Military Discipline, Political Pressure, and the Post-Cold War World
Casey, P. C., The World and I
No one wants to contemplate what would happen if America were to send its soldiers into a situation that they were unprepared to meet. We have done that more than once in our history. We do not care to do it again. Yet, we may be risking exactly that--not just through the usual comparisons of the growing Balkan conflict with Vietnam's gradual escalation--but more insidiously through having dismantled the means by which our forces control lethal violence.
We are accustomed to discussing military readiness in material terms. But what about that which Sun-tzu and Maj. Gen. Carl von Clausewitz both emphasized as first among the factors in war? What about moral influence and its by-product, military discipline? Are the American armed forces capable of matching the dedication-to-cause that the Serbs are demonstrating? Can we sustain a slogging ground war against an enemy capable of going to extreme lengths to achieve its objectives?
The case is dubious at best.
Over the last ten years, PC politics and entrenched Cold War survivalism have prevented America's defense leadership from refitting military philosophy to meet the very different military environment of the post--Cold War world. Instead, these leaders have clung doggedly to total war premises, arguing from the familiar and failing to appreciate the true implications of communism's collapse. As a result, senior military leaders have caved in to domestic pressure for sweeping force structure changes to keep funding for high-cost weapons systems that have difficulty discriminating between trucks and tractors. In the process, the principles beneath military discipline have been attacked, maligned, and in many cases, completely discarded. Stripped of many of those principles that classically provided restraint within war's violence, the All- Volunteer Force now struggles along without effective replacements, making moral influence and military discipline highly questionable.
Ironically, at the same time, the post--Cold War environment has rendered the highest levels of military discipline essential. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall, U.S. military missions have increased astronomically in both number and complexity. From patrolling in the war against drugs to humanitarian relief in Somalia to political stabilization in Haiti to peacekeeping in Bosnia to conventional containment in Iraq and Korea to the current attempt to stop genocide from the air, we demand that our forces be ready for anything. Yet, none of these contingencies involve the "survival" rationales that make the use of deadly force relatively straightforward for soldiers.
To make matters worse, the international press corps seems determined to hold NATO forces to an astronomically high standard for behavior on the battlefield. Just witness the NATO briefing of the convoy bombing in southwest Kosovo and its aftermath. If the politicians governing the crisis become even more reactive to criticism over collateral damage while pressure to eject the Serb army from Kosovo increases, then NATO will have to send in ground forces.
All this means that we are likely to send our soldiers into an enormously complex moral environment. To understand this point better, consider that as today's high-tech forces have put tremendously destructive firepower into the hands of increasingly junior leaders, the changing nature of their missions has elevated these same young leaders to the level of semi-independent instruments of foreign policy.1 More and more, they find themselves having to assess morally complex situations and act instantly in ways that will not only accomplish the mission but do it without damaging the international status of the United States. America's reputation often comes to lie in a corporal's hands. One morally false step may have a profound impact as live television broadcasts that corporal's actions around the world via satellite.
With operational areas saturated in civilians and missions grounded in political rather than survival justifications, the potential for disaster is extreme. Military scholar Sam Sarkesian warns us of just how complex these circumstances can become for that corporal: "We need to be clear about these implications because they require us to adhere to moral and legal standards not likely to be shared by our opponents in the grim arena of low-intensity conflict."2 In other words, potential "enemies" may do things our soldiers may not. And they may do them deliberately to provoke "immoral" responses from our soldiers. That is a principal objective in guerrilla and terrorist tactics--to exploit the moral ambiguities of their target's acts. So, even if the corporal's response were to fall technically within specified rules of engagement (legal standards), they could still generate global outrage (moral standards) and force political reaction at the highest levels.
Thus, to be effective and just in the post--Cold War world, the U.S. armed forces need the means for regulating their use of force in morally chaotic environments. We call those means "military discipline."
The concept of military discipline is one of the greatest sources of confusion among professionals and laymen alike. Contrary to popular belief, military discipline has nothing to do with blind obedience to orders. Rather, blind obedience to orders is the hallmark of militarism, a psychosis in modern militaries. If soldiers were to obey all orders without thinking, especially without considering the moral ramifications of those orders, a host of undesirable consequences would result.
