There are two central causes of the generally poor Western military record in the field of counterinsurgency. The first is that Western armies are either not large enough or do not consider it important enough to maintain a full-time, well-qualified cadre for counterinsurgency tasks. This is perhaps a good choice, because the main task for these organizations is to ensure an adequate response in the event of higher forms of conflict. The resulting cost, of course, is to occasionally field partially qualified novices in counterinsurgency situations where professionals are required. The second cause of lackluster Western military performance is that Western peoples will not long tolerate the use of their soldiers in suppressing rebellions in a distant land, whether their soldiers are in a direct combat role or serving as advisors.
An international corporation composed of former Western officers and soldiers skilled in acceptable counterinsurgency techniques would largely solve both of these Western counterinsurgency problems . . . Considering the record of most Western governments in the field of counterinsurgency, the corporation would not have to work very hard to achieve comparatively superior results. And a commercial concern would likely attain those improvements at considerably less cost.—Rod Paschall
LIC 2000: Special Operations and
Unconventional Warfare in the Next Century
(Institute of Land Warfare,
Association of the US Army, 1990)
If, in the future, war will be waged for the souls of men, then the importance of extending territorial control will go down. Long past are the days when provinces, even entire countries, were regarded simply as items of real estate to be exchanged among rulers by means of inheritance, agreement, or force. The triumph of nationalism has brought about a situation where people do not occupy a piece of land because it is valuable; on the contrary, a piece of land however remote or desolate is considered valuable because it is occupied by this people or that. To adduce but two examples out of many, since at least 1965 India and Pakistan have been at loggerheads over a glacier so remote that it can hardly even be located on a map. Between 1979 and 1988, Egypt spent nine years of diplomatic effort in order to recover Taba. Now Taba, south of Elath, is a half-mile stretch of worthless desert beach whose very existence had gone unnoticed by both Egyptians and Israelis prior to the Camp David Peace Agreements; all of a sudden it became part of each side's "sacred" patrimony and coffee-houses in Cairo were named after it. . . .
Another effect of the postulated breakdown of conventional war will probably be a greater emphasis on the interests of men at the head of the organization, as opposed to the interest, of the organization as such . . . Individual glory, profit, and booty gained directly at the expense of the civilian population will once again become important, not simply as incidental rewards but as the legitimate objectives of war. Nor is it improbable that the quest for women and sexual gratification will re-enter the picture. As the distinctions between combatants and noncombatants break down, the least we can expect is that such things will be tolerated to a greater extent than is supposed to be the case under the rules of so-called civilized warfare. In many of the low-intensity conflicts currently being waged in developing countries this is already true, and has, indeed, always been true.—Martin van Creveld
The Transformation of War, 1991
The Council Chamber was colorful, and for the moment buzzing with informal chatter. Most seats at the big conference table were taken. The conspicuous exceptions were the cabinet secretary's console at one end, and a single large arm chair at the center. The War Cabinet was already at the table. Rear Admiral Samuel Forrest, as senior Naval officer, sat between Generals Owensford and Slater, the deep midnight blue of his Navy tunic contrasting with the more colorful army garrison uniforms. Madame Elayne Rusher, the Attorney General, was next to General Lawrence Desjardins, Chief of the Royal Spartan Mounted Police. Roland Dawson, Principal Secretary of State, chatted with Lord Henry Yamaga, Secretary of State for the Interior and Industrial Development. Eric Respari of Finance listened to them with a sour expression. Everyone knew that Respari had been an avid student of the late King Jason's economics theories; now he resembled the Freedman King in expression as well. Sir Alfred Nathanson, called Minister of War even though his office was administrative rather than part of the chain of command, was hard at work on his notebook computer. At the far end of the table Dr. Caldwell Whitlock sat alone. He had been invited by Prince Lysander, and if some of the regular members of the War Cabinet resented his presence, none of them were going to say so, especially not today.
In addition to the principal officers at the conference table, another dozen chairs along the walls were filled with experts: Legion Captains Jesus and Catherine Alana, Alan Hruska, the Milice chief for Sparta City; Spartan and Brotherhood military; Legion officers; civilian officials, most carrying notebook computers.
