The Reality of War: A Companion to Clausewitz
CHAPTER VII
THE NATURE OF WAR
"It is necessary for us to commence with a glance at the nature of the whole, because it is particularly necessary that, in the consideration of any of the parts, the whole should be kept constantly in view. We shall not enter into any of the abstruse definitions of war used by Publicists. We shall keep to the element of the thing itself, to a duel. War is nothing but a duel on an extensive scale. If we would conceive as a unit the countless numbers of duels which make up a war, we shall do so best by supposing two wrestlers. Each strives by physical force to throw his adversary, and thus to render him incapable of further resistance.
"Violence arms itself with the inventions of arts and science in order to contend against violence. Self-imposed restrictions, almost imperceptible, and _hardly worth mentioning_, termed _usages of International Law_, accompany it without essentially impairing its power.
"Violence, that is to say physical force, is therefore _the Means_; the compulsory submission of the enemy to our will is the ultimate _object_. In order to attain this object fully the enemy must first be disarmed: and this is, correctly speaking, the real aim of hostilities in theory."[17]
Now, "philanthropists may easily imagine that there is a skilful method of disarming and overcoming an adversary without causing great bloodshed, and that this is the proper tendency of the art of war. However plausible this may appear, _still it is an error which must be extirpated_, for in such dangerous things as war _the errors which proceed from a spirit of benevolence are just the worst_. As the use of physical power to the utmost extent by no means excludes the co-operation of the intelligence, it follows that _he who uses force unsparingly without reference to the quantity of bloodshed_, MUST _obtain a superiority if his adversary does not act likewise_." "To introduce into the philosophy of war itself a principle of moderation would be an absurdity." "We therefore repeat our proposition, that _War is an act of violence which in its application knows no bounds_."
THE POLITICAL NATURE OF WAR
In endeavouring briefly to describe Clausewitz's method of looking at war, one is continually confronted by the difficulty of selecting a few leading ideas out of so many profound thoughts and pregnant passages. However, a selection must be made.
I assign the first place to his conception of war as a part of policy, because that is fundamentally necessary to understand his practical way of looking at things. This point of view is as necessary for the strategist as for the statesman, indeed for every man who would understand the nature of war. For otherwise it is impossible to understand the military conduct of many campaigns and battles, in which the political outweighed the military influence, and led to action incomprehensible almost from a purely military point of view. History is full of such examples.
Clausewitz clearly lays down: "_War is only a continuation of State policy by other means._ This point of view being adhered to will introduce much more unity into the consideration of the subject, and things will be more easily disentangled from each other."[18] "It is only thus that we can obtain a clear conception of war, for the political view is the _object_, war is the _means_, and the means must always include the object in our conception." "Each (nation or government) strives by physical force to compel the other to submit to its will."[19]
Owing to the great importance of this point of view, so little understood in this country, I have devoted the next chapter to it alone, so as to bring out Clausewitz's view more in detail. We can, therefore, pass on for the present.
THE CULMINATING POINT OF VICTORY
Secondly, I select his doctrine of the culminating point of victory, because that is essential in order to understand his division of all wars into two classes, according to how far the attack is likely to be able to extend into the hostile country before reaching its culminating point, where reaction may set in.[20]
"The conqueror in a war is not always in a condition to subdue his adversary completely. Often, in fact almost _universally, there is a culminating point of victory_. Experience shows this sufficiently."[21] As the attack or invasion progresses it becomes weaker even from its successes, from sieges or corps left to observe fortified places, from the troops required to guard the territory gained, and the lengthening line of communications, from the fact that we are removing further from our resource while the enemy is falling back upon and drawing nearer to his, from the danger of other States joining in to prevent the utter destruction of the defeated nation, from the rousing of the whole nation in extremity to save themselves by a people's war, from the slackening of effort in the victorious army itself, etc., etc. Leoben, Friedland, Austerlitz, Moscow, are instances of such a culminating point, and probably in the late Russo-Japanese war Harbin would have proved so, too, if peace had not intervened.
