Donald J Trump
@ real Donald Trump
He who saves his country does not violate any law
******
Donald J Trump
@ real Donald Trump
Should I audit the IRS into Oblivion?
10:11 AM
February 15, 2025
The Corporation as Sovereign
by Allison D. Garrett
Maine Law Review
Volume 60 Number 1 Article 4
January 2008
Abstract
In the past two hundred years, sovereignty devolved from the monarch to the people in many countries; in our lifetimes, it has devolved in several significant ways from the people to the corporation. We are witnesses to the erosion of traditional Westphalian concepts of sovereignty, where the chess game of international politics is played out by nation-states, each governing a certain geographic area and group of people. Eulogies for the nation-state often cite globalization as the cause of death. The causa mortis is characterized by the increase in the power and normative influence of supranational organizations, such as the United Nations, World Bank, European Union, International Monetary Fund, and non-governmental organizations. Today, geography lacks the political significance it once had, as valuable commodities instantly pass over, through, and under geographic borders in the world’s most common language, binary code. Telecommunications, when combined with mobile capital and technology, “is viewed as obliterating spatial lines.” All of these changes have made the nation-state, as a geopolitical entity, far less significant than it has been in the past several decades. Corporations have stepped into this power vacuum with a reach and economic influence so broad that some of the duties of sovereign nations have fallen under their aegis. The power and influence of the world’s major corporations continue to grow, and with this growth their similarities to sovereign states increase. As the nation-state is prematurely eulogized, scholars are writing about the privatization of governance and commerce. Many scholars tend to focus on international relations and the extent to which relationships among nations have been transcended or superseded by private actors. For example, the concept of nations acting as private entities has been recognized in the Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act, which provides that “a foreign state shall not be immune . . . in any case in which the action is based upon a commercial activity carried on in the United States by a foreign state.” This Article focuses, instead, on how the distinction between corporations and the state is blurring, not only internationally, but also domestically, as corporations act in ways that make them similar to nation-states.
Some of Yarvin's writing from (his blog Unqualified Reservations) is so radically right wing that it almost has to be read to be believed, like the time he critiqued the attacks by the Norwegian far-right terrorist Anders Behring Breivik—who killed 77 people, including dozens of children at a youth camp—not on the grounds that terrorism is wrong but because the killings wouldn't do anything effective to overthrow what Yarvin called Norway's 'communist' government. He argued that Nelson Mandela, once head of the military wing of the African National Congress, had endorsed terror tactics and political murder against opponents and said anyone who claimed 'St. Mandela' was more innocent than Breivik might have 'a mother you'd like to fuck.'[60]
He comes across as a kind of third-rate authoritarian David Foster Wallace, combining post-postmodern bookish eclecticism with a yearning to communicate with and influence young disaffected white men. His writings are full of dubious historical claims usually mixed with thinly veiled bigotry and a powdery kind of middle-class snobbery.[61]
Anarcho-capitalism challenges other forms of anarchism by supporting private property and private institutions with significant economic power.
Rothbard used the term anarcho-capitalism to distinguish his philosophy from anarchism that opposes private property[61] as well as to distinguish it from individualist anarchism.[62] Other terms sometimes used by proponents of the philosophy include:
• Individualist anarchism[63][64]
• Natural order[7]
• Ordered anarchy[7]
• Private-law society[7]
• Private-property anarchy[7]
• Radical capitalism[7]
The basic axiom of libertarian political theory holds that every man is a self-owner, having absolute jurisdiction over his own body. In effect, this means that no one else may justly invade, or aggress against, another's person. It follows then that each person justly owns whatever previously unowned resources he appropriates or "mixes his labor with". From these twin axioms – self-ownership and "homesteading" – stem the justification for the entire system of property rights titles in a free-market society. This system establishes the right of every man to his own person, the right of donation, of bequest (and, concomitantly, the right to receive the bequest or inheritance), and the right of contractual exchange of property titles.[17]
Everyone is the proper owner of his own physical body as well as of all places and nature-given goods that he occupies and puts to use by means of his body, provided only that no one else has already occupied or used the same places and goods before him. This ownership of "originally appropriated" places and goods by a person implies his right to use and transform these places and goods in any way he sees fit, provided only that he does not change thereby uninvitedly the physical integrity of places and goods originally appropriated by another person. In particular, once a place or good has been first appropriated by, in John Locke's phrase, 'mixing one's labor' with it, ownership in such places and goods can be acquired only by means of a voluntary – contractual – transfer of its property title from a previous to a later owner.[71]
It is not enough to call simply for the defense of "the rights of private property"; there must be an adequate theory of justice in property rights, else any property that some State once decreed to be "private" must now be defended by libertarians, no matter how unjust the procedure or how mischievous its consequences.[62]
