The Issue of Victory

General Douglas MacArthur is sometimes ridiculed for having said “There is no substitute for victory.” But he was indeed correct. People and states fight to achieve something or to defend themselves. One must not ignore the critical moral effects of the importance of seeking military victory, as well as victory in the war itself, upon the soldiers tasked with obtaining it and the people at home who must labor and suffer in support of the war. One author notes: ‘To ask a man to risk his life and the lives of his men in order to take a hill on the way to ‘victory’ is one thing; to ask him to do so in a conflict where he is constrained from pursuing clear-cut victory is a very different thing.”¹⁸ Peoples fight to win as well. Their support becomes increasingly critical if the war becomes protracted. Losing this can bring defeat just as quickly as losing a battle. Moreover, people do not like to sacrifice if there is no prospect of victory – in battle or in the war itself. Military victory – properly utilized – can deliver political victory. In wars fought for limited political aims it is only possible to achieve a political victory in the absence of military victory when the opponent is weak or naïve. Victory matters.

Why is this important? Victory – and its opposite, defeat – are clarifying.¹⁹ Victory, as French author Raymond Aron reminds us, is only one step on the road to peace.²⁰ Moreover, victory in the war itself – not just on the battlefield – is a political act.²¹ Whether one wins or loses is the critical factor in determining the war’s political effects.²² We must not forget that we should go to war to win – not to lose or achieve a stalemate. Victory costs. Defeat costs more.

How should we define victory? The sixth-century Byzantine general Belisarius said: “The most complete and happy victory is this: to compel one’s enemy to give up his purpose, while suffering no harm oneself.”²³ This is a thought with which Sun Tzu would agree, as his ideal is to “take all under heaven” (preferably intact), and to do so without fighting.²⁴ These are certainly ideal types one should strive to reach, but returning to basic principles is the most practical for our purposes. Victory is achieving the political objective or objectives for which one is fighting, whether these are offensive or defensive, and hopefully at an acceptable cost. Unfortunately, too often since the Korean War US and Western political and military leaders and intellectuals have forgotten that victory matters when one goes to war. Victory – winning – is the point of the war.²⁵

Despite the obviousness of this, the foreign policy and limited war literature is rife with examples of an insistence upon not winning, something that has contributed to our endless wars. A 2006 book notes: “Again and again over a half century, events have belied American statesmen, who believe that victory is an archaic concept, and that military pressure must be carefully graduated to ‘send signals’ for securing specific objectives.”²⁶ The more uninformed discussions even stress the danger of pursuing victory,²⁷ a bizarre insistence that one will not find in the works of those against whom the US has fought wars. If you aren’t trying to win, you’re trying to lose, and you’re killing people while doing so. The enemy wants to win. One hopes that Putin’s actions in Ukraine and Syria after 2014 proved this to Western leaders and intellectuals who think otherwise.

The earliest example of this sentiment I’ve discovered appeared in 1951 during the Korean War. What makes this particularly surprising is that the author, a US Navy Captain, US Naval Academy graduate, and veteran of the Pacific War, was at the time working at the office of the Chief of Naval Operations and had a connection with the National War College. Moreover, his work was published by Proceedings, the official journal of the US Navy. He wrote: “The subject of this essay is an unpopular one: not winning. This is not the same as losing. It means fighting a limited war to a draw. In limited war circumstances, victory can no longer be cast in the traditional mold. We cannot aspire to ‘win’ in the historical sense of annihilating the enemy.” The author failed to realize that, in war, not winning is the same as losing. Nor does he realize that one can indeed decisively defeat (or annihilate) the enemy to achieve limited political aims. He then insists that “[i]n practical terms, it [a limited war] can mean fighting to a draw. It can mean fighting with one hand tied behind our back. It implies indecisive fighting, sparring, uneasy truces with the issues still unresolved.”²⁸ As we’ve seen in the preceding chapters, such problems are generally self-imposed and the result of poor leadership. This author is hardly alone.²⁹

The flawed thinking of the 1950s remains with us. This 2013 example of the depths to which US thinking on war has fallen comes from a veteran of more than two decades in the US foreign service. He not only discounts the idea of “victory,” but also criticizes US leaders for attempting to achieve it. He insists that “studies of American warfare are too ‘victory centric.’” It is better, he essentially insists, while confusing the tactical and the strategic, to lose the war than to try to win it.³⁰

Why do we have common propagation of views that conflict so intensely with the history of human and state behavior? The Cold War is certainly part of the problem, especially its related and not unfounded terror of a nuclear war. The muddled thinking surrounding these fears (which we addressed earlier), produced such advice as: “In limited war ‘winning’ is an inappropriate and dangerous goal, and a state which finds itself close to it should immediately begin to practise restraint.”³¹ Political scientist Robert McClintock wrote that because of nuclear weapons, “The question of military ‘victory’ enters the equation with increasing reservations. The emphasis becomes one of survival. A peace without victory might be tolerable, but a peace without survival would be meaningless.”³² Liddell Hart gave us something similar.³³

The concern is understandable, but these theorists allowed their fears of a possible future to undermine their coherency of thought in regard to their current military challenges. The unintended effect of their flawed theorizing was to infect Western strategic thinking with a fear of victory, one that has continued into the post-Cold War era. Others see here a manifestation of post-modern self-loathing, one driven by fears of being seen as triumphal in regard to one’s own nation and people. In the US one can add to this the fear of being seen as traditionally patriotic. Theorist Edward Luttwak writes: “The West has become comfortably habituated to defeat. Victory is viewed with great suspicion, if not outright hostility. After all, if the right-thinking are to achieve their great aim of abolishing war they must first persuade us that victory is futile or, better still, actually harmful.”³⁴

The most grievous passage I’ve discovered along this line serves as the perfect transition, as it reveals the result of the cumulative intellectual errors in Western limited war theorizing. This author – political scientist John C. Garnett – uses as a starting point an inaccurate critique of General Douglas MacArthur’s views that demonstrates a misunderstanding of the difference between the end sought and the means and methods being used to achieve it. He wrote that MacArthur:

This quote encapsulates the many problems examined earlier in this text: not understanding the reality of war; the confusion of ends and means; not understanding the underlying dominance of the political end being sought; the use of force as “signaling”; the failure to understand that victory matters; all viewed through a nuclear lens that is often irrelevant. The last paragraph explicitly reveals the result of the accumulated bent concepts in our “limited war” ideas: permanent war.

Why Ending a War Matters

We are forced to discuss the seemingly obvious good of bringing a war to an end because Western leaders (and US leaders rank among the worst offenders) no longer understand that wars should end – successfully. If a state is willing to fight a war but not willing to try to win it, what can arise is a state of permanent or protracted war. We have forgotten a basic truth that Alexander the Great attributed to Aristotle: “The ultimate object of war is a stable peace.”³⁶ Similarly, Liddell Hart observed that “no nation engages in war, offensive or defensive, without the idea that it will end in a better state of peace.”³⁷ Generally, both sides want a more secure position than they possessed before the conflict.³⁸

Why do we have permanent wars? And what are the results of this? The first reason these occur we have discussed above: US leaders no longer value or understand victory. Second, the fact that modern, liberal democracies use very small forces generally composed of volunteers means that the conflict directly affects a tiny percentage of the population. This means that the costs of the war are generally born by those most willing to sacrifice and to serve. Public support for these wars is thus easier to preserve. It does not mean that America’s wars are not without political risks for its leaders. George W. Bush’s Republican party was pummeled in the 2006 mid-term elections because of the failures of his administration in Iraq. This gave his Democratic Party political opponents an issue to use against him.

There are also many other unfortunate results arising from permanent and protracted wars. Sun Tzu defined them succinctly and warned of war’s potential to fatally weaken the state: “When your weapons are dulled and your ardor damped, your strength exhausted and treasure spent, neighboring rulers will take advantage of your distress to act. And even though you have wise counsellors, none will be able to lay good plans for the future.” He insisted that “there has never been a protracted war from which a country has benefited.”³⁹

The counterargument, of course, is that you may be a weak power, usually an insurrectionist one, and may need to protract the war in order to win. The Americans in the Revolutionary War, Mao Tse-Tung’s Communists in China’s civil war, and the Vietnamese Communists are three successful examples of this. But all of these powers eventually made peace and waged their wars with clear political objectives in mind.

