Wherever you walk about London, there is evidence of the influence of Britain’s military on its society. Take Whitehall off Trafalgar Square, the latter so named after the famous naval victory over the French and Spanish defeats at Cabo Trafalgar in 1805.

Just round the corner from the Old War Office Building opposite the gleaming Horse Guard sentries, is the memorial to the Gurkha soldier, the Nepalese who served in the British army from India to Iraq from 1816 to date. “Bravest of the brave, most generous of the generous, never had a country more faithful friends than you”, reads the inscription of Professor Sir Ralph Turner.

A block away is the memorial statue of the Royal Tank Regiment – motto, “Fear Naught” – unveiled by the Queen in 2000. Past the Horse Guards down Whitehall towards the Houses of Parliament is Sir Edwin Luytens’ Cenotaph remembering ‘The Glorious Dead’, the one million plus who lost their lives in the First World War. It sits in line with the recently-erected memorial to the contribution of Britain’s women in the Second World War, and near the statues of three 20th century British military ‘greats’: Montgomery of Alamein, the ‘Master of Strategy’ Chief of the Imperial General Staff Field Marshal (later Viscount) Alan Brooke, and the mastermind of the Allied victory in Burma Field Marshal (Viscount) Slim.

These figures, in turn, nestle alongside the headquarters of the Royal United Service Institute, the world’s oldest think-tank established in 1831 by the Duke of Westminster and focused on security and defence matters. The RUSI building is opposite the memorial to Field Marshal Earl Haig astride his charger, the controversial commander-in-chief of the British armies in France from 1915-18.

One could go on. From Hyde Park to the memorials dotting the country’s smallest village, the thread of the military in British history is continuous and distinct. The point here is not to give the reader a lesson in physical geography. These memorials define Britain’s political geography.
But this is not a happy moment in the history of Britain’s armed services. There is a fierce political and public debate about when to withdraw from Iraq in the face of worsening security and the belief that, incredibly, Britain and its US ally have been defeated by the enormity of managing reconstruction in the midst of civil war.

Perceptions of British impotence have recently been exacerbated by the capture of 15 sailors by Iran in the Shatt al-Arab south-east of the Al-Faw peninsula in the Gulf on 23 March 2007. This event is described in private by a number of former senior officers as a ‘monumental’ embarrassment and ‘cock-up’.

The embarrassment does not stem principally, however, from the fact that they were captured, but rather why they were put in such an exposed situation; and by the manner in which the Royal Marines and naval personnel conducted themselves during and after their capture.

One hapless seaman has even gone on record as having wept when the Iranians took away his iPOD. Quite was he was doing with an iPOD on a mission defies belief, but admitting the trauma of such an event is another thing altogether. And that they were given permission to sell their stories to the media is a further indication perhaps of the difference in values between this age and those earlier.

All this has come at a moment when there is a debate about whether Prince Harry, the third in line to the British throne, should be deployed to Iraq – not it would seem because it is too dangerous for him, but how his presence might affect the security of his colleagues.

Do such events illustrate a change in the relationship between the armed forces and society? What shapes their role and structure? And what might be the relevance of all this for Africa?
The factors shaping the military can be categorised in two respects: those which remain the same this decade as they did in an earlier era; those that are different.

Those that have stayed the same

In the first category, military role and capabilities are defined by what a nation is and wants to be. It is a tool to deal with those threats in the way of achieving its goals as a society – roles which can be described as the protection of the state and promotion of values.

Setting up the right structure and buying the right tools for the military’s primary task depends on a clear assessment of future threats. Historically prediction remains an art rather than a science, no different today as it was in the past. One only has to look at 9/11 to see how difficult prediction is. Equally, defence planning has to take into account the capabilities of likely foes and allies, though this, too, is a task fraught with suspicion, misperception and inaccuracy.

Preparing for the tasks that arise out of this threat-definition process remains problematic too. There remain inexorably long lead times in the development of appropriate technologies (even though paradoxically these very technologies are supposed to make things easier to build), meaning that even if they don’t want to, generals and admirals end up fighting the last war with the tools they have inherited for that task.

For example, Britain is in the throes of acquiring 230 Typhoon aircraft, a procurement requirement for a fighter-interceptor established in the 1970s during the Cold War. As a result, the aircraft is badly suited to the sort of tasks the RAF is carrying out in Iraq and Afghanistan, while the cost of the UK’s Typhoons has increased nearly threefold from the initial estimate of £7 billion.

The Shatt al-Arab incident also shows how the frigate involved, HMS Cornwall, was unsuited to the task with a large draught for the shallow, narrow waterways it was supposed to navigate. More, but smaller ships are likely better for such roles. The incident also illustrates the unsuitability of the equipment and rules of engagement to the security situation. What if, one might ask, the Iranians had been Al-Qaeda, intent not on kidnapping, but killing?

In another context, South Africa’s purchase of fourth-generation comparatively high-tech ‘Gripen’ jet interceptors, its three submarines and four frigates was made for a perceived defence requirement in the 1990s. This has changed, of course, and now the military wants more – or at least different – lower-tech equipment, especially air and sea transport for peacekeeping in Africa. The overwhelming focus on the need for new hardware has also obscured the importance of having the right human software for the SA National Defence Force to do its job.

For all militaries there exist, too, constraints of funding, with the expense of high-tech equipment eating into deployment budgets and vice versa. Governments receive what they ordered and have paid for, often expecting a military to carry out an impossibly difficult task without the necessary money, training and equipment for the job – enough not to lose, perhaps, but seldom enough to win. HMS Cornwall had only one Lynx helicopter when it was supposed to have two, and the one present was reputedly not providing cover for the UN-sanctioned operation, but ferrying journalists around – another indication of how the military has to pander and provide, unrealistically at times, for yet another if key constituency.