"I define anarchist society as one where there is no legal possibility for coercive aggression against the person or property of any individual. Anarchists oppose the State because it has its very being in such aggression, namely, the expropriation of private property through taxation, the coercive exclusion of other providers of defense service from its territory, and all of the other depredations and coercions that are built upon these twin foci of invasions of individual rights." —Murray Rothbard in Society Without a State[136]
One case that has inspired both sorts of anarchists is that of the free cities of medieval Europe. The first weak link in the chain of feudalism, these free cities became Europe's centers of economic development, trade, art, and culture. They provided a haven for runaway serfs, who could often legally gain their freedom if they avoided re-capture for a year and a day. And they offer many examples of how people can form mutual-aid associations for protection, insurance, and community. Of course, left-anarchists and anarcho-capitalists take a somewhat different perspective on the free cities: the former emphasize the communitarian and egalitarian concerns of the free cities, while the latter point to the relatively unregulated nature of their markets and the wide range of services (often including defense, security, and legal services) which were provided privately or semi-privately.[19]
The land clubs and claim associations each adopted their own written contract setting out the laws that provided the means for defining and protecting property rights in the land. They established procedures for registration of land claims, as well as for the protection of those claims against outsiders, and for adjudication of internal disputes that arose. The reciprocal arrangements for protection would be maintained only if a member complied with the association's rules and its court's rulings. Anyone who refused would be ostracized. A boycott by a land club meant that an individual had no protection against aggression other than what he could provide himself.[155]
The king was elected by the tuath from within a royal kin group (the derbfine), which carried the hereditary priestly function. Politically, however, the king had strictly limited functions: he was the military leader of the tuath, and he presided over the tuath assemblies. But he could only conduct war or peace negotiations as an agent of the assemblies, and he was in no sense sovereign and had no rights of administering justice over tuath members. He could not legislate, and when he himself was party to a lawsuit, he had to submit his case to an independent judicial arbiter.[16]
The law merchant, admiralty law, and much of the common law began to be developed by privately competitive judges, who were sought out by litigants for their expertise in understanding the legal areas involved. The fairs of Champagne and the great marts of international trade in the Middle Ages enjoyed freely competitive courts, and people could patronize those that they deemed most accurate and efficient.[60]: 1051
Within Libertarianism, Rothbard represents a minority perspective that actually argues for the total elimination of the state. However, Rothbard's claim as an anarchist is quickly voided when it is shown that he only wants an end to the public state. In its place he allows countless private states, with each person supplying their own police force, army, and law, or else purchasing these services from capitalist vendors. ... Rothbard sees nothing at all wrong with the amassing of wealth, therefore those with more capital will inevitably have greater coercive force at their disposal, just as they do now.[163]
To be honest, I'm pretty skeptical about the idea of anarcho-capitalism. If a-caps imagine a world divided into property-holding employers and property-less wage laborers, but with no systematic coercive mechanisms[;] well, I just can't see how it would work. You always see a-caps saying "if I want to hire someone to pick my tomatoes, how are you going to stop me without using coercion?" Notice how you never see anyone say "if I want to hire myself out to pick someone else's tomatoes, how are you going to stop me?" Historically nobody ever did wage labor like that if they had pretty much [any] other option.[177]
Looking at Rothbard’s definition of "liberty" quoted above, we can see that freedom is actually no longer considered to be a fundamental, independent concept. Instead, freedom is a derivative of something more fundamental, namely the "legitimate rights" of an individual, which are identified as property rights. In other words, given that "anarcho"-capitalists and right libertarians in general consider the right to property as "absolute," it follows that freedom and property become one and the same. This suggests an alternative name for the right Libertarian, namely "Propertarian." And, needless to say, if we do not accept the right-libertarians’ view of what constitutes "legitimate" "rights," then their claim to be defenders of liberty is weak.
— Iain Mckay.(2008/2012)
[Jamie Raskin] We need to be supporting the lawyers and the people who are willing to take Trump to court, because we are winning. And that's going to be a really important part of filling that gap you talk about between what the rule of law says, and then what's actually happening. Because we're dealing with a band of incorrigible, lawless plutocrats who think that they can just control the whole U.S. government. And I keep thinking about what Steve Bannon said about Elon Musk. He said he's a truly evil individual. He knows that whole crowd, so he knows what he's talking about. And so that's quite a statement. But in the Silicon Valley network of right-wing, billionaire, libertarian-turned-authoritarians, they are very open about the fact that they think that democracy is obsolete, we're living in a post-Constitutional America, and the Constitution no longer fits. And they are trying to get everybody ready for a Techno-State Monarchy. And in their writings about it, they suggest that seizure of the control of technology, and computers, and financial payments, is the essence to moving from one form of government to another.
