CHAPTER 1

WHAT Is WAR?

1. INTRODUCTION

We propose tO consider, first, the several elements of our subject, then .irs several parts or divisions, and, finally, the whole in its internal connecti on. Thus we proceed from the simple tO the complex. Bur in this subject more than in any other it is necessary to begin with a glance at the nature of the whole, because here more than elsewhere the pan and the whole must al­ ways be considered together.

2. DEFINITION

We shall not begin here with a clumsy, pedantic definition of war, but con­ fine ourselves to its essence, the duel. War is nothing but a duel on a larger scale. If we would combine into one conception the countless separate duels of which it consists, we would do well ro think of two w resrlers. Each tries by physical force to compel the other to do his will; his imme­ diate object is to overthrow his adversary and thereby make him incapable of any further resistance.

War is thur an act of force to compel our adv,,-,-sary to do our wilt.

Force, tO meet force, arms itself with the inventions of art and science. Ir is accompanied by insignificant restrictions, hardly worth mentioning, which it imposes on itself under the name of international law and usage,

On WM 26

hue which do not really weaken its power. Force, chat is co say, phys1cnl Corce (for no moral force exists a art from rhe conception of a scare and lnw), is thus the merms; to impose our · ipon the enemy is the iobpct,’To nchieve chis object with certainty we muse disarm the enemy, and this dis­ nrming is by definition the proper aim of military action. It rakes the place 01 the object and in a certain sense pushes it aside as something not be­ longing to war itself.

3. THE USE OF FORCE THEORETICALLY WITHOUT LIM ITS

N ow philanthropic souls might easily imagine that there was an artistic way of disarming or overthrowing our adversary without too much blood­ shed and that this was what the art of war should seek to achieve. However agreeable this may sound, it is a false idea which must be demolished. [n ” affairs so dangerous as war, false ideas proceeding from kindness of heart J are precisely the worst. As the most extensive use of physical force by no means excludes the co-operation of intelligence, he who uses this force ruthlessly, shrinking from no amount of bloodshed, musr gain an advan- ‘­ rage if his adversary does nor do the same. Thereby he forces his adver­ sary’s hand, and rhus each pushes the otl1er tO extremities to which the ‘ only limitation is the strength of resistance on the other side.

This is how the matter must be regarded, and it is a waste–and worse than a waste-of effort tO ignore the element of brutality because of the repugnance it excites.

If rhe wars of civilized nations are far less cruel and destructive than \J” 1

_,

those of the uncivilized, tl1e reason lies in the social condition of the states, both in themselves and in their relations to one another. From this condition, with its attendant circumstances, war arises and is shaped, Jim­ ired and modified. But these things do not themselves belong to war; they 1 already exist. Never in the philosophy of war itself can we incroduce a

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modifying principle without committing an absurdity. .l�- Conflict between men really consists of two different elements: hostile ‘

feeling and hostile intention. We have chosen the latter of these two ele­ ments as the distinguishing mark of our definition because it is the more general. We cannot conceive rhe most savage, almost instinctive, passion of hatred as existing without hostile intention, whereas there are many hos- tile intentions accompanied by absolutely no hostility, or, at all events, no predominant hostility, of feeling. Among savages intentions inspired by

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,•1111111011 lll’t’Vllil; among civilized peoples those prescribed by intelligence. 11111 d11s difference lies not in the intrinsic nanire of savagery and civiliza- 11011, h111 in their accompanying circumstances, institutions, and so forth. 11 docs not necessarily, therefore, exist in every case, bur only prevails in I he majority of cases. In a word, even the most civilized nations can be pussionatcly inflamed against one another.

From chis we see how far from the truth we should be if we ascribed war among civilized men to a purely rational act of the governments and con­ ceived it as continually freeing itself more and more from all passion, so that at lase there was no longer need of the physical existence of armies, but only of the theoretical relations between them-a sort of algebra of action.

Theory was already beginning to move in chis direction when the events of the last war 1 caught us better. lf war is an act of force, the emo­ tions are ,also necessarily involved in it. lf war does not originate from chem, ic still more or less reacts upon them, and che degree of chis depends not upon the stage of civilization, but upon the importance and duration of the hostile interests.

If, therefore, we find that civilized peoples do not put prisoners co death or sack cities and lay countries waste, this is because intelligence plays a greater part in their conduct of war and has caught chem more ef­ fective ways of applying force than these crude manifestations of instinct.

The invention of gunpowder and che advances continually being made in the developmenc of firearms, in themselves show clearly enough that the demand for the destruction of che enemy, inherent in the theoretical conception of war, has been in no way actually weakened or diverted by the advance of civilization.

So we repeat our statement: War is an act of force, and to the applica­ tion of rhat force there is no limit. Each of the adversaries forces the hand of the other, and a reciprocal action results which in theory can have no limit. This is the first reciprocal action char we meet and the first extreme.

