Document created: 24 March 04
Air University Review,
September-October 1972
Professor Michael Howard states in the Foreword to this biography of the great military thinker, critic, reformer, soldier, and writer Carl von Clausewitz, “It is usually said of Clausewitz, as of many other sages, that he is much quoted and little read. He has also been much abused and misused even by the few who have read him.”* In truth, almost with the authority of “Simon” in the children’s game “Simon Says,” the name Clausewitz is often tossed into discussions of military affairs to support or destroy one viewpoint or another. Much of the time, as Professor Howard points out, Clausewitz’s ideas have been misunderstood and hence misappropriated.
* Roger Parkinson, Clausewitz: a Biography (New York: Stein and Day, 1971, $10.00), 352 pages.
This charge has quite properly been leveled at authorities who have read extensively in Clausewitz’s magnum opus On War, as well as those who have read little or none of it. In truth, since very few can claim the distinction of having read the entire piece, On War is probably the most partially read but heavily quoted study in the field of military affairs.
There are significant reasons why so many students of military affairs have read so little of Clausewitz’s great work. For one thing, its size is discouraging; so is the belief that not all of what he wrote has contemporary meaning. But equally impeding an adequate digestion of the work are the deep implications of the thoughts and ideas contained in its opening sections. The reader is very likely to be overwhelmed and subsequently have difficulty in getting through these sections and proceeding with the task at hand. Perhaps this is a good thing, in a way. Clausewitz’s writings should not be read once and then put aside with a sense of finality; they are too potent.
While the reasons so many are only partially familiar with the writings of Clausewitz go a long way toward explaining the inadequate grasp of his ideas, they are not the whole story. Another part of the problem has been the almost total lack of knowledge among English-speaking people of the man himself and his times. This “unknown region” is what Roger Parkinson has attempted to chart for us. Overall, he has done an impressive job.
Parkinson is a graduate of King’s College, London, where he studied under Professor Howard. He has written two other books dealing with the origins of the two World Wars and had fairly wide experience as a war correspondent from Africa to Asia. In this effort, Parkinson set as his primary goal to describe Clausewitz’s “experiences, opinions and character, in such a way that the eventual appearance and content of On War may perhaps be better explained and understood.” In so doing, he has given a good general coverage of Clausewitz’s writings and detailed information on his military career and personal life.
Parkinson aimed this book at a wide audience, for he hoped to reach even those unacquainted with Clausewitz’s On War. It is perhaps for this reason that he does not present a detailed and interpretive discussion of Clausewitz’s treatise itself. This is not to say that Parkinson has ignored On War in this biography. On the contrary, he has devoted a chapter to the topic—though it is only nine pages long—in which he outlines Clausewitz’s basic intent for the entire work, his desire to refine it further, and some of the main points. Nevertheless, the biography does not provide the why; that is, a clear and detailed analysis of On War’s “pronouncements” derived from a close correlation with the author’s personality, experiences, and intellectual development. This shortcoming, however, does not cancel our debt to Parkinson for a solid biography.
Carl Von Clausewitz began his military career in the Prussian army at the age of twelve as an officer cadet. He received his first taste of combat shortly thereafter as the flag bearer for his regiment in the limited engagements against the French in 1793. The next year he went on extended leave, as the war faded, and began a long period of study to make up for what he termed “a mediocre education.” When the war with the French ended in 1795, the fifteen-year-old second lieutenant realized that peace had ended opportunities for rapid promotion resulting only from talents displayed in the field. Therefore, he pursued his education even more fervently and enrolled in a local school in the small garrison town in which he was stationed. In 1801 he entered the Institution for the Young Officers in Berlin to broaden his knowledge of science, tactics, and strategy. It was there he met his greatest friend and mentor, Gerhard von Scharnhorst, an instructor on the faculty.
By the time of the ill-conceived and badly timed Prussian declaration of war on France in 1806, Clausewitz had finished most of his formal preparation for a military career and was serving as an aide to one of the princely relations of the King. Along with the rest, he marched off to war against Napoleon. But the Prussians, encumbered by the outdated methods and style of warfare handed down from Frederick the Great, were no match for the French military genius, who headed a newer kind of army imbued with flexibility, national spirit, and experience. The defeats at Jena and Auerstädt were as shocking to Prussian institutions and self-image as they were decisive on the battlefield.
