Air University Review, January-February 1971
Colonel Ralph L. Giddings, Jr., USA (Ret)
The solution lies in human hearts.
Marshal De Saxe
War, as Clausewitz once noted, is an act of force to compel the enemy to do our will. It includes two essential elements: the act of physical force against the enemy’s substance and the psychological campaign against the enemy’s will.
As early as 1732, in speaking of the mysterious causes of victory and defeat, Marshal de Saxe wrote:
. . . the solution lies in human hearts and one should search for it there. No one has written of this matter which is the most important, the most learned and the most profound, of the profession of war. And without a knowledge of the human heart, one is dependent upon the favor of fortune. . . .1
Today, while we have looked deep into the atom and have discovered things there that were not dreamed of by the prodigious Marshal, we can look no farther into the human heart now than he could a quarter of millennium ago. Yet he is profoundly right. The answer must be sought not in the heart of the bomb but in the heart of man—at the very source of the human will.
Western military strategists in general (and American strategists in particular) have concentrated on the act of force and have neglected the psychological seduction of the will. Clausewitz, Mahan, and Douhet discussed forms that the act of violence might assume, but only the proponents of “wars of national liberation” (Mao Tse-tung, Vo Nguyen Giap, and “Che” Guevara) have given serious attention to the ultimate object of military operations—the human will. Thus, while General William C. Westmoreland was occupied with “search and destroy” missions, Giap’s intentions have always been to outlast the Americans, not to annihilate them.
Americans seem to believe that the more violent the act of physical destruction, the more certain must be the disintegration of the will to resist. Yet a direct correlation between coercive force and will has never been demonstrated. To the contrary, a study of the causes and movements that have affected the course of history reveals that the will is capable of a power of its own, against which physical force often has been useless and sometimes counterproductive. Let us examine the role of the human will in strategic operations. What is “will”? How does it function? How is it best attacked and defended?
The will is a psychological and metaphysical concept unfamiliar to (and avoided by) both the “scientific-technological elite” and the “military-industrial complex.” To learn of the will we must turn to Aristotle, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Immanuel Kant, and Sigmund Freud; not to Alexander the Great, Sir Isaac Newton, Napoleon Bonaparte, or Enrico Fermi.
The will is the power of free choice. It is freedom of determination on the part of one who has the capability to impose his desire. To have freedom of choice is to have free will. To the extent that a nation cannot freely determine its own actions, its power and its sovereignty are limited. When a nation is no longer free to choose, it is powerless.
Since war is a contest of wills, the successful strategist must retain his
own freedom of choice while limiting the enemy’s choice. The real objective of
strategy is to devise courses of action that will keep our options open while
limiting those of the enemy. Sir Basil Liddell Hart’s strategy of the indirect
approach has as its basis an advance in which two or more hostile points are
threatened simultaneously, giving the attacker freedom of choice while
compelling the defender to cover both. “Take a line of operation,” he says, “which
offers alternative objectives.”2
In a contest of wills, psychological factors are decisive. Ideas, slogans, and propaganda can be of more importance than physical power or material resources. Since the real object is to impose will, not casualties, the destruction of the enemy’s will to resist is more vital than the destruction of his ability to resist. Unfortunately, both politically and strategically the Western democracies have fallen into the habit of thinking almost exclusively in material terms. If we are to prevail in the present struggle, we must again think in spiritual terms. We must develop (or revive) a powerful Western ideology—something that will appeal to the human heart. We must renew or rejuvenate that evangelistic enthusiasm through which medieval Christianity and eighteenth century Humanism once were able to captivate and motivate mankind.
Power is the ability to produce an intended result—the motive force that turns thought into action. It is the ability to impose one will on another, either through influence or coercion. It exists in many forms and embraces physical, mental, and spiritual resources and capabilities. Power may be latent or exerted. It needs to be distinguished from force, which implies coercion, and mere desire, which implies weakness. Attempts to treat one form of power in isolation from its other manifestations can, at best, yield only partial truths.