(First reciprocal action)

4. THE AIM IS TO DISARM THE ENEMY

We have said that the disarming of the enemy is the aim of military ac­ tion, and we shall now show that, theorecically, ac all events, this is neces- sarily so.

‘The war with Napoleon.

On War • 267

If our opponent is ro do our will, we nrnst put him in a �tio more disadvantageous to him than the sacrifice would be that we eman . The disadvantages of his position should naturally, however, not be nsicory, or, at least, should not appear to be so, or our opponent would waic for a more favorable moment and refuse co yield. Every change in his position that will result from the continuance of military activity, muse thus, at all events in theory, lead to a position still less advantageous. The worst posi- 1 ion in which a belligerent can be placed is char of being completely dis­ nrmed. If, therefore, our opponem is co be forced by military action to do m1r will, we must either actually disarm him or put him in such a condi­ Lion that he is threatened with che probability of our doing so. From this it follows char the disarming or che overthrow of the enemy-whichever we choose co call it-muse always be the aim of military accion.

Now war is nor che action of a live force upon a dead mass-absolute non-resistance would be no sort of war ac all-bm always che collision of rwo live forces with each ocher, and whac we have said of the ultimate aim of military action muse be assumed co apply co both sides. Here, then, is again reciprocal action. So long as I have not overthrown my adversary I must fear that he may overthrow me. f am no longer my own master, but he forces my hand as I force his. This is the second reciprocal action, which leads co the second extreme.

(Second recij,rocai action)

5. UTMOST EXERTION OF FORCES

If we want to overthrow our opponent, we muse proportion our effort co his power of resistance. This power is expressed as a product of two in­ separable factors: the extent of the meam· at his disposal and the strength of his will. The excent of the means at his disposal would be capable of estima­ tion, as it rem (though not entirely) on f igures, but the strength of che will is much less so and only approximately to be measured by the strength of the motive behind it. Assuming that in this way we have got a reasonably probable estimate of our opponent’s power of resistance, we can propor­ tion our efforts accordingly and increase chem so as co secure a prepon­ derance or, if our means do nor suffice for this, as much as we can. Bue our opponent does the same; and chus a fresh competition arises between us which in pure theory once more involves pushing to an extreme. This is the third reciprocal action we meet and a third extreme.

(Third reciprocal action)

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268 · Karl von Clausewitz

6. MODIFICATIONS IN PRACTICE

In the abstract realm of pure conceptions the reflective mind nowhere finds rest till it has reached the extreme, because it is with an extreme that it has to do-a conflict of powers left to themselves and obeying no law but their own. ff, therefore, we wanted from the me1:e theoretical concep­ tion of war to deduce an absolute aim which we are to set before ourselves and the means we are to employ, these continuous reciprocal actions would land us in extremes which would be nothing but a play of fancies produced by a scarcely visible train of logical hair-splitting. If, adhering closely to the absolute, we proposed to get round all difficulties with a stroke of the pen and insist with logical strictness that on every occasion we must be prepared for the extreme of resistance and meet it with the extreme of effort, such a stroke of the pen wou Id be a mere paper law with no application to the real world.

Assuming, too, that this extreme of effort were an absolute quantity that could easily be discovered, we must nevertheless admit that the human mind would hardly submit to be ruled by such logical fantasies. In many cases the result would be a futile expenditure of strength which would be bound to find a restriction in other principles of statesmanship. An effort of will would be required disproportionate to the object in view and impossible to call forth. For the will of man never derives its strength from logical hair-splitting.

Everything, however, assumes a different shape if we pass from the ab­ stract world to that of reality. In the former everything had to remain sub­ ject to optimism and we had to conceive both one side and the other as nor merely striving toward perfection but also attaining it. Will this ever be so in practice? It would if:

1. war were a wholly isolated act, which arose q·uite suddenly and had no connection with the previous course of events,

2. if it consisted of a single decision or of several simultaneous decisions, 3. if its decision were complete in itself and the ensuing political sirn­

ation were not already being taken into account and reacting upon it.

7. WAR IS NEVER AN lSOLATED ACT

With reference to the first of these three points we must remember that neither of the two opponents is for the other an abstract person, even as regards that factor in the power of resistance which does not depend on external things, namely, the will. This will is no wholly unknown quantity:

On War • 2flV

what it has been today tells us what it will be tomorrow. War never breaks out quite suddenly, and its spreading is not the work of a moment. Each of the two opponents can thus to a great extent form an opinion of the other from what he actually is and does, not from what, theoretically, he should be and should do. With his imperfect organization, however, man always remains below the level of the absolute best, and thus these deficiencies, operative on both sides, become a modifying influence.

