The collapse of the great Western empires in 1918 — the Holy Roman, Russian, and Ottoman — once marked the end of an era of rulers who claimed divine sanction. Now, as liberalism weakens under global pressure, the imperial mindset is reasserting itself, reshaping political dynamics from Washington to Beijing.
Historically, empires derived legitimacy from divine or religious authority. In Russia and Turkey, czars and sultans were also spiritual leaders, while European emperors enjoyed papal ties. Their downfall signified the loss of the sacred connection between political rule and divine will, which had shaped the Mediterranean world for centuries.
The Roman transformation from republic to empire provides one of the earliest examples. After the Punic Wars, Rome’s vast territory demanded a professional army. These soldiers, loyal to generals rather than the state, helped elevate strongmen into emperors. The empire’s stability depended on long-term vision — faith in a leader who embodied near-divine continuity — while maintaining republican traditions as checks on daily governance.
In contrast, China’s imperial model relied on the Mandate of Heaven, where the emperor’s legitimacy was proven by peace and prosperity, not divine revelation. Religion and politics were intertwined, but the state itself was the religion. Stability, abundance, and order were signs of heavenly favor, while famine or rebellion indicated divine disapproval. The fall of dynasties was not a mystery of faith but a practical failure of governance.
China’s emperors faced periodic rebellions when order broke down. New dynasties, often emerging from peasant uprisings or religiously driven movements, justified their rise through success. Leaders like Liu Bang of the Han and Zhu Yuanzhang of the Ming began as outlaws or monks, their victories seen as divine proof. Religion in China remained largely personal, unlike the collective faiths of the Abrahamic world.
In the Mediterranean, Islam’s 7th-century expansion reshaped old empires, linking East and West through trade and belief. The fall of Persia opened direct connections between the Mediterranean and Asia, creating a vast cultural and commercial network that lasted for centuries. European colonial expansion later disrupted this order. Backed by New World wealth, Spain, Portugal, and others displaced Muslim traders and used missionary zeal to open new paths to Asia.
From these encounters, Europe absorbed key Eastern concepts: revolution, bureaucracy, and impersonal governance. Alongside its own republican traditions and Christian ethics, these ideas helped forge modern liberal society. Yet the same modernity that emerged from imperial exchange eventually destroyed empires.
By the 19th century, revolutions had replaced monarchs across Europe. The Holy Roman, Russian, and Ottoman empires finally fell after World War I, giving rise to the democratic age. The United States, born as a republic, inherited global leadership and spread the liberal model.
However, modern liberalism now faces new imperial challenges. Nations like China and Russia, rooted in hierarchical traditions, appear more comfortable with concentrated power. China’s Communist Party, replacing emperors with party elders, introduced ideas of equality and democracy but retained a centralized, quasi-imperial structure. Lacking both divine mandate and electoral legitimacy, it now struggles to balance global engagement with ancient notions of authority and hierarchy.
Meanwhile, liberal societies are increasingly burdened by internal contradictions — privacy concerns, social media manipulation, and economic inequality. Technology connects citizens directly to power while eroding traditional checks and freedoms. In this environment, strong centralized systems like China’s appear efficient, while democracies seem fragmented.
The appeal of empire has therefore resurfaced. From Vladimir Putin invoking Orthodox faith to Donald Trump seeking evangelical blessings and North Korea enshrining dynastic divinity, modern rulers echo old claims of sacred rule. China stands out as the only major power without divine justification, facing a choice between reviving imperial ideology or embracing full liberalism.
This global drift toward authoritarianism reflects deeper social fatigue. The liberal order, credited with unprecedented prosperity and longevity, now feels unstable and confusing to many. Nostalgia for order and simplicity fuels support for strong leaders, even at the expense of freedom.
The Catholic Church could again play a decisive role, as governments seek spiritual legitimacy. Pope Francis has promoted synodality — a form of shared governance within the Church — as an alternative to hierarchical or populist extremes. Yet if new empires seek divine validation, the Church may face pressure to choose sides, reminiscent of its role during Europe’s imperial past.
The return of empire could also slow technological and social progress. Historically, liberalism fostered innovation, while centralized regimes consolidated power but stifled creativity. If authoritarian systems dominate, modernity itself could stall, replaced by a static, neo-medieval global order.
This shift is evident in alliances between powerful corporations and political leaders. Tech billionaires and autocrats increasingly collaborate — trading protection and influence for data, control, and profits. Yet, as history shows, in every empire the king ultimately prevails over the privateer.
For the United States, the challenge is existential. Competing against cohesive imperial systems like China, Russia, and Iran, it risks adopting authoritarian habits in the name of strength. The ideological battle is no longer between classes but between open societies and closed systems — between the global citizen and the nationalist ruler.
Whether liberalism can renew itself or succumbs to the imperial revival will determine the next phase of world history. The outcome may decide not only the balance of power but the fate of modernity itself.