International relations expert Audrey Kurth Cronin identifies one of the many problems that emerge as wars prolong: “means become ends, tactics become strategy, boundaries are blurred, and the search for a perfect peace replaces reality.” Her example of the Obama administration’s increased use of drones perfectly illustrates this point. President Obama extended his tactical control even further by personally selecting the individuals being targeted for assassination.⁴⁰ This is the Vietnam War’s failed Rolling Thunder bombing campaign redux, a lesser version of McNamara and Johnson picking bombing targets.⁴¹ President Obama noted the problem of perpetual war in a May 23, 2013 speech, and even called for the repeal of the 2001 Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF) under which many post-9/11 US military actions have been conducted. Neither President Obama nor the Republican-controlled Congress made a serious effort to address this issue.⁴²

It is obvious that new thinking is needed on how to end wars and secure the peace, particularly in wars for limited political aims, as they do not generally end with the enemy prostrate. The examination of the complex issues surrounding ending wars for limited aims in the next section is followed by a methodological approach for tackling the problems.

Ending the War: Some Effects of a Failure to Prepare

The ending of a war is something for which combatants almost never plan – even if they are aware of the need to do so. Before attacking the US and Great Britain in December 1941, the Japanese discussed the necessity of ending the war, but never came to a clear answer regarding how. The Japanese military hoped a change in American public opinion would somehow bring an end, but they lacked the strength to force this.⁴⁴ Clausewitz speaks of the importance of this issue, especially when a war is becoming increasingly bloody and intense. The last sentence of the relevant passage is the key one:

The 1990–91 Gulf War shows us what can happen in the endgame when one has not heeded this advice. When the time came to negotiate a ceasefire, Schwarzkopf and Powell discussed having the talks on the deck of the battleship Missouri. “I wanted to make it obvious that this meeting was a surrender ceremony in everything but name,” Schwarzkopf wrote later. But this they ruled out because they had too little time to prepare and bring the delegates from the various nations to a ship in the Gulf.⁴⁶

Instead, Schwarzkopf chose the Iraqi air base at Jalibah, 95 miles inside Iraq, because having it on Iraqi ground symbolized their defeat. It was also easy for the Iraqi delegates to reach. But the site proved too dangerous, because of unexploded ordnance, and Schwarzkopf then chose Iraq’s Safwan airfield near the Kuwait border. Schwarzkopf had ordered the nearby crossroads taken the day before and had been told it had been done, but was then informed the US did not hold the airfield and had no forces nearby. He ordered VII Corps to get to the site. A show of overwhelming American force convinced the Iraqi commander holding Safwan that discretion was the better part of valor, and Schwarzkopf ordered a horde of combat vehicles to be deployed in fighting positions to show the Iraqi representatives what they faced.⁴⁷

The Iraqi delegation chosen to negotiate the ceasefire had problems getting through areas already controlled by the growing rebellion and had to be escorted by Republican Guard tanks. One member of the security detail was wounded on the way. Saddam had instructed them to go to the negotiations “with the feeling and spirit of the victorious.”⁴⁸ The Iraqis were represented by a pair of three-star generals that Schwarzkopf had never heard of. There was concern in Washington about the Iraqi representatives, but it was decided that if Lieutenant General Sultan Hashid Ahmad headed the Iraqi delegation and also held sufficient authority from his government, he was acceptable. Schwarzkopf and Saudi Prince Khalid bin Sultan, the commander of the Arab coalition forces, sat across from the Iraqis. A number of representatives from various coalition nations observed.⁴⁹

Earlier, Powell had had Schwarzkopf work up the terms of the ceasefire. He sent these to Powell, who told him they had to be reviewed by the Departments of Defense and State, as well as the White House. Approval and transmission to the Iraqis via Moscow followed. The terms included: the return of POWs and the remains of those killed in action; the location of Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) sites; a demarcation line between the forces so there were no accidents; and a Saudi request for confirmation of Kuwaiti and Saudi sovereignty and other issues, such as the return of around 3,000 Kuwaiti men whom the Iraqis had taken hostage.⁵⁰

The meeting began at 11am, March 3, 1991. Schwarzkopf orchestrated the scene, and the Iraqis essentially accepted the US terms and a version of what the Saudis wanted. The ceasefire line was the only initial sticking point. This was inside Iraq, and the Iraqi generals only bent on this when they were assured it was temporary and did not mean a change of the borders. At the end, Schwarzkopf asked if the Iraqis had any matters to raise. The Iraqis asked to fly helicopters to move their officials inside Iraq. Schwarzkopf wrote in his memoirs: “It appeared to me a legitimate request. And given that the Iraqis had agreed to all our requests, I didn’t feel it was unreasonable to grant one of theirs.” (One should never feel obligated to grant an enemy’s request.) Ahmad then asked if this included armed helicopters. Schwarzkopf told him it did. This became one of the most controversial issues to come out of the conference, and Schwarzkopf tells us why: “In the following weeks, we discovered what the son of a bitch had really had in mind: using helicopter gunships to suppress rebellions in Basra and other cities.”⁵¹ Schwarzkopf and others later argued that the twenty to twenty-four intact divisions that Saddam possessed in Iraq were more important.⁵²

First – and critically – the Bush administration had no plan for ending the war.⁵³ As we saw above, they discussed it, but did not act on their concern. Second, Schwarzkopf received very little guidance from his political superiors before he went into the ceasefire meetings. He also made very little effort to obtain any.⁵⁴ The following from Schwarzkopf’s memoir is interesting:

Yes. The US had “won” – on the battlefield. But Schwarzkopf forgot that the war was still going on. Negotiations are a part of the struggle. They are not detached from it. Going in unprepared is not helpful. Moreover, dictating terms is not so easy if you are not willing to continue using force or if the leaders of the enemy regime are not particularly sensitive to the effects upon their people and nation of their refusal to agree. It is unfortunate that Schwarzkopf was not aware of this caution from Clausewitz: “To bring a war, or one of its campaigns, to a successful close requires a thorough grasp of national policy. On that level strategy and policy coalesce: the commander-in-chief is simultaneously a statesman.”⁵⁶ Ending the fighting, and ending the war itself, are simultaneously political and military issues.

Conversely, the Russo–Japanese War of 1904–05 offers a rare glimpse of an effort at planning the war’s end. Before launching their struggle, the Japanese decided they would ask the US to mediate its conclusion. They dispatched to Washington Kaneko Kentaro, who had attended Harvard University with President Theodore Roosevelt, with the mission of convincing Roosevelt to negotiate the war’s end at the right time. He had also been sent to cultivate American popular support for Japan.⁵⁷

But even such forethought does not guarantee success. The Japanese pre-war plan to have Roosevelt mediate worked perfectly. But the Japanese negotiating position at the talks to end the Russo–Japanese War was weakened by the fact that they did not continue to make military gains after their victory at Mukden. Very aware of earlier Japanese aggressiveness, Russian officials read the lack of this as a sign of Japanese exhaustion and thus inability to push any further. The Japanese could not keep the Russians from seeing Tokyo’s weakness. Japanese civilians rioted after the terms of the treaty were revealed, as they expected more and were particularly upset by the absence of an indemnity.⁵⁸

In some respects, this nearly universal historical failure to prepare for the end of a war is understandable. The overwhelming pressure of fighting a war inhibits nations from seriously considering how to end it.⁵⁹ Sometimes the policymakers realize that they need to decide how to end the war, but then don’t act on this. In the 1990–91 Gulf War, President Bush pondered this on a number of occasions, noting on January 15, 1990: “I have trouble with how this ends. Say the air attack is devastating and Saddam gets done in by his own people. How do they stop? How do we keep from having overkill?”⁶⁰

There is also the reality that sometimes war is thrust upon you with no chance to plan for its termination before it begins, or you are simply too weak to see a way out. This is especially true for small powers forced to defend themselves from bigger ones. In such cases tough resistance can provide time for the situation to change and open routes out of the conflict. Such was Finland’s case in the face of the 1939 Soviet invasion. Hard fighting preserved Finland’s independence.⁶¹ But this did not mean they got the peace they wanted. In 1940, the Finns journeyed to Moscow hoping to negotiate, but received no choice but to sign – unchanged – a treaty drafted by the Soviets.⁶²

The Decision to End the War: Timing and Negotiations

The decision to end the war is driven by myriad factors, not all of which are necessarily rational.⁶³ If you convey to the enemy your fear that the cost of victory is too high, the enemy can conclude you’re not willing to do what is necessary to stave off defeat.⁶⁴ Related to this is the key issue of whose side time is on in the negotiations. In other words, whom will delay help the most?⁶⁵

In all of this one must be careful to understand the issue of the timing of the end of the war and the inevitable negotiations that will ensue regarding the cessation of combat as well as the war itself. The decision regarding when to open negotiations is exceedingly complex and depends upon innumerable factors being weighed by both sides: military success – or the lack thereof; whether or not one combatant, or both, feels that the moment for talks has arrived; a fear that this moment may pass;⁶⁶ and any other factor related to the current situation.

