Wednesday, November 8, 2023

On Learning Chinese


In this blogpost I like to record events and experiences which have left a lasting impression. It is for that reason that most posts are on important books I’ve read and on places I’ve travelled to. I have occasionally written on experiences unrelated to those topics, such as the passing of a good friend, or the excitement of learning how to start and tend a fire. In this blogpost, I’ll write about my experiences of learning Chinese. It is my 5th language—Italian and English my first, and I learned French and Spanish later in life—and learning Chinese has been unlike the others for reasons I will now try to articulate.

 

While living in France and Spain, learning was accelerated by forming friendships with locals, many of whom could not speak English, and so in those countries, I never had to pay for language lessons. In contrast, learning Chinese while living in China’s economic capital, Shanghai, takes a great degree of conscious effort and investment because it is an international city where most can speak at least some English. For these reasons, it would be possible for me to live comfortably in the city without ever learning the local language (which is often the case among foreigners I meet). Of course, this would be unacceptable and something I would later regret.

 

I started learning on an app in November 2022, which involved 1 hour per day of listening to, and repeating, words and short sentences. Then, from late February to early May of 2023, I took a course at the university which entailed two 90-minute classes per week. During July and August of 2023, I paid for four 1-hour private lessons per week, a decision made because I spent that entire summer in Shanghai and had some extra time from not having to teach classes. And starting in September of 2023, I reduced the number of weekly classes to two, while practising several times a week with language exchange partners.  At the time of this writing (November 2023), I am at the HSK 3 level, which roughly corresponds with beginner-intermediate; I can now structure full sentences, and have conversations, about daily life—for example work, food, friends, weather, travel (while often making copious amounts errors in pronunciation and grammar).

 

As learners will inevitably discover, a unique feature of Chinese is the importance of tone. There are four, which roughly correspond with high, low, rising and falling. A change in tone of the same syllable produces a whole new meaning. This is one of the biggest hurdles for students because this structure is absent in other languages. Consequently, foreigners and especially Westerners must train their listening to spot patterns in shifts of tone, and developing this skill involves a lot of laser-focused listening and deciphering of the same sentences over and over again until the shifts can be detected.

 

It is also essential to train the tongue to pronounce sequences of sounds which do not exist in the other languages I speak. For example, 我们 可以从  间这路, which translates to “ we can start from the middle of this road and go up,” is pronounced "wmen kè yi cóng zhöng jiän zhe tiao lu shang qu.”  Try saying that very fast!  These kinds of sentences are tongue twisters because the phonetic sequences are alien to foreign vocal chords.

 

Another important feature is that Chinese is a very context-based language which means that meaning is often derived equally from the specific situations rather than from the sounds emanating from the speakers mouth. For example,  差不多 is pronounced "cha bu duo", and in one context means “similar,” in another this same pronunciation means “ending.”

 

It is essential to learn the Chinese characters. This is something I wanted to avoid because of the extra work and difficulty. There are around 50 thousand, and so it would be impossible at this stage in my life to learn them all. I’ve been told that 1500 are used in 90% of text, and memorizing them is in principle doable, but still: I have a busy schedule and so there are limits to the amount of time I can devote to studying Chinese. Nonetheless, it eventually became unavoidable, for several reasons. One is that I sometimes need to type and receive text messages in Chinese. Of course, I can use the translator, and I often do, but I also would like to read and type Chinese without the aid of technology. Additionally, learning the characters allows for a deeper understanding of the language, which of course has value in its own right. As of this writing, I’ve memorized several dozen, and so can type and read simple messages like “where shall we meet?”, “at what time?”, “let’s meet at the library.” By next year, I hope, I’ll be able to read full paragraphs.

 

It is a very metaphorical and hence poetic language, which accounts for the countless axioms and pearls of wisdom often expressed in pithy form. An example is 一叶知秋, pronounced "yí yè zhi giù," which translates to "the falling of one leaf heralds the coming of autumn," but which means "a small sign can indicate a great trend." 