The room fell silent as Horace Plummer, Secretary to the Cabinet, came into the conference chamber and stood just inside the door. "My lords, ladies, gentlemen, His Highness Crown Prince Lysander, Master of the Forces by order of the Kings acting under the Ultimate Decree of the Senate of Sparta." Everyone stood. The military acted from habit, as perhaps did some of the others, but some were reacting to the solemn formality of Plummer's announcement.
Lysander wore the military uniform of an officer of the Royals but with no insignia of rank. He looked older than his years as he took his place at the center of the big conference table. There was only one chair there. Previously there had always been two, and Lysander had sat across from them, where General Owensford was now. Lysander nodded pleasantly to everyone, but took his seat in silence. After a moment the others sat down as well.
"The agenda is on your screens," Plummer said.
"With his Highness's permission," Roland Dawson said, "the agenda will endure a brief wait. We understand there is good news from St. Thomas's."
Lysander frowned for a moment, then suddenly his smile returned, as if he had remembered to wear it again. "Thank you. Yes, very good news indeed. Graffin Melissa is recovering well."
"Well enough to have enjoyed a brief visit to the Palace last evening. Her father mentioned it this morning. And, Highness, I have heard that we may have better news shortly," Dawson continued relentlessly. The Principal Secretary of State was the leader of the majority party in the Senate, and by definition a politician, and not even the Ultimate Decree would change that. "I understand the Queen is consulting the Archbishop to reschedule the wedding. I understand and appreciate that Your Highness would prefer this to remain a private matter, but the Citizens will be overjoyed at the news, and I ask permission to make the announcement."
Lysander looked around the room at the eager faces. Even the dour finance minister was smiling agreement with Dawson.
"Time we had some good news to announce," Elayne Rusher said.
"The Citizens will certainly want to celebrate," Sir Alfred Nathanson said.
Lysander nodded. "I expect you're right. I'll leave the details to you, then. Now—and thank you, Roland—Mr. Plummer, if we can get back to the agenda?"
"Item One. A report from the military field commands," Horace Plummer said. "General Owensford."
"Highness. My lords and ladies. You've seen the overall figures, and the rest are in the conference room computer. I can summarize in two words. We're winning."
"Thank God," Roland Dawson said. The Principal Secretary of State mopped his brow with an already damp handkerchief. "How soon do you think this will be over?"
"Not as soon as you'd like, I'm afraid," Peter Owensford said. "We're stretched pretty thin, no reserves to speak of. Nearly everything we've got has been thrown into the two campaigns, the Stora pursuit, and the reduction of their main base. We're winning, but it isn't all that easy, there are complications. Full details are in the reports on your consoles there. Unfortunately, I must ask you not to remove electronic copies of those reports from this room. We know the computers here are clean, and they have no physical connection whatever to any other system."
"General?"
"General Desjardins?"
"Does this mean we still can't rely on our computer systems?"
"Correct," Owensford said. "We captured a fair number of Helot technicians in training at Base One, and we've learned a lot from them. Murasaki's people were deeper into our computer systems than I would have imagined. We learned that much mostly by inference and skilled questioning of Helot officers and trainees." Peter Owensford nodded acknowledgment to the Captains Alana. They smiled briefly. Both looked both overworked and triumphant.
"Unfortunately, we didn't get a single live technoninja," Owensford said. "The four we did apprehend were dead when captured, or died before they could be drugged. Interestingly there was one already dead, killed by torture, apparently by Helot experts. No one seems to know anything about that, unless Captain Alana has learned something since I last spoke with him. Yes, Jesus?"
"We have one Helot officer who said the execution was personally ordered by Field Prime, as punishment for failures during the Stora Mines operation," Jesus Mana said. "Apparently this was demanded by the senior survivors of the Stora Commando. They felt they had been betrayed, and someone should be punished."
"So," Lysander said. "The vipers are fanging each other."