Despite the popular tendency to disparage “power politics” as immoral, power is the essence of political life. Any political activity is a struggle among conflicting interests on issues of mutual concern. Conflicts only arise between individuals or groups that have similar but incompatible objectives, and the resolution of these conflicts inevitably involves the exercise of power. Power—in the political context—means the hold of a man (or a group of men) over the minds and actions of other men. It is a phenomenon encountered whenever human beings live in contact with one another. Since all social contacts involve the clash of wills, national security clearly must be founded on the national will.
National governments are threatened by two dangers: revolution and defeat in war. Against either danger, defense requires the exercise of power. International tranquility arises from relations with other nations and is grounded in national power. Security against internal subversion depends on power just as much as does security against foreign aggression. “Nonviolent protest” is clearly an attempt to bring power to bear on an issue of public concern. What could better exemplify this form of power than Mahatma Gandhi’s nonviolent campaign to terminate British control of India?
As Professor Hans Morgenthau has said:
Power may comprise anything that establishes and maintains the control of man over man. Thus power covers all social relationships which serve that end, from physical violence to the most subtile psychological ties by which one mind controls another. Power covers the domination of man by man, both when it is disciplined by moral ends and controlled by constitutional safeguards, as in Western democracies, and when it is that untamed and barbaric force which finds its laws in nothing but its own strength and its sole justification in its aggrandizement.3
Power can be applied in the pursuit of national objectives, with and without violence. When power is applied without violence, nations are said to be at peace, and the intercourse among them is called “diplomatic.” When power is applied violently, nations are said to be at war, and the intercourse among them is called “strategic.” This distinction, while sometimes useful, suggests that military power has no role in diplomacy and that persuasive power has no efficacy in strategy. We must not fall into this error.
In the first place, the study of one form of power in isolation can lead to false results. Forms of power are interdependent and sometimes indistinguishable. For example, the line between force and persuasion can be a subtle one. Power, like energy, is constantly changing; thus economic power can be transformed into military power, while military power can become persuasive power.
In the second place, peace and war are a continuum, not separate domains. If the transition from peace to war does not change the object of the will, war is truly a continuation of political intercourse, and to limit our understanding of diplomatic acts to those conducted during peace and strategic acts to those conducted in war is dangerous.
Once we accept this relationship between power and politics and recognize that overt military force is not the only way in which one will can be imposed on another, we are ready to come to grips with total strategy.
Strategy involves the generation and application of power (but not necessarily of force) in conflict situations. Strategy can and should be applied in all forms of conflict—athletic, business, and social as well as military. On the international stage, strategy is the systematic development and employment of national power, including but not limited to military power, to secure the goals established by national policy. Further, these goals must be secured despite the opposition of antagonists in the international environment. Strategy is an art rather than a science because the human will, not physical strength, will predominate.
Total strategy is the generation and application of all forms of power useful in the pursuit of our national objectives. It is “total” in the sense of being complete, not in the sense of being unconditional or unlimited. Total strategy should be applied in cold and in limited wars. In fact, it is more important in such conflicts than it is in all-out war, where naked force alone predominates. Total strategy implies total power, not total force or unlimited objectives. It may be necessary to limit force in order to maximize power. Total strategy requires the orchestration of all forms of power, to ensure their simultaneous and harmonious use. It must address an entire, constantly changing spectrum of conflict and must advance our national will over other wills incompatible with liberty and justice.
A sound strategic plan must consider the power of the enemy to frustrate it. It is the power of the other side to upset our plans that requires the strategist to devise courses of action that keep many options open to us while foreclosing options available to the enemy.
If war is regarded as a legal form, it is true that war either has or has not been declared. Events since 1945 have made it clear that this simple dichotomy does not provide an accurate model of the real world. In the first place, wars are fought today without formal declaration. Furthermore, conflict may take place using any or all the forms of power; the intensity with which it is applied will vary; and both its form and intensity will change with time.
Exercise of total power must use every available and appropriate form. Military and economic power and psychological persuasion must all be exploited, during peace as well as during war. Total strategy is not confined to military action. The Cuban crisis of October 1962, for example, was a contest of wills between the United States and the Soviet Union. It was “won” by the United States without recourse to military force.