Critical to the timing of negotiations is awareness of the motivations and conditions of the opponent. One author reminds us that “[i]n an era when limited wars fought to secure limited goals are the norm, a vital component of any strategic vision is a clear idea of the conditions that will cause the enemy to abandon the fight and reluctantly accept a new status quo on our terms.”⁶⁷ Information on this, of course, is often very difficult to obtain, and we should be careful in being overly harsh with criticism of those handed the difficult negotiating task. One should make the utmost effort to try to understand the opponent’s political objectives, ideology, motivations, and the myriad other factors driving their decision to negotiate. One must always ask: why are they here? What do they want? What is their psychological and physical state? Sun Tzu provides us some excellent advice:

Sun Tzu’s comment reveals that negotiations are a weapon.⁶⁹ This is something the Communists always understood, and they used negotiations as a propaganda tool and a sword as early as the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution. During the Korean War, Li Kenong, the leader of the Communist delegation, instructed his colleagues to remember that negotiations were a form of fighting and that they were “political battle.” Li also pointed out that “the truce talks could not be separated for even one second from the situation on the battleground,” and ensured that the Communist negotiators were kept closely apprised regarding the military situation because they could not make truce terms if they did not understand the military situation.⁷⁰ A North Vietnamese general explained their approach in 1965: “Fighting while negotiating is aimed at opening another front, at making the puppet [South Vietnamese] army more disintegrated, at stimulating and developing the enemy’s contradictions and thereby depriving him of propaganda weapons, isolating him further, and making those who misunderstand the Americans clearly see their nature.”⁷¹ When negotiating with the enemy, Saint Augustine suggests something worth remembering here: “it is not that they love peace less, but that they love their kind of peace more.”⁷²

The decision to negotiate is fraught with dangers and problems. Sometimes one must overcome the resistance of one’s own government, people, or military forces to negotiate. During the French–Algerian War, there were secret contacts between French Socialist Party representatives and the Algerian rebels, the FLN. This was not unusual, as other governments, those of Ireland and South Africa for example, had avenues of communication with groups they branded “terrorists.” The French government’s policy was predicated on the belief that when the war ended negotiations would follow, but the government of Guy Mollet and its predecessors wanted to negotiate only from a position of strength.⁷³ Negotiating – even unofficially – with the FLN, though, caused problems for France. When this became public knowledge, it strengthened the leaders of the FLN forces in Algeria, made its Muslim population reticent to support France, and angered French military and political figures striving to win over Algeria’s Muslim inhabitants.⁷⁴ Negotiating in such a situation can forecast weakness, even if one knows that such talks are inevitable. Some may feel betrayed by secret talks, while others have to be brought along. The negotiators, as representatives of the people, and thus their will or opinions, must keep this in mind. This is especially true in liberal democracies, as public opinion can have more effect than in non-democratic states where it is tightly controlled.

Some oppose any negotiations while the fighting continues, and there can be good reasons for this. Leaders may fear this undermines the morale of their forces or encourages their people to lessen their effort, because they believe the war could end soon. The enemy might see weakness in negotiating or offer terms difficult to reject that do not deliver the desired objective. They also might fear tensions with coalition partners over even the idea of negotiating. The Second World War agreement of the Allies to accept only unconditional surrender from members of the Axis coalition was intended to help forestall alliance problems.⁷⁵ One should also consider the role of outside pressure.⁷⁶

The reluctance of the population or the military to support negotiations can be overcome partially by the continual portrayal of this as normal and desired. The Finns constantly negotiated with the Soviets during the 1939–40 Russo–Finnish War, as well as what the Finns call “the Continuation War” of 1941–44. India and Pakistan carried out talks in Tashkent during their 1965 conflict without injuring their war efforts or support from their respective populations. It is not wise to condemn all negotiations when you are fighting a war that will likely be ended by them. Iklé notes that “[t]he very stubbornness with which government leaders sometimes oppose negotiating while fighting induces an adverse reaction at home and among the troops, once talks with the enemy have become unavoidable.”⁷⁷

Public opinion certainly plays a role in negotiating the peace. In the First World War, the French and British governments had promised their people Germany would bear the cost of the struggle. This made their peacemaking efforts more difficult. Public pressure helped drive the US to terminate its struggle in Vietnam. The absence of pressure from public opinion enabled the North Korean and North Vietnamese governments to ignore the suffering of their respective peoples while negotiating.⁷⁸

There are, of course, many approaches to take to negotiations, and whether one is a combatant or a third party seeking to resolve the conflict will influence what you should or should not do. An experienced third-party conflict negotiator once commented that two things can be particularly toxic in negotiations. First, never give or inflict upon the opponent a sense of or the experience of humiliation. Humiliating them can contribute to making the peace unstable. Second, the negotiator insisted, never ask: “What is your solution to the problem?” Patience is important, and linked to this is giving the parties a chance to say everything they believe is important.⁷⁹ The exception to this rule is when it is apparent that the parties are merely stalling for time, or they are simply using the negotiations for propaganda. The Chinese example during the Korean War springs immediately to mind.

One can also certainly wait too long to negotiate a peace. Such was the German situation in the First World War. By the time Berlin decided it could stomach a negotiated settlement, their military and strategic position had deteriorated so much that they had no leverage over their opponents.⁸⁰

Imposing time limits for the length of the negotiations can be worthwhile – particularly if the opponent is obviously stalling – as sometimes this can be useful for bringing matters to an end. Kissinger suggested this as something that might have broken the negotiation stalemate in Korea.⁸¹ French Premier Pierre Mendès-France successfully imposed a time limit on the negotiations for ending the French Indochina War. He took office on June 17, 1954, and promised the resignation of his government if there was no deal reached by July 20, 1954. This worked because Mendès-France prepared for a successor to send more troops to Indochina, and the Vietnamese knew that any government that followed his would be more hawkish.⁸² Former US Senator George Mitchell, when helping negotiate what became known as the 1999 Good Friday Agreement as part of the peace process in Northern Ireland, eventually gave the sides a date by which he needed to end his involvement in the talks.⁸³ But one must be careful doing this. Mitchell had earned the trust of both sides and was a neutral party. When one is directly negotiating and there is no interlocutor, the situation is completely different. A time limit can still be useful as a demonstration of seriousness and a counter to obvious stalling and dishonesty, but it can also be a catalyst or excuse for walking away from the table. Also, what if the other side won’t agree? Can you then unilaterally declare a time limit without suffering the collapse of the negotiations? As in so many instances, the answer is: “It depends.”

The issue of timing of negotiations must be considered from the flipside as well. If you are winning and the operational momentum is on your side and the picture improving, stopping to negotiate might be a bad decision, because it can rob you of the chance to put the enemy into a position where they have no choice but to make peace. The Korean War gives us an excellent example of this.

