Author: Ambershay Cooper

By Capt Olivia A. Garard

I think the herculean effort by Max Brooks et al. in Strategy Strikes Back to decompose the Star Wars universe tactically, operationally, and strategically is a unique and commendable application of current concepts to a fictional universe. Filtering how we think about war and conflict within a robust, yet imaginary, universe allows us to see the same thing but through a different perspective. It’s as Emily Dickinson wrote, “Tell all the truth but tell it slant.” Fiction gives us just such an avenue to study truthfully, yet canted and morphed by the logic of an alternate world. Like a good tactical decision game (TDG) it probes the intellect beyond which one might think is possible or probable, exposing creativity and training coup d’œils.  

For instance, BJ Armstrong’s “The Right Fleet: Starships for Strategic Purpose” considers how force design and architecture determines, to some extent, the kinds of operations on which a force, like the Imperial fleet, can embark. The adage, if all you have is a hammer everything you see is a nail, is an extreme instantiation of just this principle. Armstrong notes that most involved with force design focus on answering the question, “what type of force is needed to seize the initiative and dominate the enemy.”[1] This is mission focused, as it should be. However, Armstrong balances that question with another, what are the implications of “operations and responsibilities in peace” for force design and architecture.[2]

The nuance is critical to grasp. As we expect and seek to operate in the gray zone – or below the level of armed conflict, or whatever buzzword we’re currently using to describe skirmishes and shuffling that is not open, conventional (and/or nuclear) conflict between great powers – options are different from what they would be in easily identifiable and definable war. The Imperial fleet, according to Armstrong, failed to appreciate just this nuance. The Imperial fleet didn’t understand its responsibilities in peace – “[its] constabulary duties” – and, consequently, “created an improper architecture [that] resulted in vital gaps in capability.”[3] It is important to note that responsibilities in peace is a factor of particular naval character, à la Mahan. Naval operations uniquely scale from tactical to political (and diplomatic and economic). Recently, counter-insurgency has brought this scaling to fore for land operations, but its history is distinctly naval.

As the Marine Corps interrogates itself and its purpose again, it is worth remembering these two questions: what is the force design and architecture that is needed to defeat the enemy and how does that correspond to actions and responsibilities in peace? Though these questions may seem mutually exclusive, they need not be.[4] In another recent work by Armstrong, Small Boast and Daring Men: Maritime Raiding, Irregular Warfare, and the Early American Navy (which I highly recommend all Marines read) Armstrong underscores the challenge faced creating the force design that was necessary to embark upon guerre de razzia, a third form of naval war beyond guerre de course and guerre d’escadre.[5] He writes:

When navies create fleets based on their aspirational pursuit of glorious and decisive blue-water engagements, small ships fall aside as financial limitations make them appear superfluous. This combined with the political debates over the size, funding, and roles of the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps during the era [the Age of the Sail] resulted in a lack of formal procurement policy that would support the small vessels needed for irregular success.[6]

What Armstrong highlights here, and what he noted with the Imperial fleet, is how conceptual gaps correspond to actual gaps. A full understanding of the kinds of wars on which are to embark, to paraphrase Clausewitz, balanced by responsibilities in times of peace, is crucial to ensure that the organizational structure is actually established to support. It resonates, too, as the Marine Corps reflects on what its own right force design should be given guidance from the National Defense Strategy and the reorientation towards great power conflict.

Armstrong’s article was insightful and clever as were the other chapters within Strategy Strikes Back. And like the debates over the proper order to watch the Star Wars series, given that each chapter is standalone, one can start in the middle before reading the beginning, or pick and choose as one pleases.

---

[1] BJ Armstrong, “The Right Fleet: Starships for Strategic Purpose,” Strategy Strikes Back: How Star Wars Explains Modern Military Conflict, ed. Max Brooks, John Amble, ML Cavanaugh, and Jaym Gates, (Potomac Books of the University of Nebraska Press: 2018), 81.

[2] Ibid., 82.

[3] Ibid., 86.

[4] See, LtCol Scott Cuomo, Capt Olivia Garard, Maj Jeff Cummings, and LtCol Noah Spataro, “Not Yet Openly at War, But Still Mostly as Peace: Exploit the opportunity to become the 21^st century force that our Nation needs,” Marine Corps Gazette, February 2019, Web Edition.

[5] BJ Armstrong, Small Boats and Daring Men: Maritime Raiding, Irregular Warfare, and the Early American Navy, (Norman, University of Oklahoma Press: 2019), 13.

[6] Ibid., 194.

By Major Nick Brunetti-Lihach

The title of this blog post may more accurately describe the chapters in the book. While large portions deal directly with the various strategic approaches in the films (and novels/television series), many pages are devoted to tactics and battlefield engagements. Regardless, Strategy Strikes Back (SSB) was an enjoyable read, with a little bit for everyone. Although some chapters included micro-detail of the Star Wars universe, such as an analysis and critique of the Gungan “military” of Naboo.