Americans, unfortunately, have a peculiar view of the world. They regard conflict as an interlude in the normal course of human affairs rather than as part of its mainstream. The idea of continuous international conflict is repugnant to them; they prefer to think of war as a means for a righteous and indignant America to punish a naughty wrongdoer in the international family—something like spanking an unruly child. Thus, they view war as the failure of policy, not as its continuation.
Any means whereby one group can impose its will on another can make a useful contribution to total strategy. Americans have demonstrated considerable skill in the exercise of military and economic power, but they feel uncomfortable with psychological persuasion.
Persuasion is the manipulation of the human will through appeal to reason, prejudice, or interest. Skillfully used, it can affect human behavior, alter human attitudes, and modify human goals. In the struggle for the mind of man, it is a potent weapon. Strategic persuasion includes, but is not limited to, psychological warfare.
Strategic (as opposed to tactical) persuasion is not, as a rule, conducted in face-to-face encounters. Rather the vehicles of mass communication are used: newspapers, radio, TV, motion pictures, books, and the graphic and performing arts. A campaign of persuasion must be planned as carefully as any other strategic undertaking. The strategist employing it must study his opponent; he must learn of his history, culture, religion, politics, and mores; he must know what will appeal to him and what may repel him. He must select the target group and the vehicles to be used as carefully as he would choose an objective and an avenue of approach on the battlefield.
When persuasion is used thus—whether true or false, ethical or repugnant, good or evil, open or covert—it is called “propaganda.” The term has a bad connotation to Americans, chargeable in part to Adolf Hitler. Brainwashing and political indoctrination are considered totalitarian rather than democratic tactics. Propaganda, however, is the primary means of strategic persuasion. It is odd that a nation that sees nothing improper in Madison Avenue techniques dedicated to persuading us that “Sugar Corn Toasties are the best breakfast food” should find these same methods unacceptable to persuade the rest of the world that American democracy is the best government.
Of course, the successful propagandist dares not be cynical. False propaganda can produce at best a temporary advantage and at worst a humiliating debacle. What is said must be believable to the target group. Their own senses and reason must tell them that the propaganda is (or at least could be) true. One cannot convince a well-fed man that he is hungry. One may, however, convince a hypochondriac that he is dying. Blatantly false propaganda can also have the unpleasant side effect of adverse world opinion. The propagandist must never forget that the whole world is listening.
World opinion has been inordinately praised as a panacea for the international woes that bedevil us and intemperately condemned as a meaningless fiction. Both these views are wrong. Public opinion cannot do everything, but this does not mean that it cannot do anything. The Declaration of Independence contains a reminder that we owe “a decent respect to the opinion of mankind.” And if the Communists are serious about their aspiration to world domination, they dare not be insensitive to their image among the nations of the world either.
Of course, no significant political decision should be based on a single factor. Further, the Soviet and Chinese leaders unquestionably assign to the various factors weights different from those assigned by the American leaders. Democracies, by their very nature, are more responsive to public opinion than are authoritarian governments. But history does not support the view that the Russians ignore or are oblivious to world opinion.
The Kremlin realized that intervention in Czechoslovakia would be unpopular and that this use of military force would hurt international Communism. In August 1968, after much indecision, the Russians decided that a subservient Czech government was more important than their international image. There can be no doubt, however, that world opinion was carefully considered.
The ultimate victor in the present world conflict may well be the side that wins the minds of men. The solution lies in human hearts, and we must search for it there. We must recognize strategic persuasion as a new instrument of power to be used in the defense of our national interest alongside the traditional instruments of diplomacy and war.
Like anyone else who attempts difficult tasks with limited resources, the strategic planner must match the means available with the ends sought. Means may be vast, but they are still limited. Ends, unfortunately, tend to become unconditional.
National power is the product of many factors, some tangible, such as geography, population, and economic resources; some intangible, such as leadership, national organization and unity, and ideology. Depending on the political objective sought, the efficacy of different forms of power will vary. The threat to use nuclear weapons, for example, was not enough to secure the release of the USS Pueblo from North Korea. Neither could world opinion prevent the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia.
In matching the means to the end, the strategist must: First, undertake only those things that realistically can be accomplished with the means available. “Adjust your end to your means.”4 Second, select the form or forms of power most appropriate to that end. The way that something is done can have a more lasting effect than the end accomplished. Third, undertake nothing that, even if achieved, would not be worth the cost.
