War is a mere continuation of [politik] by other means.
-Carl von Clausewitz, On War1
This quote is widely accepted in military academic circles as being unquestionably true. It has certainly been the predominant view of war’s place in this world since its publishing. Part of its brilliance is that it supports democracy by ensuring that militaries serve the elected — that Generals answer to Statesmen. But what does politik really mean? More importantly, what should it mean to better enable an understanding of war?
The German politik is just as complicated as German food,2 and can mean either politics or policy. This double meaning has caused many debates over what Clausewitz actually meant. It is possible that German thought does not separate the two and that this is purely a self-induced Anglo-American thought problem. Or, perhaps he meant it only in one of the two senses. It is further possible that Clausewitz did this intentionally, as much of On War uses dialectics. Attempting to discern what he meant causes endless argument of translation and interpretation of an unfinished work. Instead, we should ask: How should we view war?
War should be seen as an extension of politics, not policy. This view is both the logical and the utilitarian one. There is a distinct difference between the two concepts that muddles and confuses the place of war in the modern world. Forming our language around war as an extension of policy would confine war within a strict interpretation that omits critical aspects. Accepting it as an extension of politics opens the aperture beyond these boundaries and facilitates a greater understanding of war’s nature. Lastly, Clausewitz’ primary purpose of tying war to politik is best served by politics, not policy.
Wars without policymakers
War can certainly serve policy, but such cases are far from universal law. Policy is “A principle or course of action adopted or proposed as desirable, advantageous, or expedient; esp. one formally advocated by a government, political party, etc.” This definition points to something we inherently understand about policy: it has some level of consistency. If an individual leader claims to have a policy, but they change it with their mood, it is considered erratic or waffling opinion, not policy. Both this and the Cambridge definition leave out the individual entirely. Policymakers make policy, but they are not the only ones who make war.
Many of Clausewitz’ critics point to a lack of discussion on non-state war. In John Keegan’s Reith Lecture, “War and the State,” he argues that Clausewitzian war focuses too heavily on the State; that the State is not the only war-making institution. He cites Genghis Khan building an empire to previously unimagined size through war. Nevertheless, the Mongol empire existed only by extorting governments already in place. They were not policymakers unless the policy was to serve more war. “…[T]here are no biographies of Mongol scholars, thinkers, artists, or entrepreneurs…” and
Though they were, in their time, the most powerful people in the world, no political, cultural, or intellectual achievement can be associated with their rule whatsoever. Their society found no place for any man who was not a warrior, and they ended as they began: an army on horseback.
Martin van Creveld used a similar argument as a cornerstone of his book, The Transformation of War, where he coins the term non-trinitarian war (referring to Clausewitz’ trinity).3 One can easily invoke the vast proliferation of terrorist threats since the end of the Cold War to further develop the idea. If war is only for the policymakers, we must omit large swaths of history.
Non-state actors may be able to form and publish policy if they organize, but it is not an essential element of their function as it is for the State. Take, for instance, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). For years, their policy was to gain political representation in the Colombian government. Once they achieved this, they immediately fractionalized into warring criminal parties who would instead hold onto power in their own locales. If war does not serve the policy of the faction that leads it, then it is no use to tie war to policy at all.
When policy serves war
To say that (A) is a continuation of (B) by other means is to say that (A) serves (B) and not vice versa. If, however, the relationship can be mutual, then it must be described in different terms. US military officers quickly accept that war can be an extension of policy because that is how the founding fathers of America placed it within their Constitution. Only Congress can declare war. Even in the US, however, war transcends policy.
US Presidents have found ways to subvert the law for the sake of strategy since Abraham Lincoln declared the emancipation proclamation.4 Harry S. Truman did not ask Congress to declare war to defend Korea. He declared a “police action” justified by UNSC Resolutions 82-84. But it was indeed a war. So, the United States fought a war to serve UN policy instead of its own? Why would that be? In the case of Korea, the policy served the war, and the war served politics. Truman pulled a legal maneuver, using the nascent experiment of the UN to adapt and re-interpret US law to justify a war in Korea. The Obama Administration in 2011, too, adapted policy to serve war that served political objectives. The US Department of Justice drafted a shady distortion of US Law to justify the targeted killing of a US Citizen by drone strike overseas. So, if it is common to adopt policies to fit the war, then war is not solely an extension of policy.
