unapologetic visibility of these practices could no longer be sustained.
Capitalist
modernity still required open, extractable territories. Because the
empire could not rely on the visible, administrative machinery of the
19th-century colonial state to secure them, it was forced to adapt.
Indeed, the same legal frameworks, and the same technological
developments allowed this new heir of empire and colonization to control
and influence on a global scale the way it did—through “shallow hegemony.” (Though we must remember, hegemony, as Gramsci theorized, is always an alloy of both consent and coercion.)
The Hegemonic Mode and the Limits of “Indirect Influence”
As
the US ruling strata assumed the mantle of empire—primarily inheriting
it from the British in the decades following World War I, and
definitively after World War II—one of its first acts was acquiring
British military bases without operating them as explicit colonial
outposts. To resolve the contradiction of needing global reach without
formal colonies, the US transitioned to a hegemonic mode of global
management. Hence, instead of territorial colonies, it built a
pointillist empire of military bases. Instead of imperial governors, it
utilized alliance architectures (like NATO) to enforce strategic
subordination and facilitate transatlantic elite capture. It deployed
financial architectures (like the IMF and dollar hegemony) to ensure
capital extraction, and it relied on vast intelligence apparatuses to
act as mechanisms of shadow governance. This is the precise dynamic
Zbigniew Brzezinski conceded in The Grand Chessboard
when he described US hegemony as “shallow,” relying strictly on
“indirect influence” rather than direct control. However, Brzezinski
also identified the fatal flaw in this system:
certain states in Eurasia are simply “too large, too populous...
culturally too varied, and composed of too many historically ambitious
and politically energetic states to be compliant.”
Just as
in the traditional colonial mode, this hegemonic model’s financial and
intelligence instruments over time, actively cultivate a domestic class
fraction whose material interests are structurally aligned with
tranatlantic capital. This is a process of encroachment of private
capitalist forces on a contender state’s power monopoly via a hollowing
out from within; a foundational component of the “elite capture”
mechanism.
The transatlantic US-led ruling strata, and more
precisely, its financial sector that provides the financial framework
for this mechanism—what political scientist van der Pijl calls“finance capital” or “sovereign capital”—transcends
any single state. It is indifferent to nationality and treats
populations as anonymous, replaceable factors of production. Yet, it is
not “stateless” in the sense of being placeless: it is historically
constituted within a specific transatlantic social space, but it has structurally exempted itself from the political and civic obligations that such a space would normally impose.
The Logic of Fragmentation: Breaking the Target to Fit the Tool
The logic of fragmentation activates exactly at the point where this hegemonic mode reaches its limit. When Brzezinski’s “shallow” hegemony encounters an entity that is simply “too large to be compliant,”
it faces a potential threat to its order. And a structural crisis, when
these large entities deveop on their own. Because the empire cannot
revert to direct colonial occupation, and because it cannot intensify an
“indirect influence” that the autonomous state
has already rejected, it is left with only one remaining move. It must
alter the size of the target. To fit the tool of shallow hegemony, the
entity must be made smaller. Indeed, not only had more states been created after the Cold War, but with the introduction of the “fragile state”
concept after 9/11, the empire produced the fragmentation, then
legitimated its further and open intervention by naming the affected
state a "failed state."
Fragmentationism
is, in essence, colonial logic operating under conditions that strictly
prohibit the traditional colonial form. It deploys when the old
ideological and legal frameworks no longer serve their
purpose—specifically, when enforced underdevelopment has failed. When
these large, autonomous states successfully achieve technological,
military, and economic development, they do two intolerable things: they
physically block the Western financial class from accessing their
resources, and they act as new gravitational pulls for the consolidation
of a rival order.
These developments signal the undeniable
twilight of the US role as the undisputed unipolar hegemon. However, we
must understand a crucial distinction. Those at the helm of this
crumbling system may be forced to accept the loss of hegemony—shedding
the facade of global consent and reverting to pure, naked coercion—but
they absolutely refuse to accept the loss of empire and all that this
entails. (Even though one could argue, the US empire is no more, the US ruling strata still play a global role and won’t just give up.)
