Geostrategic Media Political Commentary, Analysis, Security, Defense
Contrary to popular belief, colonialism did not end with the mid-century independence wave. Instead, it took on novel (‘neo’) and more subtle disguises such as financial institution control, labour exploitation and, perhaps most importantly, constant resource extraction. It is no secret that rare minerals are largely sourced from developing nations and ex-colonies, but the mechanisms, consequences involved in these operations are not public knowledge. Imperial conquest has been replaced with economic dominion; rather than ships of slaves in chains, it is ex-colonies and underdeveloped nations’ resources being removed by force.
From Oil to Rare Earths: The Multi-Resource Battlefield
The resources of interest in the 20th century were largely energy sources; oil, hydrocarbons, petroleum products, natural gas and the like – which have been pivotal in securing economic prosperity and global power since the advent of modern industrial capitalism in the 18th century. Over the last few hundred years, extraction of these resources led powerful European empires commit uncountable numbers of atrocities; from mass executions and burned villages in Burma to secure the Yenangyaung oil fields (1885), to collective punishment and air raids to access Mosul’s oil reserves in Iraq (1920). Despite the international normative codification of state sovereignty post-1945, this pattern continued unfailingly. While there may not have been troops on the ground, economic nationalist leaders (e.g. Lumumba in Congo, Allende in Chile) have been systematically removed to ensure favourable trade ‘deals’ with global powers. Resource control continues to be a major instrument in great powers’ foreign policy toolboxes, it simply does not call itself imperialism anymore.
In the 21st century, resource focuses have shifted from fossil fuels to rare minerals. This shift comes from a number of factors, including the green transition, the race for advanced weapons, and consumer demand for luxury technological goods. The green transition (a global focus on sustainability as negative environmental impacts of industrialism become undeniable) has created pressures for decarbonisation and electrification. Rare minerals (lithium, cobalt, nickel) are instrumental in creating ecologically-safe alternatives to our polluting consumption patterns – thus we see the rise of electric vehicles, low emission planes, wind turbines and so on, all of which require these rare mineral inputs. He who controls the cheap, sustainable alternative may ultimately control the future.
In an age of threatened sovereignty (e.g. Venezuela, Ukraine), armed violence (e.g. Sudan, Palestine) and domestic political divisions (e.g. ICE in the USA, Reform UK in Britain), states’ offensive arsenals are ever-expanding – and driving demand for rare mineral manufacturing inputs. Warfare is increasingly characterised by drone strikes, precision missiles and distance-operated weapons systems. Every single one of our innovative weapons relies pivotally on rare mineral supply chains.
Aside from environmental crises and global hostility, we are also contemporarily defined by overconsumption. The vast majority of the ‘developed’ world spends hours per day scrolling smartphones, working on laptops/ computers and using the internet. Our lives are increasingly centred around small rectangular screens, creating never-ending demand for the rare minerals needed to power them. Just like advanced weapons and sustainable energy sources, all of our technology is completely reliant on these mineral inputs. Every aspect of life in the developed world appears to hinge on continued access to these inputs. Just like the days of conquest, the metropoles must draw on the resources of the colonised peripheries to sustain never-ending domestic appetites.
The Paradox of Plenty and the Resource Curse
Thus far, we’ve been relatively vague about the players in the neo-colonial game. China houses the largest rare mineral deposits in the world – nearly half of the entire global supply. Africa as a continent is home to another 30% of the supply, with Congo alone storing up to 55% of the world’s cobalt. Chile contains the majority of our lithium and copper, Indonesia has the most nickel. Setting China aside for a moment, given that rapid industrialisation has propelled the nation to regional hegemon status, it is important to note that these resource-rich nations are financially some of the world’s poorest. Many causes can be attributed to this ‘paradox of plenty’, such as the ‘Dutch disease’: consistently high demand for a commodity, like rare minerals, driving up currency value and making other exports unaffordable, thus preventing economic growth. The paradox (or ‘curse’) could also be explained through over-reliance on primary commodity exports for economic stability; a lack of diversification leaves developing economies at the ‘mercy of the markets’ if there’s a sudden drop in commodity value. Economic homogeneity can also foster corruption and inequality if a few oligarchs are in control of resources.
However, I would suggest that these are secondary, reinforcing mechanisms that simply cement underdevelopment once it has already been established. Since the advent of industrial capitalism, the global economic hierarchy has been led by Western powers. Despite the end of formal colonialism, economic chains have never truly been loosened from conquered nations. Following independence from Belgium in 1960, Belgian mining corporations retained control of Congo’s precious deposits. When Lumumba attempted to nationalise these mineral assets and assert economic sovereignty, he was executed by the Belgian government and CIA. Backed by Western political and military power, Mobutu was installed as a ‘client’ ruler, catering to the economic demands of the West with favourable foreign mining contracts leading to domestic developmental stagnation. Today, Congo provides around 70% of the world’s cobalt supply, yet Chinese firms control extraction and processing – the only Congolose involvement is the exploitative use of its cheap labour. It is no currency misfortune or productive homogeneity ensuring Congolose deprivation, but consistent policy choices cementing uneven development.
Congo is far from alone in this phenomenon; neo-colonial resource extraction mechanisms can be observed in almost all of these ‘cursed’ nations of plenty. By the mid-1900s, US companies controlled nearly 70% of Chile’s copper, meaning there was not enough export revenue remaining in the nation to fund infrastructural investment or financial institution development – making the economy structurally dependent on externally-owned foreign extractive capital. When Allende nationalised the Chilean mines, he was overthrown by the CIA and replaced by the dictatorial Pinochet, who re-opened Chile to neoliberal ‘open’ trade and privileged foreign investor access. Indonesia follows the same pattern: Suharto came to power after a brutal US-backed military purge and bowed to Western economic demands. In exchange for an IMF bailout, he implemented extensive privatisation, subsidy removal and open mining. Chinese and Western firms now dominate processing while environmental costs are shifted onto citizens.
