Reflection on Reconsidering the American Way of War: US Military Practice from The Revolution to Afghanistan by Antulio J. Echeverria II

               Echeverria’s book is an analysis of American military history in two parts, one that is theoretical and another that is based on the practice of American warfare throughout history. To be completely honest the first section went over my head. It contained many referenced I couldn’t keep straight about who agreed and disagreed with who about various military theories. The second part, on the other hand, I was much more comfortable with, as it goes chronologically through American martial history.

               What is cool is that Echeverria uses each war to discuss the theories of war and how different approaches can result in different advantages or drawbacks. For example, the “indirect approach,” in which an army attacks weak points first, working their way up to the stronger points, was tried by President James Polk in the Mexican American War. Echeverria points out three vulnerabilities: first is that it is difficult to measure an enemy’s will to resist, second is that applying pressure in stages will give one’s opponent the ability to buy time, and third is that if your opponent is internally divided/dysfunctional, they will not be able to agree to peace or ceasefire. I think that the indirect approach is superior, as it is always better to attack a weak point than a strong one, but it is not nearly as decisive. A military can only afford to take the indirect approach when they have a lot of time. Another example of the indirect approach was the Anaconda Plan, developed by Mexican American War hero Winfield Scott for the Civil War, in which the Union surrounded the South navally and went down the Mississippi. It was amended by Lincoln to balance it with a direct attack on Richmond, which ended up not happening due to General McClellan’s choices in the theater.

               In the Civil War, the South followed the same defensive strategy as that of the Continental Army against the British in the Revolutionary War, which is exhaustion. They attempted to “break the North’s will to fight by making any incursion as costly as possible.” The North chose attrition against the South, also going for a longer war by trying to out-produce the South over a long period. After the indecisive First Battle of Bull Run, both sides had adjusted to fight a long war. The South, however, was not prepared logistically to do so and underestimated Northern will to continue. An additional logistical issue the South faced besides the usually discussed ones (which for me are the lack of rail lines, textile mills, armories, and other industrial centers) was the geography of the South, especially the Appalachian Mountains. Being surrounded by the Northern “Anaconda Plan,” the typical response for a defender would be to make use of the shorter internal lines of transport and communication. However, the Appalachians cut off the coast from the interior, and without many railroads (many of which that did exist having non-standardized gauges) the South was doomed to failure.

               By WWII, the United States had developed maneuver warfare, “placing a premium on mobility,” but often leaving gaps or flanks open to attack. In the Korean War, this strategy placed the Americans in danger against Chinese and North Korean envelopment tactics that led to attacks in the American rear. Part of this is due to the hilly geography of Korea, making it more difficult to move around. Maneuver warfare remains the Marine Corps guiding strategy. I find it interesting that there is a really long trend of indirect approaches in the history of American warfare. I am not seeing a lot of examples of the USA going all out in a quick attack except for the Second Gulf War in 1991.

               From Vietnam onwards the United States has tried to toe the line between doing enough and not doing too much. The goal in Vietnam and up to modern day has been to deliver force in a “measured, limited, controlled, an deliberate way,” to quote Robert MacNamara, LBJ’s Secretary of Defense. While the United States has largely been successful in doing this, it now relies on coalitions of allies due to the shrunken size of its forces. While the USA could increase the size of its military, it is unlikely to do so without a massive outside threat. For now, the USA prefers to fight limited wars of protection of US assets and power projection on the borders of its sphere of influence.

               I’ll conclude with three more observations. The first is a criticism of the book, I guess, in that the author thinks that it is really important to call war either an art or a science or some combination of both. I don’t understand why that is important. It seems like the significant majority of scholars and veterans call it and art but that there are many who emphasize the scientific aspects of it. Who cares? To me, it’s a competition between two or more forces, and I think that the art/science dilemma does not help us to understand it and better. The other observation is that I totally agree with a point made in the conclusion of the book which is that the major center of gravity for warfighting in the USA is the president. I think that this is true for all of US history but more now, when the president has massive powers to execute war. The personalities and decisions of US presidents are definitely a key aspect in how America chooses to execute its wars, so while we can say that American war practice may be mostly indirect and attritional, those may just be the bounds within which presidents can move and push against. Finally, the author points out that “In practice, American military personnel have been intimately involved in achieving policy aims. American military theory and doctrine would do well to catch up to American military practice.” This brings up an interesting dilemma. One of the most sacred distinctions in American politics is the civil control of the military and military absence from politics. However, with our military being used as a tool of politics and policy, should we not involve generals more in decision-making processes? To be successful in war, it helps for the generals to have greater power, as Julius Caesar, Napoleon, and Alexander were all not just generals but heads of government and state as well. I think that combining the military know-how of a general and the authority of a head of government/state is a potent combination, but in America we have to ask if we are willing to trade out political norms for the greater military might, and I don’t think so.