Daniel S. Margolies |
Review of Brian McAllister Linn, The Echo of Battle: The Army's Way
of War. Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 2007.
Pp. 312. ISBN 978-0-674-02651-3. |
Brian
Linn quickly and authoritatively evaluates the ever-shifting analyses
of the meaning of American warfighting to demonstrate the impact of
military philosophy on policymaking. He argues that "peacetime
intellectual debate" over war had a greater impact on the "army's way
of war" than battle itself (234). To support his argument, Linn
goes beyond discussion of operational planning and the legacies of
past battles to discern "three distinct intellectual traditions that
together make up the 'army way of war'" (5), traditions which he
labels Guardians, Heroes, and Managers. He traces the evolution of these
philosophical schools, pointing out aspects of each that have
persisted in fascinating and significant ways through time. He
stresses the poor understanding and ongoing misuse of the "echoes
of battle" or "the dead hand of the past" in each era (235). He intends
to break the pattern of such misconceptions. This is not a definitive
history of army warfighting but a survey of its salient
characteristics and framework. Proceeding chronologically, Linn
provides both an intellectual and an institutional history of the rise
and transformation of military theory and professionalism during two
centuries of often ill-conceived strategic plans.
The
philosophy of "the Guardians" revolves around a technocratic and
defensive stance adopted in the isolationist nineteenth century and
still present in significant ways in army policy today. It espouses
a belief in "the application of scientific principles by skilled
technicians" for success. "Heroes," on the other hand, emphasize men
over scientific method and have "defined warfare by personal
intangibles such as military genius, experience, courage, morale, and
discipline" (6). The Heroes, Linn argues, champion traditional martial
virtues and battle itself and tend to disparage institutions in favor
of a "muddy boots fundamentalism" ( 7). Finally, "Managers" contrast
with the other two groups by their focus on the material and political
contexts of warfare, accentuating the importance of mass mobilization,
technological superiority, professionalization, and a concern with
future warfare. "For Managers, war is fundamentally an organizational
(as opposed to an engineering) problem" (8).
In
less competent hands, such a schema might easily degenerate into bland
generalizations and clever Thomas Friedman-style nomenclature. But
Linn masterfully uses these categories to reveal Americans' conception
of their own military history and strategic interests. Throughout, he
tracks the influence and interrelations of "military intellectuals"
and institutional power centers in the formulation of military policy.
In the
Early Republic and Antebellum years, the major security concern of the
United States was protecting the nation from European attacks on
ports, cities, and shipping, no surprise after the British occupation
and destruction during the American Revolution and the War of 1812,
culminating in the burning of Washington. Security seemed to mean a
series of fortifications along the coasts and the frontier coupled
with a small army and a strong, outward looking Navy capable of
projecting power abroad. At the heart of the effort was a search for
the greatest security at the least cost. Linn argues that this
approach reveals three of the "essential Guardian presuppositions": an
emphasis on defense of the continental United States, a belief in the
importance of marshalling "overwhelming strength," and a conviction
that national defense and warfare were governed by scientific
principles understood only by "a trained military elite" (12).
Linn
appreciates the concern with achieving security without sacrificing
liberties or opening the door to "military dictatorship" (12), but
argues that construction of fortifications was often motivated by
"alarmist future scenarios and statistics, many of them
counterfactual" (18). He discusses essential military thinkers like
Dennis Hart Mahan and Henry W. Halleck, and the influence of the
experience and operations of the Mexican War, the Crimean War, and the
late nineteenth century attempt to reform the defense system in line
with the Guardian mentality. He traces the interplay between the
Fortification Board, the Corps of Engineers, and the line army
(infantry, cavalry, and artillery) and details changes and
continuities in this coastal fortification policy suggested by the
later Endicott Board but never competently implemented.
The
Guardians' obsession with defense technologies blinded them to the
shape of future conflicts and the potentials of new offensive
technologies. They ignored or denied evidence that did not support
their own understanding of proper warfighting. The Civil War clearly
revealed the technological advances in heavy guns and the limitations
of the coastal fortifications at places like Fort Sumter and New
Orleans. The Guardians
moved toward a new emphasis.
Linn
argues that, contrary to some wishful analysis, for the army the time
between the Civil War and the Spanish-American War was "an era of
confusion and disagreement, of many wrong turns and mistaken
assumptions" (41). He traces the rise of the concept of "modern warfare" to the
transformations of battle and military logistics produced by
industrialization and to the only partially learned lessons of the
Civil War. Linn describes "the senior leadership's failure to provide a clear vision
of a new way of war [that] was reflected at the lower levels as well" (48).
Part of the problem was a lack of institutional development and focus.
Linn writes approvingly of late nineteenth-century theorists like
Emory Upton, Arthur L. Wagner, John Bigelow, and many lesser known
military intellectuals in regard to technological advances in weaponry
and their attendant effects on tactics and strategy.
In the
third chapter, Linn discusses the rise of the Heroes out of the
experience of frontier and imperial wars starting with the Spanish
American War. He covers unconventional warfare and the use of the army
in response to civil unrest and international terrorism, but notes
that none of these actually prepared the army for its imperial uses
overseas after 1898 and that the army's experiences in imperialistic
overseas ventures "never coalesced into a formal doctrine based on a
theoretical understanding of unconventional war…. Unconventional
warfare has often been the army's task but seldom its calling" (89,
91).
