Military Intelligence(?)

Military Intelligence(?)

Among students and aficionados of history, military historians and military officers are closely allied in their  interest in "applied history."  They seek "lessons" to be learned from faulty decisions and downright blunders that doomed battles and campaigns and entire wars.  Probably the most obvious "lesson" of military history from the past two centuries is: Do NOT invade Russia for any reason, whatsoever (learned by Napoleon in 1812 and re-learned by Hitler - to the benefit of the rest of the world - in 1941).  Fans of "Princess Bride" will also insist upon Southeast Asia as another region to avoid, at least in terms of land warfare.  If unfashionable among "real" historians, military history and its students are concerned at some level with applying (or at least comparing) the strategy and tactics of prior wars to the present, for providing "military intelligence" - whether of the academic or immediate-use variety.  [*Requisite caveat: military history as practiced by academics has thankfully progressed beyond an obsession with guns-and-generals*]    In other words, military intelligence - for armies at war or nations in time of peace preparing for a hypothetical future conflict - is based on scholarship, not simply espionage or scouting reports.  Of greater challenge to military historians seeking approval from their fellow doctorate-holders is the trite phrase: "Military intelligence?  What is that?"

(Carl von Clausewitz - by Karl Wilhelm Wach)

It does not help my case that the monarchs, aristocrats, and generals who commanded nations at war and armies in battle traditionally brought little in the way of intellectual thought or scholarly learning with them on campaign, at least prior to 1789.  Anti-intellectualism and aristocratic leadership rode side-by-side.  As historian Gordon A. Craig noted, Prussia's Frederick William I set the (low) educational tone for early modern European armies.  "A general was not regarded as uneducated, even though he could barely write his own name.  Whoever could do more was styled a pedant, inksplasher and scribbler."  Fortunately, ambitious officer cadets like Napoleon Bonaparte embraced the "middle class" educational principles of engineering and artillery - so looked down upon by aristocratic future cavalrymen - in their search of history for lessons that could be applied to decisive victory on the battlefield.  The United States, chary of militarism and a large standing army from its English roots (and the negative heritage of Parliamentary rule via military force after the English Civil War), nevertheless established fine military academies - with emphasis on engineering education - at the national (West Point, 1802) and state (Virginia Military Institute, 1839) levels in the first half of the nineteenth century.  Highly-motivated (read: intellectually engaged) cadets at these institutions looked back to Napoleon's campaigns as they dreamed of future battlefield commands.  The Napoleonic wars were studied as applied - and applicable - history.

("Clausewitz" at "War on Terror" briefing)

Although his works were not readily available in English translation to the professional officers of the Mexican-American and generals of the American Civil Wars, Carl von Clausewitz's Vom Kriege/On War - read assiduously by military historians and officers-in-training from the twentieth century onward - provides what I consider the single most important thesis about the ties between historical scholarship and military leadership.  Namely, politics is inseparable from warfare when conducted by democratic societies.  In other words, in such societies - such as the United States - warfare is deemed "too important to be left to the generals" operating without civilian oversight, particularly long wars involving millions of soldiers and billions of dollars of expenses.  Generals must justify their strategy - and sometimes, their tactics - to democratically-elected politicians (who in turn must answer to the voters) to ensure that the will of the people is consulted and secured rather than assumed.  Presidents Abraham Lincoln, Woodrow Wilson, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt grasped this, as did generals like William Tecumseh Sherman and Douglas MacArthur.  Generals George B. McClellan and (most recently) Stanley A. McChrystal should have realized this.  Don't buy it?  Take a look at Thomas Ricks' new book about American military leadership since the Second World War (The Generals).  Yet "[l]ong wars are antithetical to democracy," notes West Point graduate, Vietnam veteran, and military historian Andrew Bacevich.  "Protracted conflict introduces toxins that inexorably corrode the values of popular government."  So the lessons of America's twentieth- and early twenty-first-century conflicts can be applied here: politicians and generals alike must be wary of engaging in wars with open-ended boundaries.  Any future military leaders, military historians, or history majors: bear witness to the importance of this form of "military intelligence."

Parting Shot

Tomorrow: Honor (Think 47 Ronin - spoiler alert)

Your obedient servant,

The History Major