Moreover, so many words I’ve learned seem to be creative combinations of several separate concepts. One of my favourites is “enthusiasm” 热情 which combines the characters for "hot" and "emotion." 

 

Another charming feature is how Western names become sinocized. My own, Filippo, is 菲利波 and pronounced "fe li bo." Madrid is 马德里 pronounced "ma de li"


Monday, November 6, 2023

The Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire

In the Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire, Edward Luttwak makes several useful contributions to scholarship on international relations, and to readers interested in the underlying dynamics of imperial politics, past and present. A key claim is that the Roman empire can be usefully divided into three distinct stages, loosely corresponding with expansion, consolidation, retrenchment. Each phase reflected an imperial strategy with a distinct hierarchy of priorities conditioned by various factors including Rome’s unsentimental and materialist culture, the ebbs and flows of Rome’s enemies, especially Parthia in the South and the German tribes in the North, and by the “economy of force”—defined as the available resources, men and infrastructures, necessary to carry out Rome’s will. Remarkably, readers learn, this “grand strategy” occurred despite Rome not having maps, or indeed any official documents which outlined systematic thinking about international relations.


To sustain this argument, Luttwak relies on several assumptions which, in my view, are quite sound. Perhaps the most important one is that, in discerning patterns of Rome’s imperial policy, we need to pay attention to what Romans did more than what they said. Looking only at the latter, for example, would be misleading because Roman writers often spoke with highfalutin rhetoric about their empire as being the apogee of mankind, and destined to reign forever. In reality, Luttwak shows, Roman officials were very pragmatic and utilized various techniques to achieve the two main objectives for inhabitants of the empire, security and prosperity. It was the effective provision of these two goods which ensured the obedience of Rome’s subjects, and cost-benefit calculations occurred among them as well. When the empire provided these valuable goods at an acceptable price, the system was stable, but when Rome could no longer secure their provision, or could only do so at an unacceptably high cost, its days were numbered, which is precisely what occurred. 

In this blog post, I will outline Luttwak’s account of Rome’s imperial strategy while endeavouring to distil insights relevant to the dynamics of international security and, more generally, to patterns of imperial politics in the present era.

Three systems

Rome, as we know, was a republic from 509 BC to 27 BC, and officially became an empire after the civil wars which began with the killing of Caesar and which culminated with Octavian’s defeat of Anthony and Cleopatra. Luttwak’s story, then, begins when Octavian, later named Augustus, became Rome’s first emperor. The first system, categorized by Luttwak as “Julio-Claudian,” roughly lasted from 27 BC to 69 AD, and was characterized by expansionism. Military spending under Augustus, who reigned for 45 years, was roughly half of total expenditures, and major conquests included Britain, and parts of Germany until the defeat in the battle of Teutoburg which put an end to Augustus’s attempt to conquer the North.

Augustus 

A key objective was to provide security to the frontiers of conquered territories, a necessary condition for prosperity and Romanization. However, the methods used to provide these goods were not homogenous across the vast expanse of the Mediterranean. In some provinces, Romans settled and established direct political control. In others, Romans relied on the client system; this latter is extensively analysed in The Grant Strategy of the Roman Empire because of how it supports the book’s main thesis. Many local tribes were acutely aware of Rome’s awesome military strength, and especially its willingness to crush recalcitrant or disobedient peoples (most dramatically illustrated by the siege of Masada). Rome strategically utilized this armed suasion to establish client relations with some tribes: the latter could provide security at the frontier in return for autonomy and various perks including citizenship and subsidies. From Rome’s perspective, this was a much cheaper way of establishing rule than sending legions to settle and pacify local peoples, and it allowed the allocation of precious resources to more troublesome areas, especially in the Western part of the empire. The client system allowed a very favourable “economy of force”—that is, the relation between military inputs (soldiers, settlers, infrastructures necessary for transportation and taxation) and outputs (security of the frontiers). 