Among the first of these malfunctions is that units would have enormous difficulty operating independently--a key requirement in post--Cold War missions. Historically, blind obedience to orders has cobbled the ability to exploit an enemy's mistakes and has undermined the confidence necessary to act appropriately without guidance.
Another dysfunction in militarism is its tendency to create automatons. When ordered to "clear a village of the enemy," militarism's moral morons have trouble seeing the distinction between combatants and civilians, making the likelihood of atrocities tremendous. To ensure the just use of military force requires that every soldier possess the strength of character to question, to challenge, and even to defy orders when appropriate. For not only may the nation have to live with the consequences of a habit of obedience to immoral orders, but the individual soldier may have to as well. Long-term studies of posttraumatic stress disorder among Vietnam veterans bear this out.3
An atmosphere of militarism, where blind obedience to orders is the norm, also tends to breed military incompetence. Militarism's leaders often fail to act with appropriate imagination, become deadened to the fate of their subordinates, and usually look outside themselves for the source of their mistakes. 4 This being the case, militarism is the last thing needed for meeting the moral complexities of the post--Cold War world.
Rather than associating military discipline with the blind obedience of goose- stepping automatons so prevalent in popular myth, we must understand it as referring to the absorption and consistent use of those principles that ensure both proportionate aggression and appropriate restraint in military missions. The "release aggression, restrain excess" paradox within the "ordered application of force"5 is the beating heart of military discipline.
Classically, only a set of discreet principles has proven effective in meeting the requirements of this paradox. When unpolluted by militarism, these principles can create tremendously positive results through the development of the military virtues. Moreover, military philosophy, as embodied in these principles, can generate loyal obedience to superiors without sacrificing the moral courage to question their orders. This philosophy--unique in its adaptation for military violence's paradox--is the military's primary means for the prevention of militarism.
But why would the military need a philosophy different from democracy's?
Because few people, individualistic Americans included, inherently possess the moral courage to question authority. The famous Milgram experiments published in 1963 demonstrated that most Americans automatically obey authority--to the point of inflicting life-threatening pain upon others."6 The majority of us are predisposed to obey immoral orders. This means that the average recruit is predisposed to become the automaton of popular myth. And as if this weren't enough of a challenge for the military in preventing militarism, Norman Dixon reports,
"it has been shown that whereas low-stressed groups, operating in situations that are devoid of painful uncertainties, do best under democratic leadership, organizations like the military in times of war that are subject to stressing ambiguities actually prefer autocratic leadership."7"
So obedience to authority is hardly a problem. Limiting and shaping that obedience is. The challenge of entry-level military training and all subsequent professional development is ensuring that obedience to authority is executed only when appropriate and questioned when not. That means developing moral courage--one of the military virtues.
This one aspect of military discipline may help us to see that the military virtues go far beyond the physical courage and stamina we commonly associate with them. Among military discipline's most indispensable virtues are moral courage, honesty, integrity, loyalty, fortitude, and dedication.
Honor, however, is not among the military virtues. Rather, it is an abstract concept encompassing both internal character and external reputation, measured on several levels simultaneously: personal, professional, and national. Military honor, therefore, springs from the consistent display of the military virtues. The professional and national measures of military honor explain why the character failure of an individual within a military organization can wreak such havoc. A single member's personal character failure implies some sort of military service failure in developing the virtues necessary for controlling the awesome power over life and death that defines the profession. Thus, dishonor, scandal, and political disaster are the fruits of indiscipline.
Character development, then, is the primary obligation of military organizations. The hardware is secondary; for only through developing military discipline and its virtues can military institutions ensure both the resolve needed for victory and the restraint required for justice and sanity.
