A lecture, previously labelled “restricted”, delivered at the Naval War College
on 11 June 1952, in the Global Strategy Discussions. Basic strategy must be determined by a perpetual remembrance that the world is round. Like most other important observations this may be considered obvious, but its realization in the abstract and its application in the concrete are two different things.
Let us take a historical example familiar to all. After the Rush-Bagot Agreement of 1817 Canada had a special strategic re-lationship to the United States. If we were to have a long, virtually undefended border, we must see that Canada never became a base of attack upon us. To guard against such an eventuality Seward, who had reason to regard Britain as the most probable enemy, wished to outflank Canada; he purchased Alaska and desired Greenland. One was to keep Russia from occupying Canada, the other to checkmate Britain. After the diplomatic revolution at the turn of the century by which we drew closer to Britain, Canada stili remained within our defensive perimeter, and we utilized Greenland and Iceland for its protection against Germany. For 134 years the endhas been the same, to prevent its use as a base to attack us. This objective has survived a triple change in our potential enemy from Britain to Germany to Russia.
Take another example: one would have to go far to find greater consistency of strategic conceptions than those which we followed for nearly half a century in the Far East. We announced the policy of the Integrity of China and the Open Door. That basic strategy did not alter at least until the triumph of Mao and the collapse of the nationalists on the mainland. In action the concepts have seen tremendous vicissitudes, but our intent was ex-pressed repeatedly and it remained a steady strategic objective.
Moreover, we refused to recognize changes produced by force: that was fundamental in the Stimson doctrine, which simply made explicit what had long been implicit in our attitude. That position may seem unrealistic, if looked at in short perspective. Its pos-sible validity, in longer perspective, rests upon the historical real-ity that the effects of force are transient. That is evidenced by the fact that peace treaties, which are almost always expressed in terms of perpetuity, have singularly short lives. A recent article quotes a French author to the effect that over a period of three and a half centuries the average life of “permanent” treaties of peace was only two years. Without endorsing the accuracy of the computation, the fact of the transiency of peace agreements must be conceded.
Their lives are not always so brief as that of the Treaty of Sevres between the allies and Turkey at the dose of the first World War; it was replaced by the Treaty of Lausanne at the end of three years. The Treaty of Versailles lasted less than a generation, and many another treaty of “perpetual peace” has shown the same life his-tory. Consequently, the idea expressed in its most extravagant terms by Hitler, who told his men that on their arms rested “the fate of the German nation for the next one thousand years,” is absurd. There have been many similar expressions, not quite so extravagant, but nonetheless ridiculous. Even the triumph of Mao, therefore, does not prove that our Chinese policy, long te-naciously pursued by administrations of both parties, has suffered permanent defeat.
If we are to think clearly about the future, we should em-phasize the relativity of two of the words which are customary in public discussions: security and peace. Fashionable as the word has become, “security” is nonetheless a mirage. Perhaps it would be better to cali it a semantic tent—it covers so much it can mean much, or nothing. It is used in Wall Street to describe certain pieces of paper; it is employed to indicate poise or personal self-confidence; it sometimes means secrecy; it has relationship to fi-nancial well-being; it denotes presumed immunity to attack or abil-ity to repulse it successfully. These are only a random hand-ful from its barrel of meanings. All have one thing in common—they are relative, none is absolute. We have never had national security and never was it in greater danger than when we thought it was virtually attained in the early 20th century, after two Hague peace conferences. Likewise, “peace” has never been perfectly attained and, historically defined, is one of the most un-stable conditions in human experience. The normal condition is neither peace nor war. Certainly, our lives are cast in that type of normality. Whether we tend toward peace or toward war, there are five instruments of strat-egy; and all are potent under every circumstance. They are reason, culture, emotion, economie activity, and force.
At least at the extremes these five are arranged in order from positive to negative. When the emphasis is upon positive and constructive means, we have what is called “peace”; when negative or destructive action is dominant, we have what is called “war.” They are also arranged from the least costly to the costliest in money, in goods, in effort, and in life. Reason costs nothing but mental effort; force is extravagant in every kind of cost including even life itself. When, we can attain strategie ends by reason, costs are low; when we restore to force, the cost mounts toward infinity.
In other words, these are five means to the accomplishment of national policy, which is the object of strategy; they are the instrumentalities by which we seek to attain the national ends. Stated in these oversimplified terms, it would seem that we should be able to tell at any given moment just where we stand between war and peace. The fact is, however, that there are many national policies, and they are pursued with uneven energy and varient wisdom. Among them there are bound to be confusions, inco-herancies, and contradictions. When dealing with allies, as we are today, the sum total of all the national policies of all the countries multiplies incoherencies and contradictions. The upshot is that in some phases of our effort, reason is effettive; that makes for peace. In some other phases, force is in the process of mobilization for use or in actual employment as in Korea; then the tendency is toward war. Both tendencies exist simultaneously in different sectors of interest and action.