As we mentioned briefly at the beginning of our story, one of the most contentious decisions of the Korean War was the US agreement to negotiate with the Communist forces in the early summer of 1951. As we’ve seen, the US and UN forces had successfully repulsed the various Chinese offensives, inflicting heavy losses upon their opponents and severely weakening the Communist forces. The operational commander, Lieutenant General James Van Fleet, believed the Communist forces were ripe for destruction, an assessment supported by other high-ranking US officers, such as Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Forrest Sherman, and important commanders in Korea, such as X Corps commander Major General Edward M. Almond, 1st Marine Division head Major General Gerald C. Thomas, and the naval forces chief and later head of the US negotiating team Vice Admiral C. Turner Joy.⁸⁴

Van Fleet saw an opportunity. He believed that combining a land offensive with an amphibious invasion behind the Communist lines at Tongchon, south of Wonsan on the eastern shore of the Korean peninsula, would allow the encirclement and destruction of the retreating Chinese forces. Moreover, it would allow UN forces to establish a defensive line across the narrowest part of the peninsula stretching approximately from Pyongyang to Wonsan. His commander, General Matthew Ridgway, would not allow the operation and restricted Van Fleet to seizure of what the US command designated as the Wyoming and Kansas lines, which lay about 20 miles beyond the 38th parallel.⁸⁵

Ridgway objected for several reasons. First, the offensive went against the guidance he had received from the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) on May 1 because it was beyond the Kansas–Wyoming line limit. This meant he needed to consult the JCS, and that would likely lead to other important administration figures being brought into the process. This would take much effort and time. Second, rumors of an impending ceasefire seemed to make it unnecessary, especially as they might have to give back any ground taken: a slow, steady advance would be sufficient to provide a defensible line during the UN negotiations. Third, the move would stretch some forces too thin, and he believed all of them were tired and needed a rest. Their discussion of the issue ended on May 25.⁸⁶

Van Fleet believed that from May 22 to June 10, 1951 the UN had the opportunity to crush the Chinese forces. “We had him beaten and could have destroyed his armies,” he insisted in a 1953 article. But the US failed to act and thus squandered its immense advantage. After June 10, Van Fleet believed, the Chinese were too well dug in.⁸⁷

Van Fleet was indeed correct about the weakness of his opponent. At the end of May and in early June 1951, their eroding military position began frightening the Chinese. They feared they would be pushed back to the Pyongyang–Wonsan line, and also fretted about another amphibious invasion behind their lines. Mao adopted a strategy of limited attacks and seeking a ceasefire via negotiations. Talks between Kim, Mao, and Stalin ensued during the first two weeks of June, and Stalin gave his permission to seek an armistice. Moreover, by this time the US had stopped its advance and made it clear that its leaders also wanted talks.⁸⁸

Truman first announced his desire to negotiate in an April 11, 1951 radio address.⁸⁹ American diplomat George F. Kennan met with Jacob Malik, the Soviet representative to the United Nations, on Long Island on May 31 and again on June 5. Ridgway was told that negotiations were in the wind.⁹⁰ The first public call for an armistice came from Malik on June 23 and was followed by a statement from Soviet Deputy Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko on June 27. On June 26, Secretary of State Dean Acheson had said before the House Military Affairs Committee that the US “military objectives in Korea would be satisfied if the Communists withdrew north of the 38^th Parallel and gave adequate guarantees against renewal of aggression.”⁹¹ The UN ruled that the US could negotiate an armistice without further UN approval. An agreement was also made to negotiate via the military commanders. The US military leaders were reluctant to take the job, but Truman told them to do so. Ridgway was instructed “that the chief interest of the United States was to end the fighting and to obtain assurances that it would not be renewed.” He was to stick to military matters aimed at doing this, not political matters that dealt with the fate of Korea (this is an important distinction). Truman then authorized Ridgway to broadcast to the Communists that word had been received that the Communists wanted an armistice. Ridgway did so on June 30, telling the Chinese that if they were interested in negotiations for a ceasefire or an armistice, he was willing to begin talks. They replied to Ridgway on July 1, and eventually agreed to meet at Kaesong on July 8.⁹²

Not everyone was happy with this decision. South Korean President Syngman Rhee resisted the talks (he still wanted unification). Van Fleet remembered him saying: “When the truce talks began in July of 1951, he warned they were a trick to save a defeated enemy. That has turned out to be precisely true.”⁹³ The head of the UN armistice delegation, US Vice Admiral C. Turner Joy, had this firmly demonstrated to him on July 12, 1951, when Ridgway forbade the UN delegates to return to the talks at Kaesong until the Communists agreed to honor their commitment to remove military forces from the meeting area and stop interfering with the movements of the delegates. Joy wrote: “Their urgent need for a breathing spell left the Communists no choice except that of acceding to General Ridgway’s just demands for equity at Kaesong.”⁹⁴

There was also resistance in Washington to the US initiating a truce. In a June 28, 1951 meeting, General Hoyt Vandenberg, the Air Force Chief of Staff, opposed Ridgway, sending a message along these lines to the enemy command. Vandenberg said “that the drain of hostilities was now beginning to tell on the Communist forces and that we should in no sense be put in the position of suing for peace at this point or stopping the fighting just when it was beginning to hurt the other side.” The White House supported a truce approach, and the State Department had been working for this diplomatically for a number of months. General Omar Bradley, the JCS chairman, believed that the US public’s support for the war and that of its allies would be weakened by a failure to take what looked like a chance to end the war by not taking up the Soviet proposal. He said that this did not mean the US was suing for peace.⁹⁵

Criticism of the decision to halt and negotiate has been intense: Henry Kissinger, Bernard Brodie, Raymond Aron – all insist this was a mistake.⁹⁶ The Chinese force was certainly ripe for destruction, as Van Fleet insisted. Mao recognized this and wanted a two-month pause (June and July) in order to prepare for the renewal of offensive operations in August. Mao, in a note to Kim Il-Sung, wrote: “If the enemy does not make large-scale amphibious landings in our rear, then our goal can be achieved. If the enemy does not send new reinforcements and does not make an amphibious landing, then in August we will be significantly stronger than now.”⁹⁷

Bernard Brodie observed: “We paid bitterly for that error in the great prolongation of negotiations, in the unsatisfactory terms of settlement, and, above all, in the disillusionment and distaste which [the] American people developed as the main emotional residue of their experience with limited war.”⁹⁸ Moreover, as political scientist Fred Iklé pointed out, “More Americans were killed during the two years of truce negotiations than during the first year of the war before negotiations started. Among all the United Nations forces, fatalities during the negotiating period were about double those suffered previously.”⁹⁹ The US would have benefited from heeding Sun Tzu’s aforementioned advice to be suspicious of your enemy’s motivations for agreeing to talk.¹⁰⁰

The above demonstrated the importance and difficulty of planning for the ending of the war, as well as various issues surrounding negotiations and their timing. The next section puts us on a path toward a better understanding of what to consider when preparing for this difficult task, and gives us some guidance on how to tackle the challenge.

1 What Is Being Sought Politically?

We start here because this is what the war is about, the why of the war. Clausewitz tells us: “The ultimate object is the preservation of one’s own state and the defeat of the enemy’s; again in brief, the intended peace treaty, which will resolve the conflict and result in a common settlement.”¹⁰² Remember the value of the object. The nation has gone to war to defend its threatened interests or to achieve something deemed necessary politically. The war will eventually arrive at a point where one or both sides wish to end it. Ideally, your objective has been achieved. But this is not always the case. It may have become apparent that one cannot achieve it. Perhaps its cost has exceeded its value, or maybe one is facing defeat and needs to end the war. If one combatant does not want an end, they must be convinced to change their mind. Force, threats, and promises are the primary means. Some of these must sometimes be applied to allies because they may have different views about ending the war and the myriad issues involved.