8. WAR DOES NOT CONSIST OF ONE BLOW

WITHOUT DURATION

The second of the three points gives occasion for the f ollowing observa­ tions:

If the issue in war depended on a single decision or several simultane­ ous decisions, the preparations for that decision or those several decisions would namrally have co be carried to the last extreme. A lost opportunity could never be recalled; the only standard the real world could give us for the preparations we must make would, at best, be those of our adversary, so far as they are known to us, and everything else would once more be relegated to dle realm of abstraction. But if the decision consists of sev­ eral successive acts, each of these with all its attendant circumstances can provide a measure for those which follow, and thus here, too, the real world takes the place of the abstract, and modifies, accordingly, the trend to the extreme.

Every war, however, would necessarily be confined to a single decision or several simultaneous decisions if the means available for the conflict were all brought into operation together or could be so brought into op­ eration. For an adverse decision necessarily climinishes these means, and if they have all been used up in the first decision, a second really becomes unthinkable. All acts of war which could follow would be essentially part of the first and really only constitute its duration.

But we have seen that in the preparations for war the real world has al­ ready taken the place of the mere abstract idea, and an actual standard that of a hypothetical extreme. Each of the two opponents, if for no other reason, will therefore in their reciprocal action stop short of the extreme effort, and their resources will thus not aU be called up together.

But the very nature of these resources and of their employment makes it impossible to put them all into operation at one and the same moment. They consist of the military forces proper, the country with its superficial ex­ tent and its population, and the ailies.

2 70 · Karl von Clausewitz

The country with its superficial extent and its population, as well as being the source of all military forces proper, is also in itself an integral part of the factors operative in war, if only with that pare which provides the theater of war or has a marked influence upon it.

Now all movable military resources can very well be put into operation simultaneously, but not all the fortresses, rivers, mountains, inhabitants, and so forth-in a word, the whole country, unless it is so small as to be wholly embraced by the first act of war. Furthermore, the co-operation of the allies does not depend upon the will of the belligerents, and from the very nature of political relations, it frequently does not come into effect or become active till later, for the purpose of restoring a balance of forces chat has been upset.

That this part of the means of resistance, which cannot be brought into operation all at once, in many cases is a much larger part of the whole than at first sight we should think; and that consequently it is capable of restoring the balance of forces even when the first decision has been made with great violence and chat balance has thus been seriously disturbed, will be more Ii.illy explained lacer. At chis point it is enough to show chat co make all our resources available ac one and the same moment is con­ trary to tbe nature of war. Now in itself chis could furnish no ground for relaxing the intensity of our efforts for the first decision, because an unfa­ vorable issue is always a disadvantage to which no one will purposely ex­ pose himself, because even if the first decision is followed by others, the more decisive it has been, the greater will be its influence upon them. But the possibility of a subsequent decis.ion is something in which man’s shrinking from excessive effort causes him to seek refuge, and thus for the first decision his resources are not concentrated and strained co che same degree as they would otherwise have been. What either of the two oppo­ nents omits from weakness becomes for che other a real, objective ground for relaxing his own efforts, and thus, through this reciprocal action, the trend to the extreme is once more reduced to a limited measure of effort.

9. THE RESULT OF A WAR 15 NEVER ABSOLUTE

Lastly, the final decision of a whole war is not always to be regarded as an absolute one. The defeated srace often sees in it only a transitory evil, for which a remedy can yet be found in the political circumstances of a later day. How greatly this also must modify the violence of the strain and the intensity of the effort is obvious.

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10. THE PROBABILITIES OF REAL LIFE TAKE THE PLACE OF THE EXTREME AND

ABSOLUTE DEMANDED BY THEORY

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In this way the whole field of war ceases to be subject to the strict law of forces pushed to the extreme. If the extreme is no longer shunned and no longer sought, it is left to the judgment to determine the limits of effort, and this can only be done by deduction according to th�__p� from the data supplied by the phenomena of the real world. If the two ad­ versaries are no longer mere abstractions but individual states and gov­ ernments, if the course of events is no longer theoretical but one that is determined according co its own laws, then the actual situation supplies th:_�_!!.ra�scerraining what is to be exe_ecced, the unknown chat has to be discovered.

From the character, the institutions, the situation and the circum­ stances of the adversary, each side will draw its conclusions, in accordance with the laws of probability, as to what the action of the other will be and determine its own accordingly.

11. THE POLI TICAL OBJ £CT NOW COMES fORWARD ACAJN

At this point a subject, which in Section 2 we had dismissed, now once more insists on claiming our consideration: namely, the politicnl object of the war. The law of the extreme, the intention of disarming the enemy and overthrowing him, had up co now, so to speak, more or less swallowed it ,, up. As th.is law loses its force, and this intention falls short of its aim, the I ‘ r political object of the war once more comes to the front. If all we have to (i-• h ,1.,-� consider is a calculation of{pro_2.abi�•starting from defin.ite persons .J; and circumstances, the political object as the original motive must be an •e , essential factor in this process. The smaller the sacrifice we demand from 1 , 1- our adversary, the slighter we may expect his efforts to be to refuse it co us. ),. The slighter, however, his effort, the smaller need our own be. Further- more, the less important our political object, the less will be the value we attach to it and the readier we shall be to abandon it. For chis reason also our own efforts will be the slighter.