In Part I, perhaps the best chapter is the first, Jim Golby’s The Jedi and the Senate. It is a fascinating take on the Jedi’s culpability in the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire. The author’s clever description of the Jedi’s hubris and aloofness offers a sober lesson for seasoned veterans who might suffer from overconfidence or complacency. Senior civilian policy makers and military strategists may find some parallels ring true, or even darkly echo reality. But one hopes not. Daniel D. Maurer’s chapter Civil-Military Relationships in Star Wars offers similar cautionary tales worth reflection. Other chapters consider more narrow views, such as the military utility of General Grievous and his vulture droids – less directly applicable to strategy.

Part 2 Preparation for War considers many choices the Rebels and Empire made to man, train and equip. Mick Ryan’s How Not to Build an Army describes the “Imperial death spiral” following losses of warships and troops, eventually replenishing the ranks from its academies. This observation is reminiscent of the Imperial Japanese pilot losses in World War II, one factor in the steep decline of its aviation force.

BJ Armstrog’s The Right Fleet presents a cogent analysis of the Empire’s choice of large space craft to fight and win decisive battles in space. He then points out the Empire’s limited ability to project power ashore (aplanet?), which requires a “different set of forces and operational concepts.” His words obviously call to mind the writings of Mahan and Corbett, which are quite applicable to Star Wars in many ways, as an eerily similar debate regarding naval assets continues today in 2019.

In Part 3 Waging War, Andrew Liptak’s The Battle of Hoth initially comes off as an operational/tactical example. After all, many military professionals would critique the Empire’s frontal assault on the Rebel’s fortified defensive position. Here Clausewitzian chance also plays a role when Luke goes missing, and the search and rescue team tips off Imperial sensors. However, Liptak also calls into question the Empire’s decision to engage the Rebels on Hoth with limited intelligence and inadequate forces. An alternate approach would have been sea (space) denial, or blockade.

In Part 4 Assessment of War, Chapter 22 is highly effective. Within the pages of Darth Vader’s Failed Counterinsurgency Strategy, the reader cannot help but find the many parallels to The Vietnam War, and the policy and strategy debates between civilian and military leaders described in books such as Halberstam’s Best and Brightest, McMaster’s Dereliction of Duty, or Sorley’s A Better War.

Chapter 23 is yet another interesting – and entertaining – critique of the Jedi. John Spencer reminds the reader that a high-end capability such as a Jedi may still only be effective at the tactical level. In other words, a decorated veteran is not necessarily a suitable galactic strategist – or even general.

Finally, there are two historical comparisons that probably should have made it into the book. The first is Napoleon’s over-stretched empire and army, which broke its back upon an unsuccessful invasion of Russia. The parallel being the over-stretched Empire across the galaxy policing Rebels and smugglers with virtually no political, ethnic or religious ties. The second is the military rule/governance of Hindenburg and Ludendorff during World War I, who also exerted near-total control over the German government and economy. Palpatine and Vader ruled by fiat, viewing everything through a military lens. Much as Ludendorff (Vader) was tactically brilliant, the strategic and operational approach lacked sophistication.

In summary, this book is worth reading for military professionals who are at least moderately familiar with the Star Wars canon. While not directly applicable to the average Marine, it is thought-provoking, and often introduces the reader to many big names and ideas in the world of strategy, if not operations, tactics, acquisition, and policy.

By William Treuting

As an admitted fan of the Star Wars Clone War Era, I enjoyed ML Cavanaugh’s evaluation of Yoda as a strategist. I agree with many aspects the argument: Yoda’s intelligence failed to detect the nature of the Sith and their role in the rising threat of the Trade Federation, the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and the transition into the Galactic Empire. Without proper intelligence, Yoda was subsequently outmaneuvered and his institution was destroyed beneath him. 

The issue that I have with this chapter was how it chose to contextualize Yoda’s actions, his role as the leader of the Jedi Order, and the nature of the enemy. Both political and military strategies are presented in unison. The author states, “If Yoda had performed relatively better than Palpatine as a strategist, then the Jedi and Republic would have at least survived and not fallen to the Empire.” However, Palpatine was not a military opponent, but a political threat to the Galactic Republic. The author portrays Yoda’s political ineptness as intertwined with his military abilities, which distorts the analysis of him as a military strategist. Additionally, the chapter opens up a potential debate into the nature of a civil-military relationship that is not addressed.