This brings us to the socioeconomic dimension of the threat. In Kees van der Pijl’s terms,
the contender state commits an additional, unforgivable crime: its
state class treats its population as a qualitative national asset. By
lifting its people out of anonymity and recognizing their particular
social identity, the contender state directly threatens the needs of
transatlantic sovereign capital, which structurally requires an
anonymous, infinitely replaceable, and exploitable labor pool:
“What
constituted the real challenge was the social protection extended to
their populations. Shielding these from the world market movement of
capital allowed autonomous forms of everyday life to develop, including a
democratic potential unacceptable to transnational capital.“
Sovereign
capital cannot tolerate this qualitative development at scale.
Therefore, the contender state does not merely anchor a rival
geopolitical order; it actively removes a massive population as well as
all material resources from the quantitative logic of capitalist
extraction, simultaneously serving as a dangerous, viable model for the
rest of the periphery to follow.
Targets of Fragmentation
The targets of this fragmentationist strategy are multidimensional. Most obviously, the strategy targets the territorial integrity
of contender states, seeking to shatter massive, cohesive nations into
weak, dependent, and mutually antagonistic fragments. Equally critical,
however, is the targeting of resource and energy sovereignty. By actively fracturing supply networks, trade routes, and logistical circuits,
the empire ensures that no alternative physical architecture is able to
consolidate. Both are expressions of the exact same logic: to survive, a
“shallow hegemony” requires entities that are too small, too disrupted,
and too dependent to anchor a rival order—whether that is achieved by
geographically breaking a country apart, or by physically severing its
vital supply chains.
A third target cuts across both the geographic and energetic domains: financial sovereignty. This is the capacity of a state to settle trades internationally, borrow independently, and invest without passing
through dollar-denominated clearinghouses (financial intermediaries).
By destroying this capacity (through sanctions, asset freezes, and trade
restrictions among other tools), the empire ensures that even a
territorially intact and resource-rich state remains structurally unable
to self-finance its own development or reconstruction (specifically,
after being targeted kinetically). Inducing
this state of financial paralysis is the prerequisite for the
transatlantic financial class to step in and dictate terms of surrender
that are structurally irresistible—when other tools have significantly
weakened the targeted state that is. Of course, the more such tools of
financial fragmentation are used, the more avenues of alternative
finacial mechanisms are constructed and worked out among targeted states.
A
fourth target operates through bureaucratic statecraft rather than the
acute crises of violently breaking territories or supply chains. This is
the targeting of South-South solidarity and interstate consolidation.
The empire actively seeks to destroy the collective bargaining power
that would otherwise allow peripheral states to resist bilateral
coercion. Through the intentional bilateral atomization of trade and tariff regimes—such as pitting Vietnam against Malaysia, or Indonesia against India, reducing or terminating cooperation
with China—fragmentation is applied not to physical territory, but to
political cohesion. Simply put, any organic cooperation or consolidation
between states (peripheral or not) that occurs outside the crumbling
empire’s frameworks is treated as a threat to be fractured. As with
almost anything, paradoxically or not, South-South trade has actually
grown tenfold over three decades and now represents over a third of
global commerce; according to UNCTAD (2025):
"South–South
cooperation is becoming more important due to both the rising share of
their trade and investment in global flows and the increasing importance
of South-South initiatives such as the BRICS, ASEAN and Mercosur."
Additionally,
even the enforcement of these financial tools is not uniformly
supported by all transatlantic ruling elite factions. As the US supreme
court ruling on tariffs and, for example, Belgian government’s protest in using frozen Russian assets, demonstrates.
Lastly, the ruling strata
of target nations are themselves subjected to fragmentation. The empire
actively fractures the domestic political cohesion of peripheral and
contender states by trying to capture a specific fraction of their elites—primarily
the financial and technocratic class. By binding the material interests
of this class to the transnational, transatlantic sphere, the empire
ensures the target state is hollowed out from the inside, managed by a
faction whose ultimate allegiance is to global financial architecture
rather than sovereign national development. (Paradoxically,
when this strategy escalates from financial coercion to outright
military intervention, the empire's plan often backfires since it is
typically militant factions and other social classes—not the compliant
financial elite—that gain influence in the targeted state.)