Acquiring military discipline, however, is neither simple nor straightforward. To instill military discipline in their members, the armed forces rely upon a broad range of means and methods, beginning in basic training and continuing through an entire career's worth of contacts. Military scholar Jonathan Shay explains it this way:
"Any army, ancient or modern, is a social construction defined by shared expectations and values. Some of these are embodied in formal regulations, defined authority, written orders, ranks, incentives, punishments, and formal task and occupational definitions. Others circulate as traditions, archetypal stories of things to be emulated or shunned and accepted truth about what is praiseworthy and what is culpable. Altogether, these form a moral world that most of the participants most of the time regard as legitimate, "natural," and personally building. The moral power of an army is so great that it can motivate men to get up out of a trench and step into enemy machine-gun fire."8"
The catch is that, to create that kind of moral power, those social forms and traditions require a coherent philosophical outlook. Taken together, battlefield-born principles create a philosophy that gives the required context to the military's moral world and provides the framework upon which military discipline hangs. Without those principles, standards become confused, purpose grows obscure, cohesion dissolves, and the resulting moral contradictions create a dissonance that in or after combat can devastate those who risk all in commitment to an unsound philosophy. To say nothing of what it does to retention in peacetime.
Unfortunately, despite the dramatic change in military threat since the end of the Cold War, military leaders have avoided reviewing the philosophical basis of U.S. military discipline. The assumption has been that, despite the problems it generated in Vietnam, the old survivalist philosophy would work in the new environment. Content to believe that the nature of military operations had not fundamentally changed,9 our military leaders have not made the shift from a survival war (aka total war) mentality to a philosophy designed to meet the new, more morally demanding reality.
Yet, with the fall of the Soviet empire, the rationales based on survivalism have become obsolete. Excusing excessive violence under the twin rubrics of "survival" and "necessity" no longer resonate. The rise of democratic governments, humanitarian ideals, and human rights consciousness has brought with them a demand to revamp battlefield conduct rationales and to take an honest look at the principles that make military discipline possible. For military missions in this environment necessitate extremely high levels of restraint--something survival war philosophy does not. Justifying the conduct of military operations, because of their altered nature, has become every bit as important as the reasons for military intervention.
Regrettably, familiarity with the philosophical principles that make the restrained application of force possible has withered from neglect. For forty- five years, survival war rationales trumped every criticism of ethics, policy, or structure. Since survival could excuse excess all the way to targeting civilians with nuclear weapons, it was not the quality of our soldiers' characters that counted within a military organization. Acquiring large numbers of people to meet "the threat" and training their leaders not to hesitate when ordered to launch nuclear weapons was the primary philosophical focus. So often were survival rationales, and the fears that generated them, used as trump cards to shape military structure and thinking that few have bothered to question their validity in recent years--even in the face of their obsolescence.
Domestic politics during the 1990s have greatly exacerbated the problem.
First, Congress' demand for a "peace dividend" sent the military budget into a free fall during the mid-1990s.10 Competition between the services for shrinking defense dollars fueled an undignified brawl. In some quarters, it bred a near- paranoia over the continued existence of whole branches of military service. The Army panicked over lost divisions and burned over the Marine Corps' three- division/wing team mandate. The Navy fretted over lost ships and freaked out over Air Force arguments that piracy could be controlled from the air. As a result of this fiscal survival war, a sales-package mentality based in market concepts, easily understood on Capitol Hill and long part of Cold War military thinking,11 gripped the Pentagon. In this atmosphere of "service survival," the philosophical principles making restraint possible became irresistible bargaining chips.
The election of 1992 widened the gap between the post--Cold War demand for discipline and the All-Volunteer Force. With the election came a radical shift in political fashion. Fringe groups with agendas impacting military structure and policy suddenly found themselves with unprecedented influence. The combination of fiscal paranoia, scandal-based bad press, and new political appointees in key policymaking posts within the Department of Defense made these new groups' power formidable indeed.
The demand for the military to match fashionable civilian "values" opened an all-out attack on those structures naturally resulting from the principles of discipline. As a result, special interest--group agendas could openly attack the roots of military discipline and label "archaic" many of its critical principles.
The homosexual issue was fought only to an unhappy truce, but the Tailhook scandal provided extremely effective ammunition for the women-in-combat issue. The latter demonstrated what B.H. Liddell Hart called "the strategy of the indirect approach."12 Proponents of women in combat were able to highlight militarism's misconduct rather than directly attack the principles that had always kept women out of combat billets. Forced by habit to argue from survival war rationales, the senior leadership was unfamiliar with the arguments that could successfully defend classical structuring. So they surrendered key principles with barely an objection.