Thus the political object as the original motive of the war wiB be the standard alike for the aim to be attained by military action and for the ef­ forts required for this purpose. Jc cannot be in itself an absolute standard,

272 • Karl von Clau;ewitz

but, as we are dealing with real things and nor with mere ideas, it will bt· the standard relative to the two contending states. One and the same po lirical object can in different nations, and even in one and the same nation at different rimes, produce different reactions. We can therefore allow the political object to serve as a standard only in so far as we bear in mind it� influence on the masses which it is to affect. So the character of these masses must be considered. It is easy to see that the result may be quire different, according as the action is strengthened or weakened by the feel ing of the masses. In two nations and states such tensions, and such a mass of hostile feelings, may exist that a motive for war, very trifling in itself, still can produce a wholly disproportionate effe�t-a positive explosion.

This holds good for the efforrs which the political object can call forth in the two states, and for the aim it can assign to military action. Some rimes it can itself become this aim, for example, if it is the conquest of a certain provi.nce. Sometimes the political object will not itself be suited to

( provide the aim for military action, and in such cases one must be chosen

‘- of such a kind as will serve as an equivalent for it and can take its place in ,’, –…….{he conclusion of peace. But in this case also due consideration for the

y..-‘ 1 r character of the states concerned is always presupposed. There are cir-

� 1 cumscances in which the equivalent must be much more considerable than the political object, if the latter is to be attained by it. The greater the in-

.,J, I difference of the masses and the less serious the tensions that on other / grounds also exist in the two states and their relations, the more dominant

\ as a standard, and decisive in itself, will the political object be. There are cases in which it is, almost by itself, the deciding factor.

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Now if the aim of the military action is an equivalent for the politi.cal object, that action will in general diminish as the political object dimin­ ishes. The more this object comes to the front, the more will this be so. This explains how, without self-contradiction, there can be wars of all de­ grees of impo�d…en�g

r , from a war of extermination down co a

mere stan;:..of 1’rmed observation But this leads us to a question of another kiod,wl1ich we have still to analyze and answer.

12. A SUSPENSION OF MILITARY ACTlON

NOT EXPLAINED BY ANYTHING YET SAID

However insignificant the political claims made on either side, however weak the means employed and however trifling the aim to which military action is directed, can this action ever for a moment be suspended? This is a question that goes deep into the essence of the matter.

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On Wnr · 273

Every action requires for its accomplishment a certain time, which we , ,Ill its duration. This may be longer or shorter, according as the person ,11ting is more or less q11ick in hjs movements.

About this we shall noc here trouble ourselves. Everyone does his busi- 11l’SS ill his own fashion; but the slow person does not do .it more slowly be­ ‘ nusc he wants to spend more rime on it but because by his nature he 11ccds ,nore time, and if he were to make greater haste, he would do it less \Vl’ll. This time, therefore, depends on subjective causes and belongs to the ncmal duration of the action.

If we now allow to every action in war its duration, we must admit, at ,ill events at first sight, that every expenditure of rime in excess of this du­ rntion, that is to say, every suspension of military action, seems co be ab­ surd. In this connection we must always remember that t�uestion is not of the progre� of one or ocher of the two opponents, but.of the..� of the military action as a whole. �

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13. THERE JS ON LY ONE CAUSE TllAT CAN

SUSPEND ACTION, AND THIS SEEMS ALWAYS

TO BE POSS! BLE ON ONE 51 DE ONLY

ff cwo parties have armed themselves for the conflict, a hostile motive muse have caused them to do so. So long then as they remain under arms, so long, rhat is, as they do not make peace, this motive must be present and can only — _ cease to act with either of the two opponents for one sole reason, namely, -/ that he vant.r to wait for a more favorable moment for action. Now, it is obvious /{<‘ rhat this reason can only be present on one of the two sides, because by it.� “‘”‘

very nature it becomes the opposite on the other. Tf it is to the interest of ‘””‘t

the one :ommander to act, it must be to the interest of the ocher to wait. A complete equilibrium of forces can never produce a suspension of’-]

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action, f:>r in such a suspension he who has the positive aim-that is, th /

�,” assailanr-would necessarily retain the initiative. /. I

But if we chose to conceive the equilibrium as such that he who has the positive aim, and therefore the stronger motive, has at the same rime the smaller urccs at his disposition, so that the equation would arise from the prod.let of morives and forces, we should still have to say that if no change ii this condition of equilibrium is to be foreseen, both sides must make peace. But if a change is to be foreseen, it will be in favor of one side only, and for that reason the other will necessarily be moved to action. We see that die idea of an equilibrium cannot explain a suspension of hostil­ ities, bu tall it amounts to is the waiting for a more favorable moment. Let

274 • Kart von Clausewitz

us assume, therefore, that of cwo states one bas a positive aim, the con quest, for instance, of one of the adversary’s provinces to be used as 11 counter in the settlement of peace. After this conquest his political object is attained, the need for action ceases and he can cake rest. ff his adversary is prepared to acquiesce in chis result, he must make peace; if not, he must act. If it is thought now that in four weeks’ time he will be in a better con­ dition to do so, then he has sufficient grounds for postponing his action.

