Today I gave that lecture at the Institute. They wanted “a neutral analysis of global financial realignments”. Neutral, indeed. As if any empire has ever tolerated neutrality.
Afterwards, over terrible coffee, a colleague asked: “Guido, do you really believe there’s a plan?”
I nearly laughed.
Belief has nothing to do with it. It’s structure. It’s architecture. I tried to explain (again) that finance is the scaffold of power: the City of London perfected it, Wall Street standardized it, and now they’re playing pivot games in Asia while telling everyone it’s “market liberalization.”
I told him to go read Hobson. Or better: Keynes — the man knew the con but helped engineer it anyway. The contradictions of empire wrapped in one economic adviser.
Of course, the polite nods. He’ll forget by tomorrow.
Walking home, I thought about my grandfather in Lazio, who didn’t trust banks, who buried lire in jars, who shrugged and said “lo Stato è un ladro.” The old man wasn’t wrong.
But it’s more than theft — it’s alchemy. Creating credit out of obligation, obedience out of debt.
I sat at the desk tonight, scratching this out, looking at the blinking cursor, listening to the wind from France.
I’m supposed to be revising that chapter on “War as Capital Investment,” but I’m tired of repeating myself.
Sometimes I think no one wants to hear it unless you wrap it in poetry or blood.
Maybe that’s why they always come back to Hitler. It’s easier to blame a monster than to study the machine that built him.
Anyway. Enough for tonight.
Tomorrow: back to footnotes, back to polite lies in academic seminars.