The Department of Defense announced the resulting philosophical metamorphosis in its Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute publication Women in the Military with a quote from Jean Zimmerman's Tailspin: "What has been established in the aftermath of Tailhook is a different more durable formula. ... it serves to dismantle the divided hegemonic culture of two classes--the protectors and the protected."13
All claims within this highly inflammatory statement, especially the one for durability, are dubious at best. For history offers no precedents and philosophy presents no battlefield-effective principles to replace what was really "dismantled." At the very least, the two campaigns have forced the final and complete collapse of those principles that made today's unenforceable antifraternization regulations unnecessary.
That the reformers' demands for career opportunities, equity, individualism, and democracy's values poison the self-sacrificing core of military discipline mattered to few in the top echelons of power. With the expectations of militarism's myopia, they demanded blind obedience and imposed a morale-sapping confusion upon the force, even though most uniformed military leaders knew that "the military cannot govern itself in accordance with the principles of justice and liberalism that characterize the very society it defends. ... experience has taught us that certain behavior is destructive of good order, discipline, and morale without which a military organization will certainly fail."14"
Thus, the much-needed post--Cold War review of the principles of discipline failed to materialize in America due to an extraordinary confluence of political pressure and a generation of military leaders conditioned to Cold War rationales. Unable to adjust their reasoning and blind to the logic needed to resist inappropriate change, military leaders allowed near total civilianization of the military--despite the rising need for improved military discipline. The result has been the adoption of an extremely complex moral paradigm full of contradictions and mutually exclusive values.
The problems with discipline resulting from the contradictions inherent in this confusing new moral paradigm were not long in manifesting themselves.
First to react was the Marine Corps. With an intuitive, although still flawed, understanding of the roots of discipline, the Corps sought to infuse into its ranks a common vision as a basis for discipline. For this, Corps leaders instituted the Core Values Program with its triad values of "honor, courage and commitment."
Regrettably, the program is not what it could be. Whereas an honest and open review of the principles of military discipline might have provided the needed surgery, the Core Values Program has been but another Band-Aid among a thousand Band-Aids being applied to a shrapnel wound. Worse yet, the Core Values Program is an inadequate bandage in that it relies upon common flaws in the therapy model of modern thinking.
The first of these flaws is that--as Robert Bellah, Gertrude Himmelfarb, Allan Bloom, and others have observed--values is a market term. Friedrich Nietzsche, in his advocacy of nihilism, was the first to use the word values as a replacement for the concepts of morals and virtues. In truth, values are negotiable items--of no greater worth than other values. We measure worth solely by utility or by whimsy. Values are relative to the momentary need and dispensable when no longer of immediate use. What we value today may be worthless tomorrow. As such, values cannot substitute for principles as the source of virtuous behavior. Values cannot stand in the face of moral ambiguity or against moral contradiction. Nor can values generate virtues. Values lack the solidity and moral certitude necessary for people to change who they are--to acquire discipline. And the military virtues, with their need for steadfast solidity against the horrors of war, demand the most change from individuals and the greatest degree of discipline.15
The second flaw lies in how the Marine Corps determined what its core values were. Researcher Pete Bowen discovered that the "core values were chosen because they happen to be common values among the different people from different backgrounds entering the Marine Corps."16 Searching for common values among recruits bears no relationship to the battlefield or the virtues needed there. If this method were to have any validity at all, the survey ought to have been drawn from experienced soldiers--those who know what it takes to release aggression while restraining excess.
The third flaw stemming from this approach is that two of these "values" (courage and commitment) are really virtues, while the third (honor) is a concept so misunderstood as to be difficult to define, even by those responsible for writing the programs for their units.17 To make this point clearer, consider a commitment to a drug gang. Is that a virtue? It's a commitment. The context and the principle are what determine that a behavior pattern is virtuous. As these are in ruins for the military, the Core Values Program can do little but generate confusion in morally chaotic environments.
Deeply sunk in its own problems integrating women aboard combat ships, the Navy was quick to seize upon this apparent life preserver and adopt it as its own, confusion and all. One hears it daily in the Navy's television recruitment ads. Although these ads are an improvement on the Navy's old market-based campaigns, they nevertheless fail to communicate what is meant by "Bring along your honor, courage and commitment." Again, bring along your gang's honor? The courage mustered for unsafe sex? A commitment to self-advancement? The call is so amorphous as to make anyone want to channel-surf.
