Capitalism: Cosmopolitan or National?

Capitalism “emerged” in the 19th century and refers to an economic system in which the ownership and accumulation of capital (financial, productive, or land-based) are the primary drivers of economic activity. While the term is relatively recent, the reality it describes is much older, and its forms have always been historically specific. It is therefore essential to cross-reference this definition with the two opposing adjectives—cosmopolitan and national—that structure today’s debate.

The term “cosmopolitan”, from the Greek kosmos (world) and polites (citizen), literally means “citizen of the world.” Applied to the economic sphere, it refers to a stance that transcends national allegiances in the name of a supposedly neutral universalism (whether commercial, legal, or moral) in which states become secondary, if not obsolete. Opposite this, the term “national,” derived from the Latin natio (“birth,” then “people, community of shared origin”), characterizes that which pertains to a nation—understood as a historical, political, and cultural entity organized within a sovereign framework. In economics, it is associated with policies geared toward the interests of a territory, its population, and its productive apparatus.

So, is capitalism inherently cosmopolitan or national ? Far from dogmatic narratives that pit openness against isolationism, we must explore the real history of capitalism. Behind competing storylines lie logics of economic warfare, sovereignty, and strategic dominance that shape economic trajectories.

The National Genesis of Capitalism

The dominant vision constructed in the post-1945 West portrays capitalism as a spontaneous dynamic born from free markets, contracts, and individual initiative. This liberal narrative, seductive yet ideological, ignores a fundamental historical fact: capitalism was first constructed as an instrument of sovereignty and national power. It did not arise against the state, but within and through it. Its primary purpose was not the maximization of private profit, but the building of national strength against international rivals through production, trade, credit, and innovation.

Britain provides the prototype. Far from some original laissez-faire model, British capitalism was initially mercantilist, protectionist, and militarized. The Navigation Acts (1651–1849) locked down access to English maritime trade via protectionist laws and public financing of both civil and military fleets. One key objective was to escape commercial dependence on the Dutch Republic during the Dutch Golden Age. The Bank of England (1694) was founded to finance wars against France. Early major companies such as the East India Company, Hudson's Bay Company, and South Sea Company acted as semi-state tools of economic conquest in Asia and the Americas. The development of manufacturing in the 18th century was propelled by tariffs, public logistical support, and the Royal Navy, which secured British trade while sabotaging rivals. Free trade was only adopted in the mid-19th century—once British industry was dominant and capable of outcompeting less industrialized rivals.

The United States followed a similar path. As early as the 1790s, Alexander Hamilton outlined a vision of power-driven national capitalism. In his Reports on Public Credit, Manufactures, and a National Bank, he proposed a program for economic independence based on public debt, industrial protectionism, and a central bank. This was carried forward by Henry Clay’s American System in the early 19th century (tariffs, infrastructure, public finance), which would shape industrial policy from Lincoln (Morrill Tariff, Pacific Railway Act, National Banking Acts) to Roosevelt’s New Deal in the 1930s.

Germany followed suit with its own variation. The Zollverein (1834) created a unified customs zone even before political unification. After Prussia forged the German Empire in 1870, the state actively supported universal banks (like Deutsche Bank) that funded Konzerns—giant industrial conglomerates (BAYER, Krupp, Stinnes). Bismarck reinforced protectionism in 1879, and capitalism became a tool for social stability (welfare state), national integration, and international expansion. The bank-industry-state alliance enabled Germany to become a global power within a generation—challenging British supremacy on the eve of World War I.

Thus, capitalism did not emerge as a utopia of free competition, but as a strategy of national power.

The Myth of a “Benevolent” Cosmopolitan Capitalism

The prevailing Western ideology frames “globalist” capitalism as a natural evolution of economics and progress. Freed from borders, this “happy globalization” was meant to replace power politics with multilateral cooperation—sidelining states in favor of individuals and markets. But this narrative rests on a fiction. So-called “cosmopolitan capitalism” is neither neutral, apolitical, nor post-national. It is always structured by a dominant power that cloaks its economic imperialism behind rhetoric (universalism, progress, democratization, etc.).

19th-century Britain is a classic example. Far from altruistic cosmopolitanism, its shift to free trade mid-century was built on prior industrial supremacy. When London turned to open markets, it was already the global economic hegemon. In 1850, with half France’s population, Britain produced over half the world’s iron, two-thirds of its coal, and the majority of its cotton textiles. Free trade was thus a way to export this output globally while maintaining an innovation lead (machinery, rail, science). Yet diplomacy—and more often, military force—remained key to enforcing “peaceful commerce.” The Opium Wars forced China open to British trade, while India—once home to many manufacturers—was deliberately deindustrialized and reduced to a supplier of raw materials.

The United States replicated this logic after 1945, even more so after 1971. In the Cold War context, and under the guise of a multilateral economic order, Washington imposed its rules. GATT, the IMF, the WTO, and dollar convertibility structured a dependency system centered on U.S. currency. The neoliberal “Washington Consensus” of the Reagan era pushed for deregulation in peripheral markets while Wall Street absorbed value. Extraterritorial laws, economic sanctions, the digital monopoly of the GAFAM giants, and the “Canadianization” of European elites all extended this dominance. What is presented as “cosmopolitan capitalism” is, in reality, simply the hegemonic version of U.S. national capitalism. As with 19th-century Britain, imperialism becomes “informal,” based on economic domination rather than territorial occupation.

