CHAPTER X

THE EXECUTION OF STRATEGY

Now, as Clausewitz teaches it, the theory of war is easy enough to

understand. There is no reason--one might almost say no excuse--why

every one, soldier or statesman, should not know it fairly well. The

great leading principles of strategy are few and simple. There is no

reason why every one, soldier and statesman, should not understand

and know these few simple principles thoroughly, and have them at his

finger ends ready to apply them to the consideration of any military

question, past, present, or future. So far all is easy. But when it

is a question of carrying out in actual war this easy theory, these

simple strategical principles, then it is QUITE a different matter,

then it is a matter of the very greatest difficulty. This is a

difference which the mind always finds very hard to grasp, as witness

the denunciations with which any failure in execution by a general, no

matter how great the real difficulties with which he had to contend,

is nearly always greeted. Observers rarely make allowances for these

difficulties, very largely probably because they do not understand

them. The present chapter is devoted to these difficulties of execution

in war.

THE GENIUS FOR WAR

In Clausewitz's great chapter on "the genius for war"[60] he sets forth

the difficulties which confront a general, the character and genius,

the driving and animating force, required to overcome the friction of

war. It is impossible to abstract it adequately; I can only advise all

to read it for themselves. But I will endeavour to give an idea of it.

After discussing the various sorts of courage required by a general,

physical before danger and moral before responsibility, the strength

of body and mind, the personal pride, the patriotism, the enthusiasm,

etc., he comes to the unexpected.

"_War_," he says, "_is the province of uncertainty. Three-fourths of

those things upon which action in war must be calculated are hidden

more or less in the clouds of great uncertainty._ Here, then, above

all other, a fine and penetrating mind is called for, to grope out the

truth by the tact of its judgment." Mark this point, that three-fourths

of the things that we as critics AFTER the event know, when all

information of the situation has been collected and published, were

unknown to the general who had to decide, or only dimly guessed at from

a number of contradictory reports.

"From this uncertainty of all intelligence and suppositions, _this

continual interposition of chance_." "Now, if he is to get safely

through _this perpetual conflict with the unexpected_, two qualities

are indispensable; in the first place _an understanding which, even

in the midst of this intense obscurity, is not without some traces

of inner light_, which _lead to the truth_, and then _the courage to

follow this faint light_. The first is expressed by the French phrase

_coup d'oeil_; the second is resolution."

"Resolution is an _act of courage in face of responsibility_." "The

forerunner of resolution is an act of the mind making plain the

necessity of venturing and thus influencing the will. This quite

peculiar direction of the mind, which conquers every other fear in man

by the fear of wavering or doubting, is what makes up resolution in

strong minds."

The vital importance of firmness and resolution, so strongly urged

by Clausewitz, will be apparent to all if we reflect how even the

strongest characters have been ruined by a temporary fit of vacillation

in war. Compare, for instance, York _v._ Wartenburg's masterly

exposition of Napoleon's ruinous, suicidal vacillation in 1813 at

Dresden.

Also there is required "_the power of listening to reason in the midst

of the most intense excitement_, in the storm of the most violent

passions."

"But to keep to the result of by-gone reflections in opposition to the

stream of opinions and phenomena which the present brings with it, is

just THE difficulty." "Here nothing else can help us but an imperative

maxim which, independent of reflection, at once controls it: that maxim

is, _in all doubtful cases to adhere to the first opinion and not to

give it up till a clear conviction forces us to do so_."

"But as soon as difficulties arise, and that must always happen

when great results are at stake, then the machine, the army itself,

begins to offer a sort of passive resistance, and to overcome this

the commander must have great force of will." Driving power, such as

Napoleon's. And also "the heart-rending sight of the bloody sacrifice,

which the commander has to contend with in himself."

"These are the weights which the courage and intelligent faculties of

the commander have to contend with and OVERCOME, if he is to make his

name illustrious." If he is to prevent the downfall of his country.