The Physics of State Collapse
As
we have established, the use of fragmentation as the tool of choice for
US-led transatlantic elites was born out of specific
historical-structural forces, compounded by the orientation frameworks
inherited from colonial legacies. While this strategy targets multiple
dimensions of a potential rival order—disrupting supply chains,
financial networks, and diplomatic alliances—the primary target remains
the large, autonomous state (such as Iran, China, or Russia). To
understand exactly how this imperial reflex is operationalized on the
ground, we must examine the mechanics of state collapse.
For this, we turn to the sociological modeldetailed by Jieli Li in State Fragmentation: Toward a Theoretical Understanding of the Territorial Power of the State (2002). Li provides a precise, sequential anatomy of how states break apart. The process begins with the induction of geopolitical strain—stoking
the animosity of surrounding states or external powers against the
target as well as through the disruption of financial, energy and other
supply lines. This external pressure triggers a severe fiscal crisis, which subsequently degrades the coercive capacity of the central state. The resulting power vacuum creates the perfect conditions for peripheral mobilization, leading to the fragmentation
of the state itself. The most crucial insight of Li’s work is that
pre-existing ethnic or cultural divisions do not, on their own, cause
fragmentation; rather, it is the decline of the central state’s coercive
power that allows these latent divisions to violently fracture a
territory.
Within what I call the Fragmentationist Grand Strategy (FGS), this sequence is engineered; geopolitical strain is deliberately manufactured
by the external actor. In every theater targeted by the US-led system,
this strain is engineered through maximalist sanctions, proxy funding,
and targeted military strikes. What’s more, the empire actively sustains the pressure even when the target state attempts to negotiate a peaceful off-ramp.
Consider
the recent diplomatic maneuvers surrounding Iran: when a potential
diplomatic breakthrough was announced by Oman’s Foreign Minister on
February 27, the very Western envoys ostensibly conducting the talks
immediately characterized it as a stalling tactic. By the following day,
a potential diplomatic resolution had been forcibly converted into a kinetic military escalation. This illustrates a vital mechanism of fragmentationism: the imperial operators (those diplomats that are not diplomats, rather financial operators of settlements) ruthlessly manage the exit doors. By
systematically blocking or sabotaging diplomatic resolutions, the
empire ensures that the target state cannot de-escalate the geopolitical
strain. They start the fire, and then, they barricade the fire escapes.
A
central pillar of this manufactured strain is the weaponization of the
US dollar. By controlling global dollar liquidity via the Federal
Reserve, the US holds a direct, coercive lever over peripheral
economies. Squeezing a large, autonomous state out of the dollar
system—through secondary sanctions and forced currency depreciation—is
the exact real-world application of the “fiscal crisis” step in Li’s
model. By deliberately inducing hyperinflation and starving the central
government of revenue, the US intentionally degrades the target state’s
coercive capacity (or at least hopes to do so). Indeed, this was exactly
what was hoped would weaken Iran’s government. (US
Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent had claimed that Washington engineered
a dollar shortage for that very aim, to cause street protests.)
Once the central authority is weakened, the empire can then actively
fund, arm, and support peripheral, ethno-sectarian mobilizations (something that has been confirmed for Iran, as well, the Trump administration sending weapons to protestors),
encouraging them to rise up and shatter the state from within. Plus,
let’s not forget the parallel cultivation of financial elites that might
support the empire’s actions somehow.
The Limits of Fragmentation: The Resilience of the Target
As
powerful as this imperial wrecking ball is, it has structural limits.
According to Li’s sociological model, fragmentation follows a sequence: Geopolitical strain → fiscal crisis → erosion of central coercive capacity → power vacuum → centrifugal forces fill the void.
However, cases like Cuba, and now Iran (so far), demonstrate that strong social and political organization
can absorb massive geopolitical strain without losing its coercive
capacity. The key variables determining survival are clear. First is legitimacy and social cohesion.