Although the Sith were the sworn enemy of the Jedi Order, the purpose of the Jedi was not solely to battle the Sith; rather, it was to preserve and defend the Galactic Republic. The Jedi were bound to defend a democratic institution in the same manner in which members of the United States military swear to uphold and defend the Constitution. While not a military order, the Jedi were trained in military tactics and strategies to be employed when necessary (this is why many Jedi are referred to as “General” by the clone-troopers). Given this understanding, the role of the Jedi can be equated to that of an officer corps in our society (although a very hands on, “lead from the front,” officer corps). Thus, while it was the Jedi’s personal mission to destroy the Sith, Yoda was still bound to serve the whims of a democratic institution. It was this democratic institution that appointed Palpatine as the Supreme Chancellor and later gave him the emergency power to raise an army. Palpatine did not become emperor by force; the democratic institution surrendered its power to him. Under these circumstance, how was Yoda—a servant to the Galactic Republic—supposed to defend an institution that was entirely willing to destroy itself.

Furthermore, the author notes how Yoda failed to prevent the destruction of the Jedi after Palpatine issued the infamous Order 66. If we accept the notion that the Jedi were members of the Galactic Republic’s officer corps, then Order 66 is more akin to an internal military purge—reminiscent of Stalin’s purge of the Red Army—rather than an attack from an external enemy. Again, under these circumstances, how was Yoda—a servant to the Galactic Republic—supposed to defend the Jedi Order from the same institution they were sworn to protect. This begs the questions: how was Yoda supposed to defend the Republic under these circumstances? How are military leaders, sworn to defend democratic principles, supposed to act when the democratic institution begins to subvert itself? The implications behind these questions brings up a discussion of the civil-military relationship in a democracy that the author fails to properly address. 

This chapter would be better served if it oriented itself toward examining Yoda as a military strategist. The author’s comment regarding Yoda’s failure to capture Count Dooku in Episode II brings up an interesting argument regarding the moral dilemma that commanders face in life-and-death situations. Additionally, the Clone Wars television series offers a plethora of case studies to examine Yoda’s abilities as a military strategist. While I can agree that Yoda failed as a political strategist, there is more to be discussed regarding his ability as a military leader. 

By Maj Scott Humr

In Strategy Strikes Back: How Star Wars Explains Modern Military Strategy (SSB), a parade of authors use the Star Wars series of films for helping to interpret modern military strategy. While Star Wars provides a simplification that can be easy to understand, it leaves out many aspects that would confront the modern military strategist.

All models of complex systems are flawed but are still useful, someone has quipped. Modeling helps identify the most important aspects of a complex system and their interactions. The use of Star Wars throughout SSB could at most only provides a 1 to 2-dimensional view of the complexities of strategies taken. Modern military strategists have the unenviable task of making sense of all actors and their interactions in current multi-domain warfare. The use of Star Wars in SSB was indeed a simplification of the complexities faced/used by modern military strategists. The Star Wars universe has to simplify complexity down to a range of narrow options either side could take, otherwise, you would likely lose an audience quickly (especially my kids!). I enjoyed how some authors in SSB astutely pointed out the monolithic approach the Empire could take toward defeating the Rebels and the close kinship US strategy might have with the Empire in some instances (e.g. Star Destroyers compared to Navy carriers). The lessons drawn from SSB are still important for us to think about as we think about future operating environments.

We have to admit we can all suffer from the tyranny of knowledge. Interestingly, the subtitle of SSB implies there is a direction of explanation (i.e. Star Wars explains modern mil-strat). Let’s be honest, George Lucas and other cinematographers of Star Wars are equally informed by their own knowledge of military history, which colors their portrayal of military conflict through Star Wars. Hence, Star Wars can look a lot like other military operations (circular). Helpful? Perhaps. Entertaining to contemplate? Yes. Even in a galaxy far, far away Thucydides honor, fear, and national interest still seem to apply.

The vignettes that demonstrated clear connections to current and future military strategies were more instructive. The essays that used creative interpretations for dialogue not spoken in the movies were enjoyable to contemplate. Many different dialogues could have taken place, but in the end, it helped open up different possibilities for thinking through the issues.

The book did the job of broadening some of my own perspectives on military technologies and strategy. My mind immediately went into thinking about how Star Wars portrays artificial intelligence, human-machine teaming, and swarming technologies and how the US military might follow a similar or different approach. A sequel to SSB could easily spend 300 pages on those alone. Nevertheless, SSB helped elucidate the challenges with technologies and faulty approaches to a centralization of control (e.g. Order 66-rogue malware, droids being controlled by a mother ship-cloud computing, Darth Vader’s leadership style-toxic leadership, etc.).

I would recommend the book with confidence to all ranks to help expand one’s thinking about problems. Overall, the benefit of Star Wars is the deep fan base, which lends itself to the use of many idioms that transcend militaries and cultures—a communication and leadership tool par excellence.