Governing from the Skies. Thomas Hippler

      Contents

       Acknowledgements

       Prologue

      1Land, Sea, and Air

      2Towards Perpetual Peace

      3The Knights of the Sky

      4The Colonial Matrix

       5Civilization, Cosmopolitism, and Democracy

       6People and Populace

       7Philosophy of the Bomb

       8Making and Unmaking a People

       9‘Revolutionary War’ beneath the Nuclear Shield

       10World Governance and Perpetual War

       Notes

       Index

       Acknowledgements

      My thanks first of all to Nicolas Vieillescazes, not only for his support and encouragement throughout the writing of this book, but above all for the impeccable editorial work he contributed. Whatever people may say, publishing houses do still have editors! Several people have made it possible for this book to be born, each in their own way, and at different stages and moments. I particularly have to thank Jérémie Barthas for materialism in theory; Adila Benedjai-Zou for soft drinks and Sundays; Axel Berger for table tennis and revolution; Antje Bonhage for Berlin; Chiara Bottici for the radical Enlightenment; Aurélie Blanchard for art, architecture, and whisky sour; Sebastian Budgen for a mine of information; Benoît Challand for New York; Grégoire Chamayou for ‘patterns of life’; Xavier Chatel for world politics and good meals; Antony Dabila for strategy; Thomas Deltombe for weapons; François Dumasy for Rome; Alexander Gumz for poetry; Isik Gurleyen for international relations theory and Turkey; Wolfgang Hardtwig for all his advice and support; Klaus, Petra, Annika, and Benjamin Hippler for their unfailing support; Vincent Jacques for overcoding and axiomatics; Oliver Janz for the invitation; Sara Jassim for graphic design; Razmig Keucheyan for his support and discussions on internationalism; Dieter Langewiesche for his criticism; Anne Lepoittevin for the razor and the latitanza; Chantal Malambri for Situationism; Nicola Marcucci for the title and for Berlin nights; Élise Marrou for philosophy and the Loire; Sarah Mazouz for intersectionality; Aïcha Messina for Chile; Pino Messina for Umbria; Roberto Nigro for many things over many years; Vannina Olivesi for dance and sushi; Germinal Pinalie for a volcano of ideas; Hélène Quiniou for the art of formulation; Mathieu Rigouste for the arms industry; Kahena Sanaâ for the pauses; Delphine Simon for theatre, wine, and all the good moments spent during the writing of this book; Arnault Skornicki for the social history of political ideas; Jörg Stickan for beer and literature; Hew Strachan for the First World War; Bo Strath for his kindness and benevolence; Savina Tarsitano for Calabria; Spiros Tegos for Athens; Julien Théry for his evenings; Benno Teschke for geopolitics; Chloé Thomas for translation and rock’n’roll; Miloš Vec for peace; Jérôme Vidal for friendship; Julien Vincent for technophilia; and Caterina Zanfi for the philosophy of war. My warmest gratitude here to them all.

       Prologue

      Tripoli, 1 November 1911. ‘I decided that today I would try to drop bombs from the aeroplane. No one had ever tried such a thing, and if I succeed I shall be happy to have been the first,’ Lieutenant Giulio Gavotti wrote in a letter to his father. The engineer from Genoa had obtained his pilot’s wings just at the time that the Italian government decided to embark on the conquest of a colonial empire in Libya. Gavotti’s record to date was limited to an unauthorized flight above the Vatican, which led to his detention for a few days, and to second place in a race between Bologna and Venice. But in late September 1911 things began to hot up in Libya: the Sublime Porte had refused to cede Tripoli and Italy declared war on the Ottoman Empire. Less than a week later, the city fell into the hands of the Italians. As a member of a small ‘airmen’s flotilla’, Gavotti was posted to Africa a few days after his twenty-ninth birthday.

      At dawn on 1 November, Gavotti took