Liberals, progressives, and utopians can repeat their dogmas endlessly, rename ideas, or reframe concepts, but the structure remains unchanged: there has never been a real break from national capitalism. It has merely expanded in scale to impose itself in imperial form. This model claims to erase borders—but in fact redefines them from the center. It universalizes national interests by presenting them as neutral rules and relies on continuous cognitive warfare to obscure its domination.

National Capitalism and the “Return of History”

For decades, European elites insisted that economic nationalism belonged to the past, turning it into a pejorative. Capitalism, they claimed, had to be open, post-national, and (supposedly) depoliticized. Yet whether we look at Western allies like Japan and South Korea or rising powers like China and India, all have built their economic success on directed, state-aligned capitalism. Since the 2000s—and even more over the last decade—the strategic shift has become clear: the reassertion of national capitalism as the organizing framework of power. This is not a passing phase but a structural shift. It responds to growing resistance to U.S. hegemony, intensifying geo-economic rivalries, and the fragmentation of global supply chains. States are reclaiming control over their resources, technologies, and critical infrastructure. Economic warfare has become central, explicit, and fully integrated into national strategy.

China illustrates this shift most clearly. With Deng Xiaoping’s reforms (1978), Beijing adopted a strategy of power through economics. Entry into the WTO in 2001 allowed it to capture globalization flows—under tight control by the party-state. Chinese capitalism is neither liberal nor autonomous: it is steered and aligned with national objectives. Programs like Made in China 2025, the Belt and Road Initiative, monopolies on rare earths, and the militarization of high-tech sectors (AI, semiconductors, batteries) all reflect a power-centric capitalism. Finance is not a tool of speculation but of state control. The market is subordinate to the nation.

Facing this new power dynamic, the U.S. has had to adapt—its informal imperialism no longer sufficient. Washington has been undergoing a kind of “re-nationalization” of its capitalism. Trump’s first term marked the pivot: return of tariffs, trade wars, industrial reshoring, tech conflict with China. Under Biden, the shift continued and expanded: Inflation Reduction Act, Buy America Act, value chain task forces, strategic infrastructure, and massive incentives for domestic production. Trump’s re-election in 2024 cemented this evolution. U.S. capitalism has returned to protectionist, strategic roots—echoing Hamilton. The goal is no longer openness, but control: locking down critical supply chains, attracting capital, restoring economic sovereignty, and rebuilding a robust productive base.

In contrast, European elites remain caught between denial and paralysis. The EU has begun to shift—but without assuming the consequences. Germany speaks of a Zeitenwende (epochal change), but faces the cost of structural dependencies (on Russian energy, Chinese trade, migrant labor, U.S. security). France dreams of reindustrialization amid a debt crisis. The EU expresses industrial and military ambitions but still refuses to see itself as a power. While Europeans are rediscovering the importance of economic strategy, without the proper conceptual tools or defined doctrine, solutions will remain elusive. In a world where economics has returned to being a field of conflict and international tensions are rising, statements are not enough—only a coherent and deliberate political strategy will suffice.

The return of national capitalism is not an anachronism, but a rational adaptation to the exhaustion of financialized Western capitalism and the emergence of new powers. Sovereignty is once again both the starting point and the ultimate goal. For Europe’s elites, this requires a complete intellectual revolution. Without it, the continent risks permanent relegation to the margins of 21st-century history.

A New Framework: Capitalism as a Technology of Power

Mainstream thinking continues to oppose capitalism and the state, market and political strategy—as if the former were spontaneous and the latter intrusive or parasitic. But this dichotomy is historically false, conceptually weak, and strategically dangerous. Capitalism has never been a “natural order”—and never will be. It is a political technology of power: mobilizable, steerable, and malleable. The question today is not whether to exit capitalism (an illusion), but how to use it to defend one’s interests. This reinterpretation invalidates sterile oppositions between national capitalism and “cosmopolitan capitalism.” Neoliberalism and globalization are not the essence of capitalism, but specific geopolitical configurations—reliant on conditions (hegemonic power, reserve currency, military superiority, tech standard control, etc.) that are now being challenged.

We must therefore embrace a new strategic reading of capitalism—not a moral one (“pro” or “anti”), but an instrumental one.

Russia is reorganizing its economy around extractive, militarized capitalism driven by energy rents. Iran has developed a clandestine capitalism of sanctions evasion and resistance, run through the Revolutionary Guards. Turkey builds national capitalism on a military-industrial complex, exploiting regional rivalries to bolster its strategic autonomy. India combines selective protectionism with deep integration into global value chains (digital, pharma, agrochemicals). Vietnam follows a hybrid strategy: single-party rule with an open economy, foreign investment, free zones, and regional integration—while protecting national industrial champions. Morocco is developing a logistical and industrial intermediary capitalism, aiming to become a hub between Europe and Sub-Saharan Africa, combining port infrastructure (Tanger Med), free zones, industrial upscaling (automotive, aerospace), and proactive economic diplomacy. All are adapting their economic architecture to fit their power strategies.

It is time for France and Europe to shake off their ideological blindness. The only relevant question is not whether capitalism is “good” or “bad,” but: “Does it serve our interests, or someone else’s?” The goal is not to “free” the market, but to reclaim it as a strategic battlefield. Capitalism is neither global nor neutral—it is a weapon, a lever, a field of force, whose shape depends entirely on what nations choose to make of it.