Just-in-time suggests that forces need no longer be massed prior to attack. When mass is needed for offensive or defensive purposes, it need take place only at the point of impact. Large formations of ships, planes or armor can give way to staggered scheduling and positioning that presents no discernible pattern to an adversary. Not being able to sense where the attack is coming from - because it could come from everywhere at any time - takes away the other side's initiatives. Putting the adversary on the defensive, reactive mode simplifies our problem and complicates his. It implies synchronising, planning, scheduling, ordering and delivering military operations as needed to meet currently emerging demands.6
A Western Way of War
This could be a prospectus for war that could pass muster at the Harvard Business School. It offers the efficient use of resources, based on splendid information, productive use of capital to get the best out of labour, and the contraction of distance. It also fits in with some long-standing Western preferences that have continually been reasserted during the twentieth century's encounter with 'total war'.
In the aftermath of the carnage of the First World War, military theorists such as Basil Liddell Hart attempted to develop an alternative approach to warfare. Liddell Hart wanted to limit the UK's liabilities to its allies, and its demands on its enemies, in the hope that this could prevent total war and mass slaughter. His model war would be fought by professional armies and based on manoeuvre more than attrition. Although he looked to new types of weapons, in particular the tank, to provide for fast-moving and decisive campaigns, Liddell Hart's claim was not so much that he was defining the way of the future, but reasserting constant principles of strategy (the 'indirect approach' intended to avoid the bloodiest encounters) and a long-established British way in warfare - designed to limit the UK's liabilities - from which the country had foolishly deviated in 1914-18.7
Yet the Second World War was even more 'total' than the First, In a book completed just after the Japanese surrender entitled The Revolution in Warfare, Liddell Hart saw no reason to change his mind on the folly of conceiving of war in terms of unlimited aims and unlimited methods, but acknowledged that the combination of the atomic bomb with aircraft and missiles able to bridge the gap between fighting zone and hinterland meant that, in practice, war was changing 'from a fight to a process of destruction'.8
The effort to reverse this tendency, so that war can again become a fight, is the core theme of much of the strategic theory of the past quarter-century, even in the nuclear sphere. The RMA represents the culmination of these efforts. It is important to recognise, however, that these efforts reflect Western, and more particularly US, aspirations which may not necessarily be shared by others. The rest of this chapter describes the key features of the developing Western Way of Warfare.
Professionalism of Armed Forces
The professionalisation of their armed forces has not figured prominently in the current debate over the RMA in the UK and the US because both countries moved away from conscript armies some time ago. The stress on high-quality weaponry has reduced the relative importance of numbers, while at the same time putting a premium on high-quality troops. Conscripts are no longer needed as 'battle fodder'. Nor can they normally be trained to the level appropriate to modern warfare unless, as in Israel, society as a whole maintains itself at a high level of mobilisation. In addition, training young men and women inadequately to fight in unlikely wars is frustrating and alarming when a demand comes actually to fight. This became apparent to France during the Gulf War of 1991, when a reluctance to use conscripts left the country with remarkably few regular forces actually able to engage in combat.
Intolerance of Casualties
Edward Luttwak has argued the need to reorganise armed forces to cope with a 'post-heroic' age. The expectations and beliefs that sustained a tolerance of casualties in earlier times are no longer present. Low birth-rates and smaller families make losses in combat even more unbearable, while there is a lack of the exaggerated nationalism that could sanction 'thousands of casualties in any minor military affray'.9 All this puts a premium on framing strategies that keep casualties to a minimum. Whether popular attitudes are so fixed on this question is doubtful. It is by no means evident that thousands of casualties were ever tolerable in a minor affray, while for a conflict as serious as the Gulf War, preparations were made to cope with substantial coalition casualties, which fortunately did not arise. Nor is it self-evident that a lower value was put on human life in earlier times. The difference lay in circumstances and expectations. Nonetheless, the US Joint Chiefs of Staff have declared that 'In all cases, US military forces must be able to undertake operations rapidly, with a high probability of success, and with minimal risk of US casualties'.10
Intolerance of Collateral Damage
The view that war is the responsibility of governments and armed forces but not the population at large leads to the presumption that all civilians must be deemed innocent unless proven guilty. This argues for targeting military assets rather than people. This is not only ethically much more acceptable, but also reflects the modern view that human beings are only as effective as the resources and technologies at their command allow. This morality interacts with the trend towards weapons of ever-greater precision, leading some to stress non-lethality, that is weapons that disable and contain rather than kill and that pose minimum long-term harm, either to combatants or to the environment.11
The concept of non-lethality is not in itself new (for example, tear-gas). Agents that temporarily disable or sticky substances that temporarily deny movement have obvious applications in either police or peacekeeping roles, but this is now being extended, almost as a prerequisite for any sort of legitimate force. Referring to the use of non-lethal weapons in Somalia, such as foams used to immobilise hostile civilians, US Colonel Martin Stanton saw these promising 'kinder, gentler operations other than war':
We would like to see the development of nonlethal weapons as proof of our civility and restraint: nonlethal weapons show our reverence for life and our commitment to the use of minimal force.12
The series of developments that are brought together in the RMA have the connecting theme of the separation of the military from the civilian, of combatants from non-combatants, of fire from society, of organised violence from everyday life. As long as armed forces are organised around the Napoleonic belief in victory through decisive battle, it is natural to wish this to be achieved as quickly and as painlessly as possible, with the minimum of damage to civilian life and property. The alternative tendency - the hard battlefield slog, with casualties accumulating, treasury reserves depleted, industry pushed to full stretch and society becoming more fragile - is hardly appealing.
The advocates of strategic airpower arid mechanised warfare after the First World War offered a strategy capable of producing a decisive and relatively pain-free victory. The Second World War demonstrated how exaggerated their claims had been. Further confirmation of the apparent hopelessness of any attempt to contain war within acceptable limits was provided by the arrival of nuclear weapons in 1945. This suggested that the search for a route to a decisive battle was over. If the grim tendency towards total war could not be opposed by preparing to fight a limited war, perhaps it could be countered by making its 'deadly logic' inescapable. Preparing for a war that was likely to end in utter catastrophe pushed the logic to the extremes, so that war's initiation moved out of the realm of rational policy.