So we're really talking about people who would like to abolish American Constitutional institutions, and representative democracy, and the rights and freedom of the people.
Their guy, Curtis Yarvin, who's their big intellectual hero, has said people have got to overcome their fear of the word "Dictator." He says a Dictator is basically just like a corporate CEO, who are all Dictators in their businesses.
And so we need a Dictator that is the corporation, that's the United States of America. And obviously they have Elon Musk in mind, because he could never run for President, he wasn't born in the United States of America, and he's had citizenship in three different countries. He was actually an undocumented immigrant here for many months before he got work authorization, for all the right-wingers out there who want to kick all the undocumented people out of the country, although that might be an argument in their favor. I don't know. But in any event, these people are talking about supplanting our system of Constitutional democracy with a completely different kind of government controlled by Dictatorship.
-- Jamie Raskin Talks About Silicon Valleys' Techno-Libertarian Fascists, by Brian Tyler Cohen, Feb 15, 2025
The International Committee of Jurists, appointed by the Council of the League of Nations, took the view that statehood cannot co-exist with anarchy. Rather, a state does not exist until a situation “is of a definite and normal character.”Sovereignty does not exist in some situations, “either because the state is not yet fully formed or because it is undergoing transformation or dissolution [and in such cases], the situation is obscure and uncertain from a legal point of view, and will not become clear until the period of development is completed and a definite new situation, which is normal in respect to territorial sovereignty, has been established.” Once created, one attribute of the state becomes the protection of minorities, which is often codified in the states’ constitutions. In order to maintain security and stability, governments establish armies to protect themselves from other nations and police forces to keep order internally.
The advent of new European trading companies also stimulated industrial demand, especially for the cotton textiles – muslins, taffetas, brocades, batiks, ginghams – of Gujarat, Bengal, Golconda and the Tamil country. Founded respectively in 1600 and 1602, the East India Companies of London and the Netherlands had been intended to contest the Portuguese monopoly of the mainly Indonesian spice trade. They soon became equally interested in India’s manufactures. During the reign of Jahangir, Akbar’s immediate successor, both companies set up trading houses in Surat, which was by now the main port in Gujarat. They also began to tap into the ancient trade between India’s east coast ports and south-east Asia. Politically the companies were an irrelevance and would long remain so. But by 1640 they had ended Portugal’s monopoly of the eastern sea-routes; Europe’s domestic markets were discovering the joys of cheaper soft-furnishings and more washable cotton apparel; and sailings, whether regulated by the companies or unregulated, were boosting demand in India and, since payment was usually made in bullion, providing a welcome influx of silver....
Meanwhile in Delhi the succession crisis which followed Bahadur Shah’s death in 1712 was taking its course. Although orchestrated more by senior Mughal officials than by the four contesting sons of Bahadur Shah, it proved no less costly in blood and treasure and it resulted in the accession of a man not unfairly described by Khafi Khan as a frivolous and drunken imbecile. Luckily this Jahandah Shah lasted only eleven months, a short reign if a long debauch. ‘It was a time for minstrels and singers and all the tribes of dancers and actors … Worthy, talented and learned men were driven away, and bold impudent wits and tellers of facetious anecdotes gathered round.’ The anecdotes invariably concerned Lal Kunwar (or Kumari), the emperor’s outrageous mistress, on whose fun-loving relatives were showered jagirs,mansabs, elephants and jewels. So infectious was the mood that ‘it seemed kazis would turn toss-pots and muftis become tipplers.’14
The party ended, and decorum was temporarily restored, when in 1713 Farrukhsiyar, the son of one of Jahandah Shah’s unsuccessful brothers, approached from Bihar with a sizeable army. Jahandah Shah’s forces mostly melted away, and Farrukhsiyar, who had already declared himself emperor, began his six-year reign (1713–19). It was he who was responsible for the bloody repression of Banda Bahadur and his Sikhs, and it was he who would fatefully indulge the ambitions of the English East India Company....
Ever since the days of Akbar the European trading companies had been petitioning the Mughal emperors for farmans, imperial directives. These would theoretically regularise their status, privileges and trading terms throughout the empire and would, as it were, trump the variety of vexatious exactions and demands imposed by local Mughal officials in the ports and provincial capitals. To an organisation like the English East India Company, whose very existence depended on a national monopoly of Eastern trade as solemnly conferred by charter from the English sovereign, the need for some such reciprocal authorisation guaranteeing favourable access to its most important trading partner was self-evident.