Historically, that is why it has always been so difficult to state with any degree of accuracy the causes of any particular war. When, for example, the Nye committee held that “the armament makers” were responsible, it was, to put it charitably, an over-simplification so great as to constitute a gross error. Whenever any other single factor is used as the key, it misstates an enormously complicated problem. This much can be said with absolute certainty, reason is always at work. The most frequently quoted dictum of Clausewitz recognizes that fact, and history amply supports his assertion.
Of all the strategie instruments reason is the only one which always has a positive orientation. It has consistent direction, but it is the reverse direction from reason, for it is essentially negative. Reason and force press toward opposite poles. Reason advances peace: force impairs the chance of peace. Reason, though always present, sometimes operates in an atmosphere so laden with fear and other emotions, or so saturated by the sense of power or by the sense of weakness, that it has too little opportunity to function. That is true of our relationship with Russia to-day. It often seems impossible to reason with the communists; their major premise is different, their minor premise is dfferent, and therefore the two arguments do not meet. Reason has rela-tively slight scope for effectiveness.
It must be conceded that, even apart from Russia, the pres-ent world mood is not conducive to the effective use of reason. No one would ever be tempted to call this the “age of reason.” It is the age of many other things, but nearly everywhere reason sells at a disastrous discount. The intransigence of Russia is, in a sense, only a symptom of a world-wide retreat from faith in reason. The economie determinism which dominated much of the first half of this century; many views of sociologists and social psychologists and social philosophers; the vogue of Freud, whose work has been well described as “opposition to rationalism” these and numerous other factors account for the antirationalism of our day. We ought to recognize frankly that an age in retreat from reason is not likely to produce diplomats of classical proportions. When one reads recent books on American policy, he cannot help but be impressed with the fact that the use of reason is not given a primary position.
It is well to recall that many a war which was lost on the battlefield has been won in the conference room; the most brilliant historical illustration was the manner in which Talleyrand saved France from the normal and expected consequences of the defeat of Napoleon. If we are ever to gain even an approximation of peace, the importance of reason as an instrument of strategy must be more fully appreciated.
The second of the five instruments of strategy is culture. Every nation has a culture of its own, which at once reflects and shapes its dominant characteristics. It is relatively easy to change political forms and develop new economie activities, but culture is deeply imbedded in the life of a people. It is almost impossible to make fundamental changes rapidly in that area of life. Therefore when you think of dealing with people, you have to think in terms not alone of force and economie activity, but of their emo-tional setting and cultural pattern. To be irritated when they do not respond to a stimulus in the same way we do is folly.
Culture is an instrument available for use both positively and negatively. It does not have a fixed direction as do reason and force. Our cultural history and its relationship to Britain have now a powerful effect in holding the two countries in alignment. Common language, traditions, and literature are extraordinarily strong unifying influences. Similarly, the basic differences between Russian culture and that of the West made understanding difficult long before the Bolsheviks gained control. Kipling’s admonition, “Make ye no truce with Adam-zad—the Bear that walks like a Man!” long antedates the Revolution. In like manner, it takes a vast effort of imagination to see in Chinese culture any resem-blance to a structure of values coherent with our own.
In modern times the negative aspects of culture have been accentuated by propaganda. The cacophony of voices over the in-ternational radio is a manifestation of the enormous importance which it has assumed in the grand strategy of war and peace. Na-tionalism is heightened by cultural self-consciousness and, when nationalistic characteristics become dominant, strained and fan-tastic distortions appear, such as we have seen in Iran under Mossadegh.
Peace is advanced by the realization of the full potentialities of those aspects of culture which tend to unite men and give them a sense of human brotherhood. This is possible even if the custom-ary expressions are different from our own. We have certain con-cepts of the tonal scale which are quite different from those of the Far East; we hiss in derision and they in pleasure; we wail in sor-row and they in glee. These are trivial illustrations of the pro-found reality that cultural habits may differ, and yet the emotional and intellectual realities may be the same. To be put off by things which merely seem to us strange is to be provincia] in a world that calls for global strategy. Cultural charity and appreciation mean that, without giving up our own structure of intellectual and es-thetic values, we nonetheless do not insist upon imposing them upon others. Negative diversions of the channels of this deep-flowing human intercourse led to war.