While we haven’t time to explore every example of this ‘green neo-colonialism’ (exploiting the Global South in the pursuit of Western decarbonisation), a pattern clearly emerges. Resource-rich nations become wise to the exploitation they are enduring post-independence and attempt to reclaim sovereignty, movement leaders are brutally removed, replaced with more amenable client rulers from the domestic compradore class, and trade ‘liberalisation’ (really subordination) invariably follows. In our pursuit of sustainability, we have reverted back to the imperialist practice of using subjugated peoples to achieve our domestic objectives.
The specific mechanisms by which foreign enterprises and governments are able to retain tight control over resources are varied and subtle. In the financial sphere, Western states can exert control through debt dependence/ conditional lending and monetary subordination. Regarding the former, IMF and World Bank loans are entirely conditional on fiscal austerity (empirically proven to be a damaging measure), privatisation (diminishing public service quality) and trade liberalisation (ensuring the monopolist primacy of foreign firms as their economies of scale enable them to crowd out domestic enterprise). In terms of monetarism, everything from debt value to commodity prices are dollar-based, meaning domestic producers are vulnerable to US interest rate increases and currency crises. The exact same is true of Europe. Fourteen African nations used currencies pegged to the euro and have foreign reserves held partially in the French Treasury; monetary sovereignty is effectively outsourced to ex-conquerors. This inequality persists economy-wide since bilateral and WTO trade agreements prohibit infant industry protections and export subsidies while gaining valuable commodity minerals at low prices. Aid is tied to political reforms, giving Western metropoles influence over electoral structures and domestic policy priorities – even domestic institutions themselves are generally controlled by Western-trained elites, ensuring fiscal conservatism and neoliberal reform become normatively accepted as ‘prudential’ governance.
Shifting Alliances and Geopolitical Reconfiguration
As the great powers of the world continue empire-esque resource extraction, we can observe the direct impacts of supply-chain manipulation on geopolitical developments. Given that the arrangements discussed ensure highly favourable trade terms, Western metropoles are able to source materials from ideologically-friendly neo-colonies, or, as we have seen recently with Venezuela, are able to install ideologically-friendly leaders. As such, this ‘friend-shoring’ allows supply chains to become security alliances in an increasingly polemical and militarised world; the EU-Japan vs China-Russia(-Iran) fault lines solidify on the global stage, and the USA takes a surprisingly lonesome turn, choosing to alienate longstanding European allies in favour of more ideologically-driven policy choices and more overtly imperialist sovereignty violations. African nations of ‘plenty’ may find themselves pulled in multiple directions as the EU pushes ‘strategic partnerships’ over resource extraction to rival Chinese investment dominance.
Returning to imperial form, we may see a reduction in the softer approaches of sanctions and trade restrictions to incentivise resource-rich nations to pick sides among the competing regional hegemons. pre-‘intervention’, Venezuela was granted relaxed sanctions in exchange for oil access. We may see similar utilisation of eased sanctions as a tool leveraged against the nations of natural plenty. Congo (cobalt, coltan, copper), Mali (gold, uranium, phosphates) and Sudan (gold) are among the African nations facing harsh economic sanctions, despite still being large mineral providers. If the patterns we have observed continue, it would be unsurprising to see sanction relaxation used as a negotiating currency, culminating in more sovereignty being conceded for economic survival. The first-mover metropolitan hegemon has an advantage in this scenario, being the first to secure unmitigated access to mineral deposits and thus gaining the ability to expand their offensive arsenal, invest in potentially-profitable renewable infrastructure and stimulate domestic growth with access to new technological innovations all at the same time, and all at the cost of the neo-colony.
The processing chokepoints of these minerals are also pivotal in determining the geopolitical impacts of these paradigms. China controls the majority of rare mineral processing, lithium refinery and battery component manufacturing; whoever refines the product inputs controls supply bottlenecks. Even if resource-rich nations are able to nationalise their deposits, dependence on Chinese processing maintains their control over prices, supply and the industrial competitiveness of rivals. One could argue that these processing chokepoints are an eerie parallel to colonial ports and naval routes in this new imperial infrastructure.
Conclusion
The alleged ‘return of empire’ is a multifaceted rebirth, driven by bids for global hegemony, the need to monopolise control on future sustainable infrastructure and the unending Western demand for advanced technology. Though colonialism’s face is new, its machinations have been seen before. Using a litany of sinister avesnues, Western metropoles still have their claws in ex-colonial economies, and still have the final say on the extent to which they can use their resources for self-determination and development. While Indonesia and Chile try ardently to diversify, to domesticate processing and to increase the role of the state, the basic colonial logic remains: capital immobility, technological monopolies and financial dependence still restrict sovereign autonomy.
A stable and equitable global system is unattainable when the playing field is permanently tilted. Conquest will continue to take newer and subtler forms, but will not go away until we confront some of the trickier underlying processes at hand, and some of the unaddressed failings of the ‘independence’ wave. The ‘veto’ power of some states in international organisations symbolises more than an entrenched seat at the table, it translates to real-world dominion – some states have the power to ‘manifest destiny’, others, it seems, may be doomed to simply fund others’ endeavours.
