Does the ‘Civilization-State’ Concept Matter in International Relations?

Russian politicians and even Russian official documents have increasingly referred to their nation as a civilization-state. The term is often used in the context of Russia’s international relations – particularly when it comes to its deteriorating relations with the West, in which context the West and Russia are portrayed as two separate civilizations.

What is a civilization-state? And does this concept matter in international relations?

Answering the first question is made easier by the fact that at least two more countries, India and China, are often referred to as civilization-states. While the concept is not precisely defined, its broad meaning is relatively easy to grasp: A civilization-state is a country that includes within itself a whole civilization, not just a narrow culture, or a group of cultures. A civilization, in turn, may be understood as a wide network of cultures that retain the same elements, the same common denominators, across their divides.

Medieval Europe, for instance, was one civilization. Despite being fragmented into many states, it retained certain aspects common to all kingdoms, such as the usage of Latin as its lingua franca and the prominence of Christianity. The Indian kingdoms that existed for more than the last two millennia similarly formed one civilization, brought together by such aspects as the usage of Sanskrit as its lingua franca and the prominence of Hindu religious traditions. In short, there are thousands of cultures around the world, but there usually is one model of higher culture in any given place and time.

The establishment of the Indian Republic brought together many historical Indian realms into one state, forming what we may refer to as a civilization-state. Europe, in turn, remains one civilization but not one state. What Europe did, however, was to expand the borders of its civilization. Today, countries like the U.S., Canada, and Australia should be understood as a part of the same civilization (often called “Western,” not “European”).

Thus, despite the immense vagueness of the term, there does seem to be a way to define a civilization-state. The trick, it seems, is to define a civilization first – and the key to define civilization is to first define the components of higher culture. Once we achieve the latter, it is not that hard to perceive a civilization-state as a political entity that brings together all, or a vast majority of, the territories which historically shared the same higher culture – the regions for which that higher culture still remains a point of reference.

Or, in other words: What needs to be shared is not necessarily the current higher culture, but the common heritage of higher culture. Latin, for instance, is no longer commonly known in Europe; similarly, many people stopped being Christian. However, there are elements of the same higher culture, and of the same history, being taught across European countries – for instance, the elements of ancient Greek philosophy or the history the Roman Empire. Latin-origin words are to be found in the thousands across European languages. Christianity is still the most commonly followed religion in the West, even though it’s no longer dominant – and no longer a state faith.

Similarly, most people in India do not know Sanskrit, but the language remains a major point of cultural reference, in ways very similar to those in which Latin retains its position in Europe. Sanskrit is important as a language of religious ritual and hundreds of Indian languages share thousands of Sanskrit loanwords. India is officially a secular republic, just like European and other Western countries are secular, but similarly to Christianity in the West, Hinduism remains the religion of majority in India.

But the second question remains unanswered: Does being a civilization-state matter in international relations? When a number of states sharing the same higher culture are united to form one country, does the common denominator of that higher culture affect the foreign policy of this new, wider political entity? Certainly, a larger state has more resources at its disposal (and sometimes more problems to solve) but this does not seem to be in any way connected to the influence of a particular civilization.

Would enclosing a whole civilization, or most of it, in one country, make it a more benign power, or a more aggressive one? There is no clear causality here. Russia, for instance, is currently very aggressive; China increasingly acts aggressively too (though the PRC has not outright invaded a country for the past several decades); India, in turn, is far less belligerent in its foreign policy (barring its relations with Pakistan).

Would enclosing a whole civilization, or most of it, in one country, make it a more democratic and a liberal one, or a more authoritarian one? Again, there does not seem to be a clear connection. Russia and China are authoritarian while India is democratic.

There is, of course, the issue of majoritarianism – the imposition of elements of one culture, such as language or religion, on other communities in the same country. Majoritarianism is a significant tendency in Russia, China, and India alike. However, majoritarianism may as well be an important tendency in a country that is not a civilization-state. Perhaps it may be proven that the risk of majoritarianism is higher in a civilization-state, but the question still remain: Does it matter in terms of foreign policy?