Consultants must not only know their own political objective, they must also have fixed in their mind what victory looks like. Or, in other words, how they believe the post-war situation should appear. The existence of coalitions complicates this, because it can be difficult to have all the “victors” on the same page not only in regard to what the settlement should be, but also in how it should be enforced and maintained. If at all possible, settle your respective war aims before the fighting is over. Things are in flux during the war, and you may have allies different from those when the war began. Plan the peace as well as you planned the war. British and American experts devoted a lot of time in 1942 and 1943 to studying Germany and considering the post-war settlement, but the US did nothing to plan for the end of the 1990–91 Gulf War and its aftermath.¹⁰³

Sometimes it is suggested that one declare victory and leave, and indeed this is an option. But the problem with doing so is that you might fail to achieve or secure your political objective, or you might leave a worse situation both for your interests and in humanitarian terms. For example, on January 2, 1933, the US Marines departed Nicaragua. The US terminated its six-year intervention by declaring that it had left the foundations of a democratic government (which had been determined via elections), and a National Guard force that was non-political and that thus would ensure further elections would also be free. The US had failed to completely eliminate Augusto César Sandino’s guerrillas, but with the onset of “the Great Depression,” the US was in a cost-cutting mindset and simply decided “to declare its intervention to have been successful.” A year later, General Anastasio Somoza, the head of the National Guard, took over Nicaragua and ruled it until his assassination in 1956.¹⁰⁴ On a similar note, after previously rejecting the Versailles Treaty signed with Germany after the First World War, the US Congress unilaterally declared it was at peace with Germany in July 1921.¹⁰⁵

Another element affecting the issue of what to ask for politically is that one’s coalition partners may have different political goals or have no desire to end the war. This complicates the issue for both sides, and you may have to coerce multiple opponents into making peace while also compelling your own allies to agree. One of the factors contributing to the prolongation of the Korean War was that North Korea’s allies and benefactors – Stalin’s Soviet Union and Mao’s China – saw benefit in continuing the struggle. Stalin found the war a cheap distraction for the Americans that also allowed him to keep the Chinese on a tight leash; Mao found it useful for foreign prestige and to get developmental aid from the Soviet Union for modernization of both his civilian and military structures.¹⁰⁶ Stalin’s death likely proved one of the keys to breaking the stalemate in Korea. After a March 18, 1953 resolution, the new Soviet chiefs told Kim Il-Sung that they wanted the war ended. Kim and Mao agreed. It is possible that the war might have soon ended without Stalin’s death, as he had decided to make the necessary concessions to do so before his debilitating stroke on March 1 that year.¹⁰⁷

The Americans faced problems with their allies in both the Korean and Vietnam Wars. South Korea’s Syngman Rhee resisted US efforts to negotiate an armistice in 1953 because he did not want the war to stop until the Korean peninsula was fully under the South Korean flag. He went so far as to sabotage the negotiations in an effort to keep the war going. The US brought Rhee into line with promises of support and threats of abandonment.¹⁰⁸ Similarly, in 1972 when the US was struggling to end its involvement in Vietnam, South Vietnam’s President Nguyen Van Thieu resisted signing the agreement because it allowed North Vietnam to keep the areas of South Vietnam it occupied and to leave its forces in the South. This essentially meant the surrender of large tracts of South Vietnam to Communist control. Nixon threatened Thieu with abandonment if he did not sign and sweetened the deal with promises of military and economic aid, and a commitment to support South Vietnam against future Northern aggression.¹⁰⁹ The first promise was partially kept, the second was not.

The two Koreas and South Vietnam suffered from the fact that they were smaller and thus weaker powers. Such states involved in negotiating an end to a war are more often than not dependent upon their powerful coalition partner or partners, who may prove willing to sacrifice the interests and even the existence of the lesser powers to make peace. One can see this clearly in the Peace of Nicias during the Peloponnesian War, when Sparta made peace with Athens without consulting its coalition partners and bargained away the freedom of other states. One work advises that “Any small power drawn into peace negotiations with a big-power sponsor is well advised to keep its hands firmly on its weapons. However small its armaments, they are nevertheless more real than any promise could ever be.”¹¹⁰

In the 1990–91 Gulf War, the primary US political objective was the liberation of Kuwait. There were some others as well, such as protecting US citizens overseas and promoting “the security and the stability of the Persian Gulf,” and the expulsion of Iraqi forces from Kuwait was also included.¹¹¹ The liberation of Kuwait mattered most. The problem was that once it began to appear that the primary political objective had been achieved, the Bush administration became a bit fuzzy in regard to what it truly sought to obtain politically, as well as how it should obtain it. As America’s Korean War experience demonstrated, US policymakers sometimes have trouble keeping their eye on the political objective. In the First Gulf War, US leaders did not repeat the mistake of changing the political objective without sufficiently considering the effects (they waited until 2003 to do this) – at least not quite. But their thoughts and actions begin running toward moving from a limited political objective – liberating Kuwait – to an unlimited political objective of overthrowing Saddam Hussein.

After the war, Secretary of State James Baker said in regard to removing Saddam and thus changing the regime that the Bush administration was “careful not to embrace it as a war aim or political aim.” But during the war the coalition certainly bombed targets in the hope Saddam was there, which is perfectly understandable, as his death would likely have brought an immediate end to the war. National Security Advisor Brent Scowcroft worried that if Saddam fell, the US would be stuck with a massive nation-building effort and an Iraq that would end up being ruled by “another, perhaps less problematic, strongman.”¹¹² They had certainly considered the possibility of Saddam’s removal, and during a January 9, 1991 meeting with Iraqi Foreign Minister Tariq Aziz, Baker delivered a letter from President Bush that made it clear that if Saddam used chemical or biological weapons or destroyed Kuwait’s oil fields or related infrastructure, Iraq would “pay a terrible price.” Baker also told Aziz: “If there is any use of weapons like that, our objective won’t be the liberation of Kuwait, but the elimination of the current Iraq regime and anyone responsible for using those weapons would be held accountable.”¹¹³ This commitment even found its way into the formal policy document outlining the administration’s objectives.¹¹⁴

On February 15, 1991, before the Iraqis agreed to a ceasefire, and even before the beginning of the coalition ground offensive, President Bush said in a speech that another way to avoid bloodshed was for the Iraqis to overthrow Saddam. He said later this was something he added “impulsively.” This sparked an immediate press frenzy regarding whether or not the US had added another objective: overthrowing Saddam. Bush replied that it had not.¹¹⁵ He repeated his call for the Iraqis to rebel when announcing the ceasefire talks at Safwan.¹¹⁶ This raises a key point: had the US political objective changed? National Security Advisor Brent Scowcroft later called the first mention of revolt an “impulsive ad lib” which he believed resulted in President Bush facing unfair charges that he “had encouraged the Iraqi people to rise against Saddam and then failed to come to their aid when they did, at the end of the conflict.” A presidential speech is never routine, especially one concerning a war. Repeating the call, as Bush did later, arguably demonstrated a deeper commitment to or consideration of the idea. Scowcroft went on to say:

After the war, the Bush administration temporarily insisted that the US would not agree to the lifting of economic sanctions as long as Saddam remained in power. This constituted a de facto switch to a political objective of regime change.¹¹⁸

So, had the war’s objective changed? Or had it become unclear? The fact that it is difficult to answer this question makes one lean toward a lack of clarity in the minds of the political leaders. As we’ve seen before, this is a problem. If you don’t know what you want, how do you make a peace that will help you get it? Having a clearer vision of what they wished the end of the war to look like might not have prevented the many problems ending the war that we see below, because this is such an exceedingly difficult task, even for a combatant who has been so spectacularly successful on the battlefield, but it certainly wouldn’t have hurt.

2 How Far Must or Should One Go Militarily?

When trying to deduce the proper usage of military power for ending a war one must – as always – keep the political objective or objectives being sought firmly rooted in one’s mind. There are, of course, many routes to victory, and Clausewitz gives us a useful list of options for using military force to end a war:

1. a destruction of the enemy’s forces

2. b the conquest of his territory

3. c a temporary occupation or invasion

4. d projects with an immediate political purpose

5. e passively awaiting the enemy’s attacks.

“Any one of these,” he insists, “may be used to overcome the enemy’s will: the choice depends on circumstances.” Moreover, the personalities of leaders and their personal relations add infinite other possibilities for achieving the policy objective.¹¹⁹

3 Who Will Maintain the Peace Settlement, and How?

The problem with some agreements is that they are seen as temporary expedients and not taken seriously by their signatories. Clausewitz cautions: “Lastly, even the ultimate outcome of war is not always to be regarded as final. The defeated state often considers the outcome merely as a transitory evil, for which a remedy may still be found in political conditions at some later date.”¹⁵⁹ The 1954 Geneva Accords and the 1961 agreement to neutralize Laos are great examples of this. The North Vietnamese Communists signed them but never had any intention of abiding by the terms.¹⁶⁰

One must think about the differences in war termination between wars fought for limited and unlimited objectives. Some argue it is easier to enforce terms such as disarmament with the complete overthrow of the regime and an occupation, and thus this tends to create a more stable post-war environment.¹⁶¹ Liddell Hart, though, argued that a negotiated peace to which the combatants have not been forced to conform because their power has been destroyed and in which they freely participate (he sees something along the eighteenth-century model) is easier to maintain, and the signatories are more likely to keep the terms because they have agreed to them. If terms are forced upon them, he continues, they are more likely to feel no obligation to maintain them.¹⁶² The truth is that both of these observations are correct. Every peacemaking situation is as unique as every warmaking situation. The variables and their weights are unique to each event. Successful peacemaking may very well require as much creativity as successful warfighting.