Within a decade of the English Company receiving its first royal charter in 1600, a Captain William Hawkins had journeyed from Surat to Agra to petition Jahangir for just such a farman. Provided with more lavish gifts or more impressive accreditation, a procession of hopefuls followed in his wake, amongst them Sir Thomas Roe, the first official ambassador from the Court of St James and the man who was so impressed by Jahangir’s jewellery. With India as a whole Roe was less impressed, dismissing it in much the same terms as had Babur. Prickly to the point of apoplexy about his diplomatic status, Roe also pontificated to his countrymen in India and thus antagonised the Company’s merchants, or ‘factors’, whose interests he was supposed to be representing. ‘If he [Prince Khurram, the future Shah Jahan] should offer me ten [forts] I would not accept one,’ he told the factors, ‘… for without controversy it is an errour to affect garrisons and land warrs in India … Let this be received as a rule, that if you will profitt, seek it at sea and in quiett trade.’ Although Roe’s idea of ‘quiett trade’ included a gratuitous attack on Mughal shipping once every four years – as he explained, ‘we must chasten these people’ – the directors of the East India Company had agreed with him about avoiding garrisons and wars. As a guarantee of favourable trading conditions an imperial farman looked to provide the perfect, because inexpensive, alternative....
But the farman had not been forthcoming, and garrisons and wars had followed. Madras had been acquired from the local nayak in 1640 and its foreshore immediately graced with the four-square Fort St George. Bombay, as noted, had passed to Charles II in 1661 as part of the dowry of his Portuguese bride, Catherine of Braganza. After a disastrous attempt to install a royal garrison it had been leased to the Company, whose employees came to appreciate its greater security when Shivaji and his successors began their raids on Surat. The actual transfer from Crown to Company was by letters patent of 1668 which, presumably for reasons of bureaucratic convenience, described Bombay as being ‘in the Manor of East Greenwich in the County of Kent’; the rent of £10 was to be paid ‘in gold, on the 30th day of September, yearly, for ever’....
Calcutta had been founded twenty years later during the course of one of Aurangzeb’s lesser-known wars. In 1664 Shaista Khan, fresh from the Deccan and minus the thumb lost during that audacious Maratha raid on his Pune home, had been appointed governor of Bengal in succession to Mir Jumla, the conqueror of Assam. When Aurangzeb himself moved to the Deccan in 1682, Shaista Khan was still in Bengal, and in that year he welcomed to his capital of Dacca one William Hedges, a director of the English East India Company. Hedges sought to persuade Shaista Khan to cancel a new tax on the imported bullion with which the Company paid for its Indian exports and to petition Aurangzeb for the long-sought farman. As the brother of Mumtaz Mahal of the Taj, and so Aurangzeb’s uncle, Shaista Khan was believed to have considerable influence. At one point Hedges thought the farman was as good as signed. But in 1684 his diplomacy was undermined by a combination of the Company’s bitching Bengal factors and Sir Josiah Child, its bellicose governor in London. Shaista Khan drew the obvious conclusion: ‘the English are a company of base quarelling people and foul dealers.’ Negotiations were broken off; and a couple of years later – it taking that long for recriminations to reach London and retribution to reach India – two ships carrying exactly 308 Company soldiers sailed up to Hughli to press the Company’s suit and challenge an empire which had at the time at least 100,000 men in the field.20
The Company’s Mughal War, also sometimes known as ‘Child’s War’, figures no more prominently in histories of British India than it does in Mughal histories. It brought glory to no one. In Bengal, after a fracas in the Mughal port of Hughli, the English withdrew downriver, landed themselves at the spot which they later called Calcutta, then next year evacuated it. This performance was repeated in 1688–9 as the ‘war’ took a more serious turn elsewhere. In support of his Bengal brethren, the Company’s senior official in Surat (who was also called Child) had removed to the comparative safety of Bombay. Thence, in accordance with ambassador Roe’s long-remembered dictum, he began attacking Mughal shipping. Child in London applauded; within a year, he announced, ‘the subjects of the Mogoll [would be] starving and dying by thousands for want of our trade’. Meanwhile the Child in Bombay boasted that if Aurangzeb chose to send the admiral of his fleet against him he ‘would blow him off with the wind of his bum’.21 Aurangzeb did so choose, and ‘Child’s War’ – or perhaps ‘the Children’s War’ – thus spread from one extremity of the Mughal empire to the other. In early 1689 Sidi Yakub, the African who commanded a west coast fleet which served as the Mughal marine, took Bombay island completely by surprise. The English were besieged in Bombay Castle for most of the year and eventually capitulated.
The Company’s ‘envoys’, who in 1690 journeyed up to the imperial encampment to plead for pardon, did so with their hands tied in more ways than one. As a further indignity they were made to prostrate themselves before the emperor. But Aurangzeb was not unaware of the value of their trade nor of the danger of their making common cause with the Marathas. For a massive indemnity and promises of better conduct in future, he graciously agreed to the restoration of their trading privileges and the withdrawal of his troops. In the same spirit of forgive and forget, the Company’s Bengal establishment was allowed to return to the Hughli river where in 1690 it made a permanent settlement at Calcutta and began the fortifications of its ‘Fort William’. With the first Anglo–Indian war having been so decisively won by the Mughal empire, there was no mention of the farman....