From 1808 to 1812, Clausewitz labored hard with a small group of officers in attempting to rebuild, reform, and modernize the shattered army—a task that could not be fully performed without certain parallel changes in Prussian institutions, social structure, and ways of thinking. The job was not an easy one, as French watchfulness, the limited resources of Prussia, and considerable opposition from the Prussian ruling class hindered practically all but the most obvious and necessary changes. Finally, frustrated in his efforts, smarting under “French arrogance,” and disgusted with royal inertia to throw off Napoleon’s yoke, Clausewitz resigned in 1812. On the eve of Napoleon’s Russian invasion, he entered the service of the Czar—Prussia’s enemy, by treaty with France.
Until the final victory over Napoleon in 1815, Clausewitz served with the Russian army as a staff officer. He spoke almost no Russian, but most of his service was in an attached German legion. The major engagements from Moscow to Paris and Waterloo in which Clausewitz participated are related vividly and realistically by Roger Parkinson. Although the author’s maps of these sweeping campaigns are sometimes inadequate, he compensates by his lively account of the fascination and brutality of warfare of the time.
At the end of the war, Clausewitz was permitted to return to Prussian service. His having switched to the “enemy” in 1812 and his opposition to the conservative desires of the ruling elements of Prussian society, however, were never fully forgiven. Relatively powerless to halt it, he witnessed the postwar undoing of many of the reforms instituted during the crisis period. Although he finally achieved the rank of major general, he was kept out of the mainstream of Prussian military development (or stagnation) until his death in 1831. He died from cholera at the age of 51, after serving as chief of staff of a Prussian force organized to guard against popular uprisings in that portion of Poland held by Prussia.
Parkinson recognized that the process which worked to make Clausewitz such an interesting and significant figure in the study of strategy, politics, and military affairs was dependent on other factors than those presented in a sketch of his military career. These factors included his own personality and the times in which he lived. Hence, to offer the reader a firmer grasp of the man, Parkinson delved deep into these vital areas.
Even as a young man, Carl von Clausewitz was not of the same mold as the majority of his contemporaries in the Prussian officer corps. Instead of the swashbuckling arrogance so prevalent in his day, he possessed a rather shy and introspective nature. In a social structure based heavily on noble status, tradition, wealth, and “name,” the Clausewitz family was poor and held only a tenuous claim in the ranks of Prussian nobility. Furthermore, the “service to the state” rendered by his ancestors had primarily been in scholarly pursuits, not in military service. To be sure, Carl’s father had served under Frederick the Great. Because of a war wound, however, he rose no higher than the rank of lieutenant and retired early, to become a petty tax collector. Two of Carl’s three brothers were officers when he entered military service (the third was a scholar) but only in the company grades—hardly a firm claim to a tradition of service. Therefore, by background, he was something of an outsider in the officer corps.
Besides his family heritage, Clausewitz’s drive to improve himself intellectually—in a military atmosphere of drill, discipline, glory, and honor—tended to set him apart. His desires for glory and honor were certainly no less than those of his contemporaries, but his penchant for study—hardly a soldierly characteristic at the time—exposed him to the great writers and thinkers of the day, of both the Schools of Reason and Romance. This exposure enabled him to probe logically the deeper reasons for Napoleon’s stunning victories and look critically at the Prussian social, governmental, and military systems that hindered Prussia’s efforts to compete favorably with the French. In short, it helped prepare him for the role of a reformer.
At the same time, this intellectual exposure created within him the passionate desire to change and restore his nation, a desire so strong he could not abide Prussia’s royal inertia in casting off French control. This was why he resigned to fight with the Russians against Napoleon and why he eagerly returned to his nation’s service after Prussia joined in the crusade against the Corsican “anti-Christ.”
Clausewitz’s shy, retiring personality did not allow him to gain a large circle of friends. To those with whom he did become intimate, however, he was fiercely loyal, particularly to Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. Whereas Clausewitz’s valuable talents for study and writing eminently suited him for staff duty, this kind of work and his personality tended to reveal these gifts only to close associates. Hence, his reliance on friends was considerable, yet personal recognition during his lifetime was fairly limited. This lack of recognition gave him intense pain and disappointment throughout his long career.