The successful strategist must always achieve his will at the lowest possible cost. The “method of least work” is a sound strategic principle as well as a useful engineering theorem. Sometimes the objective may involve forcing the enemy to select an option of our choosing—a “win” strategy. Again it may be sufficient to avoid an option of the enemy’s choosing—a “not lose” strategy. Do not demand a “win” strategy when the political objective sought would be served as well by a “not lose” strategy.
The American Civil War provides an excellent example of these two strategic forms. All that the South had to do was to avoid defeat (not lose) to establish itself as a new nation; the North, on the other hand, had to defeat the Confederacy (win) to preserve the Union. The deep impression that the Civil War made on the American conscious (and subconscious) has left an unfortunate tradition in American strategic thinking. The North’s victory of “unconditional surrender,” which was required by the particular circumstances of that war, has become the norm in American strategic thinking.
In selecting a strategic plan and choosing the form of power to be employed, we must guard against miscalculation and failure. A plan that will minimize regret is more desirable than one that will maximize gain. As the consequences of strategic miscalculation become more and more terrible, we are nearing a point where we must reject any plan that, while its probability of failure is slight, could have a catastrophic result.
In seeking to overcome the will, the strategist must remember that, although the will is nonmaterial, it is very real. It being real, he can ignore it only at considerable peril; but, it being nonmaterial, he must attack it indirectly.
The most complete victory over an opposing will is to convince it of the rightness of our will; the least satisfactory victory is to force unwilling submission. Willing conversion to our will is a complete and permanent victory; it can turn an old enemy into a new ally. Unwilling submission is limited and usually temporary: the opposing will remains unchanged, to re-emerge at the first opportunity.
Unwilling submission, which is usually accompanied by a feeling of injustice, often causes one war to breed the next. The German seizure of Alsace-Lorraine in 1871 made its recovery the first priority in French foreign policy from 1871 to 1919. The “dictated peace” of the 1919 Versailles Treaty was negated by Germany at the first opportunity.
Once it is recognized that the enemy’s will, rather than his body, is the true object of strategic maneuver, the question arises, “How does one attack the will?” Clearly, it involves the control of one will by another. Thus the answer must involve power, but how? What form of power will be effective in establishing the ascendancy of one will over another? How should it be applied to be most effective? These are the practical questions that must be faced by the strategic planner. In broad outline, the will can be attacked by
—employing (or threatening to employ) physical violence so as to imperil the freedom (or even the existence) of the body. This is the classic Western use of military or police power. It is an approach to the will through fear.
—offering the inducement of rewards and punishments so as to make the attainment of the original purpose of the other will seem unprofitable. This, in essence, is the use of economic power. It is an approach to the will through interest.
—exerting influence over opinion through persuasion so as to make the original purpose of the other will seem undesirable. This is the use of propaganda. It is an appeal to the will through belief.
Regardless of the method employed, the ultimate object is the same: the control of people. The usual military approach involves establishing and maintaining control over the land, or the sea, or the air, depending on whether you talk to a soldier, a sailor, or an airman. As the U.S. Army Field Service Regulation (FM 100-5) said in a mid-1950 version, “The ultimate object of all military operations is the destruction of the enemy’s armed forces and his will to fight.” Unfortunately the rest of this regulation was devoted to the destruction of the enemy’s armed forces, the unstated syllogism seeming to be:
Major premise: The destruction of a nation’s armed forces will destroy its will to fight.
Minor premise: This regulation tells how to destroy its armed forces.
Conclusion: Therefore, if we follow this regulation, we will destroy the enemy’s will to fight.
The weakness in this argument lies in the unstated major premise. No strategy can be total if it is based on reasoning of this sort.
But there is one more way, perhaps an even more frightening way, to attack the freedom of the will. If the ultimate purpose of total strategy is to destroy the will to resist, hallucinogenic drugs (LSD, marijuana, peyote, etc.) may provide the primary weapon. Military power, economic power, and persuasive power, after all, attack the will only obliquely; “pot” assaults it directly. What is more lethargic than a satisfied drug addict?