Linn
considers the transformations that Secretary of War Elihu Root
(1899-1904) made in the army's preparation for war, marshalling of
material resources, organizational restructuring, and adoption of the
technology of modern war. He focuses here more directly on the
interplay between Managers and Heroes, noting that, ironically, "many
officers embraced the concepts of modern warfare while simultaneously
rejecting modernization" (110); they sought not only to reform
military policy but to bring social and political institutions in line
with the army's interests as well. Linn also discusses the prominence
of foreign examples in war plan making, which had become much more
prominent at this time, and the ways that planning (such as in the
case of war plans for Japan) transformed the understanding of the
roles of and balance of power between the services.
The
heart of the book treats the period since the 1920s. Post-World War I
isolationism spurred a renewed emphasis on defensive fortifications
and debates over the role of the rapidly evolving new technologies of
war, including air power. Efforts to devise a coherent military
policy after World War I were complicated by the intensifying struggle
for position among Guardians, Heroes, and Managers; this resulted in
"enormous divides between military intellectuals over strategy,
technology, [and] the nature of war," as well as "radically different
interpretations of the past and visions of the future" (149). Guardians, continuing to magnify future threats and the promise of new
technologies, retained "the dominant influence on the nation's
security policy" (128) throughout the interwar period. Heroes,
nevertheless, helped shape preparations for offensive operations in
future conflicts, though they struggled to fully grasp the meaning of
new technologies like the tank.
In the
post-1945 era, "service priorities" more than any consistent defense
philosophy determined army policy. Competition between visions of the roles of
airborne and armored troops, mislearned lessons from the Korean
War, and the build-up of forces in Europe made for "a potent mixture
of institutional self-interest and intellectual challenge that would
captivate military thinkers for the next four decades" (164). Linn
wisely underscores the influence of executive branch policymaking by
Eisenhower and Maxwell D. Taylor (Army Chief of Staff, 1955-59): "In
practice Taylor's reorganization was better described as
disorganization; it created units more Potemkin than Pentomic" (179).
He considers the significance and success of Cold War army policy in
responding to the astounding array of concerns wrapped up in
conceiving of atomic warfare. Linn is at his best in this
section--thorough, concise, and sharp.
Under
the Managers during the early Cold War, the army unwisely deemphasized
unconventional warfare, "pacification, nation building, or civic
action" (182), though Linn finds new doctrines being explored by
military intellectuals of the time. These prescient voices were, of
course, wholly ignored as the United States embroiled itself in
Indochina with disastrous results. Linn also details the evolving
relationship between Guardian and Manager military intellectuals and
the public regarding atomic war, characterizing the latter as a
"largely negative" influence (190).
In the
aftermath of Vietnam, the army did not embark on a self-study program
as it had after previous conflicts. Instead, it promoted a "Vietnam
myth" of political failure at home. A mixed, reactive reform program
split along philosophical lines. The legacy of defeat in Vietnam
challenged both Heroes and the Managers, while the Guardian school was
revitalized by the Reagan-era Strategic Defense Initiative and the
Weinberger-Powell Doctrine of maximum force and exit strategies. In
the 1970s and 1980s, the army returned to a concern with conventional
land conflict and achieving dominance in the competition with the
Soviet Union. Linn focuses on General William E. DePuy, who ran the
Training and Doctrine Command from 1973 to 1977. DePuy fused the
Guardian and Managerial approaches in writing the "army's keystone
doctrinal manual FM 100-5: Operations" in 1976 (201), discussed
in great detail here. Many changes ensued, including significant new
weapons systems. Further reform followed in 1982 with the emergence of
"AirLand Battle" doctrine. Despite the army's investment in new
training centers like the School of Advanced Military Studies, Linn
maintains it did not fully grasp the challenges of unconventional
warfare. He critiques the army's touting of the end of the "Vietnam
Syndrome" after the 1991 Gulf War as cast in "the style of a biblical
redemption narrative, replete with prophets and miracles" (220).
Linn's
book deploys an impressive array of sources, including the results of
considerable archival work in core collections. The breadth of scope,
dictated by the thematic approach, may leave unsatisfied those seeking
more detail on any specific period, and its author does
(appropriately) assume some familiarity with the basic flow of events.
Nonetheless, by his fleshing out of the theoretical framework, Linn
manages to make his book accessible to non-specialists as well as
military historians.
However, despite Linn's evident mastery of the material, the book
feels a bit cursory at times, for example, in its handling of
political issues that might have contextualized the ideas of
particular military intellectuals. In addition, Linn covers most of
the nineteenth century in a single chapter, jumps within a couple of
pages from campaigns in the Philippines to the invasion of Mexico in
1914 to the post-World War I period, then skips World War II
altogether in moving from the interwar period to the post-1945 "atomic
war" army. One wonders if some attention to wartime adjustments in
policy or plans for peacetime army roles might have strengthened the
argument, particularly in the case of the Civil War and World War II.
But there is much here to ponder and the theoretical framework is so
innovative that one senses the book may launch a whole shelf of
more detailed and specialized studies. And, too, this forcefully
argued book is a delight to read--a model of the historical craft in
its argumentation and use of evidence. It is sure to be welcomed as a
significant interpretative text in military history.
Virginia Wesleyan College
dmargolies@vwc.edu
|