(Note the weirdly Taoist point Henry Kissinger, of all people, makes about conservatism in the penultimate paragraph there.)
- Here’s Wittfogel (1955) on “Developmental Aspects of Hydraulic Societies,” with apologies for the shitey scan: https://www.columbia.edu/itc/anthropology/v3922/pdfs/wittfogel.pdf
- And here’s Said’s “Orientalism,” in all its glory:
https://monoskop.org/images/4/4e/Said_Edward_Orientalism_1979.pdf
See you tomorrow!
Having put to one side the problematic-in-the-bad-way material comparing the West to the “hydraulic” “Orient,” we are now free to resume the much more interesting conversation that takes us through the remainder of this division of the text.
This involves, again, the question of “striated” State space: “One of the fundamental tasks of the State is to striate the space over which it reigns, or to utilize smooth spaces as a means of communication in the service of striated space.”
This is almost straightforward for D&G. The truth of this proposition is, of course, easiest to see with respect to borders — what, after all, is a border but a line inscribed upon the Earth, cleaving one set of possible becomings from another? But it also holds up when we consider historical circumstances like the British Empire’s use of sea power, or the strewing of communication, reconnaissance, geodesy and positioning satellites across the various bands of Earth orbit. Let’s take up these
points one at a time.
Drawing lines is primary for a State: “It is a vital concern of every State not only to vanquish nomadism, but to control migrations and, more generally, to establish a zone of rights over an entire ‘exterior,’ over all of the flows traversing the ecumenon.”
I feel like “zone of rights” here refers to something more than the assertion of control over territorial waters, and tends more toward something like the Monroe Doctrine: the articulation of a sphere of influence.
And importantly, the State asserts the legitimacy of its claim in order to leverage whatever flows of matter, energy and information traverse the sphere of influence, and use them toward its own ends: “If it can help it, the State does not dissociate itself from a process of capture of flows of all kinds, populations, commodities or commerce, money or capital, etc.” So far, this doesn’t seem terribly different from the account one might be offered in any first-year IR class, right?
But there does seem to be a nuance in D&G’s understanding of the *means* of that capture that would probably elude the common-or-garden IR instructor: what they have consistently referred to as the “striation” of space via lines of all sorts: roads, paths, property claims, sea routes, orbits. Only the one cleaving Kashmir in two is explicitly named this way, but really all such lines are lines of control.
“There is still a need for fixed paths in well-defined directions, which restrict speed,
regulate circulation, relativize movement, and measure in detail the relative movements of subjects and objects.”
Here I think of D&G’s characterization of nomad movement as “vortical,” and the initial phase of the settler-colonial conquest of the American west, almost as if a gas whose molecules consisted of Conestoga wagons had diffused across a membrane at the western shore of the Mississippi, until it filled the entire space. And then the coming of the State on the back of stagecoach routes
and telegraph lines, and eventually the Transcontinental Railroad. The space becomes cross-gridded with these lines, and only once that has happened is the assertion of State power tenable.
And the State uses that power to regulate flows further. It becomes responsible for what Paul Virilio characterizes as “management of the public ways,” with distinct consequences for the *ways* in which matter, energy, information and people flow: “the gates of the city...are barriers, filters against the
“fluidity of the masses, against the penetration power of migratory packs.” For D&G, it “is not at all that the State knows nothing of speed” — which in their schema, recall, is an *intensive* quantity — but that “it requires that movement, even the fastest, cease to be the absolute state of a moving body occupying a smooth space, to become the relative characteristic of a ‘moved body’ going from one point to another in a strated space. In this sense, the State never ceases to decompose,
“recompose and transform movement, or to regulate speed.”
Here again we are confronted with a set of assertions that will quite probably drive the more literally-, physically-minded nuts. The point, firstly, depends on a teetering concatenation or cascade of Deleuzian definitions, which are not the same as those understood by the sciences. And in any event, it’s possible to think of quite a few — perhaps even too many — exceptions and counterexamples. Nevertheless, I think there’s still a good
deal of force to this conception of the State as regulator of all flows. The *real* question is whether anything that abstracts and captures flows, and breaks them to defined pathways, is becoming-State for D&G — because that could very well describe the entire domain of life.