There seem to be two key things critical to making a peace work: 1) a formal treaty; and 2) clear and enforceable terms. It would be foolish, though, to assume that these are silver bullets for the problem and the only things one must consider. This is obviously the ideal, but peacemaking is more difficult in a war fought for a limited political objective, because usually one has not completely disarmed the opponent; nor is the opponent necessarily prostrate and forced to accept whatever peace is dictated.

A Formal Treaty: Problems and Promises

One the most famous peace agreements was negotiated at Versailles after the Great War, or, as we now call it, the First World War, which perhaps demonstrates its level of success. French Marshal Ferdinand Foch said of the Versailles Treaty: “This is not a peace. It is an armistice for 20 years.”¹⁶³ Ideally, one of the things a peace agreement should do is resolve the problems that led to the war (if possible). This is considered by some scholars as the most likely route to a lasting peace, but has also been rare since the end of the Second World War.¹⁶⁴ One of the great tragedies of the Versailles settlement is that even the victorious parties did not agree on what issues caused the war. To France, the problem was German aggression; to Britain, it was the collapse of the European balance of power; to the US, it was secret treaties. This was exacerbated by disagreements between the various Allied political and military leaders. This fundamental difference in views multiplied the problems in making peace.¹⁶⁵ It also forces us to recall the previous admonition to coalition partners to have their differences sorted before they have reached this stage.

Obviously, one hopes to make a better peace than the one forged at Versailles. Machiavelli wrote: “If one wants to find out if a peace settlement is stable or secure, one has among other things to figure out who is dissatisfied with that settlement, and what can grow out of such dissatisfaction.”¹⁶⁶ Historian Michael Howard insisted that “a war, fought for whatever reason, that does not aim at a solution which takes into account the fears, the interests and, not least, the honour of the defeated peoples is unlikely to decide anything for very long.”¹⁶⁷ Peace, though, does not usually satisfy all the winners, and sometimes the terms agreed upon are ambiguous.¹⁶⁸ These are problems one must struggle to overcome.

One critical key to securing a lasting peace is a formal settlement that includes official documents of surrender or peace, whatever the case may be. Done properly, this removes much ambiguity about where power and authority will lie. The victorious Allied powers waged the Second World War for unlimited political objectives and not limited ones, but one of the strengths of the conflict’s settlement was the Allied insistence on formal acts of surrender from the Italians, Germans, and Japanese, agreements arranged by official representatives from both sides. The US failed to do this in Iraq in 2003, despite the fact that important officials such as Iraqi Foreign Minister Tariq Aziz had surrendered to the Americans.¹⁶⁹ This, though, still might not have prevented the insurgency that followed, particularly that waged by Al Qaeda.

Part of the problem is a historical one. Between 1480 and 1970, wars were as likely to be ended by a formal treaty as not.¹⁷⁰ One result of the decline of formal declarations of war, as well as formal peace treaties to end them, is ambiguity in regard to whether or not nations are at war with one another.¹⁷¹ This is the situation one hopes a formal peace agreement resolves. But one has to negotiate with the enemy, both to stop the fighting and to make the final treaty. As we’ve seen, these are different, though clearly related, tasks. Michael Handel suggested that “different types of leaders are needed for the various stages of war termination.” The person who negotiates the termination of the fighting is not necessarily the best person to negotiate the war’s formal end.¹⁷²

Peace treaties obviously do not mean permanent peace. The vast scope of human history screams against this despite its obvious value. One work insisted “no peace is permanent, and nothing so surely guarantees war as dissatisfaction with contingency and the attempt to establish perpetual peace.”¹⁷³ Another text argued that there cannot be permanent peace, because there are so many in the world who do not see war as evil – and who will never be convinced that it is – and see in it a positive good. Nietzsche and Homer were among the latter.¹⁷⁴ The ancient Greeks saw war as glorious. The Japanese warrior culture before the Second World War didn’t view it as evil. Muslim jihadists believe in war as the means of achieving their dream of a restoration of the ancient Islamic caliphate. One cannot help but argue that the war against Nazism was a definite good. And sometimes nations fight because refusing to do so means annihilation.

It can be to the weaker power’s advantage to seek a clear, final peace treaty because it can constrain future actions by its adversaries, particularly democratic ones, since they are more likely to adhere to such agreements. At the end of the 1990–91 Gulf War, the Iraqis could have pushed for an agreement that would have tied the hands of the US in regard to future action. A permanent peace could have made it much more difficult for President George W. Bush to win approval from the US Congress to go to war against Iraq in 2003.

Often, insurrections are not terminated formally, as the sides usually don’t recognize one another’s legitimacy.¹⁷⁵ This though, is not an absolute, and states often negotiate with insurgent forces to bring about the end of hostilities. The 1919–21 Irish rebellion against Britain, for example, was ended by negotiations.

Ending wars with several powers usually means concluding several treaties. Two treaties signed at Westphalia in 1648 ended most of the hostilities of the Thirty Years War, but there were eleven other treaties made during and after, and the fighting continued another eight years. As we’ve seen, ending the First World War – a conflict that included seventy-nine bilateral wars – required five treaties signed between 1919 and 1920, but the Kemalist revolution in Turkey prevented the ratification of the Treaty of Sèvres. Peace with Turkey was only concluded in 1924. The Russians concluded a number of separate peace treaties with their various antagonists.¹⁷⁶

As mentioned above, one must keep in mind that an armistice or ceasefire that stops the fighting is not the same as a settlement concluding the war. Unless the agreement to stop the fighting has a time limit, an armistice can end up being the de facto settlement. Moreover, such agreements can mean that it is easy to restart hostilities and almost always lack official political acceptance of their permanence by either side, even if they go on for decades.¹⁷⁷ The 1953 agreement ending the Korean War is an example of an enduring armistice, if not an enduring peace agreement. The First Iraq War concluded in 1991 with a ceasefire but not a treaty. The fighting in the First World War was ended by an armistice, but peace was concluded by a series of treaties. One must remember this distinction when analyzing the conclusion of conflicts.

An armistice (or ceasefire) is not the preferred ending to a war, as it can leave open too many doors for restarting the conflict. The combatants may have different motives for agreeing to the ceasefire, and these motives might not include an actual willingness to make peace. One or both of the combatants may simply view the ceasefire as a means of gaining a pause for rebuilding their strength and preparing for the next round. For example, the Chinese sought, but did not receive, an armistice in Korea in the early summer of 1951 because their army teetered on the brink of destruction. Ceasefires and other provisional endings to wars also generally fail to address what will happen after the fighting ends. They address the fighting, not the political problems. A ceasefire might lead to a political settlement, but it also might not.¹⁷⁸ A question one should consider here is this: has either side decided to abandon their earlier political objective or objectives? If so, what now do they want?

Some argue that the losing side should quickly sign an internationally recognized peace treaty so it can be reintegrated quickly into the body of nations. If your domestic political or economic situation is particularly dire, this could very well be the case. But if you are the losing side and there is an armistice in place that has halted the fighting, and you aren’t occupied, you should consider delaying as long as possible. “Time,” as Clausewitz says, “accrues to the defender. He reaps where he did not sow.” He meant the defender in war, but if your military and domestic political situations are firm enough to support it, the loser can delay in an effort to weaken the terms and lower the costs they will incur. Delay may also allow the loser to exploit differences among his coalition enemies.¹⁷⁹ Delay can be more fruitful and have less risk and cost for the loser in a war fought for a limited political objective than an unlimited one – if they are not risking their complete destruction, which might be the case if they are fighting a defensive war. There are always exceptions, of course. The risk here is that the terms you get might be worse. But that is why you must understand the situation clearly to weigh the danger of delay in relation to the rewards. An armistice can be an extremely valuable tool if properly exploited.

