Do We Know War ?  

(c) 2005, Paul Kotik                                                                Hit Counter        BACK TO COMMENTARY PAGES INDEX

                America's global military supremacy was proposed  by the triumphs of the Second World War and  ratified by a 40-years' deterrence and subsequent defeat  of the  Soviet Empire.  Along the way there have been a number of campaigns of relatively compact dimensions in which American will was thwarted without  calling her technical  supremacy into question. 

                The proposition that these, the  ambiguous outcomes, have been the issue of  a fickle electorate  rather than a reflection of   military impotence  is hardly  controversial, yet the national leadership is habitually bewildered as to  the  practical matter: how the national  will to prevail in war  is to be excited and directed.

                The key to  perseverance in the sort of warfare  we've seen since Nagasaki , then, lies  in the ubiquity and degree  of  citizen participation in the national security enterprise. Arousing this participation is one of the duties  of  leadership, and  insofar as we democrats get the leaders we deserve, it is the electorate which must be held to account  for the disappointments in Korea and Vietnam and our timidity in  the war with Islamist jihad.  We lose when we vote to lose, and we vote to lose when we are unimpressed by the costs of defeat. When we can't be bothered to carry on.

             Whence our indolence ?

             One damaging  ( although not wholly unanticipated ) result of ending the military draft  has  been a withering of martial lore in the culture. It's unfashionable. Until about  1950,  when  Americans numbered 150 millions (half of the present population)  and for another 25 years or so, it would have been well nigh impossible to locate an  adult male American citizen  who was not a past,  present or prospective serviceman , or who did not count servicemen among his intimates.  A sense of  things military, and of the nature and conduct of war was more or less universal in American society.

             No longer. Moreover , in the vanguard of popular culture  the academy  is discovered to have declared a Utopian Age ,  prematurely as it turns out, and so we study war no more. 

             An American born  in  or after 1953  has by default  an entirely   civilian biography, writing a  military chapter  only upon taking the initiative and passing through the volunteer forces’ selection filters.  First-hand  experience of  soldiering , and of war,  is now the property of a relatively small and increasingly distinct martial  class.  The general public’s exposure to these things comes from a mass media staffed largely by people whose understanding of the matter  is ideologically driven, anecdotal, or entirely  wanting.

             This convivial alienation of  the general public from the professional military  is  most apparent at  points of direct contact. In venues such as television news programs and in press conferences, the experts’  informed discourse is almost certain to be misapprehended, insofar as it presumes a grasp of fundamentals their   interlocutors and viewers generally do not have.   It’s  difficult to  address complex matters of any sort without a common set of basic understandings and a shared, specialized lexicon.  Military  presentation is mapped through ignorance and caprice to the civilian experience, and  saleable journalism  is necessarily so reduced  and incomplete as to be essentially false.  The questions asked at Pentagon press conferences by highly intelligent,  well-intentioned (and well-paid) journalists are an excellent  illustration of this problem. The stupidity of some of these questions is astounding.  As the physicist Pauli said of a rival theory, their relation to reality  is  such  that it’s not even wrong.

             This, when none would contest the observation that war is  one of the elementary  forces which shape the human order.   Yet the subject is absent  from the curricula of our secondary  schools and universities,  excepting a handful of arch-traditionalist privates and the military academies. Wars in their particulars  are taught and studied, to be sure. Date started, date ended, causes-of, principle battles : that  handful of  bullet points which will be on the final exam. But war itself - the art, science, functions, purposes, morality and human nature of war, of which particular wars are instantiations - is not in the syllabus.

            This revision  is  an   artifact of  that progressive social transformation  which,  coupled with the effective segregation of our military classes,  has bred an electorate which is increasingly ill-informed and subject to misleading itself in these matters of life and death. Its own.

            It is, on the one hand, granted that a soldier’s experience imprints upon him, or her,  a deep understanding of war. No less confidence is apparent in the belief  that  a soldier learns little of the grand scheme of things, so  that  all consideration of war is  best left to annointed intellectuals. The position du jour is determined by expediency.

             In fact, the only certain yield of  a soldier’s experience, no matter how intense or how horrific,  is a greater or lesser knowledge of soldiering. War is a related, but distinct intellectual domain.

            Our vernacular now takes ‘war’ and  ‘combat’ as synonyms.  A state of war is thought to exist when and only when two or more adversaries are actively engaged in combat operations.  The Cold War was  in this view a metaphorical war, and the one  between jihad and  dar al-harb began when President George W. Bush sent a U.S.-led military coalition into Afghanistan.  The slightly more discerning  mainstream view goes back to the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, or perhaps to the 1991 Gulf War to mark the beginning of the present hostilities between the United States and an uncircumscribed but certainly Islamic enemy.

            In politics, as in all of the natural world,  no niche is left unfilled. Our vacuity is an empty course  upon which politicians  build out their electoral prospects.   Senator Kerry's remarkable transformation from short-time  Swift Boat commander to Clauswitzian sage is a fine example. It is entirely likely that Kerry himself believes in it. A great many voters did.  Instances of catastrophic security policy shaped by academic Sun-Tzus are innumerable. Former officers with political ambitions assure us that there is no war on at all. Retired General Wesley Clark did so  in a television interview only hours after the July 7, 2005 London terror bombings in which over 50 civilians were killed. It is, he declared, time for hard police work. A criminal matter, is all. We sense that we are ill-equipped to construct our own views on matters of war and peace, and so we shop for them at retail. This is a marketer's dream come true, and the end of any marketplace role for substance and reason. Anything that is well-packaged and promoted can be sold.