Let’s let that question hang in the (smooth) air for a bit, and return to it tomorrow.
In the meantime, notes:
- The classic study of State use of smooth space is Mahan’s “Influence of Sea Power Upon History, 1660-1783,” and you can find that here:
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/13529/13529-h/13529-h.htm
- The meaning and implications of the Monroe Doctrine continue to be fodder for scholarly contestation. The proceedings of a recent, not particularly radical symposium on the topic will perhaps give you a flavor of some perspectives in the contemporary mainstream:
https://www.hsozkult.de/conferencereport/id/fdkn-138430
The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Influence of Sea Power Upon History, 1660-1783, by A. T. Mahan
- Here’s Wikipedia’s account of the Kashmiri Line of Control, which doesn’t at a glance contain any howlingly obvious partisan assertions: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Line_of_Control
- And here’s a piece exploring one of the ways in which State striation of the American West undermined other, preexisting lifeways, and eventually rendered them untenable. https://americanhistory.si.edu/explore/stories/TRR
Catch you tomorrow, for the next tranche of “Nomadology.” 👊

Line of Control - Wikipedia
Before we press on with “Nomadology,” I thought you might enjoy this interview with Autonomedia’s Jim Fleming, which covers, among other things, Autonomedia’s relationship with semiotext(e), the genesis of the Foreign Agents Series and Fleming’s support for Peter Lamborn Wilson:
https://www.novembermag.com/content/jim-fleming/
Jim Fleming
in conversation with Taylor Lewandowski, "I've been erased from the official history of Semiotext(e)."
Jim FlemingSometime, too, I’ll have to unpack what I’ve vaguely thought of as the “small multiples” theory of cultural production, which takes in the Foreign Agents series as well as a few other projects which have weighed disproportionately much in the course of my life – Metagaming’s Microgames, the Simple Machines 7” singles, etc.
https://www.blackgate.com/2014/11/28/the-roots-of-microgaming-the-classic-games-of-metagaming/
http://www.simplemachines.net/story.html
The Roots of Microgaming: The Classic Games of Metagaming – Black Gate
We’re back, with the aim today of wrapping up our consideration of the State and its relation to the spaces it superintends. Up until now, D&G have drawn for us a distinction between the State’s need to “striate” space, by subdividing it with control grids both literal and conceptual, and the nomad war machine’s ability not merely to make use of the smoothness of space but to make space smooth. And in concert with this distinction they offer a contrast between two styles of movement:
*relative movement*, i.e. that calibrated against the State’s striations, and *absolute speed*, which (as frustrating as it sounds) they define as a property of someone or -thing that has become deterritorialized, and which may even be expressed in complete stillness.
And we’re prepared to accept this is yet another in the series of binary oppositions they’ve offered since the beginning of the text, contrasting the conditions congenial to and produced by the State apparatus to those which
accompany and support the appearance of the nomad war machine. We’re told that each flashing appearance of a guerrilla force of any sort whatsoever makes space smooth wherever it occurs, and that the State’s response is invariably to attempt to overmaster such insurgencies by reimposing a striation. By now, though D&G occasionally caution us to look out for captures, encystments or inclusions, we’ve become sufficiently accustomed to these binaries that we could probably assert them in our sleep.
But here they throw us a curveball: “The situation is much more complicated than we have led on.” It turns out that we can’t simply assign certain kinds of space to one or another category — the sea in particular, which they’ve heretofore asked us to consider as something like the archetypal form of smooth space. And this is because “the sea is also, of smooth spaces, the first one attempts were made to striate, to transform into a dependency of the land, with its fixed routes, constant
“directions, relative movements, a whole counterhydraulic of channels and conduits.”
Well. Lots to say about this, including the notion that those very “fixed routes [and] constant directions” largely emerge from properties of the Earth system — haecceities! — of a sort that D&G have previously commended “following.” (Is a sea current other than a seam in a piece of stone?) But let’s accept that even the paradigmatically smooth spaces are indeed subject to attempts at striation. What of it?
