Let me finish the story where I began, in Afghanistan. Returning from Kabul and, in January 2008, debriefing special advisors, officials and senior officers in No. 10 and Whitehall was a sobering experience. The content of my message was simple: there was no overarching strategy to guide the campaign; we needed one and this is what it could look like.
But my message fell on deaf ears and for two reasons. First, some felt I was wrong about the lack of strategy and pointed out the error of my ways by referring me to 'our strategy'. They were referring to, of course, a British strategy not a coalition strategy. To me the idea of a British strategy seemed then -- and seems now -- nonsensical. How was a British strategy, focused largely on directing a relatively small British deployment, in overall coalition terms, to just one of Afghanistan's thirty-four provinces going to make up for the lack of an overall campaign strategy? Second, I had not recognized that, because British forces were in Helmand Province, the minds of British politicians, senior officers, officials, opinion-formers and the press had become fixated there too. I had failed, in other words, to complete the first step in my Strategic Estimate and understand properly the peculiar political context to which I was returning. Having done my best to bring the key strategic message back, I watched the raging debates about the tactical issues such as equipment and the number of boots on the ground with much private frustration. But the positive outcome was a reinforcement in my mind of the need for new thinking on making strategy. This book is, in part, a consequence of that frustration and of that reinforcement.
As I write now, Afghanistan and Iraq are still playing out, arguably two individual campaigns of a more complex political contest where international terrorism, inspired by extremist Islam, is both a symptom and a tactic. Elsewhere, contemporary developments in North Korea, Iran, Pakistan, Georgia and Gaza give pause for thought. Layered over all this is an unprecedented economic crisis. Within this crisis, we see signs that our Western order, perhaps ultimately founded on affluence, may not be as secure as we had assumed. And ultimately the long-term iceberg out there for our Titanic of international politics looks to be global warming. The new international context looks volatile and history may yet have more mileage than Fukuyama predicted. All of this gives me reason to be cautious about our strategic future. We would surely do well to place a premium on our ability to create and, if necessary, execute superior strategy.
I have defined politico-military strategy as a rational course of action that uses state power to achieve a political object in the face of violent opposition. And I have outlined some of the key features present in superior strategy: a clear statement of political purpose, a coherent organizing concept, a sense of seizing the initiative, a capacity to bind key actors, and so on. But ultimately, when you seek out a piece of real strategy, to see what it looks, feels and smells like, you find something that is inherently organic in nature; something that lives. It is, to use my earlier phrase, 'the ideas, judgments and decisions of men and women, set out in a coherent and a communicable form which, in broad terms, answers the critical question: "How are we going to do this?"'
And when all is said and done, what seems to determine the quality of your strategy making and strategic performance is the quality of your people. Superior strategy making is all about clear strategic thinking and decisive strategic leadership. The key is to have people capable of both. In the medium-to-long term, the trick is thus to identify such people and work ruthlessly to get them into the right places. National leaders and politicians who fail to do this will have to accept the blame for future politico-military failures.
I think we can also do better in the short term. Here the responsibility for improvement lies in the hands of those who create and execute strategy now, be they politicians, diplomats, officials or military officers. The simple solution is self-education. Strategic leaders and strategists must work to understand strategy making in theory and they must work to apply rigour when strategy making in practice -- for those vested with the power to commit military forces to armed conflict and war, this responsibility is not formal but is fundamental.
To help bring more understanding and rigour to our strategy making, I have tried here to bring back into contemporary consciousness and distil the thinking of distinguished theorists and practitioners past. I have also set out complementary ideas based on corporate theory, military doctrine, personal insight and arguments from first principles. But, whether or not I have enhanced our body of knowledge, strategy making will never be easy. And with matters of high politics and war and with people's lives, at stake it feels right that it is not. But it also feels right to suggest that, when we choose to use armed force, our thinking to underpin operations should be as rigorous as humanly possible.
What then are the key lessons herein for strategy makers who wish to add rigour? They emerge naturally from the main structure of our analysis of strategy making in history, theory and practice.
Two lessons from the history of strategy sit above the individual insights. First, we must recognize the cumulative influence that historical ideas exert on our thinking today, often in ways more subliminal than conscious. This leads us to the second lesson. Those who are -- or aspire to be -- strategy makers must know and understand this body of thought. Part II provides an introduction, but it is not a substitute for further study, at least not for those of conscience.
