The US action against Afghanistan and Iraq illustrates the supremacy of the weapon and, therefore, its autonomy.
EDWARD Luttwak says: “When the atomic bomb exploded on the scene in 1945, it appeared that the claims of the strategic autonomy of the air power had again proved to be right in an unexpected way, immediately after having been discredited by the experience of war.” (Le Paradoxe de la Strategie, Edititions Odile Jacob). Actually, what emerged from Hiroshima with an aura of autonomy was the atomic bomb, until it was proved that though a deterrent, it was not an instrument of policy.
The story of the supremacy of the weapon or its autonomization from time to time has been the story of the impact of technology upon warfare. The evolution of the organization of the armed forces has, on the other hand, reflected the evolution of the society more indirectly and with a time lag. However, occasionally, a backward social formation throws up an advanced military machine, not in the sense of advanced weaponry, which it is not possible for a backward formation to provide. Neither does it do so in the shape of a revolutionary organization, but through a temporary unity of primitive arms and a new organization, springing from momentary developments.
This happened with the Mongols under Genghis Khan. However, this combination, giving such a power military superiority, is fragile. It lasts only where pitted against weaker powers. If Khwarizm had been able to repulse the Mongols’ first onslaught, Genghis’ power would most likely have collapsed due to tribal frictions. The tribal unity essential for a certain combination of primitive arms and new organization could survive only in victory. For example, the Zulu army had the same combination of weapons and organization in 1879, when its 10,000 soldiers faced a modern British army of 4,000 and were annihilated by rapid-firing weapons. This one battle brought the surrender of Zululand.
Another weapon which has proved effective in a situation of great disparity between the two sides is that of political commitment. However, the commitment equalizes the disparity only if the terms of engagement are also modified. The Zulu army in South Africa and the Dervish army in Sudan (1896) were both highly committed. But, in fighting pitched battles, they were fighting essentially on the terms of their British enemies and were annihilated. The guerrilla armies of the second-half of the 20th century linked their organization to the struggle for a modification of their societies. This class struggle, combined, in most cases, with the struggle for national emancipation, in its turn, dictated the organization and the tactics of the armies and often gave them victory by dictating the terms of combat to their opponents. The superior armies had to imitate them, so to say, in order to fight them.
In general, the weapons do not become autonomous except where the technological level of one of the opposing societies moves speedily ahead of the other, a phenomenon which appeared in the 15th century. European capitalism first changed the organization of labour. This resulted in the demand for better instruments of labour, which reacted upon the organization and so on. As capitalism is based formally on equal but essentially on unequal exchange, its commercial reality is never very far from war-like conditions. Unequal exchange can repeat itself only if backed by the threat of effective force. For the same reason, the technology developed for the instruments of production passes quickly to the instruments of war. Thus, as capitalism developed in Europe, it was constantly inventing improved and new weapons and, simultaneously modifying the organization of the armed forces.
Weapons like the musket and the cannon could, in the beginning, be copied by Asian blacksmiths. But gradually, as the European industry moved further away from its starting point, both their production and operation began to escape the ability of the Asian technicians to master them. In the 18th century already, the artillery units of the Indian states, which succeeded the Moghal Empire, were commanded by European officers and the forgeries were often supervized by European technicians.
Even more remarkable was the reorganization of these states’ armies to replace the cavalry with the infantry as the centrepiece of the field contingents. This had been necessitated by the appearance of improved cannons and muskets. But the Indian officers seemed unable to grasp the technique of the infantry square which had made the infantry superior to the cavalry, the domineer arm of mediaeval warfare in both Europe and Asia. So, the modern infantry of the Indian states followed the artillery into the command of European mercenaries.
Even more astonishing is the fact that the Indian soldiers, who fought well under the European officers, seemed to revert to their traditional unscientific ways when no longer led by them. This was true not only of 1757, but also of 1857. Bengalis, numbering 50,000, may have been defeated by 1,100 Europeans, supported by 2,100 natives at Plassey because of the treachery of Mir Jafar. But the Battle of Buxar, seven years later, was hard fought as Awadh’s forces had been trained by the French officers, though they did not lead them in the battlefield. Even so, the Awadhis were out-manoeuvred by the British, although the arms on the two sides were of the same standard. The British won because of their superior leadership and organization.
In 1857, it was the British-trained Bengal Army which revolted against them. The sepoys fought according to the technique taught to them by the British. But as time passed, the British training seemed to wear off like an artificial coating, as the Indians reverted to their horde style of warfare. The Indians defending Lucknow at the Battle of Alambagh built ramparts exactly as the British had taught them to. But they did not cover the space between them with crossfire. Apparently, they had forgotten that part of their training. The British flowed through them and bayonetted an almost inert infantry behind the ramparts.