Bue from that moment the duty of action seems to fall logically upon his opponem, in order that no time be allowed co the vanquished to pre­ pare for action. In all chis, it is, of course, assumed that each side has a complete knowledge of the circumstances.

14. THUS A CONTINUITY WOULD BE INTRODUCED INTO MILITARY ACTION FORCING EVERYTHING

AGAJN TO A CLIMAX

ff chis concirrnicy of military action actually existed, everything would again be driven by it to the extreme. For apart from the fact that such ceaseless activity wuuld give a greater bitterness to the feelings and im­ part co the whole a higher degree of passion and a greater elemental force, there would also arise through the continuity of action a more inevitable sequence of events and a less disrnrbed causal connection between them. Each action would in consequence become more important and thus more dangerous.

Bue we k.now that military action seldom or never has this continuity, and that there are many wars in w�_b:y far tl!_t smallest part of the cim�ecl;ancfinaction all the rest. This cannot possibly be al­ ways an anomalr,Suspensiofiofm1htary action must be possible, chat is co say, not a contradiction in itself. That this is so, and why, we will now show.

15. HERE, THEREFORE, A PRINCIPLE OF POLARITY IS BROUGHT .INTO EVIDENCE

By supposing the interests of the one commander co be always diametri­ cally opposed to those of che other, we have assumed a true polarity. We propose lacer on to devote a special chapter to chis principle, but for the present must make one observation upon it.

The principle of polarity only holds good if it is conceived in one and the same thing, in which che positive and its opposite, the negative, exactly

On War · 275

destroy one another. In a battle each of the two parties wishes co win; chat is true polarity, for the victory of the one destroys that of the other. But if we are speaking of two different things which have a common relation ex­ ternal co themselves, it is not the things but their relations that have the polarity.

——………

16. ATTACK AND DEFENSE ARE THINGS

( DIFFERENT IN KIND AND OF UNEQUAL} \._ FORCE. POLARITY THEREFORE JS NOT

APPLICABLE TO THEM

If there were only one form of war, namely, the attack of the enemy, therefore no defense; in ocher words if the attack were distinguished from the defense merely by che positive motive, which the one has and the other has not, but the methods of the fight were always one and the same, in such a fight every advantage co the one side would be an equal disad­ vantage co the other and true polarity would exist.

Bur military activity cakes two separate forms, attack and defense, which, as we shall later on explain in detail, are very different and of un­ equal strength. Polarity lies therefore in that to which they both bear a re­ lation, namely, the decision, but not in attack or defense itself. lf one commander wishes co postpone the decision, tl1e ocher must wish tO has­ ten it, but, of course, only in the same form of conflict. If it is co Ifs inter­ est not to attack his opponent at once but four weeks hence, .it is co B’s interest co be attacked by him at once and not four weeks hence. Here is a direct opposition; bm it does not follow therefrom that it is to B’s interest co attack A at once. That is obviously something quite different.

17. THE EFFECT OF POLARITY JS OFTEN DESTROYED BY THE SUPERIORITY OF THE DEFENSE TO THE ATTACK. THIS EXPLAINS

THE SUSPENSfON OF MILITARY ACTION

1f the form of defense, as we shall hereafter show, is stronger than that of attack, the question arises whether the advantage of a deferred decision is as great for che one side as chat of the defense is for the ocher. When it is not, it cannot by means of its opposite outweigh the latter a11d so influ­ ence the course of military action. We thus see that the impulsive force which lies in the polarity of interests may be lose in the difference be-

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276 · Karl von Cl1111Sewitz

tween the strength of the attack and that of the defonse, and thereby be­ comes ineffectual.