All war serves politics
Politics, in the English language and in modern philosophies, carries something greater with it than policy. Realists view politics as a struggle for power between rational states in an anarchical world order. Liberalists view politics as a function of influence, meant to advance and spread liberal values and interests, and it is to be conducted by individuals, groups, and institutions just as much as states. Constructivists view politics as a product of social fabric that determines the interests of states and causes them to act. So, despite its inputs, the intended outputs of politics are power, influence, or position.
War is then a tool to enable power, influence, or position of the belligerents. It matters not if the belligerents are consistent in their goals. It matters not if the belligerents keep their word once given what they once asked for. If they deem it beneficial for power, influence, or position to maintain a war footing, they will do so. Further, the opposite cannot be true.
Politics, unlike policy, cannot and should not serve war. War expends resources. It trades potential power for actual power. If politics is the struggle for power, then it would be wholly unwise to expend potential power without purpose. It would be as if Jeff Bezos suddenly said that Amazon’s chief goal for the next decade was to spend money and deplete its warehouses, giving no explanation as to why. States and polities must choose their means carefully to achieve their potentially unlimited aspirations. This reality is what George Orwell missed in his fictional world order in 1984 and what prevents escalation into “absolute war.”
Escalating to absolute war
Clausewitz’ primary purpose of tying war to politik was to avoid its escalation into absolute war. The best interpretation of this concept comes from Jan Willem Honig:
The fundamental logic underpinning the necessity of aiming for the enemy's disarmament follows from Clausewitz's argument that escalation… is inherent in the use of force… Logic therefore demands that the act of war, from the moment it starts, involves an instantaneous discharge of violence by which the protagonists aim to make each other defenceless. Clausewitz calls this ‘absolute war’. He chooses this word very deliberately. ‘Absolute’ indicates that this is war ‘absolved’, loosened, set free from reality. Absolute war is a conceptual construct and represents an ideal which can never be achieved in reality. It is important because it helps reveal the fundamental tendency which is inherent in war, but which reality obscures by imposing modifications.5
Politik, according to Clausewitz, is the factor that keeps absolute war from becoming a reality. In the context of this article, we must then ask: between politics and policy, which concept prevents absolute war? The answer is unequivocally politics.
Policy is idealistic. Policy can be corrupted to extremist lengths, enabled by the fanaticism of irrational mobs calling for immediate answers to their problems. Policy is Mutually Assured Destruction. Policy is pre-emptive nuclear strike to protect a red line on a map. Politics tempers policy.
Politics brings reason to the argument. Politics puts ideals into the context of what is achievable. Politics takes into account economics, national resources, and diplomatic standings. It navigates risk and reward. It is the understanding that the threat of Mutually Assured Destruction is necessary, but the action thereof is a death wish. War meant to serve ideals would more likely lead to absolute war than anything else.
***
To some, this demarcation may seem trivial or semantic. Yet, theory is the foundation of everything we do. Hence why such an obsession with Clausewitz’ ideas overtakes discussions about war. Theory must serve practice. Whether or not it takes the form of universal law, theory should base itself on logic and utility. Translating theory should honor the original intent, as so many scholars have attempted to do with Clausewitz, but then we must move on and form our own theories. Logically, war serves politics and shares a complicated relationship with policy. Practically, we must view it this way to ensure our wars are fought responsibly and with sound strategy, always bearing in mind the relation between our limited means and our potentially unlimited ends.
Carl von Clausewitz, On War, (Start Publishing LLC, 2013), Para. 24, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/kcl/detail.action?docID=1183460.
“Leberkäse,” translated literally as liver cheese, has neither liver nor cheese in its making (though your guess is as good as mine as to the absolute truth).
Martin Van Creveld, Transformation of War, (United Kingdom: Free Press, 2009), 49-50.
John Lewis Gaddis, On Grand Strategy (United States: Penguin Publishing Group, 2018), 239-252.
Jan Willem Honig, “Clausewitz’s On War: Problems of Text and Translation,” in Hew Strachan and Andreas Herberg-Rothe (eds), Clausewitz in the Twenty-First Century (Oxford, 2007; online edn, Oxford Academic, 1 Jan. 2008), https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199232024.003.0004.