The argument here seems to be that this is not the whole story: that in its attempts at reticulating smooth spaces, and subjecting them to regimes of relative moment, the State inadvertently propagates smoothness at a higher, still more global level. Such undertakings have “the most unexpected result: the multiplication of relative movements, the intensification of relative speeds in striated space, ended up reconstituting a smooth space or absolute movement.” The State, in fact, “brings back
“the smooth in the wake of the striated.” But *this* smoothness, this deterritorialization, is purged of its association with the opening to the liberatory outside that we’ve come to rely on the war machine to produce: “We say this as a reminder that smooth space and the form of exteriority do not have an irresistible revolutionary calling, but change meaning drastically depending on the interactions they are part of and the concrete conditions of their exercise or establishment.”
Frankly, I find this passage intensely frustrating. On the one hand, it’s useful to push back against the kind of lazy schematicity that would satisfy itself by observing “Striated = Bad, Smooth = Good.” But on the other, it’s irritating for D&G to establish these categories — which are, after all, theirs — and assert their importance, and then more or less immediately undermine their analytic salience. At the very least, some concrete examples would help the reader understand where they see
the moment at which the smoothness of space pivots from being a property of nomadic deterritorialization to something the State can leverage to further its own ends.
The only example that comes to mind for me immediately is the one we’ve already discussed: of the IDF’s appropriation of Deleuzian thought. In the words of IDF commander Aviv Kochavi: “This space that you look at, this room that you look at, is nothing but your interpretation of it...The question is how do you interpret the alley?
“We interpreted the alley as a place we were forbidden to walk through and the door as a place we were forbidden to pass through, and the window as a place we were forbidden to look through, because a weapon awaits us in the alley, and a booby trap awaits us behind the door. This is why we opted for the methodology of moving through walls...[l]ike a worm that eats its way forward, emerging at points and then disappearing.”
This conscious use of smooth space to accomplish the ends of the State
in its most brutally oppressive form should certainly be enough to convince us that there’s no necessary connection between deterritorialization and liberation. And if this is the case, then perhaps we may yet imagine some circumstance in which striation *does* conduce to a fuller and more broadly enjoyed freedom. I leave the identification of such a circumstance as an exercise for the reader, though I surely hope you’ll let me know what you may come up with.
Tomorrow we’ll resume our inquiry
by taking up the text’s Proposition 6:
“Nomad existence necessarily implies the numerical elements of a war machine.”
Until then, I’ll leave you with the sole note for today, Eyal Weizman’s article “Walking Through Walls,” from which the commentary of IDF commander Kochavi was drawn:
https://static1.squarespace.com/static/56e1e3e24d088e6834d4fbf4/t/5b7ff4cf70a6adbc6a7736ad/1535112400261/191111322-Weizman-Walking-Through-Walls-Frontier-Architecture-Eyal-Weizman.pdf
So. “Nomad existence necessarily implies the numerical elements of a war machine.” What might this mean?
I find the entire long discussion that follows among the most obscure in all of “Nomadology” — and I suspect many readers feel broadly the same, as the concepts deployed here don’t seem to have enjoyed nearly the same popular amplification as other Deleuzian terms, like smooth space or the rhizome. So let’s take it particularly slowly and see if we can’t nevertheless get it to render up
something approaching meaning.
The section kicks off with an observation: “Tens, hundreds, thousands, myriads: all armies retain these decimal groupings, to the point that each time they are encountered it is safe to assume the presence of a military organization.” And we’re already in trouble, for two reasons: that word “decimal,” first — the Army I was in, at least, organized itself in teams, squads, platoons, companies, battalions and so on, none of which typically converged on a decimal
quantity — and also the assertion of an inherent militarity to this organizing logic, when it’s at least as plausible that large-scale labor formations organized this way preceded military ones historically. But let’s take them at their word, for a moment, and see what it is they want to do with this assertion.
“Is this not the way an army deterritorializes its soldiers? An army is composed of units, companies and divisions. [NB: “companies” and “divisions” are *types* of unit.] The Numbers can
“vary in function, in combination, they can enter into entirely different strategies, but there is always a connection between the Number and the war machine.”