If, therefore, the side for which the present is favorable is too weak to be able to dispense with the advantage of the defensive, it must resign it­ self to facing a less favorable future. For it may still be better to fight a de­ fensive battle in the unfavorable funire than an offensive one in the present, or than tO make peace. Now as we are convinced that the superi-

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v ority of the defense (rightly understood) is very great and much greater than may appear at first sight, a very large proportion of the periods of suspended action which occur in war are thereby explained, without our being necessarily involved in a contradiction. The weaker the motives tO

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action are, the more they will be swallowed up and neutralized by chis dif­ ference between attack and defense. The more frequently, therefore, will military action be brought tO a standstill, as, indeed, experience teaches.

l8. A SECOND CAUSE LIES IN TILE JMPERFECT KNOWLEDGE OF TllE SITUATION

But there is still another cause that can stop military action, and that is im­ perfect knowledge of the siruarion. No commander has accurate personal

� knowledge of any position but his own; that of his adversary is only � _ • known tO him by uncertain reports. He can make a mistake in his judg- � <” rnenr of them and in conseque;;;;’ of rhis misra�elieve chat the initia­

tive lies with his opponent when it really lies with himself. This wane of knowledge c�, it is true, just as ofi:en occasion untimely action as un­ timely inaction and would in itself no more conrri e tO delay than tO hasten military action. Still it muse always be regarded as one o t 1e nat­ ural causes thar, without involving an internal conrradiccion, may bring military action tO a standstill. If, however, we reOect how much more we are inclined and induced tO estimate the strength of our opponent too high rather than coo low, because it lies in human nature co do so, we must also admit that �erfect knowledge of �eneral greatly contribute to putting a stop to military action and moclifying the �c�p�n \vhich it is CQ.llducted.

The possibility of a standstill introduces into military action a new modification by diluting ir, so to speak, with the element of time, halting danger in its stride and increasing the means for restoring a lost balance of forces. The greater rhe tensions our of which the war has sprung and the greater in consequence the energy with which it is waged, the shorter will

On War•

be these periods of inaction; the weaker the hostile feeling, the longer will they be. For stronger motives increase the power of the will, and this, n.� we know, is always a factor in the product of our forces.

19. FREQUENT PERIODS OF INACTI ON REMOVE WAR STILL FURTHER FROM THE REALM OF EXACT

THEORY AND MAKE IT STILL MORE A CALCULATION OF PROBABILITIES

Bur the more slowly military action proceeds and the longer and more frequent the periods of inaction, so much the more readily can a mistake be repaired, the bolder the commander will thus become in his assump­ tions, and the more readily wlll he at the same time remain below the ex­ treme demanded by theory and build everything upon probability and conjecture. So the more or less leisurely course of military action allows more or less time n wl t a f the crete siniation in itsetr;J:­ ready �rnands, namely, a ca.lculation of robabilities ·n accordaiice with the given circumstances.

20. SO ONLY THE ELEMENT OF CHANCE lS NOW LACKING TO MAKE OF WAR A GAMBLE, AND IN THIS ELEMENT IT JS LEAST OF ALL DEFICIENT

We see from the foregoing how much the objective nature of war makes it a calculation of probabilities. ft now needs but one single element more to make of it a gamble, and that element it certainly does not lack-the ele­ ment of chance. There is no human activity that stands in such constant and universal contact with chance as does war. Thus together with chance, the accidental and, with it; good Ju� play a great part in war.

21. THROUGH ITS SUBJECTIVE AS WELL AS THROUGH ITS OBJECTIVE NATURE

WAR BECOMES A GAMBLE

If we now glance at the subjective nature of war, that is, at those qualities with which it muse be carried on, it must strike us as still more like a gam­ ble. The element in which the acriviry of war moves is danger; but, in dan­ ger, which is the most superior of all moral qualities? It is courage. Now

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278 · Karl von Clausewitz

courage is certainly quite compatible with prudent calculation, but courage and calculation are nevertheless things different in kind and be­ longing to different parts of the mind. On the other hand, daring, reliance on good fortune, bol.dness and foolhardiness are only mamfestaaoo”S of c�urags and all these efforts of the spirit seek the accidental because-i:l'”i:s tf1eir proper element .

We thus see that from the very first rhe absolute, the so-called theoret­ ical, faculty finds nowhere a sure basis in the calculations of rJ1e art of war. From the outset there is a play of possibilities and probabilities, of good and bad luck, which permeates every thread, great or small, of its web and

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f all branches of human activity, the most like a game of

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THE HUMAN MIND JN GENERAL

/Although our intellect always feels itself urged toward clarity and cer­ , rainty, our mind still often feels itself attracted by uncertainty. Instead of

threading its way with the intellect along the narrow path of philosophi­ cal investigation and logical deduction, in order, almost unconsciously, to arrive in spaces where it finds itself a stranger and where all familiar ob-

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jects seem to abandon it, it prefers to linger with imagination in the realm of chance and luck. Tnsteacl of being confined, as in the first instance, to meager necessity, i,t �re in the wealth of eo�bilities. Enraptured thereby, courage takes to itself wings, and thus daring and danger become the element into which it flings itself as a fearless swimmer flings himself�

into the stream. Shall theory leave it here and move on, self-satisfied, to absolute con­

clusions and rules? fn mat case it is of no practical use. Theory must also take into account the lrnman element and accord a place to courage and boldness and even to foolhardiness. The art of war has to do with living and with moral forces; from this it follows that it can nowhere attain the absolute and certain; there remains always a margin for the accidental just as much with the greatest things as wirJ1 the smallest. As on the one side stands this accidental element, so on the other courage and self­ confidence must step forward and fill up the gap. Ihe greater the courage and self-confid:,n�, the larger. the….!!!1lrgiiuh.� b�cci­ dental. Courage and self-confidence are thus principles absolutely essen­ tial for war. Consequently theory must only lay down such rules as allow free scope for mese necessary and noblest of military virtues in all their

011 War · 279

degrees and variations. Even in daring rJ1ere is still wisdom and prudence as well, only mey are estimated by a different standard of value.