After the Woodstock Rock Music Festival of August 1969, one of the participants was moved to write in Life magazine:
. . . as one who has believed that the justification for using drugs lay somewhere in the zone of psychic freedom, I was disturbed by the bovine passivity they [the drugs] induced in this mass of free minds. For almost everyone present, the freedom to get stoned together was more than freedom enough.5
The festival, he observed, took on the aspect of a concentration camp stocked with free drugs and staffed by charming guards.
The “military mind” is frequently accused of lacking imagination. It may be just as well. Strategic nuclear missiles have proved to be singularly ineffective weapons when it comes to imposing one will on another. Potential new weapons, however, may possess a power of undreamed-of efficiency.
In addition to the strategic use of drugs, developments in genetics and biology suggest that real breakthroughs in the art of controlling men may lie in these areas. Such power in the hands of unscrupulous men is frightening. The strategic use of hallucinogens, truth serum, and induced genetic mutations could make a tyrant the master of the world. Indeed the world of 1984 may be closer than we think.
In achieving the ascendancy of the will, military power is clearly limited. The power of a nation depends not only on its population, its wealth, its technical capacity, and its armed forces but also on its beliefs and its creeds. Belief cannot be spread by fire and sword, and creeds cannot be defended by atomic bombs. Military power can be invincible in battle and yet unable to subdue a dedicated foe.
Nowhere is this limitation more apparent today than in the Arab-Israeli war. The Arabs have been decisively defeated in 1948, in 1956, and again in 1967. And yet, paradoxically, each Israeli victory has only strengthened the Arab will. Each new blow seems to stimulate the Arab extremists and boost the anti-Zion feelings of the Arab masses. Military success seems to have taken the Israelis farther from their goal.
When one recognizes the impossibility of Israel’s achieving a military solution despite its overwhelming military superiority, it is a sobering thought to substitute the United States for Israel and the Viet Cong/North Vietnamese for the Arabs, and then to ask: Can America do any better? Will Americans support an indecisive war for over twenty years?
Some feel that military power is worthless. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Total strategy is no more possible without military power than it is without persuasive power or economic power. Within its proper limits, military power can be used effectively in either a passive role or an active role. Deterrence is the classic use of military power in a passive role. This use of military power acts both to restrain potential enemies and encourage and support allies. The Cuban missile crisis of 1962 is a classic example of the passive use of military power in conjunction with other manifestations of national power. This was total strategy.
Used in the active role, military force is capable of implementing a “not lose” strategy to thwart the enemy’s attempts to win through military action. Military power alone can achieve a complete success when there is a vast disparity between the two antagonists. India’s take-over of Goa in 1962 is an example.
Finally a military success can gain time to permit a more permanent solution to be worked out. To reach the twenty-first century, we must first survive the 1970s, and military power can buy time for the other forms of power to work towards a better world. Unfortunately, history provides few examples of time used wisely when bought at such a high price. Indeed, the real solution does lie in human hearts, but no one seems interested.
Fairfax, Virginia
Note
1. Marshal Maurice de Saxe, Reveries on the Art of War, trans. Brigadier General Thomas R. Phillips (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: Military Service Publishing Company, 1944), p. 18.
2. B. H. Liddell Hart, Strategy (New York: Praeger, Paperback PPS-6, 1954), p. 348.
3. Hans J. Morgenthau, Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace, 3d ed. (New York: Alfred A. Knopl, 1960), p. 9.
4. Liddell Hart, p. 348.
5. Barry Farrell, “Second Reading: Bad Vibrations from Woodstock,” Life, Vol. 67, No. 10 (September 5, 1969), p. 4.
Colonel Ralph L. Giddings, Jr., USA (Ret), (M.A., George Washington University) preceding his retirement in 1970 was Army Member of the Weapons Systems Evaluation Group. He served during World War II with the 7th Infantry Division, Pacific Theater, and subsequently in the staff (Army General Staff and NORAD), advisory (Saudi Arabia), and artillery command assignments. Colonel Giddings is a frequent contributor to military journals.
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this
document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression,
academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official
position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air
Force or the Air University.
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