Reflections on Clausewitz, Book II, Chapters 5 & 6: History and Criticism

Chapter 5: Criticism

It is through criticism that abstract principles touch upon real life; it is here that theory meets factual reality.

There are three forms of criticism.  First is the historical investigation of doubtful facts; inquiry.  The second is concerned with connecting effect to cause; this is where critical inquiry occurs.  They third is used to test the means employed; this is what criticism typically means.

Throughout history, but particularly in war, the causes are often difficult to isolate.  Either they were never recorded in the first place, or they were deliberately obfuscated because the actor was using deception.  Thus critical inquiry will often be accompanied by historical investigation.  Historians and strategists must be extremely cautious when positing a connection between cause and effect.

Another difficulty is that events seldom unfold due to a single causative factor.  Apportioning each contributor its due weight becomes necessary.

As for criticism of a means, what are the causes which affected it?  And was the operator aware of this?  A good plan applied in the wrong circumstances is a problem with the operator, not with the plan itself.

Examining all of the known details, and delineating all of the unknown details, is an impossible task; the conclusion will be just as chaotic as the information that went into it.  To develop a useful conclusion, the historian must adopt a sensible heuristic.  Ultimately, this heuristic will be little more than an educated guess, but without it nothing can be said at all.  The idea of an ur-theory is pedantry; one perfect theory, where every event must simply be placed under its proper Law is impossible.  Any such attempt elevates theory to doctrine.  It becomes self-affirming, and strays even further from the truth.

Sound judgment is crucial.  Exceptions to the theory (“An attack should never be divided, but this one was.”) should be investigated on their own merit rather that prejudicially condemned.

One final point on this analysis (the sort of point which is extremely hard to explain to first order thinkers) is the fact that no effect stops at a final cause.  Rather than a clock, imagine reality as a spider’s web, where pulling on any one strand affects them all.

“The critic… must often appeal to military history, as experience is of more value in the Art of War than all philosophical truth.” In other words – school of hard knocks.  Ivory tower intellectuals can pontificate ‘til the cows come home, but to get anything done in the real world you need to know how they soil feels when your boots are on the ground.

If criticism is to deliver praise or condemnation, it is crucial that the critic put himself into the shoes of the actor in question – or at least, that he make this his object, since truly assuming the subjective perspective of the actor is an impossibility.  Memoirs, testimony of his closest allies and friend, these are crucial in understanding his perspective, but even these will lack the small, seemingly insignificant details which influenced his choices.  Thus, the critic should try and avoid praise and condemnation whenever possible.  Unknown, accidental circumstances can just as often lead to success as failure; these unknown unknowns undermine the presumptions of any emotional narrative.  Even if the accidental circumstances are now known, the question must be asked – what were the assed probabilities of these circumstances at the time?  Ultimately the critic should be looking for genius – not the sum of arithmetic formulas.  The goal is to understand how great generals developed their vision, rather than explain away their actions through simple mechanics.

Remember that all action in war and based upon probable, not certain, results, and that good luck in war assumes a much nobler nature than good luck in play.  We take pleasure in accompanying the fortunate warrior in his career.

All of the preceding is frequently ignored by critics who merely want to make a name for themselves; they are thusly ridiculed by those with field experience.  The proper attitude of the critic is the same as the general; a chain of ideas, plain language, inspiration, and judgement, rather than the application of esoteric formulas from the halls of academia.

Chapter 6: On Examples

Clausewitz concludes his second book with a consideration of historical proofs.  Both their importance, and the difficulty of utilizing them.  Without personal experience in war, the historical facts become meaningless abstractions.  A cannonball moving at a thousand feet per section is a fact lacking the moral and strategic context which only an experienced field commander can derive.

Historical proofs take on four uses for such a man.  First, as an explanation of an idea he’s bringing forward.  Second, they can serve as a generalized example of idea application.  The last two cases are concerned with proofs: third, citing a particular example of that which has worked before, and fourth, collecting a variety of examples to support a particular theory.

It should go without saying that all of these historical proofs can be misapplied; cherry picked or distorted.  For this reason it’s important that the general know history for himself, that he know the competing and irreconcilable theories which different schools advocate, so that he might critically examine the ideas put in front of him.  Otherwise, he will fall sway to charismatic ideologues whose only interest in history is to prove their preconceived assumptions.

Recent history is the most useful, for it is the most detailed, and the most relevant; ancient history gives us nothing but the broad strokes, and many of the numbers are highly suspect (a contention which Dan Carlin of Hardcore History constantly affirms).  There is a great wealth of study when it comes to the relationships between the state and the military in ancient times, but with a dearth of competing narratives, embellishment by the historical writers is a foregone conclusion.  Those who focus solely on the ancient examples when arguing their theories should be considered suspect, perhaps not because of poor intention, but because of the subjectivity which inevitably comes when ancient history arises.

ͼ-Ѻ-ͽ