I come from a small Eastern European country that speaks a Latin-based language while being surrounded by mostly Slavic neighbors. When I was in school, our teachers hammered home this proud point about Romania: that we maintained the foundation of our language after almost 2,000 years of being surrounded by empires such as the Austro‑Hungarians, Russians, Ottomans, and Tatars. I was proud too of my people for keeping their language alive under so much pressure, but there was a question I couldn’t quite put to rest: If Romanians preserved their Latin-rooted language for two millennia against mighty empires, why did they abandon their Dacian language after only a century and a half of Roman occupation (106–273 CE)?
The answer appears to be, in both cases, geography—way more than strength of character. The Romans controlled most of the territory that is now Romania, built cities and roads across it, brought in settlers from all over the empire, and made Latin the language of administration, trade, and daily life. That kind of sustained, unified presence changes a language over a few generations.
Above is a map of Romania created with Google Maps. See those mountains in the middle? The Carpathians allowed my Romanian ancestors to avoid becoming part of the Ottoman Empire and get away with their provinces remaining vassal states instead. The Danube, at its widest before reaching the Black Sea, was another strong barrier against southern aggression (the Romans had torn down their bridge when they withdrew from Dacia). Later empires could push in, influence parts of the region, and extract tribute, but geography kept them from ever holding the whole territory at once, let alone reshaping it the way Rome did.
I could go into more detail, but let’s move on to the larger picture.
Prisoners of geography
I’ve always been an avid reader of history, and the more I read, the harder it is to accept simple explanations for anything that’s happening in the world. But Prisoners of Geography: Ten Maps That Explain Everything About the World by Tim Marshall (2016) sheds light on some of the knottiest corners of history.
For instance:
“The conflict in Iraq and Syria is rooted in colonial powers ignoring the rules of geography, whereas the Chinese occupation of Tibet is rooted in obeying them.” (p. 7)
Russia’s obsession with conquering Ukraine also has its roots in geography. Russia’s main ports freeze for several months each year, so Russian leaders look to neighboring Ukraine and Georgia for year‑round warm‑water access. Sevastopol, in the Crimean Peninsula, fits the bill, and that’s a compelling reason for Russia to annex Crimea.
“Africa’s coastline? Great beaches—really, really lovely beaches—but terrible natural harbors. Rivers? Amazing rivers, but most of them are worthless for actually transporting anything, given that every few miles you go over a waterfall.” (p. 116) This could explain why developing Africa’s infrastructure is a harder problem than in other parts of the world.
It seems that large‑scale conflict often has little to do with what people need in order to thrive. Most of us just hope for a quiet life, a safe home, a chance to raise our families in peace. But the places where we live don’t always allow that. Mountains, rivers, coastlines, and fault lines shape the pressures on nations long before any individual makes a choice. Geography might explain why peace can be so fragile, even when ordinary people want nothing more than to get on with their lives.
One important thing the book emphasizes is that the bad guys always claim mitigating circumstances.
“As it is, Putin has no choice: he must at least attempt to control the flatlands to the west. So it is with all nations, big or small. The landscape imprisons their leaders, giving them fewer choices and less room to maneuver than you might think. This was true of the Athenian Empire, the Persians, the Babylonians, and before; it was true of every leader seeking high ground from which to protect their tribe.” (p. 1)
A thought I had while reading this: Of course, geography provides a tidy justification, but ruthless leaders will use geographic pressures to legitimize ambitions that come from somewhere far more personal: a hunger for control, a belief that they are larger than life, a desire to bend the world to their will. People who rule countries rarely get in that role while wishing for a quiet life with their families. And ordinary families get hurt by their unhealthy ambitions.
But wait, there’s more
“Of course, geography does not dictate the course of all events. Great ideas and great leaders are part of the push and pull of history.” (p. 274)
That line made me panic. Because how on earth is the current US president going to understand the intricate dependencies among nations, cultures, climates, and of course geographical constraints? Over and over throughout history, colonial powers inflicted long‑lasting damage by drawing lines on maps they didn’t understand—from the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947 by the British to the division of the two Koreas along the 38th parallel in 1945 by the United States and the Soviet Union.
Ah, but you know who studies all this complicated stuff and is building a network of dependencies across the planet as we speak? China’s leaders. From force-linking Tibet with the rest of the country, to building harbors in Pakistan, to upgrading infrastructure in Africa, to cutting a new canal through Nicaragua (literally changing the map), while lending huge sums of money to Latin American governments—China is making sure it is well positioned to lead the world in the 21st century. It’s a complicated game, but it can be mastered by studying those maps.
Not something our president is capable or willing to do though.
“Most analysis written over the past decade assumes that by the middle of the twenty-first century China will overtake the United States and become the leading superpower. (…) I am not convinced. It may take a century.” (p. 82)
That line made me laugh because this book was written in 2016, when we still had rational people leading the US and the post-WWII world order was something we all took for granted.
I sometimes use Prisoners of Geography as reference when I read the news. For instance, the map on page 215 shows why dropping bombs on North Korea is more likely to hurt South Korea’s Seoul (30 miles away from the demilitarized zone) than Pyongyang. It has to do with plains and mountains, among other things.
And thanks in part to Prisoners of Geography, I know that some of the ideas my fellow Americans believe about their native country are just as incomplete and flattering as my teachers’ conviction that Romania was somehow more special than any other nation in the world.