"So it would appear, Highness," Owensford said. "We're beginning to see fair numbers of defecting officers. Especially in the Stora Commando group, where we got a colonel, one Hamish Beshara, code name Ben Bella. Incidentally, his spetsnaz brigade commander was our friend Niles." Owensford stopped. Prince Lysander's face had frozen into a mask of hate. "Ben Bella had nothing to do with the missile attack, Highness. Jesus?"
"No, my prince. To the best of my skills, no one we have captured had any notion that the missile would be used against a non-military target. Colonel Ben Bella thought its purpose was to destroy the geo-thermal generating system if, as happened, the sabotage effort failed." Jesus shrugged. "I am certain I could find evidence to convict him of wanton destruction of civilian property, but I would not care to argue the case in a CoDominium court martial. Especially since the man surrendered on promise of amnesty for all except deliberate atrocities. He has a different conception of atrocity than we, but he is convinced he committed none—and that the missile attack was an atrocity. He insists that he would not have allowed that had he known, and while I may doubt he would have risked his life to prevent it, it is certain he believes he would have."
"Which brings us to a decision item," Owensford said when Lysander didn't answer. "We have captured a number of Helot soldiers, and in the base camp we took prisoner other rebels. The Helots have no conception of non-combatant status. All their membership are rebels, and would be expected to fight. They are nearly all armed, and some of their women and children were killed bearing arms against our forces. Others threw away their weapons. In any case it is difficult to think of a ten year old child as an armed enemy."
"Nits make lice," someone said.
Owensford frowned. "That has been said in every revolutionary war in history," he said. "And it's no more appropriate here than it was in Palestine or Kurdistan. Your Highness, we will need policies and procedures. What shall we do with captured Helot soldiers and their non-military adherents?"
"We can't just let them go," Yamaga said. "They won't work. They wouldn't work before they became Helots, and they won't work now, and now they've got a taste for rebellion. And training with weapons. Let them loose and they'll turn criminals even if they don't rejoin the rebellion."
"They have to be taught to work," Madame Rusher said. "Work habits."
"Arbeit macht frei," General Desjardins said. "A much abused slogan, but I believe Madame Elayne has the essence of it. They must become convinced that work is a better alternative than banditry."
"We can use some of the soldiers in expeditionary forces," Hal Slater said. "And the Legion. But that requires transportation. I can't think we want them armed and at large on Sparta until they've been obedient for a few years." He chuckled. "Pity we can't make them involuntary colonists to somewhere else. Send them to Byer's and let them buy the criminal life in Hell's-a-comin'."
"Now there's a thought," Yamaga said. "Pity indeed we can't do that."
"But the question is, what do we do with them now?" Owensford said. "We've got the island camps. The Legion training program worked all right. Last time we had transport we shipped over five hundred retrained Helots to reinforce Falkenberg on New Washington, and last I heard they were doing well enough. Of course that's the cream of the crop, the ones with enough gumption to stick it."
"You sent back a thousand more who'd volunteered and couldn't finish your course," Sir Alfred Nathanson said. "And they're something of a problem. For the moment we've been able to keep order on the Island, even have them growing their own crops. But we can't maintain concentration camps like that forever!"
"Bit of a mess for the Coast Guard," General Desjardins said. "We've been worried that the Helots would try to rescue those people. So far the only reason they haven't has been the physical isolation, but we're using resources I'd like to put to other uses. We lose a few of those wet navy craft and all those Helot soldiers are available to the rebellion again."
"We can't just shoot them," Elayne Rusher said.
"No, Madam," Finance Minister Respari agreed. "Leave aside the ethics, none of the others would ever surrender if we did that. General, Sir Alfred, I'm afraid your island camps are the only solution we have. And the camps are cheaper than the war, by a lot."
"Actually, there are two problems," Yamaga said. "There are the prisoners of war, of course. And although we can't send off the criminals as colonists to a pleasant place like Hell's-a-comin', the CoDominium keeps dumping involuntary colonists on us. I grant you they're not quite the same situation, some of the new colonists fit in well enough, but all too many are nearly as much trouble as rebels." He shrugged. "And for a lot of them it's only a question of time before they go from being useless mouths to joining the rebellion and killing our people. Bread and circuses, that's what they want."