The third available strategic instrument is emotion. We perceive truth, not only logically, but appreciatively. Emotion, properly conceived, is a normal complement of reason; only when one’s condition is pathological are emotion and reason set against each other. Employed positively, emotion exhibits amazing pow-ers of attachment; used negatively, it is one of the most divisive forces known to mankind. For many years, because we had fought Britain in the War for Independence and the War of 1812, the United States continued to look upon it as “the” enemy long after the substantive basis for tension was largely gone. In other words, historical emotion had the striking effect of perpetuating a sense of hostility though the foundation for that hostility had disappeared.
This should be a reminder that it is naive to suppose that nations always follow their true interests. Emotion often blinds judgement. It was never the true interest of Germany to challenge both the East and the West. It was never the true interest of Japan to pursue the policies which goaded us to war. We have, therefore, to be critical occasionally of our own policy, lest we pass upon our true interests. We have to face decisions in terms of fundamental interest rather than mere tactical dispositions, which are often suggested by pique, ambition, or emotional misreading of basic interests.
Like culture, emotion has both positive and negative poten-tialities. Propaganda exploits all that science has learned about the emotions in order to unite one people and to divide them from others. Studies of the uses that Russia has made of propaganda for the consolidation of its monolithic domestic power show count-less efforts to play upon emotion, some of them extraordinarily successful. We used an emotional appeal to Latin America with our “good neighbor” policy. Many other illustrations, both positive and negative, will occur to anyone who gìves the matter a few moments of reflective thought.
The fourth strategic implement is economic; like culture and emotion it also has potentialities for positive or negative employ-ment. Used positively, economic strength is the support of the free world. It is that which led General Eisenhower on his fare-well trip to say that “economie strength” is second only to “spiritual strength” and one of the “important (factors) for all the others in the free world.” “Without economic strength you can neither maintain a real spirit of morale nor preserve military strength. I might observe that to every British citizen the soundness of the American economy is just as important as any amount of force we can develop in the military field.”
But economic power can have an equally strong negative effect. After the first World War economie “sanctions” were regarded as the principal instrument for the enforcement of the de-cisions of the League of Nations. They did not live up to expectations, and fortunately that lack of success dimmed the mis-taken faith in economie determinism which had remained domi-nant for some years.
Nonetheless economie sanctions are a very powerful leverage indeed and one which we are intent upon employing against the Russians. The other day I heard a group of French journalists refer to our pressure against trading with the East as the “American Iron Curtain.” Without admitting the fairness of that charac-terization, we are all well aware that economie leverage can exert great pressure upon both friend and foe.
Congress has been ready to use it with considerable harshness. That tendency heightens some of our present problems. In several Western European nation’s unemployment causes acute po-litical repercussions, which native communists exploit. To ease un-employment there is a desire for trade with Eastern Europe an old and “normal” pattern. Russia emphasizes our “inconsistency” in simultaneously calling for lower trade barriers and legislating new ones; it steals our thunder by clamoring for the elimination of trade restrictions and by talking about big East-West barter deals.
That was done in dramatic style at the recent Moscow economic conference. Russian propaganda more than hints that American policy has for one of it aims the maintenance of economie hegemony over Western Europe. So tempting are its offers and so galling to European nations is dependence upon America (especially when accompanied by irritating legislative restrictions) that an acute crisis may develop.
In order to exploit our economie strength positively it is essential to remember that leadership must above all else abandon egocentricity. A leader without followers is a contradiction of terms; a leader with reluctant and resentful followers is no real leader at all. To drag nations behind us is a form of unconscious economie imperialism. We cannot simultaneously follow an im-perialist and an anti-imperialistic course; we must walk the nar-row path between them. Nothing is more evident than that we have not been suffleiently wary or steady in that effort.
Moreover, it is necessary to remember that, unless economie strength and economie stability are maintained, inflation can sap away whatever “situations of strength” might be gained by re-armament. There can be no question that the danger is great. Un balanced national budgets cannot be compensated by an increase in production alone. Indeed, too rapid increase in production with unbalanced budgets could increase the dangers when armaments level off. Nor is taxation a sovereign remedy, for there are limits to taxation; the precise limits are not determined, but it seems likely that Britain has already passed the point of absorbing too much of the national product and we appear to be approaching that practicable limit ourselves.
So, despite our wealth and enormous productivity, there are world-wide doubts of our economie stability among both friend and foe. The sense that our dominaht economy is unstable leads our allies to be fearful lest a collapse here carry them all down in ruin. On the other hand, it is as clear as daylight that the Marshall Plan and the Mutual Security program have been great constructive forces in maintaining the balance of power since the hostility of Russia became an established fact in current international relations.