Clausewitz continues: "It is necessary to know how far it (our preponderance) will reach, in order not to go beyond that point and, instead of fresh advantage, reap disaster." He defines it as "_The point at which the offensive changes into the defensive_," and says, "to overstep this point is more than simply a useless expenditure of power yielding no further results, it is a _destructive_ step which causes reaction, and the reaction is, according to all experience, productive of most disproportionate effects."[22] The reader will find it an interesting exercise to search for this culminating point of victory in historical campaigns, and mark the result where it has been overstepped and where it has not been overstepped.
THE TWO CLASSES OF WARS
From this consideration of the culminating point of victory follow the two classes into which Clausewitz divides all wars.
"The two kinds of war are, first, those in which the object is the complete _overthrow of the enemy_, whether it be that we aim at his destruction politically, or merely at disarming him and forcing him to conclude peace on our terms; and, _next_, those in which our aim is merely to make some conquests on the frontiers of his country, either for the purpose of retaining them permanently, or of turning them to account as matters for exchange in the settlement of Peace."[23]
All wars, therefore, are wars for the complete destruction of the enemy, _i.e._ "unlimited object," or wars with a "limited object." In the plan of a war it is necessary to settle which it is to be in accordance with our powers and resources of attack compared with the enemy's resources for defence, and where our culminating point of victory is likely to be, on this side of the enemy's capital or beyond it. If the former--then the plan should be one with a "limited object," such as the Crimea, Manchuria, etc.; if the latter--then the plan should aim at the enemy's total destruction, such as most of Napoleon's campaigns, or the Allies in 1813, 1814, 1815, or as 1866, or 1870. As Clausewitz says: "_Now, the first, the grandest, and most decisive act of judgment which the statesman and general exercises, is rightly to understand in this respect the war in which he engages_, not to take it for something or to wish to make of it something which, by the nature of its relations, it is impossible for it to be. _This, therefore, is the first and most comprehensive of all strategical questions._"[24]
In Clausewitz's two plans for war with France in 1831,[25] this difference is plain. In the first plan, he considered Prussia, Austria, the German Confederation, and Great Britain united as allies against France,--and with this great superiority of numbers he plans an attack by two armies, each of 300,000 men, one marching on Paris from Belgium, one on Orleans from the Upper Rhine. In the second plan the political conditions had meanwhile changed; Austria and Great Britain were doubtful, and Clausewitz held it accordingly dubious if Prussia and the German Confederation alone could appear before Paris in sufficient strength to guarantee victory in a decisive battle, and with which it would be permissible to venture even beyond Paris. So he proposed to limit the object to the conquest of Belgium, and to attack the French vigorously the moment they entered that country.
Which strict limitation of the object within the means available to attain it is characteristic of Clausewitz's practical way of looking at things. In each plan, however, a vigorous offensive aiming at a decisive victory was to be adopted.
PREPARATION FOR WAR
The third place, in respect to its present-day importance, I assign to Clausewitz's clear statement that--
"If we have clearly understood the result of our reflections, then the activities belonging to war divide themselves into two principal classes, into such as are only _preparations for war_ and into _the war itself_. This distinction must also be made in theory."
Nothing could be more clearly stated than this, or place in greater honour peace preparations. Like his doctrine of the importance of gaining public opinion in war, it is one of those almost prophetic utterances which make Clausewitz the germ of modern military evolution.
Clausewitz, unlike Jomini who did not, foresaw to a certain extent (probably owing to his employment in organizing the new Prussian short-service army after 1806) the nation-in-arms of the present day. And, since his time, the greater the forces which have to be prepared, the greater has become the value of preparation for war. It has been continually growing, till to-day it has obtained such overwhelming importance that one may almost say that a modern war is practically (or nearly so) decided _before_ war breaks out, according to which nation has made the greatest and most thorough peace preparations.