Another key to establishing a lasting peace is signing an official agreement (or agreements) with all of the combatants that include verifiable enforcement mechanisms. This is very easy to say, but exceedingly difficult to do, especially if you are not imposing your will upon the enemy. Formal agreements, though, are critically important for helping establish a lasting peace “in part because they provide an opportunity to specify various enforcement mechanisms that foster trust and increase the costs of defection. More significantly, they are important because they specify who gets what and thereby determine the benefits of peace and the incentives to return to war.”¹⁸⁰ Historians Gordon Craig and Alexander George warn of some of the problems here:

Political scientist Paul Kecskemeti argued that “The fullest measure of rationality, however, is represented by those terminal settlements that are mutually acceptable to the parties regardless of the costs and risks involved in rejecting or repudiating them.”¹⁸²

Enforcing the Terms

One analyst notes in regard to treaties that nations sign: “If either belligerent expected that the other would not honor the agreement, it is improbable that they would accept the agreement in the first place.”¹⁸³ This gives us some room for hope. But it does not remove the reality that, for a number of reasons, enforcing treaty terms can be more difficult than actually arriving at them. Strategic analyst Anthony Cordesmann cautions (though one can argue with this) that the US and its allies “need to understand that they cannot control the end state, that conflict termination agreements almost never shape the aftermath of a conflict even when it actually ends, and that the real-world challenges of moving from conflict to stability are far greater and involve far longer time periods.”¹⁸⁴

Among the many problems with enforcing peace terms is that the defeated often don’t accept the articles of the agreement they have just signed. When Prussia made peace with Napoleon in 1807, it wasted little time in ignoring the military restrictions placed upon it and conducted a partially clandestine effort to improve its military condition, one in which Clausewitz happily participated.¹⁸⁵ Famously, the Germans cheated extensively on the military restrictions of the Versailles Treaty of 1919. The army developed its armored warfare concepts partially based on clandestine, illegal work with the Soviets, while the German navy secretly built submarines in Finland, Sweden, and Japan.¹⁸⁶

The arms limitation agreements placed upon Iraq after 1991 and Germany post-1919 were constantly violated by the defeated powers. The authors of one study note: “The absence of a specified trip-wire and time frame for compliance in both the 1920s and 1990s is what produced hesitation, muddle, international disagreement and ultimately the withdrawal of both inspection commissions.” The authors also found that “Indeed, though a necessary condition for any effective policing of arms-limitation regimes, monitoring and verification mechanisms are by themselves insufficient. They must be accompanied by enforcement mechanisms, and by the political will to use them and keep them in place.”¹⁸⁷

Another problem is that you only have so much time to enforce the disarmament clauses and other terms of the treaty, because states may start to wriggle out of the provisions. As we’ve just seen, in the post-First World War period Germany began immediately violating the terms of Versailles. After the 1990–91 Gulf War, Saddam Hussein had no qualms in manipulating UN weapons inspections. Moreover, the victors and the international community can quickly lose interest, and the international community can become a block to enforcement, because its members begin to see the victor in a bad light.¹⁸⁸

This produces another enforcement problem: the victor’s insistence upon enforcing the peace can lead to their being deemed the problem in the international arena and the true threat to peace and stability.¹⁸⁹ Such has at times been the fate of the United States and Israel in recent decades, and France in the aftermath of the First World War. This strange dichotomy creates an argument for the victor making a quick peace and the defeated pursuing delay, again, depending upon the military, political, and diplomatic situations. The victor, especially if they are a great power, might have to stiffen its spine and take the criticism to get what it wants. A strong leader will also not so easily bend to media and international criticism. This is usually short-lived and is always fickle, because some other thing will come along to divert the focus of both.

There is also the opposite enforcement problem, in that those who sign up for the job later refuse to bear the burden. This is sometimes a result of being portrayed as an international bully or a malcontented international actor. Such fears led to only four of the twenty-seven signatories of the 1919 Versailles agreements doing their part as enforcers during the occupation of the Ruhr in 1923. It is also hard to hold the interest of nations in enforcement as other problems arise that seem more pressing – and indeed sometimes are. After the 1990–91 Gulf War, enforcement of United Nations Special Commission (UNSCOM) inspections of Iraq became less important in the face of the collapse of Yugoslavia and the wars that followed. The US and Britain were criticized for the enforcement of the “no-fly zones” in Iraq after the 1990–91 Gulf War.¹⁹⁰ The US also received increasing international criticism for its enforcement of UN-mandated sanctions.

Other problems abound. Geography can affect the enforcement of terms just as it does the waging of the war because of the proximity of the defeated to the victors. After the First World War, distance and the Atlantic Ocean allowed the US to ignore a revisionist and revanchist Germany; France had no such luxury.¹⁹¹ Disputes over post-war territorial control also weaken settlements. One scholar insists that “Territory is the only variable that significantly affects the risk of recurrent conflict.”¹⁹² History certainly seems to support this. Bismarck’s annexation of Alsace and Lorraine after the 1870–71 Franco–Prussian War caused long-term bitterness between France and Germany. The question of the possession of Kashmir feeds conflict between India and Pakistan today, as do the results of the various Arab–Israeli wars. Geography can at times make terms self-enforcing, where the location of the new border or its particular terrain can make launching a war more difficult.¹⁹³

There are other problems arising from the enforcement of the terms: “If a government does not intend permanently to occupy and administer a territory but merely to make a treaty in which the people agree that they will trade on favorable terms or concede other intangible advantages, what assurances can there be that they will continue to carry out these obligations after the armies are gone?”¹⁹⁴ This is arguably easier to do in a war fought for limited political objectives, because you have not asked for much. But it is also arguably more difficult because, after the peace, you may lack the leverage to coerce the enemy into keeping their end of the bargain.

The April 3, 1991 United Nations Security Council Resolution 687, referred to as “the Mother of All Resolutions” because at that time it was the Security Council’s lengthiest ever, formalized the ceasefire conditions of the First Gulf War. One could argue that this was as close to a peace treaty as one could get. The Resolution also added other sanctions and inspections, and mandated Baghdad disclose all of its WMD and ballistic missiles to UN-supervised destruction. Iraq was ordered to pay for damages committed in Kuwait, as well as the environmental damage done to the Gulf via its purposefully pumping oil into the sea in an effort to hinder the coalition’s war effort. All revenue that Iraq derived from the sale of oil was supposed to go to a fund to pay for these damages; the remainder could be used for food or reconstruction. The “Oil for Food Program” evolved from this.¹⁹⁵

After the war, the US implemented a form of containment against Saddam with the objectives of preventing a new burst of Iraqi aggression and keeping Saddam from rebuilding his military capability. Containment had four primary elements: 1) disarmament via the UN program, particularly in regard to WMD and ballistic missiles; 2) UN monitoring; 3) the presence of US military forces, particularly via what began as the No-Fly Zones protecting the Shia and Kurds; and 4) maintaining sanctions put in place during the war to prevent Saddam from re-arming. Interestingly, no one had expected these sanctions to drive Saddam out of Kuwait, but now expected them to effect a change in Iraqi behavior. Over the long term, the sanctions system began to break down via corruption in the UN-backed “Oil for Food Program” and the willingness of nations such as China to simply ignore them when it suited their needs.¹⁹⁶ Publicly, Saddam complied, but cheated at every opportunity and began rebuilding his chemical and biological weapons programs. He particularly masked efforts to rebuild his shattered nuclear program.¹⁹⁷

There are a number of ways to enforce the terms of a treaty. But unfortunately, historian Quincy Wright argued, most of the things statesmen have done historically when trying to resolve issues of both war and peace have made the world less stable and produced war, not peace.¹⁹⁸ Structures need to be built to protect everyone’s rights.¹⁹⁹ This, of course, can be difficult. Monitoring with external groups is a common practice, but deciding who these organizations or nations should be is difficult because of suspicions on all sides as to who is an honest actor. Occupation or peacekeeping forces are certainly an option, but these come with their own problems.

Achieving some kind of reconciliation is of course ideal. Iklé argues that “not only can reconciliation be an alternative route toward a more lasting peace, but today’s enemy may become a future ally, while today’s ally may pose a future threat.”²⁰⁰ But, again, the history and emotions behind the problem can make this difficult to achieve.