Would being a civilization-state matter when a country encompasses most, but not all, of the territories that share the same cultural heritage, and thus there are other, smaller countries that share it too? Would this cause that civilization-state to attempt to be more dominating, or even aggressive, toward those countries that share the same heritage? Is this how majoritarianism can spread beyond borders? If a heritage of one higher culture is mostly enclosed in one state, is there a tendency to include all other territories that share the same heritage in the same state? It certainly seems that such a tendency exists. The cases I can immediately think of are China’s behavior toward Taiwan, Russia’s toward Ukraine, and India’s toward Nepal.

However, with a closer look these cases turn out to be poles apart. First of all, while it may be argued that India and Nepal belong to the same civilization, the former never tried to annex the latter. New Delhi did, quite recently, speak on behalf of those Nepali minorities that are culturally closest to Indians (the Madhesis), and pressured Kathmandu to treat them better. This is a clear case of how a civilizational affinity may translate to concrete foreign policy steps – and in this case, harsh ones, rather than benign ones. But this instance is as rare as it is clear. Not only did New Delhi refrain from trying to annex Nepal but also the only country that was forced to join India after the initial period of 1947-1948 was Sikkim (in the 1970s). Moreover, while India shares cultural affinities with both the majority community of Sri Lanka (the Sinhalese) and the largest minority (the Tamils), New Delhi also refrained from attempting to annex the island nation. In the 1980s, India also attempted to act as a peacekeeping force between those communities rather than trying to dominate them.

The case of the PRC and the Republic of China (Taiwan) is also complex. Are Beijing’s arguably aggressive designs toward Taiwan a result of (otherwise undoubted) cultural affinities? Or are these designs “simply” caused by the fact that both countries declare themselves to be the true Chinese state? After all, the PRC annexed Xinjiang and Tibet, both of which were actually much further culturally from China. If there are parts of China that are historically not part of the Chinese civilization, these are certainly the Uyghur and the Tibetan regions and not Taiwan – and yet, it was the former that were conquered, not the latter. China’s claim to those territories was again based on the concept of the state, not the civilization: Beijing declared that since an area like Tibet had once been controlled by the Chinese Empire, the PRC had a right to it. In other words: What was being used as a claim was not the common denominator of cultural heritage, but a common denominator of political sovereignty. And the latter does seem to be a much more often-used justifications for imperialist designs than the former.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine seems to be an instance different from the above two. A part of what Moscow used as a justification of its aggression was pure power politics (talk of zones of influence, the “threat” of NATO expansion). Yet, there clearly was a cultural point too. Moscow presented itself as a defender of Russian-speaking Ukrainians – and thus referred to a cultural affinity between Russia and a part of Ukraine: the Russian language. Moreover, in its more radical version, the imperialist Russian narrative on Ukraine denies Ukraine sovereignty. As one such radical, Alexander Dugin, put it, “there’s no Ukraine,” but Ukraine “may find itself a place in an empire of meanings,” which is Russia. An empire of meanings may probably be another way to say civilization-state. People like Dugin perceive Ukraine as “Russia’s smaller brother,” an offshoot of the Russian civilization that should be denied a right to exist as an independent state. If one is to look for a clear case of an imperialist design that is being fuelled by a country defining itself as a civilization-state, it would be here.

In the case of Russia, talk of a civilization-state does seem to serve a foreign policy purpose. It is used as a justification for invading Ukraine, and it is employed to emphasize Russia’s differences with the West – to attempt to prove that Russia is a civilization of its own, different from the Western one, and then to claim that the Western civilization is trying to impose its cultural norms on the Russian one. Then again, these are still just words justifying actions. Had there been no cultural affinity, would Russia have behaved the same way toward its neighbors? Just like Beijing did not need a civilizational affinity to annex Xinjiang and Tibet, Moscow did not need it to attack Georgia or re-conquer Chechnya.

To be clear: I am completely opposed to narratives like those put forward by the likes of Dugin. They demonstrate how a civilization-state may take on a dangerous form, a form that denies sovereignty to a country on the back of shared heritage. It does not have to be that way. India’s foreign policy can hardly be termed imperialistic, and while I believe China’s foreign policy can be defined as such, it remains unclear whether that is particularly caused by the PRC being a civilization-state.

A broader conclusion is that civilization and civilization-state are both terms based on the notion of higher culture. But in international relations, it is usually not culture (soft power) that matters, but hard power, expressed in economic influence and military force – both of which transgress all cultural divides.