Clausewitz elsewhere speaks of "every imaginable preparation." We may nowadays almost go so far as to say that preparation is war, and that that nation which is beaten in preparation is already beaten BEFORE the war breaks out.
A failure to understand this fact is a fundamental error at the root of the idea of war as held by civilians, for many of them think that speeches are a substitute for preparations.
It is plain that these three ideas of Clausewitz regarding the nature of war, its political nature, the distinction between wars with an unlimited object and a limited object, and preparations in peace-time, are as much matters for the statesman as for the soldier, and require study and reflection on the part of the former as much as on the part of the latter.
FRICTION IN WAR
I place friction here before the more detailed consideration of actual war, of war in itself, because it is that which distinguishes war on paper from real war, the statesman's and soldier's part from the part of the soldier only, and is therefore to be fitly treated midway between the two.
Friction in war is one of Clausewitz's most characteristic ideas. He always looks at everything from that point of view, and as friction and the fog of war, and their influence on human nature will always be the chief characteristic of real war as distinguished from theoretical war or war on paper, it is chiefly this habit or mode of thought which makes his writings of such great and permanent value. It is also a habit which we ought sedulously to cultivate in ourselves.
"_In war everything is very simple, but the simplest thing is difficult_,"[26] runs his famous saying. Why is the simplest thing difficult? Because of the friction of war. And how can that friction be minimized? Only by force of character, and the military virtues of discipline, perseverance, resolution, energy, and boldness. Hence the great emphasis which he always and everywhere lays upon character and these military virtues as the deciding factors in war.
"_Friction is the only conception which in a general way corresponds to that which distinguishes real war from war on paper_," he says. Each individual of the army "keeps up his own friction in all directions." "The danger which war brings with it, the bodily exertions which it requires, augment this evil so much that they may be regarded as the greatest causes of it."[27] "_This enormous friction is everywhere brought into contact with chance_, and thus facts take place upon which it was impossible to calculate, their chief origin being chance. As an instance of one such chance take the weather. Here the fog prevents the enemy from being discovered in time,--a battery from firing, or a report from reaching the general. The rain (mud) prevents a battalion from arriving,--or the cavalry from charging effectively, because it had stuck fast in the heavy ground." And so on. Consider for examples the foggy mornings of Jena or Austerlitz, of Eylau, the Katzbach, Grosbeeren, Dennewitz, Pultusk, Dresden, Sadowa; or the mud of Poland, the snow of Russia, or, latest, the mud of Manchuria.
"_Activity in war is movement in a resistant medium._" "_The knowledge of friction is a chief part of that so often talked of experience in war_, which is required in a good general." "It is therefore this friction which makes that which appears easy in war so difficult in reality."[28] In considering any situation in war we must therefore always add to the known circumstances--friction.
WAR ITSELF
In Clausewitz's way of looking at war itself I assign at once the first place to his doctrine, "_The destruction of the enemy's military force is the leading principle of war_, and for the whole chapter of positive action _the direct way to the aim_."[29] This dictum, repeated in many different forms, underlies his whole conception of war. All the old theoretical ideas about threatening by manoeuvring, conquering by manoeuvring, forcing the enemy to retreat by manoeuvring, and so forth, in which his predecessors entangled strategy, and from which even the Archduke Charles and Jomini had not completely freed themselves, he brushes aside by "our assertion is that ONLY great tactical results can lead to great strategical results."[30] Thus he leads and concentrates our thoughts in strategy on the central idea of victory in battle, and frees us once for all from the obscuring veil of lines and angles and geometrical forms by which other writers have hidden that truth. "Philanthropists may easily imagine that there is a skilful method of overcoming and disarming an adversary without causing great bloodshed, and that this is the proper tendency of the art of war. However plausible this may appear, _it is an error which must be extirpated_, for, in such dangerous things as war, _the errors which spring from a spirit of benevolence are just the worst_."[31] For "he who uses force unsparingly without reference to the quantity of bloodshed, _must_ obtain the superiority if his adversary does not act likewise." And the "worst of all errors in wars" is still the idea of war too commonly held by civilians in this country, as witness the outcries which greeted every loss during the South African war, which shows how much Clausewitz is needed as a tonic to brace their minds to the reality.
