1. History

The history of Chinese and Islamic geography is also all too rare in the Western literature, but see Needham and Ling (1970) and Unwin (1992) for nice introductions to both. But the Japanese case is especially useful to this book. It is often remarked that the field of critical geopolitics started in France, but anglophone authors did not know anything about it until a decade later. As we shall see, an early form of critical geopolitics emerged in Japan before its emergence in France.

Many authors use the term ‘pseudo-science’ when referring to geopolitics: see, for example, Bowman (1942, 654; 656); Broek (1943, 143); Freeman (1961, 225); Morgenthau (1978, 164–165); Fukushima (1997, 408). Walsh (1948, 7) refers to it as ‘the greatest hoax of the century.’

See Holdar (1992) for discussion of how the term entered Swedish and German discourse over the period 1899–1905.

See Chap. 4 for more on the importance of the Reader’s Digest to the framing of geopolitics.

Indeed, he was never happy with the word ‘geopolitics’ developing alternatives in 1916 such as ‘Erdmachtkunde’ (Herwig 1999, 239).

This is perhaps to be expected; the University of Kyoto was at the time known as the Imperial University of Kyoto.

The literature in English is uniform in its usage of the word ‘mountaineer’ to describe people living in mountains, thereby offering no clear distinction with those who climb them. The German literature does offer this distinction: while those who climb mountains are Bergsteigers, those who live in mountain chains are the Gebirgsvölker, who, in cases like Switzerland, live in Gebirgsstaaten. This case study will use the word ‘mountaineers’ to mean ‘those who live in the mountains.’

Several of these descriptions are given by multiple authors. To avoid over-referencing in the text, the descriptions are drawn from the following: Aron (1966, 183); Bodin (1583a, 156; 694); Darwin (1871, 50–52); Demolins (1901, 424); Febvre (1932, 196–199); Goldenberg (1994, 3); Griffin (2003, 118); Hell (1847, 299); von Humboldt (1849, 304); Johnston (2008, 326); Lincoln (2002, 147); Lunn (1963, 13; 18); Montesquieu (1748, XIV:2); Omrani (2009, 180); Radvanyi and Muduyev (2007, 165); Ripley (1899, 81); Russell (2007, 59); Semple (1901, 589–594); Semple (1911, 23; 35; 586); Speckhard et al. (2005, 134); Spykman (1938, 20); Strabo (n.d., 2.5.26; 3.3.5); von Thielmann (1875, 257); von Treitschke (1911, 101–102); Wordsworth (n.d., 330); Ziring (2009, 72).

Consider again Kaplan’s simple determinism in the preface: ‘And thus Europe developed because of a geography that was difficult in which to live’ (Kaplan 2012, 44).

Bodin’s rationale should be briefly revisited here. Bodin, like all of us, is conditioned by his times, one aspect of which is Renaissance (or indeed Galenic) physiology. Human behaviour is determined by the four humours (blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile); those in colder climes are more phlegmatic. They have a ‘more vehement internal heat’ giving them ‘much greater strength and natural vigour’ (Bodin 1583b, 146–155). This allows a contrast between, on the one hand, the proud and warlike people of the north/mountaineers, with the inhabitants of the valleys, who are ordinarily effeminate and delicate (Bodin 1583b, V, 694–695). Montesquieu takes this line of reasoning a step further and, bizarrely, looks at a sheep’s tongue under a microscope, before and after freezing it. He notices pyramids between the ‘papillæ’ which he assumes to be the ‘principal organs of taste.’ When frozen, the papillædiminish and the pyramids disappear, rising and appearing again when warmed up. From this, he argues that nervous glands are less expanded in cold countries and that therefore, the people have ‘very little sensibility for pleasure’; those in temperate have more, whereas those in hot countries have the most (Montesquieu (1748, XIV: 2); Rousseau (1781) would come to similar conclusions). Montesquieu relates his frozen sheep’s tongue observation to agriculture (in warm climates, people will not bother with agriculture: XIV: 6); alcohol consumption (they drink more in the cold north, in proportion to latitude: XIV: 10); food consumption (XIV: 10); passage of laws (XIV: 14–15); plus two books spent relating climate to slavery (XV–XVI). None of the modern authors uses a frozen sheep’s tongue in their research. Yet many of the authors do adopt a similar level of determinism. Montesquieu’s line of reasoning is included here as a reminder of how shaky the foundations of determinism can be.

It is therefore not surprising that, at least in his early works, von Treitschke is so admiring of the English: ‘The English are in the happiest position…We must, and will, take our share in the domination of the world by white races…We have still a very great deal to learn from England in this respect… It is a sound and normal trait in a civilized nation to avert the existing dangers of over-population by colonization on a large scale’ (von Treitschke 1911, 107–107).

Notions of self-identity will be explored later.

Griffin (2003) presents an account of how London newspapers published articles on the daring exploits of the Imam Shamil which led to demonstrations on the streets of Birmingham and Queen Victoria asking Parliament to send support troops. Griffin’s book has been through five different (and progressively more dramatic) titles, the fourth of which, Caucasus: Mountain Men and Holy Wars, Zürcher takes issue with: for him, such books are an unfortunate product of the cliché of the “noble but fierce mountain peoples” (Zürcher 2007, 56). Such images permeate discourse on mountain conflict, both in the nineteenth century and today.

He is not immune to it, however: ‘The character generally given to the Tschetscentzes is not very favourable. They are regarded as a thievish, untrustworthy, and mischievous race, and their conflicts with the Russians consisted in mere bush-fighting behind ambuscades. … The inhabitants of Daghestan stand undoubtedly highest in intelligence amongst the mountain tribes. In spite of the rugged and chiefly inhospitable mountains, they possess to some degree an industry, and almost a model system of agriculture, and one of the tribes possesses even a literature. … the tribes of Daghestan are famous for bravery and fidelity, and unlike the thievish Tschetschentzes for honesty’ (von Thielmann 1875, 44–46).

Radvanyi and Muduyev (2007) argue that ‘[g]eographic determinism is in vogue’ in the former Soviet Union. They look to how modern Russian researchers ‘uncritically base their arguments on the work of Lev Gumilev–a Russian follower of the theories of late 19th century European naturalists’ (Radvanyi and Muduyev 2007, 158). Laruelle (2000, 172), however, suggests that Gumilev was not literally a geographic determinist. Indeed, Gumilev condemned the geographic determinism of Montesquieu and Bodin. However, Gumilev developed a determinism of his own: physical determinism, which is not based on an individual’s immediate environment, but on the planet and indeed the universe. While this is harder to understand, the end result is similar to that of the geographical determinists: human agency is removed. Laruelle argues that Gumilevian determinism is, therefore, absolute (Laruelle 2000, 172–174).

This observation proved inspirational to a number of authors who would perform new work on the people in mountains. One such is the scientific racist Ripley (1899), whose work concerning the height and blondness of mountaineers need not concern us here.

A century later, Omrani (2009) used similar reasoning to arrive at an opposing conclusion. For him, the mountains lead to poverty, which makes the Pashtuns ‘hardy and resilient’: this, combined with ‘great thieves’ for ancestors means that ‘the idea of toiling for a living is often thought of as knavish and base’ (Omrani 2009, 180).

The Association is also supported by several French ministries, the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation, and the European Commission.