I kind of get what they’re after here: in basic training, kids are stripped immediately of their affiliation with Pine Bluff, Arkansas or the Bronx or Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and remade as soldiers of the Third Platoon (“DOGS OF WAR!”), Company D, 2nd Battalion, 46th Infantry Regiment. It’s as literal a deterritorialization operation as you
are ever likely to find, and each of those nested units does owe something to the “decimal” scheme D&G perceive, if only roughly.
The trouble is, though, that D&G are asserting a connection *not* between Number and the army, but *between Number and a war machine they have spent a few thousand words emphasizing is precisely other than a State army*. Maybe if we dig in further we can grasp the point they’re getting at?
The connection they wish us to see is “not a question of quantity, but of
“organization or composition. When the State creates armies, it always applies this principle of numeric organization; but all it does is adopt the principle, at the same time it appropriates the war machine. For so peculiar an idea — the numerical organization of people — came from the nomads.” (The actual text says “from to the nomads” here, the first typo I can remember tripping over in the entire text, and it’s followed a mere few paragraphs later by another. Perhaps the compositor was as
nonplused by this passage as I am.)
Well. So far as I understand it, “this principle of numeric organization” — this fractal, nested way of assembling people, whether in militaries or labor formations, and divvying them up into functional groups — has to do with enabling a hierarchical practice of command and control. You don’t, and can’t, command a single formation of 10,000 — but you *can* issue orders to five divisional COs, who direct their battalion commanders, and so on down the chain.
And in this way, the whole unwieldy mass begins to move, with relative swiftness and cohesion. The whole thing depends on “the chain of command.”
What D&G want us to accept, though, is that this whole organizational logic was captured by the State from *nomads* who dispose of their available number “vortically,” in smooth space. How do they intend to convince us of this seemingly rather stark reversal?
With an appeal to history, evidently! “It was the Hyksos, conquering nomads, who brought it to Egypt; and when Moses applied it to his people in exodus, it was on the advice of his nomad father-in-law, Jethro the Cinite, and was done is [sic] such a way as to constitute a war machine, the elements of which are described in the _Book of Numbers_.”
The Britannica tells us that the Hyksos were “a dynasty of Palestinian origin that ruled northern Egypt as the 15th dynasty” (the word “Hyksos” itself
was “in fact probably an Egyptian term for ‘rulers of foreign lands’ [heqa-khase].”) And, per the same source, they did indeed bring with them to their project of rule in Egypt military-organizational technologies founded on the horse, chariot and compound bow. So far, D&G’s account bears out.
As for Jethro’s advice to Moses, the Biblical account is in Exodus 18, verses 13-26. Here’s the King James version, which I obviously prefer:
“17 And Moses' father in law said unto him,
“The thing that thou doest is not good.
18 Thou wilt surely wear away, both thou, and this people that is with thee: for this thing is too heavy for thee; thou art not able to perform it thyself alone.
19 Hearken now unto my voice, I will give thee counsel, and God shall be with thee: Be thou for the people to God-ward, that thou mayest bring the causes unto God:
20 And thou shalt teach them ordinances & laws, and shalt shew them the way wherein they must walk, & the work that they must do.”
“21 Moreover thou shalt provide out of all the people able men, such as fear God, men of truth, hating covetousness; and place such over them, to be rulers of thousands, and rulers of hundreds, rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens:
22 And let them judge the people at all seasons: and it shall be, that every great matter they shall bring unto thee, but every small matter they shall judge: so shall it be easier for thyself, & they shall bear the burden with thee.
23 If thou shalt do this thing,
“and God command thee so, then thou shalt be able to endure, and all this people shall also go to their place in peace.
24 So Moses hearkened to the voice of his father in law, and did all that he had said.
25 And Moses chose able men out of all Israel, and made them heads over the people, rulers of thousands, rulers of hundreds, rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens.
26 And they judged the people at all seasons: the hard causes they brought unto Moses,
“but *every small matter they judged themselves*” [emphasis added].
What is this other than a perfectly concrete account of the delegation of authority? Indeed, of the *distribution* of decision power to the lowest possible echelon? There’s a suppleness and agility to this way of doing things that — per Jethro’s word-for-word advice — doesn’t merely make a formation organized in this way “able to endure,” but gives it a massively improved ability to sweep the horizon for emergent situations,