The Army, content with its own market-based ads--touting self-serving motives, college money, and technical skills--continues to rely on its age-old motto of "duty, honor, country." Never mind that twenty years ago that motto tended to inspire militarism in West Point cadets:
"Most West Pointers are conditioned to perceive their obedience to lawful superiors as the highest form of duty. Such a perception is regarded as the essence of military professionalism, for it involves putting personal considerations beneath service, duty above self. When there is a conflict between what a West Pointer calls duty and honor, then he is likely to have no ethical answers. Or rather he is trained to answer by equating honor with duty.18"
This interpretation of duty differs little from the defense used by many of the soldiers who committed atrocities at My Lai.
On the furthest end of the philosophical scale, the Air Force has openly renounced any attempt to mold the character of its soldiers. In its recently published ethics program, it states: "Our first task is to fix organizations; individual character development is possible, but is not a goal."19 By focusing on organizations, the Air Force has chosen to scorn the moral interdependence that makes a military force disciplined. No wonder Kelly Flinn felt her oath as an officer (taken before her training as a pilot) had no relevance to her service in uniform. All that mattered in her mind were her technical skills at flying B--52s and dropping bombs. Such is the ultimate in Cold War rationality. The restraint that virtue inspires is irrelevant to instruments of mass destruction--especially to the human element controlling those instruments.
HISTORY AND THE POST--COLD WAR WORLD
So what does this collapse of military philosophy portend in the post--Cold War world? And where can we look for insight?
The contradictions and lack of moral clarity resulting from these "thousand Band-Aids" or "let it bleed" approaches have left the wounds of Vietnam to fester. It's so much easier to believe that the triumph of the Gulf War closed that regrettable chapter in American history. Easier, but a mistake. The moral ambiguities of Vietnam give us ample warning of the enormous risks to be found in post--Cold War military missions. Vietnam already taught us that philosophical confusion leads to atrocity, to the loss of indigenous support and to lifelong combat trauma for our soldiers.
Today the moral ambiguities may be even worse. For few greater sources of moral contradiction and confusion exist than when a humanitarian mission becomes a peacemaking mission on global television, as it did in Somalia. Or when peacekeeping becomes peace enforcement, as it has in Yugoslavia.
Vietnam provides critical lessons not just because of its inadequate rationales for engaging in war but more importantly because of its difficulties with the conduct of warfare. These issues were not new then. They are not new now. They are almost as old as war itself. The ancient Chinese struggled with them as much as the Europeans did. But to condense a complex topic into a single paragraph, let's confine the historic point to the Western tradition with which most of us are familiar.
When the Roman Empire first encountered the barbarians, Saint Augustine saw the potential threat and decided to resuscitate earlier notions of fighting a "just war." To do this, he had to generate philosophical compromises between Greek virtue-ethics, Judaic tradition, and Christian pacifism. His work changed Christianity forever, yet provided Rome with the rationales it needed to defend itself while remaining "Christian." Later, Charlemagne borrowed from Saint Augustine to inaugurate the age of chivalry. Centuries after that, Thomas Aquinas and Father Suarez elaborated on the "just war tradition" and attempted to clarify the philosophical basis for the conduct of war. But their work came too late. All too soon, ideas like those of Niccolo Machiavelli and Cardinal Richelieu took hold to create the modern era of politics and war.
The experience of World War II gave many a sense of the need to revitalize and update the just war tradition. Before this could happen, however, the Cold War intervened with its survival rationales, trapping the modernization of just war theory in a horrible bog. International law and global democracy through the United Nations attempted to struggle along despite this, but the effort was inadequate to say the least."20 Thus, America went into Southeast Asia, not only with questionable war aims but also with a muddied philosophical basis for the discipline of its armed forces. Like today, we were addressing a nonsurvival conflict with a military philosophy shaped by the all-out survival mentality of the Cold War.