"War is an act of violence which in its application knows NO bounds." "Let us not hear of generals who conquer without bloodshed; if a bloody slaughter be a horrible sight, then that is a ground for paying more respect to war (for avoiding unnecessary war), but not for making the sword we wear blunt and blunter by degrees from feelings of humanity, till some one steps in with a sword that is sharp, and lops off the arm from our body."
SIMPLE PLANS
The second place I assign to his doctrine of _the simplest plans_, because time is required for the completion of complicated evolutions, but "a bold, courageous, resolute enemy will not let us have _time_ for wide-reaching skilful combination."[32] "By this it appears to us that the advantage of simple and direct results over those that are complicated is conclusively shown."
"We must not lift the arm too far for the room given to strike," or the opponent will get his thrust in first.
"Whenever this is the case, we must ourselves choose the shorter." "Therefore, far from making it our aim to gain upon the enemy by complicated plans, _we must always rather endeavour to be beforehand with him by the simplest and shortest_."
STRATEGIC LINES
The salient and re-entrant frontiers, the subtle distinctions between the numerous kinds of strategic lines, and lines of operation, and lines of manoeuvre, etc., etc., etc., which in Jomini and his predecessors and followers play so great, so pedantic, and so confusing a part,--for these Clausewitz has little respect. In his chapter on "The Geometrical Element,"[33] he says, "We therefore do not hesitate to regard it as an established truth that _in strategy more depends upon the number and magnitude of the victorious battles than on the form of the great lines by which they are connected_."[34] Of course he does not altogether leave out such considerations, but the above sentence shows how he regards them as only of minor importance. He therefore frees us from a great deal of pedantry, and takes us back to the heart of things.
FRICTION
has been already dealt with, so no more need be said here, except about its components.
DANGER
"An ordinary character never attains to complete coolness" in danger. "Danger in war belongs to its friction, and a correct idea of it is necessary for truth of perception, and therefore it is brought under notice here."[35]
BODILY EXERTION
Clausewitz says that bodily exertion and fatigue in war "put fetters on the action of the mind, and wear out in secret the powers of the soul." "Like danger, they belong to the fundamental causes of friction."[36]
To one who, like Clausewitz, had seen the retreat from Moscow, the awful passage of the Beresina, and the battle of the nations round Leipzig, bodily exertion could not be overlooked. Had he not seen bodily exertion and hardship break up the Grand Army into a small horde of stragglers, and destroy the army of Kutusoff in almost an equal measure, in 1812, as well as practically ruin the spirit, and largely break up the great army of Napoleon in 1813?
As for the effects of bodily exertion on the mind, purpose, and resolution of the general, compare Benningsen at Eylau after thirty-six hours in the saddle, or Napoleon at Dresden, by which he lost all the results of his victory.
INFORMATION IN WAR
"_The foundation of all our ideas and actions_," but "in a few words, _most reports are false_." "When in the thick of war itself one report follows hard upon the heels of another, it is fortunate if these reports in contradicting each other show a certain balance of probability." In another passage, in order to illustrate this perpetual uncertainty under which all decisions in war have to be made, he compares two opposing commanders to two men fighting in a dark room and groping uncertainly for one another.
"These things which as elements meet together in the atmosphere of war and make it a _resistant medium for every activity_, we have designated danger, bodily exertion, information, and friction."[37] He never loses sight of this; it pervades everything he writes.
THE MORAL AND PHYSICAL
"And therefore the most of the subjects which we shall go through in this book are composed _half of physical, half of moral causes and effects_, and we might say that the physical are almost no more than the wooden handle, whilst the moral are the noble metal, the real bright polished weapon."[38] Pages might be filled with extracts showing his opinion that the moral is everything in war, but the reader is already convinced of that. Compare Napoleon's in war, "The moral is to the physical as three to one." Clausewitz regards all military questions from this point. His psychological attitude is what chiefly characterizes Clausewitz from all writers who came before him, and which makes his deductions so realistic, so interesting and so valuable for all who come after him.