"Every democracy in history has wanted bread and circuses," Roland Dawson said. "Not our party, of course, but there are Citizen groups who'd rather try bread and circuses than continue the war."
"Danegeld," Hal Slater said. "Never a very wise thing to give anyone, certainly not to criminals."
"It is not what they will get," Lysander said. His voice was low, but the room became quiet when he spoke. "Build that kind of welfare state and we corrupt our own people. This government will not pay people to be poor, nor will we set up paid officials with an incentive to have poor and idle clients. General Desjardins, I take it your RSMP doesn't find Island duty pleasant."
"They hate it, Highness. So would you."
"I expect I would. Let me point out that there are advantages to this. No one wants to make a career of administering the camps, so there is no one who has a good reason to retain those camps if we find a better solution."
"No one I'd want in the RSMP," Desjardins sniffed.
"Keep it that way," Lysander said. "Too many nations have destroyed themselves by allowing potentially fatal changes to their institutions as an expedient for winning wars or settling domestic crises. Every institution you build has people who want to keep on doing what they do. It's the nature of government, to build enduring institutions, structures that stay long after their purpose is over. If you pay people to help the poor, you have people who won't be paid if there aren't any poor, so they'll be sure to find some. Sparta was created as the antithesis of that kind of welfare state, and by God it will stay that way. I'd rather lose the war than change that."
There were mutters of agreement around the table.
"Hear, hear," Whitlock said.
"That's clear, then," Lysander said. "Now let me point out that when we win this war we will have far more Helot prisoners, some of them genuine war criminals."
"Hang them," Desjardins said.
"Those we can convict of atrocities, certainly. But how many will that be?"
"Rome crucified a rebel at every milepost from Vesuvius to Rome after the Spartacus rebellion," Madame Rusher said. "That's what? No more than a thousand, surely, and it's remembered to this day. I suppose if we top that we'll get a place in the history books, but I'm not sure it's a place we want."
"Nor I," Lysander said. "I'm not sure what to do with those merely swept up in the rebellion, but there's a simple solution to what to do with the active participants in the rebel cause. They wanted to try the barbarian life. I propose to give them their wish. Turn them loose on the island. Wolf Island. They get hand tools, seeds, and a few farm animals. No weapons, and no technology. If they don't work, they starve. After a few years the survivors can try to negotiate a better deal."
"Stark," Roland Dawson said.
"It's better than they planned for us," Lysander said. "Sir Alfred, this will be your concern. Please see to it."
"Yes, Highness."
"Sir?"
"Admiral Forrest."
"This is my first cabinet meeting. I'm not certain of the procedure," Forrest said.
"We're fairly informal, Admiral," Lysander said. "If you believe you have something we should know that's relevant to the discussion, it's quite proper to speak up."
"Yes, sir. I was going to say, the news from the CoDominium is confusing and contradictory. Rumors of mutinies in the fleet. Ships beached for lack of money to repair and fuel them. Stories of rivalries, along with official documents that don't acknowledge that there's anything unusual happening at all. One thing is certain, the BuReloc transport is overdue. It may be that we won't be getting so many involuntary colonists."
"A consummation devoutly to be wished," Hal Slater said carefully. "I hear much the same as Admiral Forrest. The CD's having trouble finding enough money to operate all their ships. It's probable we won't have as much trouble with involuntary colonists as we thought we would."
"Or that it will all happen at once, with a number of ships coming simultaneously," Lysander said. "But thank you for bringing that up. I presume everyone here knows that Admiral Forrest has persuaded the local CoDominium Fleet Commander to safeguard our observation and communications satellite. We're told that they're also intercepting the clandestine arms shipments to the rebels."
"We very much owe Admiral Forrest a vote of thanks," Elayne Rusher said.
"Indeed," Lysander said. "Those Fang missiles could have been a lot of trouble. Still can be, but at least there aren't infinite supplies of them coming in. And the other high tech gear. From all of us, and from me personally, Admiral, thank you. We won't forget."