In Vietnam, the harsh realities of having to kill proved the Cold War rationales of the day inadequate for what our soldiers faced. Getting shot at was bad enough. Killing was even worse. The closer one got to the killing, the worse the psychological trauma.21 When the killing involved women and children, the ability of the Vietnam veteran to continue seeing himself as a good, virtuous, and moral person often began to dissolve. And if the soldier's wife or girlfriend sent him a "Dear John" letter, the rejection often seemed a validation of the horrible thing he was beginning to believe he had become. The social rejection of being spat upon and called "baby-killer" upon his return to the United States could then shatter what little remained of the soldier's identity as a moral being.
Many have suffered ever since from the resulting character wounds--devastating wounds that simply will not heal. Theirs are not just "psychological" wounds, but deep wounds of philosophical betrayal resulting in a complete loss of social trust. Both the moral paradigm they went into the military with and the one acquired in the military failed them, so many no longer trust any social construct.
Herein lies the heart of the matter. To become a soldier requires shifting from the moral paradigm of killing as criminal to one where killing can be a moral act. To make this shift requires an almost religious trust in the leadership that "sells" them this new paradigm and that will send them into combat with it. When that same leadership betrays the principles of that paradigm in war, the consequences are devastating.22 Thus, the philosophical basis of military discipline must derive from and be sustainable in combat while being steadfastly upheld by all within the institutional hierarchy. The moral paradigm of military discipline must be shaped to serve the moral chaos of war, not the whimsical fashions of civilian idealism. Military philosophy must be able to inspire the virtues that will stand firm in war, in peace, and in the morally ambiguous environments of post--Cold War missions.
The irony is that classic military philosophy can do this because the virtues it inspires are really universal virtues. As Gen. John Hackett put it,
"What Arnold Tynbee used to call the military virtues--fortitude, endurance, loyalty, courage, and so on--these are good qualities in any collection of men and enrich the society in which they are prominent. But in the military society, they are functional necessities, which is something quite, quite different. I mean a man can be false, fleeting, perjured, in every way corrupt, and be a brilliant mathematician, or one of the world's greatest painters. But there's one thing he can't be, and that is a good soldier, sailor or airman.23"
The lesson ought to be obvious. When the philosophical basis of a military institution is sound, a soldier stands a good chance of becoming a better person for having adopted military principles and having allowed them to become the basis of his character.24 The virtues they inspire will serve him well in war, in peace, and in everything in between.
But should the principles given not be adequate to the job--either because they are not suited to battle's harsh realities or because they are misinterpreted (militarism)--then all the failures of military performance can emerge. These breakdowns range from defeat, atrocity, war crimes, desertion, and many forms of combat trauma to a peacetime rise in internal crime and militarism accompanied by plummeting levels of recruitment and retention.
That America's military should be demonstrating the latter set of dysfunctions at the same time the post--Cold War world is demanding extremely high levels of discipline may become one of history's greatest ironies. It could also become one of history's greatest tragedies.
As the Balkan crisis blossoms into a regional conflict, U.S. forces could find themselves drawn even deeper into the crossfire of ethnic violence where true military discipline is indispensable. For "low-intensity conflict is basically a struggle for people's minds. ... And in such a battle, psychological operations are more important than firepower. ... Insurgencies, therefore, are primarily political and psychological struggles; military considerations are secondary."25 We learned this in Vietnam, Beirut, and El Salvador. We cannot depend upon today's insurgents, terrorists, and genocidal armies being less clever. In fact, they are even more likely to exploit morally complex situations now that global news broadcasts can maximize their psychological effect.
Therefore, America's military forces today must be capable of inflicting maximum force while demonstrating the restraint dictated by complex rules of engagement. To meet that challenge requires that our soldiers embody all the classic military virtues--integrity, courage (both physical and moral), honesty, loyalty, fortitude, and "audacity coupled with restraint." In short, they must possess all the traits of military discipline untainted by militarism.
But to ensure that those virtues can be instilled in our soldiers, the American military needs a simple, coherent, and rock-solid philosophy capable of meeting the moral chaos of war without losing its strength. And we must also have military leaders willing to lay their stars on the table in defense of that philosophy.
Unfortunately, at present we have neither. Instead, we have a set of institutions in which all too often truth and honesty are commodities to be traded or kept as politics dictates, in which ethics have become a matter of personal values and situational conditions, in which character does not routinely relate to job performance, and in which moral standards apply to some areas but not others.