TENSION AND REST IN WAR
In order not to weary the reader I will bring this chapter to a conclusion with one or two extracts relating to "tension and rest; the suspension of the act in warfare." This is explanatory of those frequent halts which take place in a campaign, which appear at first sight contradictory to the absolute theory of war. These halts are due to many causes, such as preparations, exhaustion, uncertainty, irresolution, friction, waiting for reinforcements, etc.
In this connection one must remember that war is "a chain of battles all strung together, one of which always brings on another." But they seldom follow each other immediately; there is usually a certain pause between. As soon as one battle is gained, strategy makes new combinations in accordance with the altered circumstances to win the next. Whilst these new combinations are being developed, or perhaps considered, there may be a greater or less suspension of the act, a longer or shorter halt in the forward movement. Then another spring forward. Clausewitz has a great many interesting things to say on this subject.[39]
"If there is a suspension of the act in war, that is to say, if neither party for the moment wills anything positive, there is _rest_, and for the moment equilibrium.... As soon as ever one of the parties proposes to himself a new positive object, and commences active steps towards it, even if it is only by preparations, and as soon as the enemy opposes this, there is _tension_ of the powers; this lasts until the decision takes place.... This decision, the foundation of which lies always in the battle-combinations which are made on each side, ... is followed by a movement in one or other direction."
"It may so happen that both parties, at one and the same time, not only feel themselves too weak to attack, but are so in reality."
"Wild as is the nature of war it still wears the claims of human weakness, and the contradiction we see here, that man seeks and creates dangers which he fears at the same time, will astonish no one."
"If we cast a glance at military history in general, there we find so much the opposite of an incessant advance towards the aim, that _standing still_ and _doing nothing_ is quite plainly the _normal condition_ of an army in the midst of war, _acting_ the _exception_. This must almost raise a doubt as to the correctness of our conception. But if military history has this effect by the great body of its events, so also the latest series of wars redeem the view. The war of the French Revolution shows only too plainly its reality, and only proves too plainly its necessity. In that war, and especially in the campaigns of Bonaparte, the conduct of war attained to that unlimited degree of energy which we have represented as the natural law of the element. This degree is therefore possible, and if it is possible then it is necessary."
REFLECTIONS
(1) "Hardly worth mentioning"! So that is how Clausewitz regards International Law, Clausewitz to whom in Germany "our most famous victors on the more modern battlefields owe their spiritual training," and on whom "everybody who to-day either makes or teaches modern war bases himself, even if he is not conscious of it." And we must regard nearly every foreign statesman as, consciously or unconsciously, a disciple of Clausewitz. It is, therefore, high time that we should cease to pin our faith on International Law, or think that it can in any way protect us, if we neglect strongly to protect ourselves. Power and expediency are the only rules that the practical politicians of foreign countries recognize, and the only question they ask themselves is, "Have we got sufficient power to do this," and if so, "Is it expedient to do it?"
(2) Treaties, too, what reliance can we place upon them for any length of time? None whatever. For treaties are only considered binding as long as the interests of _both_ contracting parties remain the same. Directly circumstances change, and they change constantly, the most solemn treaties are torn up, as Russia tore up the Treaty of Paris, or as Austria tore up the Treaty of Berlin. All history is full of torn-up treaties. And as it has been so it will be. The European waste-paper basket is the place to which all treaties eventually find their way, and a thing which can any day be thrown into a waste-paper basket is, indeed, a poor thing on which to hang our national safety. Only in ourselves can we trust. Therefore no treaties at present existing should be allowed in any way to alter or lessen our preparations to enable us to fight _alone_ when necessary.