A state whose population has been mobilized around a genuine national
or revolutionary project—fortified by collective memory and a shared
history—is inherently harder to hollow out than a fragile rentier state
or a post-colonial patchwork (such as Libya or Iraq).
Furthermore, institutional depth is a vital bulwark. Cuba has survived over sixty years under absolute siege, while Iran has spent two decades preparing for this exact confrontation. Both have built state structures explicitly engineered to withstand maximalist pressure. External support networks—no
matter how subtle—also play a crucial role; economic and diplomatic
lifelines from China and Russia actively offset the empire’s engineered
“fiscal crisis” mechanism.
But perhaps the most
profound structural limit to Li’s ideal model is its assumption that a
state’s coercive apparatus is fiscally and territorially centralized.
Iran disrupts this assumption entirely. Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary
Guard Corps (IRGC) controls an estimated 30–40% of the domestic economy
through its own construction, energy, and logistics conglomerates. This
provides a parallel revenue base specifically designed to survive the
exact fiscal crises that transnational sovereign capital tries to
engineer. Furthermore, Iran utilizes a “mosaic” strategy of defense.
Its civil and military infrastructure, including distributed
underground networks, has been decentralized and engineered specifically
to withstand a strategy that relies on decapitating a central state.
Combined with a hardened socio-political cohesion, Iran represents the
ultimate anomaly: a case where Li’s physics of state collapse simply
cannot be triggered through the empire’s available instruments.
Lastly, we must examine a critical point of contention within the “geopolitical strain” phase: the weaponization of energy.
Because oil (and increasingly LNG) is the universal prerequisite
without which an industrial economy ceases to function, whoever controls
energy controls everything downstream. But there is a spatial-structural layer
that imposes another limit on fragmentationism: it is no longer enough
to merely control production (as in the classic Saudi petrodollar era).
An empire must also control, or deny, the flows—the pipelines, maritime chokepoints, LNG terminals, and shipping lanes.
Theoretically,
fragmenting states that sit astride these flows (such as Iraq, Libya,
Syria, and Iran) achieves two goals simultaneously: it denies multipolar
rivals a consolidated energy base, and it ensures that remaining flows
are routed exclusively through US-controlled or monitored channels. In
this sense, territorial fragmentation and global energy control are the
exact same move viewed from two different angles: fragmentation of the
state that would otherwise anchor the independent energy infrastructure of a rival order.
However, this strategy encounters a fatal paradox:
what happens when the targeted state itself physically commands that
key energy position and possesses the asymmetric capacity to disrupt
those very flows?
So, while the Fragmentationist Grand
Strategy remains the empire’s weapon of choice today, it is not
omnipotent. Its success or failure rests on whether the target state
possesses the socio-political organization to resist the hollowing-out
process.
Note: Because of the length and depth of this
analysis, I have split this essay into two parts. In Part II, releasing
this Thursday, I will formally outline the 5-step operational sequence
of this strategy, provide a typology of how it is applied differently
across the globe, among other points.
Addendum
These are the Notes that partly touch upon the topics discussed here:
As
we conclude this first part of the analysis, we must ask how this shift
from colonial occupation to structural fragmentation plays out in
reality.
Do you see the mechanics of this “physics of state
collapse” operating in your own geopolitical region? Are the signs of
engineered geopolitical strain—whether through dollar weaponization,
maximalist sanctions, elite capture, or the hollowing out of central
state capacity—visible in your local landscape? Or, conversely, do you
see the resilience we discussed? How are the communities or states
around you cultivating the social cohesion, resource autonomy, and
institutional depth needed to resist this pressure?
Share your
observations in the comments below, and join me this Thursday for Part
II, where we will map the exact five-step operational sequence of this
strategy and explore the crumbling empire a bit more.
To
map the mechanics of a crumbling empire, and to see a deliberate
strategy of fragmentation where others see only random, ad-hoc crises,
one must operate from a space entirely outside its logic. This project
relies on the freedom to research without the institutional filters that
mistake systemic organized violence for mere foreign policy blunders.
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