23. YET WAR STILL REMAINS A SERIOUS MEANS

FOR A SERIOUS OBJECT. MORE PARTICULAR

DEFINITIONS OF IT

Such is war, such the commander who conducts it, and such the theory rhat rules it. But war is no pastime, no mere passion for daring and win­ ning, no work of a free enthusiasm; it is a serious means to a serious end. All that it displays of that glamour oftornrne, all rhat 1t asslffillates of the thrills of passion and courage, of imagination and enthusiasm, are only particular properties of this means.

I!1e wa�ty-of whole nations and particularly of civi­ lized nations-always arises from a political condition and is called forth by a political motive.ltis,”””tl1ererore, a political act. �ow if it were an act complete in itself and undisturbed, an absolute manifestation of violence, as we had to deduce it from its mere conception, it would, from the mo­ ment it was called forth by policy, step into me place of policy and, as something quite independent of it, set it aside and follow only its own laws, just as a mine, when it is going off, can no longer be guided into any other direction tl1an that given it by previous adjusanents. This is how the thing has hitherto been regarded even in practice, whenever a lack of har­ mony between policy and the conduct of war has led to theoretical dis­ tinctions of this kind. But it is not so, and mis idea is radically false. War in the real world, as we have seen, is no such extreme thing releasing its tension in a single discharge; it is the operation of forces which do not in every case develop in exactly the same way and rJ1e same proportion but which at one moment rise to a pitch sufficient to overcome the resistance which i,nertia and friction oppose to them, while at another, they are too weak to produce any effect. War is, therefore, so to speak, a regular pulsa­ tion of violence, more or less vehement and consequently more or less quick in relaxing tensions and exhausting forces-in other words, more or less quickly leading to its goal. But it always lasts long enough to exert, in its course, an influence upon that goal, so rhat its direction can be changed in this way or that-in short, long enough to remain subject to the will of a guiding intelligence. Now if we reflect that war has its origin in a polit­ ical object, we see that th.is first motive, which called it inco existence, nat­ urally remains the first and highest considerati.on to be regarded in its conduct. But the political object is not on that account a despotic lawgiver;

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280 · Karl von Clausewitz

it must adapt itself co the nature of the means at its disposal and is often thereby completely changed, but it must always be the first thing to be considered. Policy, therefore, will permeate the whole action of war and exercise a continual influence upon it, so far as the nature of the explosive forces in ic allow.

24. WAR IS A MERE CONTINUATION

OF POLICY BY OTHER MEANS

We see, therefore, chat war is not merely a political ace but a real political instrument, a continuation of political intercourse, a carrying out of the same by ocher means. What now still remains peculiar to war relates merely to the peculiar character of the means it uses. The art of war in general and the commander in each particular case can demand chat the tendencies and designs of policy shall be not incompatible with these means, and the claim is certainly no trifling one. But however powerfully it may react on political designs in particular cases, still it must always be regarded as only a modification of them; for the political design is rhe ob­ ject, while war is the means, and the means can never be thought of apart from the object.

25. DIVERSITY IN THE NATURE Of WARS

The greater and tbe more powerful the motives for war, the more they af­ fect the whole existence of the nations involved, and the more violent the tension which precedes war, so much the more closely will war conform co its abstract conception. The more it will be concerned with the destruc­ tion of the enemy, the more closely the military aim and the political ob­ ject coincide, and the more purely military, and the less political, war �eem� But the weaker the motives and the tensions, the less willtne natural tendency of the military element, the tendency to violence, coin­ cide with the directives of policy; the more, therefore, muse war be di­ verted from its nacural tendency, the greater is the difference between d1e political object and the aim of an ideal war, and the more does war seem to become political.