Two further lessons emerge from the theory of politico-military strategy making. First, if we choose to use state power, including armed force, to achieve a political object, then the rational way for us to do so is to create and execute a superior strategy. We are more likely to create superior strategy with a rigorous approach, for example using the frameworks and tools of Part III -- but noting that these are aids, not substitutes, for hard thinking. This leads us to the second lesson, which draws on the Strategic Estimate. If we want to make superior strategy, we need to start our strategy making by answering two key questions: 'What is the political issue at contest?' and, 'What is the desired political object?' In other words, before we make a decision to fight, we must know what we will be fighting about and we must know what we want to achieve by fighting.
Two final lessons emerge in Part IV from the practice of strategy making. First, because of war's irrational nature, no matter how much rigour we use when we make strategy, events are unlikely to unfold as we envisage: 'No plan survives contact with the enemy.' Because of this, the very way we think will need to vary in different stages in our strategy making. A more prescriptive approach will be better as we create the strategy. A more reflective approach will be better as we execute the strategy. But these different ways of thinking are complementary, not alternatives. Second, sad to say, but processes matter. The principles I have proposed for a politico-military school of strategy making can help codify these processes. Through the act of codification, states and institutions can start to judge if their strategy making processes work and, if necessary, make changes. Improved processes will be no substitute for good people but, without improvement, the danger is that strategy making will remain a disorganized, undisciplined intellectual activity.
The bottom line lesson, probably more important than all others is that ultimately, it's all about people. Poor strategy is the result of errors of thinking. And people are the source of the thinking. So, if an operation or war is going badly, we need to look critically not only at our strategy but also at our senior people, political, diplomatic, civil and military and decide whether the source of the problem is broader than the strategy and, if necessary, be ruthless in making changes.
It will be interesting, in time, to see how history judges the strategies, the strategy making and the strategy makers of the modern campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq. How will results measure up against our three tests of superior strategy: effectiveness, efficiency and durability of result? I suspect that, in the sober light of historical analysis, pluses and minuses will emerge. The school report of history may record areas where we 'could do better'. Certainly as a participant I would feel honour bound to examine a 'could do better' charge. But this book is not about salving a conscience. Rather it is an attempt to explore the question: if superior strategy is key to success in the great strategic endeavours of our time, how could we do better? As such the recent past should be of interest to us not for apportioning blame but rather as a source of insights to allow us to 'do better', to create and execute more effective strategy in the future. And we need to be prompt in learning these lessons because today's strategic leaders and strategists have work to do.
What we sometimes forget about strategy is that not only does it matter -- but very often it matters now. When we get it wrong, we may fail to achieve critical political objectives. Precious and sometimes irreplaceable resources may be squandered. And too many will pay in blood. So I hope that scholars will forgive the flaws and roughness herein. Some of the theory feels raw and must be challenged. But for now my colleagues at the strategic level and their agents in the tactical field, are the ones who need our help, those people whose faces are marred by the dust and sweat and blood of the strategic arena.
Some say making strategy is easy. I simply do not agree. Nor does history. If it were easy, surely we would always be successful? Surely the campaigns in the Balkans, Somalia, Afghanistan and Iraq would have played out as their designers intended? Rather, as I said at the outset, strategy making is problem-solving of the most complex order because it deals with three of life's great imponderables, people, war and the future. But this does not mean that it is not susceptible to hard thinking. Indeed the historical record seems to shows that hard thinking by talented people is the cornerstone of strategic success. But, to better focus our hard thinking, we will need to turn strategy making into something other than Admiral Wylie's 'disorganized, undisciplined activity'. And if the theory presented in this book helps those creating and executing strategy do so in a more organized and disciplined way, my work will be done.
This is an extract from Commodore Steven Jermy's new book, Strategy for Action: Using Force Wisely in the 21st Century. If you liked it, why not buy the book from Amazon or any major book retailer.
About the Author
This article is an extract from Commodore Steven Jermy RN's new book, Strategy For Action: Using Force Wisely in the 21st Century. Find out more by visiting http://www.knightstone-publishing.co.uk/books/strategyforaction.html