Another effective device for maintaining security with a favourable input-output ratio of material resources was demonstrated by the status of Armenia as a neutral and buffer state.  This small country was sandwiched between two ancient great powers—Rome and Parthia—who periodically fought for supremacy between 54 BC and 217 AD. These wars, of course, were costly, and so both parties had an interest in peace, and one of the ways they secured this was agreement over Armenia’s status. Luttwak elaborates on the special and systemic character of a buffer state. It cannot be a great power, otherwise it itself would threaten the security of its neighbours, but its geographical location can potentially be used by competing great powers to threaten rivals. By agreeing to strict and enforceable neutrality, it reassures its powerful neighbours and, in so doing, lessons the sense of insecurity which is often the catalyst to war (as we will see below, this has important implications for the war in Ukraine, which at the time of writing this blogpost remains unresolved). 

The second system assessed by Luttwak in the Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire, called “Antonine,” lasted roughly from 69 AD to the 3rd century AD. Here, we see the fruits of the successful system built by Augustus and his immediate predecessors: shared prosperity and Romanization. During this period, Roman technology, culture, and wealth radiated outwards from the capital to the provinces and clients across the empire. The paradox of this development is that Rome’s enemies also adopted Roman knowledge and technology and, consequently, became more advanced in terms of political organization and military capacity. They now posed a greater threat than previously, when they were scattered and mostly illiterate barbarian tribes who often fought among themselves (divisions which Rome strategically exploited, of course). 

As Rome’s enemies became stronger, the cost of providing security to the frontiers increased, and the client system became less and less useful. Now, Rome had to commit more resources and especially soldiers, but also building extensive barriers which divided the empire from its enemies; Hadrian’s wall in Northern England is the most famous example. The economy of force was now less favourable in the sense that military inputs were directly proportional to military outputs. This system was sustainable, of course, as long as available resources permitted. But the crises in the third century including plague, internal strife, and economic recession put serious strain and began the process of the empire’s unravelling. 

This led to the third and final system in Luttwak’s framework, in which Rome was constantly on the defensive, because of the twin pressures of internal decay and decline and the increase in barbarian strength. Under these conditions, Rome could less and less provide the empire’s raison d’etre: security to citizens, an essential condition for their prosperity. Meanwhile, the capital still demanded payment of taxes to fulfil its fiscal needs. Here, the calculations of Romans especially in the provinces and frontiers were altered; their obedience and willingness to pay taxes depended on Rome’s provision of security and prosperity, and when it could no longer be provided at a reasonable price, they became more willing to accept the security provided by Rome’s enemies. The Western part of empire consequently slowly unravelled until its demise in the fourth century.

These three systems, argues Luttwak, reflected, as per the book’s eponymous title, “Rome’s Grand Strategy.” Many scholars may be sceptical about this argument, given the following considerations: first, the concept of grand strategy is a contemporary one, and it seems anachronistic to apply it to antiquity. Second, and related, is that there is little evidence in the narrative sources that Romans thought systematically about international relations in the manner posited by Luttwak. Third, Romans lacked maps which allowed them to precisely delineate their frontiers, an a priori essential condition for strategic thinking about imperial policy. 

Luttwak begins his response to these critiques by challenging common notions of strategy. For most contemporary readers, the concept conjures images of specialized officials in a capital’s headquarters engaged in elaborate and systematic theorizing about the various costs and benefits of different approaches; this eventually results in an agreement of the most optimal way to move forward, itemized in some official document which then guides decisions. Readers of the Grand Strategy are invited to consider a rather non-intuitive but plausible definition of strategy as a reflection of the decisions made during the struggle of adversarial forces, which is refracted through the lens of culture and constrained by the available resources. Applied to Rome, decisions about the provision of security depended on the character of her enemies; if they were strong and were a major threat, Rome would send the legions on the offensive and militarily crush them; if the threat was minor, such as border raids by small tribes, the client system was sufficient. 