Bue chat the reader may not form false conceptions, we muse here re­ mark that by d1is natural tendency of war we only mean tbe philosophi­ cal, the strictly logical tendency, and by no means chat of the forces accually engaged in conflict, to the point where, for instance, all emotions

On War · 281

and passions of the combatants should be reckoned as included. These too, it is true, might in many cases be excited co such a pitch chat they could with difficulty be kept confined to the political road; but in most cases such a contradiction will not arise, because the existence of such strong emotions will imply the existence also of a great plan in harmon

7, with chem. If ilie plan is directed only to a trifling object, the emotional excitement of d1e masses will be so slight chat they will always be rather •yr in need of being pushed on than of being held back. ‘

26. ALL WARS MAY BE REGARDED

AS POLITICAL ACTS

To return co our main subject: Though it is true chat in one kind of war policy seems entirely to disappear, while in another it very definitely comes to ilie front, we can nevertheless maintain that the one kind is as political as the other.r’ora we regard poficy as the intelligence of the per­ sonrtied state, we muse include among the combinations of circumstances

\ which its calculations have co take into account that in which the nature of all the circl1mstan��ostulaces a war of tl1e first kind. It is only if we un­ derstand the term “policy” not as a comprehensive knowledge of the situ­ ation buc the conventional idea of a cautious, crafty, even dishonest cunning, averse co violence, chat the latter kind of war could belong to it more than does the former.

27. CONSEQUENCES OF THIS VJEW FOR THE

UNDERSTANDING OF MlLJTARY HISTORY AND

FOR THE fOUNDATIONS OF THEORY

We see, therefore, in the first place chat in all circumstances we have to think of war not as an independent d1ing, but as a political instrument. And only by taking this point of view can we avoid falling into contradic­ tion with the whole of military history. This alone opens the great book to intelligent appreciation. In the second place, chis same point of view shows us how wars must differ according co the nature of their motives and of the circumstances out of which they arise.

Now the first, the greatest and the most decisive act of the judgment which a statesman and commander performs is char of correctly recogniz­ ing in this respect the kind of war he is undertaking, of not taking it for, or wishing to make it, something which by the nature of the circumstances it

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282 · Karl von Clausewitz

cannot be. This is, therefore, the first and most comprehensive of all strategic questions. Later on, in the chapter on the plan of a war, we shall examine it more closely.

For the moment we content ourselves with having brought our subject to this point and thereby fixed the main point of view from which war and the theory of war musr be regarded.

28. RESULT FOR TIIEORY

War is, therefore, nor only a veritable chameleon, because in each con­ crete case it changes somewhat its character, but it is also, when regarded as a whole, in relation co the tendencies predominating in it, a strange �rinity�omposed of the original violence of irs essence the hate and en­ �ritr _ich a .re co be regarded as a me, natura imptr se, otfcnepl�f-1probabilities and chance, which make it a free activity of the emotions, and of the subordinate character of a political �’:!)through which it be­ longs co the province of pure intelligence.

/ The first of these three sides is more particularly the concern of the (

. people, the second that of the commander and his army, the third that of

‘-, the government. The passions which are to blaze up in war must be al- ready present in the peoples concerned; the scope that the play of courage and talent will get in the realm of the probabilities of chance depends on the character of the commander and the army; the political objects, how-

…, “-ever, are the concern of the government alone.

..;! These three tendencies, which appear as so many lawgiver� lie deep in

‘< the nature of the subject and at the same time vary in magnirude. A the­ ory which insisted on leaving one of them out of account, or on fixing an arbitrary relation between them, would immediately fall inco such contra­ diction with reality that through this alone it would forthwith necessarily be regarded as destroyed.

The problem, therefore, is that of keeping the theory poised between rhese three tendencies as between three centers of attraction.,.. ,…,,1,, · J

How this difficult problem can be solved in the most satisfactory way, we propose to investigate in the book dealing with the theory of war. In any case this definition of the conception of war becomes for us the first ray of light that falls upon the foundations of theory, and will for the first time separate its mrun features and enable us to distinguish them.

CHAPTER 2

END AND MEANS IN WAR

Having in the previous chapter ascertained the complex and variable na­ rure of war, we shall now occupy ourselves in considering what influence this has upon the means and the end in war.

If, first of all, we ask what is the aim co which the whole war must be directed so as to be the proper means for attaining the political object, we find that this is just as variable as are the political object and the particu­ lar circumstances of the war.

If we begin by keeping once more to pure theory, we are bound to say 1 , /,

that the political object of war really lies outside of war’s province; for if war is an act of violence to compel the enemy ro do our will, then in every case everything wou lei necessarily and solely depend on overthrowing the enemy, that is to say, of disarming him. This object, which is deduced from pure theory bur to which in reality a large number of cases nearly ap­ proximate, we shall first of all examine in the light of this reality.

Later on, in the plan of a war, we shall consider more closely what dis­ arming a state means, bur we must here at once distinguish between three things, which as three general categories include everything else. They are the military forces, the country and the wilt of the enemy.

The mititrtry forces must be destroyed, that is to say, put into such a con­ dition that they can no longer continue to fight. We take this opportunity to explain that in what follows the expression “destruction of the enemy’s military forces” is to be u nclerstoocl only in this sense.

The country must be conquered, for from the country fresh military forces could be raised.