Of more immediate concern to the directors of the Company were the activities of its employees in a personal capacity. English fortunes were notoriously made in India not by loyal service in the purchase and despatch of the Company’s piece-goods but by private investment in a variety of financial opportunities. Some were concerned with trade. Only over the ‘out and back’ traffic between England and the East was the Company able to enforce its monopoly. Within the East and within India itself, Company men took advantage of the decline in Indian-operated shipping which had begun during Portugal’s sixteenth-century Estado da India to invest heavily in the Indian Ocean trade. They owned or leased ships, freighted cargoes, sold insurance, and above all took advantage of the security and protection of their employer’s flag. Thus from Madras, as employees of the Company, the American-born Yale brothers amassed considerable fortunes in trade with Siam (Thailand) and Canton in China; part of Elihu Yale’s earnings would endow the college, and later university, in Connecticut which bears his name. Some Company men also invested in, and often defected to, shipping interests which did not recognise even the Company’s ‘out and back’ monopoly. These might be other European East India Companies like those of the Dutch or the French. They might be the ‘illegal’ English syndicates usually known as ‘interlopers’. Or they might be a bit of both -– English interlopers sailing under a flag of convenience. Up the Hughli river in search of Bengal produce there sailed in the early eighteenth century vessels which, though largely financed by Englishmen, flew the colours of the Ostend Company, the Swedish Company, the Prussian Company, the Royal Polish Company and the Royal Danish Company.
Thomas Pitt, once an interloper, then a Member of Parliament, had already made and spent one Indian fortune when in 1699 he returned to Madras as governor of its Fort St George. He stayed there for twelve years, amassing a second fortune which included the Pitt diamond (bought for £45,000 and sold to the Regent of France for £135,000); it would comfortably sustain the political careers of his prime ministerial grandson (Chatham) and great-grandson (William Pitt the Younger). Governor Pitt also jealously protected the Company’s interests during the uncertain times before and after Aurangzeb’s death. In 1701 another English ambassador, the first since Roe, had toiled up to the emperor’s peripatetic court in the Deccan with a lavish presentation of cannons, horses and cartloads of glassware and crockery. But Aurangzeb would only entertain the idea of a farman if the English would undertake the expensive task of policing the Indian Ocean and suppressing the piratical activities of mainly European interlopers and renegades. No such undertaking was forthcoming, and nor was the farman. The embassy proved to be the expensive disaster which Pitt had predicted.
Aurangzeb’s death in 1707 and the subsequent succession struggle opened new possibilities. On behalf of Prince Muazzam, an imperial intermediary asked for English assistance in cutting off the retreat of one of the prince’s rivals; in return, Pitt was invited to draw up the terms of a farman. Although the prince’s rival never reached Madras, Muazzam duly ascended the throne as Bahadur Shah and the Company began assembling the elephants, horses, clocks and musical boxes deemed suitable to accompany another mission to the imperial court. When Pitt left India in 1709 he was still sanguine of its prospects, and in 1710 overtures from the same intermediary, who had now been posted to Bengal, were renewed. The clocks and elephants were duly shipped to Calcutta and by 1712 the mission to the Mughal was ready to start. Then news came from Delhi that Bahadur Shah had died.
His ‘imbecilic’ successor barely lasted long enough for an exchange of letters, but with the accession of Farrukhsiyar the Company’s hopes soared again. The new emperor had been brought up in Bengal, where his father had been governor after Shaista Khan. He was known to some of the English in Calcutta, and the Company had supplied his nursery with toys. Evidently the toys had been appreciated, for news that some forty tons of more adult exotica now awaited the emperor’s orders brought an interim confirmation of the Company’s existing privileges plus a request that the mission proceed to Delhi forthwith. In 1715, headed by the unexciting John Surman and guarded by some six hundred troops, a caravan consisting of 160 bullock carts, twelve hundred porters, and a choice assortment of carriages, cannons and camels headed west across the Gangetic plain.
‘Considering the great pomp and state of the kings of Hindustan, we was very well received,’ wrote Surman on arrival in Delhi. He relished the impressive ceremonial and was soon dispensing lavish bribes. Meanwhile the mission’s doctor successfully treated some swellings in the imperial groin. He was handsomely rewarded, but as to the farman Farrukhsiyar remained infuriatingly indifferent. Only when threatened with the withdrawal of the Company from Surat and its other establishments in Gujarat did he relent. Losing the Company’s bullion and trade for the price of a piece of paper was unthinkable. On New Year’s Eve 1716, more than a century since Captain William Hawkins had first applied for it, the farman received the imperial signature.