If we fail to provide those dedicated few with a coherent philosophy capable of inspiring discipline's virtues, what will be the consequences? Perhaps the best answer to that comes from Maj. Gen. Carl von Clausewitz, who wrote the following maxim: "Military activity is never directed against material force alone; it is always aimed simultaneously at the moral forces which give it life, and the two cannot be separated."26
The destabilization of military philosophy has many implications, most especially in that the discipline that post--Cold War missions require may be well beyond the All-Volunteer Force's ability to muster. That possibility may mean little to most Americans now. They may not see it. Or they may not care because it does not affect their lives directly (it's the economy, stupid!). But it does matter to those still serving in uniform who deal with the moral complexities of their missions.
2.Gidget Fuentes, "Power Down," Navy Times: Marine Corps Edition, 1 June 1998, 12.
2.In Alberto Coll, James Ord, and Stephen Rose, Legal and Moral Constraints on Low-Intensity Conflict (Newport, R.I.: Naval War College Press, 1995), 126.
3.Jonathan Shay, Achilles in Vietnam: Combat Trauma and the Undoing of Character (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1995) and Dave Grossman, On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill on War and Society (New York: Little, Brown and Co., 1995).
4.Norman Dixon, On the Psychology of Military Incompetence (London: Jonathan Cope, 1976).
5.Gen. John Hackett, The Profession of Arms (New York: MacMillan, 1983), 9.
6.S. Milgram, "Behavioral Study of Obedience," Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology 67 (1963):371--78.
7.Dixon, Military Incompetence, 216.
8.Shay, Achilles, 6.
9.Andrew Krepinevich, "The Clinton Defense Strategy," in Williamson Murray, ed., Brassey's Mershon American Defense Annual 1995--1996: The United States and the Emerging Strategic Environment (Herndon, Va.: Brassey's, 1995), 115--16.
10.Mackubin Owens, "Strategy and Resources: Trends in the U.S. Defense Budget," in Murray, Brassey's, 158.
11.Sam Sarkesian, "Moral and Ethical Foundations of Military Professionalism," in James Brown and Michael Collins, eds., Military Ethics and Professionalism, National Security Essay Series 81--2 (Washington, D.C.: National Defense University Press, 1981).
12.B.H. Liddell Hart, Strategy (New York: Frederick A. Prager, Inc., 1967), 386.
13.B.H. Liddell Hart, Women in the Military (Washington, D.C.: Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute, 1996).
14.Mackubin Owens, USMCR, "Women in Combat--Equal Opportunity or Military Effectiveness?" Marine Corps Gazette (November 1992): 31.
15.Elmar Ditner, Hero or Coward: Pressures Facing the Soldier in Battle (London: Frank Cass and Co., 1985), 116.
16.Pete Bowen Virtue in the Corps: An Analysis of the Marine Corps Ethics Program, submitted toward a master of arts degree at the Graduate School of Duke University, 2 May 1997, 60.
17.Bowen, Virtue, 59.
18.Joseph Ellis and Robert Moore, School for Soldiers: West Point and the Profession of Arms (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974).
19.Joseph Ellis and Robert Moore, United States Air Force Core Values Section III, No. 8, Department of the Air Force (Jan. 1997); Bowen, Virtue, 58.
20.John Hillen, Blue Helmets: The Strategy of U.N. Military Operations (Herndon, Va.: Brassey's, 1998), 11.
21.Grossman, On Killing.
22.Shay, Achilles, 194.
23.Gwynne Dyer, War (New York: Crown Publishing, 1985), 140.
25.Ditner, Hero or Coward.
25.Elmar Ditner, Analytical Review of Low-Intensity Conflict (Ft. Monroe, Va.: Joint Low-Intensity Conflict Project, U.S. Army Training and Doctrine Command [JLIC], 1986).
26.Carl von Clausewitz, On War (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), 137.
P.C. Casey is a frequent writer on military matters.…
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Publication information: Article title: Military Discipline, Political Pressure, and the Post-Cold War World. Contributors: Casey, P. C. - Author. Magazine title: The World and I. Volume: 14. Issue: 8 Publication date: August 1999. Page number: 316. © 1999 News World Communications, Inc. COPYRIGHT 1999 Gale Group.
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