In Crude Capitalism, you write that to understand the role of oil in the world market, we need to look at capitalism through its “logics.” What do you mean by that?

I mean that it is important to start with the question of what is it about capitalism as a social system that gives oil a meaning, and in turn, its profound influence over our lives. This builds on Karl Marx’s critique of commodity fetishism, his idea that we tend to think about commodities as if they have some innate power rather than understanding how they are embedded in social systems and relations. Once we ask the question, “What is it about our social system that gives power to oil?” the next question becomes, “Okay, what do we do about that social system?”

Your book unpacks several myths surrounding oil and energy transitions. Could you tell us about some of these myths and why they are important to capitalism as a social system?

One of the big myths is the idea that we are currently undergoing a “green transition” in which fossil-based energy sources are being replaced by renewable sources. Instead, what we see — and this has been the case in energy transitions throughout the history of capitalism — is renewable energy sources not replacing but adding to the consumption of fossil fuels. For example, we often talk about the “transition” from coal to oil around World War II. While it is true that oil became the principal fossil fuel at that moment, it did not replace coal as an energy source. We are consuming more coal today than ever before.

Similarly, although there has been an increase in the use of solar, wind, and other renewable energies, this has done nothing to stop the production and consumption of fossil fuels at ever increasing amounts. So, I think it’s important to reframe this language of transition as a process of energy expansion and addition. An expansion that is far from accidental but responds to capitalism’s need to produce goods and value in ever increasing amounts, and in turn requiring ever-increasing energy throughputs.

In the book, you outline the role of US hegemony in expanding the oil industry and, in turn, the role of oil in cementing the US influence across the world. Specifically, you describe how the US drove the transition from coal to oil, especially in Western Europe. Can you tell us a bit more about that?

Through the early twentieth century, the global oil industry emerged as a US-dominated industry. The US was at the center of oil production, alongside Baku in Azerbaijan. Five out of the seven biggest oil companies were American. This was important because oil was essential to new technological advancements during the first and second World Wars — which were clearly oil wars since the most important instruments of war such as tanks, motorized vehicles, ships, and airplanes were petroleum-based. By the mid-twentieth century, the US played a leading role in the introduction of petrochemicals and synthetic products such as plastics, synthetic rubbers, and fibers, entrenching oil in our daily lives.

Given this structure of the global oil industry and the emergence of a US-centered world order, the transition from coal to oil and the increased use of petrochemicals in Western Europe did not happen in a vacuum. Instead, it was led by the US expanding its position in the market through various initiatives such as the Marshall Plan, which pushed Western European economies toward oil and petrochemicals. This was a push based upon the linking of Western Europe’s energy consumption to the Middle East and the Gulf monarchies’ oil reserves.

What did the US-led transition from coal to oil mean for the Middle East? How did oil shape the “old” and “new” characters in the region?

To understand how the transition to oil shaped the Middle East we need to start with the anti-colonial Arab nationalist and leftist struggles that spread across the region after World War II. These struggles were connected to the weakening of European colonialism, and the global attempt of anti-colonial movements to gain control of their territories and resources, illustrated in the spirit of the Bandung Conference in 1955.

To restore an imperial order in the region and secure Western Europe’s access to oil, the US had to contain the anti-colonial movements and safeguard its allies in the region, in particular Saudi Arabia and the other Gulf monarchies. Since the Gulf states were ruled by unpopular monarchs under threat from the anti-colonial movements in the region, they needed the US military and political support to stay in power — support that integrated the Gulf monarchies into the structure of American power in the Middle East.

After the defeat of Nasserism in the 1967 war, the US stepped in as the main patron of Israel, recognizing its capacity to counter Arab nationalism and the anti-colonial movements threatening US and European interests in the region. Alongside the Gulf monarchies, Israel emerged as a key pillar of US influence in the Middle East. The relationship that developed between the US and its two pillars reflected the decline of European colonialism and the rise of US imperialism. A relationship that continues to this day.

Throughout your book, militarism appears as an important focal point, being described as the “principal driver of oil consumption.” Earlier in our discussion, you called the World Wars “oil wars.” Today we are witnessing the genocide of Palestinians in Gaza and unrestrained militarism. Despite not being one of the central objectives of the genocidal war, what role does oil play?

One of the arguments that can be drawn from this book is that Palestine is not simply a climate issue because of ecocide or massive destruction of the environment but because of the Middle East’s place in the global oil economy. And as I describe above, we need to understand the role of the Gulf states in this. You cannot understand Palestine today without talking about Saudi Arabia and the region’s position as the world’s largest exporter of oil. If the Middle East was the largest exporter of bananas, Israel would not exist in the same kind of way as it does today.