Explicit as to the territorial and commercial rights enjoyed by the Company throughout India, the farman did indeed ‘indicate such favour as has never before been granted to any European nation’. In Calcutta, Madras and Bombay celebrations were held, toasts were drunk, and salutes fired as the document was paraded through the streets and proclaimed at the cities’ gates. ‘Our dear bought farman’ became ‘the Magna Carta of the Company in India’. It provided imperial confirmation of a host of privileges, some of which had hitherto been more assumed than assured. It inducted the Company into the political hierarchy of Mughal India through a direct relationship with the emperor which bore comparison with that enjoyed by imperial office-holders. And in that it legitimised action against anyone supposedly infringing its terms, it offered great scope for future intervention. Thirty years later it would be on the strength of Farrukhsiyar’s farman that Robert Clive would justify his advance to Plassey and the overthrow of Bengal’s nawab....
The dynamic of the Mughal political economy was as much about troops as money. Military leaders financed their activities by engaging in entrepreneurial ventures, and entrepreneurs secured their investments by supporting military ventures. Thus, even before war broke out with the French in the 1740s, the English Company, through its employees, was already indirectly involved in the hire and maintenance of troops by neighbouring zamindars and revenue collectors. Encouraged by the farman’s confirmation of certain local revenue rights, the Company had also significantly increased the number of troops deemed necessary to defend its own establishments. The Madras garrison, for instance, increased from 360 in 1717 to some twelve hundred in 1742. Most were recruited locally, many being from the Indo-Portuguese community. But Indian troops, known as ‘peons’ or ‘sepoys’ (sipahis, soldiers), were also hired, there being a ready pool of professional soldiers -– Marathas, Deccanis, Afghans, rajputs, Baksaris (from Awadh) –- which Mughal rule had left stranded, and often unpaid, throughout the subcontinent. The existence of this market in troops, like that of the market in offices and revenue farms, positively invited European participation.
But if the farman could be used to provide a legal basis for British interference, and if the lively market in commercial, fiscal and military opportunities encouraged such intervention, it was the Anglo–French wars which precipitated it. They furnished the pretext, demonstrated the method and inspired the confidence for the first British moves towards an Indian dominion....
With French troops under de Bussy now assisting the new nizam against other rivals like the Marathas and so penetrating deep into the Deccan, the British too were not averse to opening a new front. Robert Clive, returning from England after a hero’s reception, reached Bombay in 1755 whence he expected to lead an Anglo-Maratha assault on de Bussy in the Deccan. This was called off. Instead, he joined a Royal Navy squadron under Admiral Charles Watson for an epic assault on what the British called the ‘pirate stronghold of Gheriah’. The ‘pirate’ was Kanhoji Angria’s successor as admiral of the Maratha fleet and ‘Gheriah’ was otherwise Vijayadurg, still today a spectacularly fortified promontory near Ratnagiri to the south of Bombay. Taken and pillaged, Vijayadurg’s fall brought to an end both Maratha sea-power and those premature ‘Indian Wars’ which had so embarrassed Bombay. Clive then sailed on to Madras with Watson. Barely four months later, in July 1756, news reached Madras that Siraj-ud-daula, the Nawab of Bengal, had stormed Calcutta and ejected the British. With Watson, his squadron, a regiment of royal troops, and a thousand sepoys Clive sailed for Bengal.
The next seven months, or ‘the Famous Two Hundred Days’, would witness the British conquest of the richest and possibly the largest of the Mughal provinces. Bengal duly became the ‘bridgehead’, ‘springboard’ and ‘foundation’ of British rule in India. It was not the new front against the French which Clive had expected, but the French presence at Chandernagore did provide a handy pretext for continuing his advance after Calcutta had been recaptured and all rights as per the farman restored. Chandernagore itself would be stormed by Watson’s ships in what was much the most ferocious engagement of the campaign. Thereafter it was the nawab’s supposed intrigues with the French which justified a further advance to Plassey. In the battle which followed, the nawab would be toppled by intrigue and, following Arcot practice, the first of several puppet nawabs installed.
Nine years later rule by proxy in Bengal would become rule by diwani. In a decidedly tacky ceremony the Emperor Shah Alam II, Muhammad Shah’s successor, formally inducted the Company, in the person of Clive, into the Mughal hierarchy. As diwan, or chancellor, for Bengal, the Company received a title which was now tantamount to sovereignty over a province that enjoyed virtual autonomy....