We have to recognize also that the vast wealth of the United States, while it has accomplished much through the Marshall Plan, as it did through Lend-Lease during the war, nonetheless makes us objects of envy, one of the most corrosive of all emotions. It also makes us the object of suspicion; there is always a feeling on the part of the “have nots” that the “haves” got their wealth by methods which were shady, if not downright immoral.
This sort of suspicion is heightened because the United States is the only great power that is regarded as a full manifestation of capitalism. Socialism in some degree or other is characteristic of most European economies. As a nation we are intensely suspicious of socialism; the word is often used in this country as an epithet; in the same way capitalism is employed as an epithet by many Europeans. Such facts make mutuai understanding all the more difficult. Under all these circumstances we must walk warily as we employ our potent economie power as an instrument for the at-tainment of strategie objectives.
The last, and admittedly indispensable, instrument of strategy is force. Strangely enough, it can be fairly judged most successfully in advancing the national aims when it is not necessary to use it actively. I have heard that point of view urged more often by members of the Armed Forces than by civilians.
Wisely employed as a potential support of political action, force though costly is not destructive. Once it becomes necessary to make it the major instrument and to employ it actively, it tends to become an end in itself. It is so dramatic, its effects are so apparent, that it is easy to succumb to the phrase so often heard nowadays in talking about Korea, “nothing counts but force.” Once that mood takes possession, force is certain to overreach its strategie objectives. Many a nation has burned a house to roast a pig. When that happens, the means have become more important than the ends. New problems are created which are more difficult to solve than the old.
In addition, the employment of force multiples almost in-finitely the disastrous negative effect of economie power. In the first piace, a special type of unemployment is artificially created; many men are taken out of productive employment, their work habits disorganized, their skills blunted, their capacity for normal adjustment dislocated, and the whole rhythm of their lives al-tered. In the second piace, enormous productive capacities are destroyed, impoverishing the producing capacity of the world to a shocking degree. In the third piace, many producing plants which survive are retooled to make munitions rather than articles of Pesce.
Retooling takes a long time, even under the urgent pressures of rearmament and with government subsidies and rather negli-gent treatment of cost. But when the time comes to reverse the process and retool for peace, there is not the same urgency for speed; moreover, it has to be done effectively and economically, else it could lead to bankruptcy. While reconversion proceeds the specter of mass unemployment haunts us.
Furthermore, the use of force inevitably closes the normal lanes of trade and leads to the introduction of synthetics and sub-stitutes. At the close of the forceful episode, the world faces a dilemma: whether to go back to the originai sources of supply and let the production of the synthetic go to waste or continue to manufacture the substitute and thus destroy historic trade routes. Whichever program is followed, and usually both are followed in some degree, it proves costly and wasteful. Finally, the land and its resources may be set back as much as 25 years after it has been fought over. In other words, the use of force doubles the disaster of economie warfare.
Force, as I indicated originally, has only one direction: it is always negative; its logic can never be constructive. It is necessary to use force sometimes in order to bring the enemy to the point where he will listen to reason but force itself contributes nothing to reasonableness at the end of the war. It must be said, therefore, that it is at best a crude instrument with which to fashion and refashion civilization.
The point can be stated even more strongly: the use of force brings a certain irrationality into conclusions; for, when force is applied most violently, it amounts to a reversal of the moral order and tends toward a proclamation that “might makes right.” The Russian participation in the victory of the last war has had a baleful effect on the structure of the post-war world. Russia’s present influence is all out of scale to its wisdom, its sincerity, or other qualities which normally would have great weight. Reason it eschews, even while using a dialectic that apes the rational process. Culture and emotion it exploits positively at home, nega-tively abroad. At home it defies the laws of economics, and en-slaves its satellites. Force is its dominant method at home and abroad. That is why the danger of war is so great.
By way of review, the basic factors are four.
First is the perpetual memory, in action as in word, that the world is round, that pressure applied at one point is felt at every other.
Second, fluidity and change are the rule of international relations and there must be, therefore, flexibility of mind in tactical dispositions—diplomatic as well as military.
Third, ideological consistency is even more essential to a democracy than to a dictatorship; the strategy of the United States is basically conditioned by the great affirmation of the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal.”
Finally, the instrumentalities of strategy—reason, culture, emotion, economics, and force — are omnipresent in peace and war and the twilight land between the two wherein we now live. Skill in their effective employment, each in its proper pro-portion for every given situation, is the measure of proficiency in the achievement of our strategic objectives.
Autore: Henry M. Wriston
Fonte: Naval War College Review, September 1952, Vol. 5, No. 1 (September 1952), pp. 31-60
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