            It is not so much our awareness of  the horrors of combat that dilutes our national will to preserve ourselves, though glimpses of the horror are now visible, on television, to everyone. Pop artists  and "anti-war" propagandists have made a fine job of getting the point across, however abstractly, that horror follows from combat. This seeming immediacy lies, however,  on the periphery of our  core structural weakness.  We are frightened and appalled by Hollywood’s simulations of battle and its aftermath, and correctly infer that the real thing is even more dreadful.  We understand that part.

           The  deeper  threat to our society’s  willingness  to persevere and finally prevail in this Thirteen Centuries War  stems, rather,  from a deficit of fundamental  knowledge and the reflection which follows from it.  The problem  begins with our schooled  denial of the complexity inherent  even  in the elementary  concepts of "war" and of  "peace". Well-meaning people across the cultural and political spectrum  take it for granted that peace (defined , it is thought, by the absence of combat)  is always preferable to all other things. In practice all but a handful of axiomatic pacifists are easily induced to concede that this is not so. The concession, a fruit of our common gift of reason, only rarely comes as an epiphany or yields a lasting change of heart, for it is contrary to the common faith. Everybody knows that peace is the way - whatever that means.

             This is particularly salient to the outcome of the current phase of the Thirteen Centuries War of jihad, which has followed a relatively lengthy period  in which combat between the Islamic and non-Islamic worlds was  the exception rather than the rule. This is a war in which our enemies' definition of  ‘peace’ is radically different from our own.  Very nearly half of the American electorate has recently favored such a peace.  Europe has manifestly sued for it, the result being the accelerating progression of  Eurabian dhimmitude so chillingly documented by  historian Bat Ye’or.  

                Yes, postmodern conflicts between the West and her enemies  are waged in the hearts and minds of the democratic  electorates. The military asymmetry in the war of jihad, overwhelmingly favoring the West, calls our attention to this truism. Impotent on the battlefield,  our enemies have relied upon terror, deception, patience and relentlessness. Their longitudinal  view of  war ought to signal us that  our  educational  system is a decisive theater  in  this  existential struggle. What we teach today  will mature with the careers of  the student cohort as it  succeeds  to positions of influence in politics,  media, the sciences and humanities. They will have to know war better than we do if they are to survive and prosper.

             The survival of  the West, then,  hinges to no small degree upon  bringing the study of war to the rising generations,  on a par with the other fundamentals such as mathematics, chemistry and business administration. As unattractive as the notion will be to the biens pensants, the study of war is properly one  of the Humanities. The fact that at present its proper instruction  would require a multi-disciplinary faculty speaks volumes about the musty attic we’ve hidden it away in,  as though it were a leperous  relative.  It does not even have a name, though it is arguably the Mother of All Disciplines. Without it, there were no others.

              Perhaps the faint   will be soothed  by a reminder that  learning war and learning peace are one and the same, and will develop a wholesome interest in features of the peace now offered:  the terms under which the Islamist will stop making war on us.   The traditional  Achilles heel of liberal societies has been that selfsame Athenian tendency which enables our gentle civil order and animates  intellectual dynamism. Our queasy disdain for Sparta disposes our better natures  to the view  that all peaces are created equal,  and  are preferable, in any case, to  the alternatives. This failure of discrimination is our vulnerability.  In asymmetric warfare, the militarily weaker of the adversaries studiously avoids combat while vigorously prosecuting his war aims. His  plan  is based upon a clear, fundamental  distinction between war and combat, and so exploits the openings our insensibility affords him. Sun Tzu would approve, for this is an attack upon our strategy itself.

             If we do not study war, we will be prone to elevating Chamberlains, rather than Churchills,  to the seats of   power.  The mechanics of this tendency are  similar  to those described by Hayek for collectivist polities  and the varieties  of apparatchiks who flourish therein. An uneducated electorate easily drifts toward pacifism as an article of faith and so  tends to favor  precisely those politicians least likely to assure its survival.

             The thirteen centuries of war against Islamist jihad have, of course,  seen some  periods of intense combat, one of which has begun only recently. The now-global dimensions of the war  and  the enemy’s innovations (many derived from our own Western technologists and totalitarians)  are daunting. The magnitude of the challenge to our existence and the widespread  lassitude  across Western  ideological factions are  powerful arguments for general mobilization.

             The nature of  postmodern warfare  is such that this no longer seems to imply  mass conscription, victory gardens, ration cards,  Riveters Rosy and  other varieties of  pre-Hiroshima emergency measures. General mobilization in this  evolved paradigm is nonetheless  a necessary component of the assembled  means by which a contentious, liberal Western democracy can persuade itself to persevere and to apply its overwhelming military might to assuring victory in the struggle against jihad.

            The enemy has a long view of the conflict. He has waged his war for thirteen centuries and is of a mind to go on until he has either met the core requirement of his  ideology,  fulfillment of  jihad,  or has met  total and  final defeat.  The West has only lately renewed its tentative defense, reluctantly mustered by American leadership and  darkly suspicious of Israeli solidarity. We are famously impatient  and short-term in our strategic thinking. This is what has enabled  the jihad to regroup and continue  after  successive and unsurprising  battlefield catastrophes. If our desire is to be free, finally, of the existential threat posed by Islamist jihad, we must accept the trans-generational schedule  our millennial failures have bequeathed us, effect a general mobilization of our national will, and prepare for a long and arduous trial.

            Our high school and university curricula will have to be enriched by the proper study of war, so that our sacrifice and that of those who came before us is not cast away by the ballot, and along with it the ballot box itself.