The royal proclamation of 1858 announced a decision of the British Parliament that all rights previously enjoyed by the East India Company in India were being resumed by the British Crown. Victoria thereby became Queen of India as well as of the United Kingdom, and India’s governor-general became her viceroy as well as the British government’s chief executive in India. The fiction of Company rule thus finally ended. Long as irrelevant as the Mughal, the Company now shared his fate as a casualty of the Rebellion. Instead of pining away in Rangoon, it would linger on for a few more years in a London office ‘unhonoured and unsung, but maybe not altogether unwept’.
So India had a new sovereign; and just as in Britain the monarch’s position was buttressed by a hierarchy of hereditary nobles and by the award of honours, so in India similar structures were created. The Star of India, a royal order of Indian knights, was introduced in 1861, and the first tour by a member of the British royal family took place in 1869. Meanwhile India’s aristocracy of ‘feudatory’ princes, chiefs, rajas, nawabs and so on was being further stratified and grouped to conform to British ideas of hierarchy. The grading of gun salutes and other minutiae of protocol provided a ready reckoner of status, status itself being assessed on the basis of historical and territorial credentials, good governance, charitable activities and, of course, demonstrations of loyalty.
Only when this structuring was complete was the keystone installed. In 1876, on the advice of Disraeli, the Queen announced to the British Parliament that, satisfied that her Indian subjects were ‘happy under My rule and loyal to My throne’, she deemed the moment appropriate for her to assume a new ‘Royal Style and Titles’. The style, it was later revealed, was to be imperial and the titles, in English, ‘Empress of India’ and, for the benefit of her Indian subjects, the rather unfortunate ‘Kaiser-i-Hind’.
In January 1877, in a vast tented city around the Ridge whence British forces had recaptured Delhi twenty years earlier, the new imperium was solemnised at an Imperial Assemblage. The official attendance of eighty-four thousand included nearly all of India’s ‘sixty-three ruling princes’ and ‘three hundred titular chiefs and native gentlemen’. Lord Lytton, the presiding viceroy whose arrangements would provide a blueprint for all future imperial durbars, took some delight in listing those present. Here were the princes of Arcot and Tanjore from the deep south, the principal ‘Talukdars of Oudh’, ‘Alor Chiefs of Sindh’, Sikh Sardars, rajputs and Marathas, ‘the semi-independent Chief of Amb’, ‘Arabs from Peshawar’, ‘Biluch Tommduis from Dera Ghazi Khan’, and envoys from Chitral and Yassin in the high Hindu Kush ‘who attended in the train of the Maharajah of Cashmere and Jammu’. Also included in Lytton’s litany were quite a few ex-princes like the grandson of Tipu Sultan, the son of the last Nawab of Awadh and ‘members of the ex-Royal family of Delhi’.
The presence of these descendants of the former great ruling houses of India imparted some of the flavour of a Roman triumph to the assemblage. The British conception of Indian history thereby was realised as a kind of ‘living museum’, with the descendants of both the allies and the enemies of the English displaying the period of the conquest of India.29
Conservation was now the order of the day. The riot of privilege and particularism, once seen as an indictment of British rule, was to be preserved as imperial pageantry. And with the British apparently disclaiming plans for the rapid transformation of Indian society, the initiative now slowly passed from these hereditary representatives of the old dynastic order to a new elite, English-educated and city-based.
-- India A History: From the Earliest Civilisations to the Boom of the Twenty-First Century, by John Keay
The pressing issues of corporate law [such as] whether a corporation should resemble a functioning democracy, whether it has duties to a community, whether it should be allowed to move offshore, whether it has a race or gender, whether it has rights to free speech, [and] whether it must favor shareholders over employees . . . [are] questions about the meaning of the modern corporation.56
State sovereignty, in its most basic sense, is being redefined by the forces of globalization and international cooperation. The State is now widely understood to be the servant of its people, and not vice versa. At the same time, individual sovereignty—and by this I mean the human rights and fundamental freedoms of each and every individual as enshrined in our Charter—has been enhanced by a renewed consciousness of the right of every individual to control his or her own destiny. . . . Nothing in the Charter precludes recognition that there are rights beyond borders.73
[a] state is an organization that has a number of political functions and tasks, including providing security, extracting revenues, and forming rules for resolving disputes and allocating resources within the boundaries of the territory in which it exercises jurisdiction. That is, states consist of government offices, which have the tasks of providing the ultimate, or primary, security, extraction processes, and rule making within a territory.80
[T]o be forced to have the exclusive citizenship of one particular nation only, is inadequate for internationally highly mobile persons such as is the case with many managers, artists, academics, sportsmen and sportswomen. Moreover, multiple identities going above and beyond nationality have become the rule. But the present system of citizenship in the nation-state also does not conform to the preferences of the “average” persons, who often identify more with a lower level of government (for example, their particular region) or a higher level of government (for example, Europe as a whole) rather than with the national level. Even more fundamentally, people often identify more with other organizations such as NGOs or even with particular firms rather than with the nation of which they happen to be citizens.98
The idea that companies are getting too big is a gross abuse of statistics. Far from gaining economic clout, the biggest multinationals have been losing it. Over the past twenty years, the world’s biggest fifty firms have grown more slowly than the world economy as a whole. In most countries the average size of companies is going down not up.