Yet future defence and military needs can only, at best, partly be gauged by current experiences and extrapolations. Logistics remains all-important to military proficiency, today arguably more so than in the past given the level of technologies involved. As General Omar Bradley put it: ‘Amateurs talk strategy; professionals talk logistics.’

Things that have changed

What, in contrast, has changed?

First, the international environment is more complex and multi-disciplinary, and faster-paced. We are operating in a 24/7 hyper-media world, which can change perceptions faster and among a larger audience than any operation on the ground. The presence of more governmental and non-governmental actors (including private militaries) means that strategies for military and military-civilian co-operation are at a premium, especially in the post-conflict peace building phase of operations. The military cannot solve security challenges alone: at best, it can hold the line and apply pressure allowing other economic, social, intelligence and developmental assets are brought to bear. The military is less likely today to be a decisive force for victory than ever before.
Second, some security drivers are different, with the emergence of new pressures of migration, climate change and water resource protection, energy and commodity security heightened by the economic rise of China and India, youth bulge and burgeoning urban populations notably in Africa, HIV-Aids, and terrorism of a transnational character. While ‘international kleptomania’ is as old as states themselves, increased pressures for foodstuffs and the growing power of non-state actors adds a layer of complexity to this threat.

Third, whether the emergence of a range of new state actors, notably China and India in Africa, makes life more difficult or easier for Africa is moot. The tradition of China’s engagement suggests a concern less on Africa’s needs than Beijing’s, and the intersection between these may not always be to the best of interests of Africa’s citizens rather than its elites. It highlights, again, the growing relevance of energy as a driver in considering security in Africa.

Fourth, the role and definition of security has changed, from state-centric to human security – even if the reality of its building blocks have not altered given the need for a strong, effective state to provide security, even human security. But the military have to deal with the consequences of the collapse or erosion of state capacity; the effects of which are potentially catastrophic for people, states and regions alike, as Iraq shows. And they also have to deal with the expectations of people fed by a global media, but which have to be satiated at home.

Fifth, related to the above, the military are generally expected to do more with less. They are expected not only to be ‘thought leaders’ in military doctrine, but also in the theory and practice of state-building. In this they face a new very tricky challenge: engaging in the political affairs demanded by peacebuilding, a role however better suited to proconsuls and commissars than colonels and corporals.

Sixth, while the military remains a key tool – and sometimes the lead agent – for conflict resolution, they also have to be astute political actors in this regard. What does effective mediation require? It relates closely to peacebuilding. It requires helping local actors to where they want to go, not giving them an external solution. It demands even-handedness and perceptions thereof, knowledge of local conditions and actors (where the military’s intelligence functions are important) and the application of time, effort, leadership and careful method.

Seventh, the very stuff that militaries depend on – people – has altered, as they have continued to do over the centuries. Today’s generation is not only more technology oriented, they inevitably might have different values. Today’s ‘iPOD generation’ – and whatever follows them – may, however, be less suited to the tough military life. How this changes the role of the military within society is moot. It may well reinforce their classification as a distinct elite (or underclass) rather than a citizen force. Widespread anti-militarism is prevalent in many states, including those in Africa.

Eighth, whereas technology is seen as a great force multiplier, in today’s asymmetric warfare environment we at least recognise clear limits to the balance between quality and quantity, technology and numbers. Nor should the role of bureaucratic process in military planning be a substitute for the effects of boots on the ground – the essential difference between the logic of accountants and admirals.

Capacity, moreover, is more than just a sum of military assets. Contrary to the reasoning of bean counters, it incorporates the value of industrial prowess and human and physical infrastructure from skills to bases underpinning operational capability. And the overwhelming focus on the need for new hardware has obscured the importance of having the right human software to get the job done. Today’s ‘asymmetric warfare’ – such as that employed by and emboldening insurgents from Afghanistan to Iraq – may be to the disadvantage of African militaries, potentially changing the balance between African populations/paramilitaries on the one hand and militaries on the other.
Ninth, continental vision and regional initiatives play an increasing role in ensuring security, especially in Africa and the Middle East. The greater (at least rhetorical) engagement of the international community with matters of African development and security contrasts with the more active role by African-led and staffed peace support initiatives, mimicking the role of NATO in the Balkans to take another example. At the same time, we are today acutely aware of the limitations of collective defence, which amounts too often to less than the sum of the parts.

Tenth, and finally, the traditional role of the African military has included domestic state-building, through the military’s ceremonial role inculcating a sense of pride and prestige as a national institution. Today this has taken on a new dimension in terms of their expanding engagement as a key component of the criminal-justice system. Whether they should be doing this is moot.

The Cenotaph and other London memorials illustrate that the military’s social presence and value goes beyond politics and bureaucratic process. Moreover the furore over Prince Harry’s deployment to Iraq and his apparent keenness to go, in spite of the obvious risks, would seem to indicate that an attitude of duty, honour and selfless sacrifice still pervades. But in an age less tolerant of military expeditions and incursions, the choices become more difficult and less generous to the military: between technology versus troop numbers, of quality versus quantity, and bureaucracy versus effects.


Greg Mills

Dr Mills heads the Brenthurst Foundation. His latest book, ‘From Africa to Afghanistan: With Richards and NATO to Kabul’, detailing his experience as a special adviser to NATO in Afghanistan, was launched this May in Johannesburg. In April he was appointed a member of the RUSI Council, (The Royal United Services Institute for Defence and Security Studies, founded in 1831, by the Duke of Wellington and the oldest institute of its kind in the world). Mills the only African to have served in this post.