sociologist Raymond Aron. He claimed persuasively that ‘Strategic thought draws its
inspiration each century, or rather at each moment of history, from the problems which
events themselves pose’ (Aron, 1970: 25). Consistent with, and obedient to, the general
theory of war supplied in On War, the past two centuries have yielded a multitude of
particular problems that demanded more or less innovative responses in strategic thought.
Bernard Brodie stated the matter with a directness, and from a wealth of personal
experience, that forecloses on the possibility of misunderstanding:
Strategic thinking, or ‘theory’ if one prefers, is nothing if not pragmatic. Strategy is
a ‘how to do it’ study, a guide to accomplishing something and doing it efficiently.
As in many other branches of politics, the question that matters in strategy is: will
the idea work? More important, will it be likely to work under the special circum-
stances under which it will next be tested?
(Brodie, 1973: 452)Soldiers and statesmen should be so educated by Clausewitz’s general theory of war that
they understand how war must serve politics, as well as how the nature of war can
frustrate strategic intentions. But, well educated or not in such general theory, every
generation of soldiers and policy-makers has had to find solutions – practical solutions,
that is – to the problems of the day to which Aron and Brodie refer. The strategic think-
ing that is nearly always in demand has the character specified by Brodie. Officials,
military and civilian, are in need of strategic answers that work well enough. The whole
of strategic history shows a common hunt for the strategic ideas that should solve or
alleviate the strategic problems of the day. In time of war, the need is urgent; and the
pace of experiment and willingness to take large risks with innovative equipment and
ideas for its employment are greatly accelerated. The popular belief that militaries
are hidebound and so conservative that in peacetime they resist change and only feel
comfortable preparing for the last war is, by and large, a serious fallacy. The evidence of
bold peacetime military innovation is overwhelming (Rosen, 1991). The challenge
in peacetime is to guess just how well or poorly novel ideas on tactics and new equip-
ment, and their meaning for operations, will perform in the only test that counts, on the
battlefield. Until experience of combat provides education, one is strictly in the realm of
speculative theory. Soldiers know that they themselves will be testing the new ideas and
machines under fire, and that their performance in combat could well translate into
victory or defeat for the country they are sworn to serve. It is hardly surprising, therefore,
that unproven devices and strange notions should be regarded with healthy scepticism by
their prospective users.
Both Aron and Brodie are devotees of Clausewitzian theory, but the strategic thinking
to which they referred in the quotations above was not the kind of thought that they
admire so much in On War, at least not directly (Aron, 19 8 3; Brodie, 1976). Policy-
makers and soldiers do not demand strategic philosophy, vital though that is to their
intellectual preparation. Instead, they demand pragmatic answers to such questions as:
what are the strategic implications of railways? What is the strategic meaning of steam
propulsion and screw propellers for warships? In the face of far more lethal small arms
and automatic weapons, how can infantry cross ‘the killing ground’? Indeed, can soldiers
still take the offensive in the teeth of modern firepower? What is the strategic promise in
Clausewitz and the theory of war 17