Moreover, victory does not always mean peace. Israel’s victories in its wars kept the state alive but did not bring peace. Some in the liberal West have even come to resent its success as well as its survival.²⁰¹ Israel was once seen as the underdog, but some now brand it a bully and deem it oppressive (tingeing some of this criticism is the traditional anti-Semitism of Western elites).

One of the things that may be necessary in order to maintain the peace is the rebuilding of the other state, which can include all or some of its administrative or security arms. This will very likely be the case during and in the aftermath of a counterinsurgency situation. Historically, this has proven very difficult. One author writing in 2013 noted that in cases since 1898 where the mission was completed or ended, the US and UN succeeded only 48 percent of the time. Policymakers simply do not understand or agree upon how to produce success. How one should approach this is certainly in dispute, and the massive literature suggests different approaches: liberalization first, or building institutions first, or providing security first. Some argue for finding the right sequence. One author believes sequencing to be a myth, and that one can’t do this because every situation is different.²⁰² Analyst Anthony Cordesmann observed that since the Second World War, achieving security and stability in a nation has only been possible in states capable of doing it themselves.²⁰³

Demilitarized zones can be helpful guarantors of peace, especially if they are big enough to keep forces separated, such as the ones established after the war between El Salvador and Honduras (the Soccer or Football War), between Israel and Syria in the Golan Heights, and between North and South Korea.²⁰⁴ Some argue that “mechanisms such as demilitarized zones, monitoring, and arms-control limitations are not merely effective in mitigating security fears arising from commitment problems; because such mechanisms increase the costs of returning to war, they generally increase the contact zone and thereby enhance the robustness of the settlement.”²⁰⁵ But it is impossible to prove this is a maker of peace.

Third-party guarantors of the peace can add to stability. The presence of peacekeepers and external monitors can also help keep the peace.²⁰⁶ Third-party peacekeeping forces became more available after 1945, but the evidence for the success of such measures is mixed, and some studies doubt their utility for establishing a lasting peace. But they can be a tool for creating peace, because the promise of their commitment by a third party can help induce states to make an agreement, if not necessarily a lasting one.²⁰⁷ Sometimes the UN backs interventions, but many find UN efforts lack credibility because of their failure in places such as Sudan, Rwanda, and Srebrenica, and the fact that there seems to be no coherency in regard to decisions to intervene.²⁰⁸

There can be problems securing the peace if one does not make it clear to the population of a defeated state that its leaders have indeed lost the war and led their nation to defeat. This can have unfortunate consequences, especially if the defeated state is a revanchist power. After the First World War, German Socialist Chancellor Friedrich Ebert greeted returning troops who marched through Berlin’s Brandenburg Gate by remarking that no one had defeated them on the battlefield. The German leaders knew the truth, but the people did not have to accept the fact that their military forces had been defeated. The victorious Allies failed to make this clear.²⁰⁹

In 1991, Iraq’s Saddam Hussein broadcast loudly that his forces had not been defeated militarily. As we’ve seen, the Iraqi official history of the war branded the military defeat a military victory, and Saddam and his regime publicly proclaimed a victory over the Americans. The Iraqi people did not have to accept the fact that their military forces had been defeated, as well as their nation.²¹⁰

Sometimes the loser’s defeat needs to be made clear to prevent the rise of myths and lies that allow groups to undermine the peace. The Nazi “stab in the back” myth is perhaps the best-known example of this. Hitler and the Nazi party perpetuated the lie that the German Army had not been defeated in 1918, but had been “stabbed in the back” on the home front, particularly by Socialists and Jews. The failure of the Allies to force recognition of this by the German government, people, and especially the military commanders, such as Marshals Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff who had led Germany to defeat, gave the Nazis a powerful propaganda tool.

But the victor must also be careful in the manner in which the defeat is made apparent. Sometimes, as in the case of Germany after the First World War, making defeat plain might have defused future problems. But there may be times when one needs to be sure to not humiliate the defeated opponent, because it can cause bitterness and resentment and make it more difficult to achieve a lasting peace. Clausewitz understood this on a very personal level. He is best known as a theorist, but he was also a professional soldier. After the fall of Napoleon in 1815, he was part of the Prussian occupation force in France. He observed (and indeed participated in) Prussian forced requisitions of goods and material, and criticized punitive efforts directed at the French, such as Marshal Gebhard von Blücher’s efforts to blow up Paris’ Jena Bridge. Clausewitz believed the British were more intelligent in their peacemaking, because they behaved with generosity. He considered the Prussians bad winners.²¹¹

Avoiding the above-mentioned issue of humiliating your opponent (accompanied by subterfuge) was part of the equation for successfully ending the 1932 Chaco War between Bolivia and Paraguay. The Paraguayans insisted that Bolivia accept their victory and that the boundary line fall near the extent of their advance. The Bolivians were unwilling to accept this, but also unable to throw back the enemy force. The warring powers eventually concluded a three-phased settlement. Secretly, Paraguay and Bolivia agreed on the new border. Then, the international tribunal that had been created to negotiate peace announced that they had decided the boundary line would be what had already been secretly agreed. Then the agreement had to be ratified in each state. Paraguay did so in a national plebiscite, whereas Bolivia gave approval via a vote in its congress. This allowed Bolivia to save face and gave Paraguay what it wanted. The settlement has held.²¹²

The famous Prussian statesman Otto von Bismarck insisted that peace be made quickly and moderately. On Prussia’s 1866 victory over Austria-Hungary he noted that “In positions such as ours was then, it is a political maxim after a victory not to inquire how much you can squeeze out of your opponent, but only to consider what is politically necessary.”²¹³ But Bismarck went too far in 1871 by taking Alsace and agreeing to annex the areas of Lorraine populated by French-speakers. This was done to eliminate a French route of attack against southern reaches of Germany over the Rhine, but Bismarck miscalculated in regard to French nationalist feelings. The French saw the annexations as humiliation, and this sparked a deep French desire for vengeance against Germany.²¹⁴

Some consider the Versailles Treaty of 1919 the ultimate example of a punitive peace, particularly because of the reparations it forced upon Germany. Its defenders will argue – rightfully – that the reparations were not definitively harsher than those Germany put upon Russia at Brest-Litovsk in 1918 and France in 1871. The first of these never held, and the second, as we’ve seen, helped cause enormous and long-term animosity among the French.

One must also remember the effects of defeat. Obviously, everything here depends upon whether or not you are the defeated. One of the first things one should do (at least in a liberal democracy) is to accept its reality when it occurs. But one should not use euphemisms to describe it; this can destroy your credibility with your own people. For example, one author says that the point of his work is to get policymakers to focus on “the loss-cutting skill set.”²¹⁵ It would be better for them to realize that they have lost or failed – failure meaning they have not achieved their political objective – and that it is time to put the conflict to rest. This, of course, is easier said than done, and can require more moral and political courage than starting the war because of the domestic and international costs in prestige, money, and so on, but also because it is simply heart-rending to lose. Defeat is deeply humiliating psychologically, and some find it easier to continue than to accept the unacceptable. As with so many of the factors in war – indeed, everything – the value of the object will be critical, and one must never forget the views and role of the nation’s people. It is easier to accept the loss of something of less value, but that does not make it easy to accept. The obvious counterargument is that sometimes leaders and states simply refuse to accept defeat even when it has occurred and see the result as temporary.

Some argue that in the larger context of the Cold War that it was good for the US to leave Vietnam in defeat, because this freed resources to fight the longer, unlimited Cold War. This idea is intellectually bankrupt. The costs of defeat – even in a war fought for a limited political objective – cannot be predicted before the disaster occurs. Defeat in Vietnam cost the US greatly in reputation and prestige. After 1975, the US paid a heavy price for defeat because some of its enemies – real and potential – viewed it as a paper tiger. Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden, and others drew the lesson that the US lacked staying power and would not endure casualties. This is a foolish conclusion to have reached, but this did not stop them from doing so. The lesson they should have drawn is that the US can and will fight for a limited aim in support of an ally for a very, very long time (the US was in Vietnam in some capacity from 1954 to 1975), and that if the US population is not properly informed and led by its leaders that it will eventually demand a lowering of the cost.

Finally, Michael Howard offers this caution: “Also, it is important that war should not be conducted in such a manner as to subvert the prospects for lasting peace.”²¹⁶ Unfortunately, this, despite its wisdom and like everything else related to war, is easier to advise than to ensure.