(3) It cannot be too often repeated, or too much insisted on, that the success or failure of a State policy is dependent upon the amount of armed force behind it. For upon the amount of armed force behind a policy depends the greater or less amount of resistance, of friction, which that policy will meet with on the part of other nations. The prestige of a nation depends upon the general belief in its strength. The less its prestige, the more it will be checked and foiled by its rivals, till at last perhaps it is goaded into a war which would have been prevented if its prestige, or armed force, had been greater. On the other hand, the greater its prestige, its armed force, the more reasonable and inclined to a fair compromise are its rivals found. So that the greater the prestige, the armed force, of our nation is, the more likely is it that all our negotiations will be settled by peaceful compromise, and the longer we shall enjoy peace.
Therefore, under this consideration, those who would reduce our national forces are deeply mistaken, for such action would imperil our prestige, imperil our negotiations, imperil our peace, and perhaps lead eventually to a war that we might otherwise have avoided. Therefore no such deeply mistaken economy for us. A few hundred thousand pounds saved would be dear economy indeed if it led, as well it might, to the payment before many years of a War Indemnity of £800,000,000 or so. Better the evils we know than the far greater evils we know not of.
(4) Surprise in war is what we have to fear. There are two sorts of national surprise that we must consider. These are (A) the _surprise by actual hostilities_ taking place before the actual declaration of war, such as the Japanese surprise and practical destruction of the fighting force of the Russian fleet at Port Arthur; (B) the _surprise by superior preparation_, silently carried out till all is ready for a decisive blow, whilst we are not ready for equally efficient defence, and then a declaration of war before we have time to get properly ready, as the surprise in this sense of France by Germany in 1870.
(A) Every successful example is always copied, and usually on a larger scale. We may be quite certain that our rivals have taken to heart the lesson of Port Arthur. It is possible that our next war will open with a similar night attack on our fleet, either just before, or simultaneously with the declaration of war. If it is successful, or even partially successful, it may produce the most grave results, as in the Russo-Japanese War. It _may_ render possible a naval action with almost equal forces, in which our opponents _might_ be victorious. The invasion of this country on a gigantic scale by 300,000 men or more would then follow as a certainty. This is not a probability, but a possibility which requires to be kept in our view.
(B) _The surprise by superior preparation_, as I term it, for want of a better name, is a danger to which we are peculiarly liable. As Lord Salisbury said, "The British constitution is a bad fighting machine," and it is made an infinitely worse fighting machine by the lack of interest which our politicians appear to take in all that appertains to war. Hence they are always liable to oppose, as excessive, preparations which are in reality the minimum consistent with national safety. Consequently our preparations for war, controlled as they are by those who have no special knowledge of war, are always apt to be insufficient, as were those of France in 1870. In former days this did not perhaps so very much matter, although it resulted in the unnecessary loss of hundreds of thousands of British lives and hundreds of millions of British treasure. But still we were able, at this somewhat excessive price, to "muddle through," owing to the heroic efforts of our soldiers and sailors to make bricks without straw and retrieve the mistakes of our policy. For our opponents then conducted war in such a slow way as to give us time to repair _after_ the outbreak of war our lack of preparation _before_ it. But opposed to a modern nation-in-arms, guided by statesmen and led by generals brought up in the school of Napoleon, Clausewitz, and Moltke--all will be different. In such a war the national forces brought into play are so immense that it is only possible to do so efficaciously if everything has been most carefully prepared and organized beforehand. It is not _possible_ to improvise such organization of national force _after_ the war has begun, for there cannot be sufficient time. If our rival makes adequate preparation before the war to bring to bear in that war the _whole_ of its national force, material, moral, and physical, while we only prepare to bring to bear a _small portion_ thereof, then there will be no time afterwards for us to repair our negligence. The war will be conducted with the utmost energy, and the aim will be to utilize to the utmost the superiority obtained by superior preparation, so as to make the decision as rapid as possible before we have time to recover from the effects of our surprise. That is the danger we have to fear, and to keep ever in mind.