Although Clausewitz began writing his great work On War after the Napoleonic era had ended, he continued to revise various sections almost until the time of his death. Indeed, it is generally believed that he regarded only the opening sections as satisfactory; yet, as Parkinson points out, there is evidence that Clausewitz intended to tighten even these segments. Be that as it may, the shortcomings from the perfection that Clausewitz hoped to achieve should not deter the serious student, nor does it detract from the value of the work. From the foregoing summary of Parkinson’s biography, it should be apparent that Clausewitz’s discussion of war reflected a number of factors that influenced him. One which Parkinson neglected, however, was the scholarly style of the day which sought to establish a clear definition of a topic in an abstract or “perfect” state against which to discuss the “real life” model. In this manner, Clausewitz organized and presented his experiences, observations, and analyses concerning the great scope of modern warfare. The result, as in the opening portions of On War, was an initial discussion of war in its purest form—unbounded, unlimited, senseless, and savage.
Then followed a description of war in the “real world”—bounded by restrictions, limited by political intent, and, hopefully, rational in its violence.
Without an understanding of the man and his times, it is easy to slip into the gross misinterpretation that the “perfect” state of war to which Clausewitz alluded was the “ideal” that rational men should strive for, rather than merely a backdrop to facilitate his discussion of the topic. This error was common in the past and is no less common today.
The “real war” described by Clausewitz was a new kind of war, modern and devastating. It was a style gradually forming in the minds of strategists, organizers, and planners well before Napoleon, but with the social energies unleashed by the French Revolution and the leadership and skill of Napoleon, it sprang forth decisively on the unreformed and unready. The new version of war drew sustenance from the people and was limited by, among other factors, their enthusiasm for and dedication to the task at hand. It was war waged by the “nation at arms.”
This enthusiasm and dedication of the people permitted the implementation of new tactics, strategies, and flexibilities for the battlefield. Clausewitz recognized these new modes and emphasized them by contrasting them with the outdated styles employed in earlier conflicts. But the key to the new process was the new role of the people. Yet, whereas the changes that fostered the implementation of the new form of warfare had come in France rather naturally as a result of the Revolution, which destroyed so many institutions of the past, the reverse was true in Prussia. There, under the leadership of royally appointed committees of reform, men like Scharnhorst and Clausewitz worked from a model or conception of what they believed their military forces had to become to be successful. Their efforts thus went past the obvious need for military reforms and updating. They labored to change the obstructing political, social, and governmental institutions that prevented them from effectively tapping the energies of the Prussian people in the achievement of their goal. The results, however, were intended to be the same as the French had accomplished.
It was entirely reasonable that, while studying popular involvement in conflicts between nations (not just between royal houses), Clausewitz should have examined man’s “newest” form of struggle, guerrilla warfare. An example of this kind of war had occurred in the Spanish resistance to Napoleon, and Clausewitz was well aware of the potential this mode of activity afforded a defeated and occupied Prussia to harass the French. Roger Parkinson points out that in 1810, while an instructor in what later became the Prussian War Academy, Clausewitz lectured on the topic, which to most of his students must have appeared an outlandish proposition. Nevertheless, he had organized his thoughts on the use of guerrillas to act as insurgents for a “have not” nation (as Prussia was in the period after the defeats of 1806) or as auxiliaries to regular forces in more traditional struggles. He thus clearly anticipated the concepts of modern “inventors” such as Mao or “Che” Guevara.
In sum, as Roger Parkinson has related, Carl von Clausewitz lived in a period of great change. As a serious student of the art of war, he tried critically and logically to evaluate the causes, meaning, and impact of these changes on his chosen profession. Fortunately for later generations, he was not content just to be a thinker; he recorded his thoughts, ideas, and concepts, exposing their weaknesses or strengths to his own intellect for further refinement. In their final form, On War, he achieved a grasp of the subject of warfare far deeper and more complete than any of his contemporaries and all but a few of his successors.
Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama
Major Edward Vallentiny (USMA; M.A., University of California, Davis), until his recent assignment as Assistant Professor of Aerospace Studies, University of Wyoming, was an Associate Editor, Air University Review. Following pilot training, he served in SAC on a tanker crew, then attended UCD under AFIT. While serving in Southeast Asia with Project CHECO, 7AF, he studied and wrote on the conflict, and he continued to do so during a tour with Project Corona Harvest at Air University.
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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