After 1763, political factor had entered the fighting in Europe. As John A. Lynn put it: “After 1763, however, the nature of European conflict would change: wars of dynastic states would give way to wars of nations fought with more intense commitments and with new military instruments” (Warfare, edited by Geoffrey Parker, Cambridge University Press, 1995, p.185). This commitment and the constant induction of new and better weapons into the European armies translated into very high casualties in the intra-European wars. But these same factors were the cause of low European casualties in the colonial wars, wherein the traditional Third World armies suffered immensely. At Omdurman (1896), a British force of 26,000 lost 50 dead, while fully three-fourths of the 40,000 Sudanese were killed.
As a result, all Asian armed resistance to the Europeans ceased up to the Second World War, except for minor skirmishes.
The only exception was the Riff rebellion of the early 20th century. A movement of mountain tribes of Morocco, it was the resistance of the old order to European colonialism rather than a liberation movement.
The armed national liberation movements, which arose in Asia during the Second World War and continued afterwards, as in Vietnam, Philippines, Malaya, Indonesia and Burma, were not defending the pre-colonial order, but claiming the right to independence on the basis of a modern society and economy. They were liberation movements, not pure resistance. The Chinese civil war, beginning in 1927, took on an anti-colonial role 10 years later when the communists assigned primacy to the struggle against the Japanese occupation. Among these movements, the Indonesian struggle remained national democratic, while all others combined national liberation struggle with that for a profound modification of the social system. The two, which combined these two aspects most successfully, China and Vietnam, succeeded against heavy odds, specially Vietnam.
The Vietnamese refused to fight on the terms of either the French or the Americans. Only once did they attack a French fortress in Tonkin frontally, suffering heavy casualties. Otherwise, they used their ability to disperse since the population was with them. This forced their adversaries to disperse too, bringing some sort of parity between the two sides in the numerous small battles. Another advantage that they had and which should not be underestimated is that after the Chinese Red Army reached the Vietnamese frontier, they were not short of arms, though they could never compare in this respect with the French, and far less with the Americans. These arms enabled them to win at isolated points, where they gained supremacy momentarily. Above all, an armed population acquired the confidence to shelter and help the guerrillas.
This manner of organizing the struggle put politics in command of the war, forcing the French and then the Americans to fight on the terms of the Vietnamese. They had to isolate the Vietnamese fighters from the population which then had to be disarmed. This could only be done by the infantry which suffered relatively high casualties. This, in turn, also became a political factor favouring the Vietnamese.
Today, again weapons become autonomous in the relationship between the advanced industrial powers and the Third World. And these are those of the advanced ones. Even if a Third World country acquires nuclear weapons today, it will not help against a great power, as nuclear capability will be destroyed before it can be utilized.
The US action against Afghanistan and Iraq illustrates the supremacy of the weapon and, therefore, its autonomy. It can dictate whether there is to be a war.
Afghanistan is fragmented not only physically but also socially. The governments have ruled the cities and taxed foreign trade. Villages have gone their own ways. Even the long resistance to Soviet occupation did not break the villages’ self-sufficiency, which was admittedly at a very low economic and cultural level.
The highly-effective American aerial action against the Taliban only enabled them to gain access to Kabul and some smaller cities. The traditionally free countryside is controlled neither by them nor by the regime installed by them in Kabul.
Problems get multiplied where the country concerned is not only well-populated, but relatively developed in terms both of governmental authority and the economic and social infrastructure. If the objective of an attacker is pure destruction or pure war (as Clausewitz calls it), it need not be discussed, as it is beyond reason. But if it is to bend the regime to the will of the attacker or to destroy the regime itself, i.e. wage total war, a working society has to be left in place. There, the dilemma is that if the new regime has its roots in the people, it will try to protect the national interests, even against the conqueror putting it in place. If it does not have roots, it will be of little use to the conquering power.
Therefore, the concept of an absolute war waged entirely from the air is not scientific. If a population has to be controlled, infantry has to come into play and, if the occupation is prolonged, the casualties of the occupation army would grow.
As to the backward countries themselves, their armies are for internal repression or for war against other backward states. They can have no thought of standing up to the armed forces of an advanced state in conventional warfare. They, therefore, have to impose their own method of warfare upon the advanced enemy by using the assets that they have, e.g., population and existing technology.
This does not necessarily mean guerrilla warfare, which is one of the aspects of a people’s war. But the people have to be armed and they have to be committed. The premise of any such resistance has to be that, though the arms have become autonomous from time to time, it is the man who ultimately controls the weapons and blunts their effectiveness. However, that can be done only by a people who unite in freedom and not through repression.