REFLECTIONS

(1) In connection with these difficulties I would like to put forward a

suggestion as to criticism of a general's action in war, which though

not exactly Clausewitz's, is a corollary from Clausewitz. It is this.

In reading a war with the clearness and after-knowledge of history

nearly all defeats are easily seen to be due to the non-observance of

one or other of the few leading principles of strategy referred to in

the previous chapter. But we must assume that the defeated general was

_familiar_ with that principle, and that his _will_ was to carry it

out. What, then, were the difficulties, the friction, which, on any

particular day or days, overcame his will and made him sacrifice the

principle? This is where most critics fail us. Here seems the matter

to search for. And could a stronger resolution have enabled him to

overcome those difficulties, that friction? And if so, how and by what

means? But we must first discover the difficulties and uncertainties

of the particular day when his will gave way. Take the Manchurian

campaign as an instance. If we could only have a military history of

the campaign of 1870 or that of Manchuria, written in the form of a

series of "appreciations of the situation," so that we know nothing but

what the general knew at the time as we read, and if the true state of

affairs could be withheld from us till the end, this, I think, would

be very instructive and helpful. It would be a more difficult way of

writing a military history, but I think that the extra trouble would be

repaid by the extra value. So at least it appears.

(2) If we reflect upon the enormous difficulties, so strikingly

brought out by Clausewitz, which _our_ generals have to contend with

and _overcome_ in actual war, it should surely teach us to curb our

criticism. It should surely also make us resolve in future to try to

aid them as far as is in our power at home, and not thoughtlessly to

increase their already stupendous burdens. In the past we at home have

much to accuse ourselves of, much to regret. In the past often have

we added to the difficulties of our generals, often have we greatly

weakened their chances, and increased those of their opponents, often

have we, unintentionally, through ignorance cast a weight into the

scale against our country.

(3) The ignorance of the public regarding the conduct of war

constitutes for us a very serious national danger. If this ignorance

were less pronounced, if our statesmen understood the vast importance

of information to the enemy, and the equal importance to our generals

that this information the enemy should NOT obtain, then the public

craving for information regarding every detail of what occurs in

the field, and the demand for the wide publication thereof, would

certainly be repressed. Nothing occurs in any of our campaigns which

is not immediately made known; reports of actions with the fullest

details as to the troops engaged, and the casualties that have befallen

them, appear in the columns of the Press within a few hours of their

occurrence. _Any efforts, therefore, of our generals_ in the field

to maintain _secrecy as to strength, intentions, and movements are

deliberately_, though probably unintentionally, _counteracted by

their own countrymen_. This is due to pure ignorance of war, no doubt,

but the effect of this ignorance is as bad as if it were due to evil

intention. In fairness, however, we must admit that, in the past, the

immense value of reticence has not been fully appreciated by some of

our soldiers themselves, and it were well if, in the future, more

attention were directed to the importance of secrecy.

The results of such almost criminal stupidity may not be apparent

when we are fighting with a savage foe, but if we ever have, as we

undoubtedly some day shall have, the misfortune to find ourselves

engaged with a civilized Power, we may be certain that not only will

the operations be indefinitely prolonged, _and their cost enormously

increased_, but their successful issue will be for us highly

problematical.

In this connection it must be remembered that every Great Power has

secret agents in every country, including Great Britain, and that it

will be easy for such a secret agent to telegraph in cypher or in

some agreed code to an agent in a neutral State all war information

published here, who will telegraph it on at once to the hostile

general, who will thus get, within a very short time of its publication

in London, perhaps just exactly the information he requires to clear up

the strategical or tactical situation for him, and enable him to defeat

the combinations of our generals. As a case in point, take Macmahon's

march on Sedan to relieve Metz in 1870, where secrecy was absolutely

necessary for success, but which became known to the Germans by the

English newspapers.--Result, Sedan.

That this cannot be allowed is plain. It is believed that the

patriotism of our Press will welcome any necessary measure to this end

if it is made compulsory upon ALL.[61]

The Reality of War: A Companion to Clausewitz · 第 10 / 12 章