As with anti-militarism, Palestine is also a climate issue. Oil has and continues to be the lifeblood of militaries by fueling military vehicles and providing the petrochemical products that underlie war-making. And while militaries are major culprits in producing emissions, they are not even counted in emission targets set up in the Paris Agreement or the Kyoto Protocol. So, I think it is important to recognize that we will never be able to deal with climate emissions without tackling militarism, and the link between war and oil.

How should activists think about the climate emergency?

We need to move away from seeing the climate emergency as an event that will happen sometime in the future. We are living the climate collapse now — just turn on the news. I think linking the climate with housing, economic collapse, how we structure our cities, transport systems, food production, and questions of militarism, war, and imperialism is essential. To address how these things contribute to climate emergency, we must also stop viewing climate change as a technical challenge and instead show that it is a political and social problem. While there are technical questions that we need to ask, it’s not simply about switching our cars from petrol to electrical vehicles.

It reminds me of a slogan from Rosa Luxemburg: “socialism or barbarism.” I think we are clearly living barbarism today, whether it be in Gaza or in all the ways that the climate collapse is affecting people around the world. It’s going to get worse; we need to be much more cognizant, be prepared to intervene and mobilize. Hopefully, the book can be part of that discussion.

When you state that the problems we need to address are political and social, what are climate justice movements missing by not incorporating capitalism as a social system into their analysis?

In much of the climate justice discourse, a critique of capitalism is often absent. The risk with that is if we do not name the problem and have a systemic view, we risk proposing the wrong solutions. A lot of climate activists alternate between two approaches: either market-based green-capitalist solutions or individualist solutions. Today much of what is being put forward as climate policy are market-led solutions, which includes “false” technologies such hydrogen and biofuels or illusory measures that claim to be able to control emissions, such as carbon offsetting.

Then there are approaches focused on changing individual consumption without challenging the underlying the social system or the way things are produced — a solution that is in many cases extremely elitist since most people do not have the option to fundamentally change their consumption patterns. To remedy this, we need to show what it is about capitalism that structures patterns of production and consumption, and how this has led to the climate emergency that we’re living through.

It’s also interesting how the same contradictions that haunt climate organizers appear in the ongoing mobilization for Palestine. In the case of student encampments for Palestine, demands sometimes reflect this “localized” or “segmented” view and fail to engage with more systemic issues.

There is an emerging critique that academic boycotts do not always target substantial material ties to the Zionist entity and that focusing on academic ties distracts us from organizing around the European funding of the genocidal war. Instead, a lot of the organizing at universities is more focused on ending our complicity rather than transforming the underlying system that is facilitating the genocide.

To respond to this, it is important to distinguish between tactics and strategy. Strategy is about a longer-term orientation aimed at transforming the social system. Tactics are what you do in the here and now to build your strategic power. A university implementing an academic boycott is not going to end the genocide, but it is an extremely important tactic as it raises consciousness among people. And through mobilizing to win a campaign and being able to win that campaign, people feel like: “Actually, we’re not powerless.”

Much like the legal efforts around the [International Criminal Court] and [International Court of Justice], these decisions are not going to stop the genocide today, however, they play a crucial role in building consciousness around Israel’s actions and the reality of that genocide for the average person on the street. So, at a tactical level, these kinds of boycott campaigns are essential. Whether it be an academic boycott, around military links, or energy or corporate links, it’s fundamental to any longer-term strategy.

To wrap up, could you say something about your time working in Palestine during the second intifada. Do you see any parallels between the popular uprisings then and the “student intifada” in Europe?

For the Palestine movement in the 1990s and 2000s, the big question was the Oslo Accords and what they represented. Today the focus is obviously on the genocide. But I do think there is a problem in that there is still not a deep understanding of the Oslo process and the continuities between Oslo, the uprisings, and what we are seeing today. The Gaza Strip, in its current form, is a product of the Oslo Accords.

The blockade, the restrictions around entry, the creation of the Palestinian Authority, the different governing structures are all products of the Oslo Accords. We need to make these continuities more evident, and we need better education for activists around these continuities. Because I’m sure that what comes next is going to be framed as a return to negotiations and false illusions of sovereignty, using much the same language that was used back in the ’90s.

But US- and European-led negotiations are just another mechanism of war. I do think that what’s different today is a sea change in people’s consciousness around Palestine. You can walk down the street [in the United Kingdom] and see Palestinian flags hanging outside of people’s windows; the average person knows what’s going on. We really need to take that change in consciousness and deepen it, and make all the links we’ve talked about. Because there’s the danger that you can see these momentums of struggle rise and then collapse. And that’s exactly what happened after Oslo: movements collapsed, and it took a decade before they were rebuilt. We need to seize the momentum and build capacity to mobilize movements that can last.