Threats were interpreted through Rome’s pragmatic unsentimental, and materialist culture, where close attention was paid to the allocation of precious resources, and adjustments were made if required by circumstances. By looking at the changes in how Rome managed its frontiers, we can distil insights on the drivers of imperial policy, which reveals a calculating and systematic thinking which would be obscured if we looked only at the textual sources. To illustrate this tendency, Luttwak compares Rome to the empires of Alexander the Great and Napoleon; the latter two, unlike Rome’s, were very short lived-in part because of the egotistical expansionism of the two emperors. Alexander and Napoleon, both of whom sought glory and conquest as an end in itself, lacked the pragmatism that would have perhaps led to a greater sensitivity of the material costs and benefits of a particular action, and to better decisions on how precious resources could be optimally allocated in a way that ensured the security and hence stability of their conquests. 

Roman Emperors, of course, boasted and waxed philosophical about Rome’s eternal mission to civilize and rule mankind. The reality was rather different, which is why Luttwak invites readers to make conclusions about what Romans actually did more than what they said. This observation is sound and could usefully be applied to imperial politics in the present day. If one were to pay attention only to the official documents produced in Washington’s bureaucratic-military machinery, one may conclude that the capital’s policy is to spread liberty to all mankind. The reality is perhaps more prosaic: establish relationships with countries regardless of the regime, provided they support the empire’s goals. Moreover, although officials may develop official documents on strategy, decisions will always flow from the strength of adversaries. In the present system, for example, the rise of China, and Russia’s willingness to sacrifice blood and treasure to push back against NATO expansion, are interpreted through reigning cultural paradigm of decision-makers in Washington. Decisions on the management of the empire’s boundaries and zones of influence will also be conditioned by ideas on how to allocate scarce resources of military inputs (soldiers, infrastructures, etc). The clearest example of this was former president Barak Obama’s “pivot to Asia,” which aimed to redistribute precious resources away from the Middle East and towards the far East, and includes strategic use of Washington’s Asian allies (Australia, Japan), protectorates (Taiwan) and clients (Philippines), to counter the rise China. 

The example of Armenia’s status as a neutral and buffer state to keep the peace between Rome and Parthia has important lessons for imperial politics in the present era. As is outlined in the Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire, the benefits were manifold, including reducing the outbreak of costly wars between the two ancient great powers, and in so doing, allowing Rome to allocate more resources to more troublesome frontiers such as Britain and Germany. Readers cannot avoid seeing the uncanny parallels with the war in Ukraine. After the country’s independence from the USSR, it committed itself to strict neutrality, but this was overturned in 2014, when Victor Yanukovych was overthrown in a coup. It subsequently made a commitment to join NATO, a military alliance which is perceived as hostile in Moscow. Before Russia invaded in January 2022, president Putin proposed a return to neutrality, which, according to Jeffrey Sachs, was rejected by the US and subsequently Ukraine. It is for this reason that Sachs, and many other commentators, affirm that Ukrainian military neutrality, in the form a strict commitment to not enter NATO, is a condition for peace between Russia and the West. Evidently, such an outcome may be in Washington’s interest; if its goal is to contain or counter the rise of China, an optimal allocation of resources would include finding a peaceful settlement over Ukraine so that more can be allocated to the Asian theatre. 

It may seem remarkable that Romans could make the types of calculations assumed in the Grand Strategy of the Roman Empire without the use of maps, but Luttwak plausibly argues that they could establish their frontiers via other methods. In some parts of the empire, they built barriers which clearly established the boundaries of inside/outside, and Hadrian’s wall was the clearest example. Elsewhere, there were natural barriers which performed the same function, such as the Rhine and the Danube in Germany. Where there was a lack of barriers, natural or manmade, the names of local tribes or peoples, and their relationship to Rome (client, neutral buffer, settlement, etc) sufficed. Moreover, Rome’s elaborate construction of roads, on top of precise travel itineraries for travel and for official correspondence, added to their geographical knowledge. Together, these elements gave the imperial capital an abstract representation of the empire’s boundaries sufficient to make decisions adumbrated above.  

Ultimately, no amount of strategizing can overcome the twin dynamics of internal division and weakness, on the one hand, and the increased strength of geopolitical rivals on the other. But it can make the difference between the egoistical hubris of short lived empires and the longer lifespan of more pragmatic ones like Rome.