And what exactly do we mean by companies being the same size as states? By some measures, Wal-Mart, the biggest company in 2000, is as rich as Peru. But is it as powerful? Think what the government of Peru can do. It has powers beyond Wal-Mart’s belief. It can coerce you to join the army, force you to pay taxes, arrest and imprison security chiefs and terrorists. Wal-Mart has no equivalent powers. Yes, it makes profits round the world but in many ways it is far more hemmed in than the giants of yesteryear. The East India Company had an army of 200,000 people. Wal-Mart is simply rather good at retailing. 122
Although many corporate charters granted after 1800 for canals, turnpikes, and banks went to private business entrepreneurs, these corporations did not operate as private businesses in the same sense as unincorporated businesses. To encourage much needed improvements, the early special charters normally granted privileges in the form of monopolies or franchises, causing these early corporations to resemble more closely towns’ public bodies rather than private competitive businesses.219
Economically relevant distances . . . may also depend on what trade economists refer to as the width of the border, which reflects the extra costs of economic exchange imposed by factors such as tariff and nontariff barriers, as well as costs arising from differences in language, culture, legal traditions, and political systems.
. . . [B]y most economically relevant measures, distances are shrinking rapidly. The shrinking globe has been a major source of the powerful wave of worldwide economic integration and increased economic interdependence that we are currently experiencing. The causes and implications of declining economic distances and increased economic integration are, of course, the subject of this conference.
The corporation is a special kind of moral personality for which the law has made extensive accommodation. . . . First, although many of the most important developments in corporate law have resulted from the efforts of the nonprofit institution, the business corporation has undeservedly received the exclusive attention of corporate law theorists. Corporate law is the result of a common course of development shared by the profit and the nonprofit organizations, but the business corporation, by achieving pride of place as the corporation, has become divorced from its heritage and has been allowed to masquerade as a purely private institution. Second, given the important role that the nonprofit institution has played in the growth of corporate law, it is clear that shareholder primacy cannot be the ultimate goal of corporate law. Third, the public character of the corporation justifies greater regulation of corporate activity in the public interest.
A nation is a soul, a spiritual principle. Two things, which, strictly speaking, are just one, constitute this soul, this spiritual principle. One is in the past, the other in the present. One is the common possession of a rich legacy of memories; the other is the actual consent, the desire to live together, the will to continue to value the heritage that has been received in common . . . . To have the common glories in the past, and will in the present; to have done great things together, and to do more of them again: these are the essential conditions to being a people.
the corporation is not just a production unit, a “cash cow,” or a profit center; it has become a community for all those in it. People spend most of their waking hours at work in the corporation; they make friends there, have meals there, and derive much of their self-esteem from work. A corporation is therefore an important community for those who work in it, and it significantly impacts on the society in which it is imbedded.
[m]anagers should . . . take into consideration the cultural characteristics of both the acquiring company and the acquired company. For example, when an American company acquires a Mexican company, it is not enough to know that the characteristics of the American company facilitate the acculturation process. One should also take into consideration that the cultural gap between the two companies is quite high, and that it is not easy to change the Mexican company’s culture.
the term “corporate democracy” usually refers to shareholder rights, which reflects a view of the corporation as a polis where only the “owners of shares” count as citizens. In political terms, shareholders of a corporation are the only citizens of the corporate polis, and only citizens vote. Put in this way, we now recognize that our legal system does not view non-shareholders as “citizens.” This is analogous to a familiar political situation in our past where only landowners had the right to vote in an election and the non-landed, non-owners had no voting rights. We have since recognized in the political arena that those who do not own land are nevertheless an integral part of the citizenship of our country. The same recognition seems to be overdue in corporate law and practice. Getting to it, however, will require a major ideological/conceptual shift not only in the concept of “corporate citizenship,” but also in the concept of the “corporation” itself.
[A] court of equity has no power to interpose its authority for the purpose of adjusting controversies that have arisen among the shareholders or directors of a corporation relative to the proper mode of conducting the corporate business, as it may do in case of a similar controversy arising between the members of an ordinary partnership. Corporations are in a certain sense legislative bodies. They have a legislative power when the directors or shareholders are duly convened that is fully adequate to settle all questions affecting their business interests or policy . . . .
Return to United States Government Crime
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 35 guests