Postmodern moral progressives like Steven Pinker argue the human race is becoming too civilised and interconnected to inflict upon each other the vast casualties experienced in wars past. These arguments combined with an insatiable optimism about technology’s ability to achieve greater precision in the application of violence has led many policy-makers to mistake war’s inherently violent nature for a preferred character of future war that sees violence itself as passé. This is dangerous because of the assumptions it makes about future war being less destructive than its previous iterations. Indeed, there is more that connects the physical experience of battle in Mosul today with that of Okinawa, Waterloo, or Alesia than that which separates them. What has changed is the way Western society conceives of the use of violence. Colin Gray suggests this is based on a lack of historical proficiency that not only leads to an inability to differentiate between the nature and character of war, but more egregiously leads to ‘grandiose visions’ of the end of war, or at least ‘systemic change in warfare in a benign direction’.[5]

This misplaced idealism tends to distract society from debating fundamental questions about the use of force in a volatile world, in turn undermining the development of effective strategy. Furthermore, historical illiteracy encourages a belief that military options can be employed to achieve a political objective without the destructive effects inherent to war’s nature.[6] These flawed assumptions about ‘the better angels of our nature’[7] inhibit the psychological preparation of modern Western societies for the physical impact of war, including the sacrifices (human and materiel) necessary to succeed. This in turn makes it difficult to marshal support for the level of violence required to bring wars to their necessary conclusion – that is to ‘defeat the enemy and humiliate his armed forces to such a degree that he submits to the dictates of peace.’[8] While many might consider this an outdated view, I would contend that the conduct of operations in Mosul bears striking resemblance to just this approach.

We have increasingly viewed war though the project management lens––a mistaken belief that war can be accurately tracked and reliably ‘turned off’ in a predictable fashion.

I would offer, therefore, that the development of contemporary strategy suffers from the confluence of three factors: a lack of understanding about how violence has been used to achieve a political objective throughout human history; the misguided belief that violence in the 21st century can be controlled so as to ensure the precise application of force; and a corresponding inability to acknowledge the great paradox of war: that more often than not it is the successful application of extreme violence that creates the opportunity for diplomatic activity to recommence. Therefore, rather than crafting strategy based on an understanding of uncertain progress, the acceptance of mistakes, and the requirement to adapt after setbacks, we have increasingly viewed war though the project management lens––a mistaken belief that war can be accurately tracked and reliably ‘turned off’ in a predictable fashion.[9]

All I have said so far should come as no surprise to the majority of readers who through study and/or experience are all-too familiar with the brutality of war and its implications. Unfortunately, however, it is often not this audience who makes the decision to go to war. The absence of war between highly-industrialised nations for more than half a century has allowed many in the policy community, and much of Western society at large, to forget just how devastating wars between nation states can be. Indeed, shock at the desolation of the Syrian cities of Homs and Aleppo demonstrates how remote the experience of Berlin and Tokyo’s destruction in World War II have become for many who presume to understand war as a tool of policy. While distressing, such destruction is not surprising––it is simply the outcome of two sides willing to absorb the attrition that so often characterises war in the belief they can win, regardless of the cost. That civil wars in particular can be this brutal, when erstwhile neighbours can resort to such violence, shows how easy it is for adversaries to become consumed by war’s inherent tendency to greater extremes of violence.[10] While war may not initially be characterised by this level or intensity of violence, it must be understood where the continued and amplified use of violence might lead––and as I have written previously it is unlikely to be either predictable or precise. Indeed, it will most likely change the character of the state that chooses to employ it as a tool of policy, and should therefore be employed with the utmost care.