"Thank you, Highness," Forrest said. "Of course I had considerable help from Dr. Whitlock. He can be extremely persuasive."
"Well, thank you," Whitlock said. "Most important thing is to convince the local CD people they'll be better off with us as a strong and peaceful place to call home, and the best arguments for that are Admiral Forrest and Captain Nosov."
Lysander nodded agreement. "General Owensford, please continue your report."
"Yes, Highness," Owensford said. "As I said earlier, we're winning. The renewed satellite pictures have been extremely useful, especially in the pursuit of their northern group, the force they called the Stora Commando group. I am pleased to report that the Stora Commando is no longer a threat to anyone. For a while they retreated in an organized and disciplined manner. That gave General Barton a lot of trouble, but shortly after the Ultimate Decree they became little more than disorganized stragglers.
"The change was sudden and dramatic. We have since learned that most of their leadership was evacuated, leaving the rest on their own, which was pretty demoralizing when the word spread among them. Many who hadn't taken a personal part in atrocities surrendered very soon after that. The rest are disorganized, mostly city punks in the wilderness, relentlessly pursued by outdoorsmen who enjoy their work. You could almost feel sorry for them."
"No you couldn't," Lysander said. "They demanded their rights. They'll get justice. How many criminals have we caught?"
"Not so many as I'd like, because of course the ones we could prove to be war criminals don't surrender. On the other hand, over six hundred have accepted the amnesty. Of those, nine were easily proven to be war criminals, thirty-four probably are, and four were traitors, actual Citizen supporters of the rebels."
"Probably," Roland Dawson said. "What means probable, given your—techniques?"
Jesus Alana shrugged. "It is expensive and time consuming to question every captive," he said. "And are we so certain we want the answers? If we know someone is guilty of war crimes, we must make a decision as to what to do with him."
"What happened to the Citizens?" Lysander demanded.
"The traitors are in the Capital prison, Highness, awaiting Their Majesties' pleasure. Or yours," Owensford said. "They're a different case. The Helot soldiers we let go to the Island after interrogation, but we know who they are if we really want to find them again."
"Mutilation," one of the Brotherhood intelligence officers said. "We should chop off a finger. Or toes. Make it a lot easier to find them again."
Lysander didn't answer, and there was an awkward silence. "It's much the same around their Base Camp," Owensford said at last. "Better organized, but most of their leadership has bugged out. The troops left behind were supposed to sell their lives dearly. Some did, but it's beginning to sink in that they're fighting for a lost and dreary cause, and leaders who've run away. Once again we're seeing both individuals and organized groups looking for amnesty. Others have scattered into the wastelands, but this time with not much more than they can carry." Owensford shrugged. "Frankly, I'd rather be on the Island than on the run. Better soil, and I wouldn't have to worry that Mace's Scouts were looking for me."
"But we still haven't caught their leaders."
"Other than Croser and his Capital gang, no."
"General, every one of them seems to believe Skilly has a plan," Lysander said. "Do we have any notion of what it is?"
"No, sir."
"I keep remembering the Dales," Lysander said. "Where they had a plan that couldn't possibly work, only it very nearly did, because we certainly were not expecting poison gas. Captain Alana, you saw through that one just in time. What can they be planning now?"
"I confess to thinking much on that subject," Jesus Alana said. "Alas, my prince, with little result. Nor has Catherine been more successful."
"We're winning, but they're not giving up. Not trying to make terms," Lysander said. "I take that to mean they still believe they can win."
"Clearly," Hal Slater said.
"But they're losing. Losing badly. There's no way they can win."
"Well," Owensford said. "Perhaps. We can hope so, but in any event there is one thing I must remind you of, Highness. It may or may not have anything to do with Skilly, but it's clear that every gain we have made could be wiped out by the CoDominium. Give the Helots enough off-planet support and we wouldn't be winning any longer."
"Admiral, is this likely?"
"No," Forrest said. "Likely, no. But of course it's possible."
"Some day," Lysander said, but he said it so softly that Peter Owensford didn't think anyone else had heard.