When I was BBC Defence Correspondent (1989-2000) one of the themes of defence was the so-called Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA). It was predicated on advances in technology, notably precision weapons and command and control, being so dramatically advanced that they amounted to a revolution in the conduct of conflict.
More recently, we have talked about hybrid conflict, next generation warfare, often linked to cyber – choose your buzzword. And such new technologies are real enough, as are their effects. And yet, and yet…
If we look at Ukraine, what do we see? A hellscape that looks like the Western Front of 1914-18. All those technologies have produced a war of attrition our forefathers would have recognised, but virtually no commentator I am aware of had predicted it.
In essence, in warfare things do of course change, but there are also eternal verities, and being human, as with most things, we over-focus on the novel and overlook the unchanging.
And that’s what we are seeing now. War has always been a see-saw, notably an ever-shifting balance between offence and defence. So, a new weapon such as the tank gives the offence an advantage, but then the defenders if they have time to learn, work out ways to combat this new weapon. The attackers then modify their use of this new weapon to maintain the advantage, the defenders also adapt, and so on and so on.
Of course, the same applies in reverse – sometimes it is technology helping the defender. In World War 1, artillery and machine guns gave defence an advantage over attackers, who until 1918 lacked the command and control and battlefield mobility to firstly pierce the enemy’s lines and then exploit any breakthrough.
And of course, technology cuts both ways. We see many videos of Ukrainian drones enabling or carrying out the destruction of Russian forces, but fewer of Russian Lancet killer drones destroying Ukraine armour and artillery. Ukraine’s innovative use of cheap drones has been something of a game-changer but mitigated by the Russian advantage in Electronic Warfare.
The end result of all this technology though currently leaves Russia and Ukraine in a place which their predecessors who fought in WW1 and WW2 would recognise very easily. Tanks unsupported by infantry are vulnerable, artillery is king of the battlefield, supporting defence in depth with lines of trenches and deep minefields to absorb Ukrainian attacks, channelling them into killing zones.
In effect, the technology has combined to produce an old-fashioned attritional battle. We should not be surprised. Historically, as noted above, every technological advance in weaponry has sooner or later (more often sooner) been matched and neutralised by other technology or changes in tactics.
It means most often the dramatic breakthroughs are the result of temporary technological or tactical advantages the enemy hasn’t yet adapted to; or one side being grossly over-matched in numbers, resources, training and equipment; or being surprised; or collapsing through the pressure, casualties and loss of will and morale.
So, looking at the current situation and applying these factors, it is no surprise we are where we are. The Ukrainians seem to have a technological edge in precision weapons and targeting, but it’s an edge not dominance. The Russians have an edge in airpower with their helicopters able to strike Ukrainian armour from beyond the range of Ukrainian air defence. But again, it is an edge not dominance. Air superiority is a battle winner but both sides have powerful enough air defences to ensure that for now neither side controls the air.
Nor does either side currently have the benefit of surprise and, as the attacker, this weighs more heavily on Ukraine. Ukraine’s major advances in the Kharkiv area last year caught the Russians out, but now the Russians have had months to prepare defence in depth. As in World War 1 they have produced multiple trench lines, each successive line inflicting casualties and slowing any momentum – a bit like punching a pillow. Except this pillow punches back – as the Germans did in WW1 and 2, Ukrainian advances are often met with fast counterattacks before the Ukrainians can consolidate.
The depth of the minefields is more WW2 than 1 and throughout that conflict the difficulty of breaching minefields, for instance at the Battle of El Alamein, was a constant feature. The Russians have developed a remote minelaying system that can lay an instant minefield, firing rockets from several miles away. This even means Russians can re-lay a minefield behind advancing Ukrainian forces, hindering any follow-up to a breakthrough. This is a classic example of new technology reinforcing traditional doctrine and tactics – evolution not revolution.
Neither is one side grossly overmatching the other in terms of resources, but both have particular challenges that help create an attritional struggle.
At the strategic level, Russia’s much larger population disguises severe demographic and structural problems that mean mobilising manpower, and then training and equipping its forces is both slower and harder than it appears. Once Russia could be profligate with its manpower – there was plenty more where they came from – but no longer. Nor can it easily crank up its industrial base.
Ukraine, although comparatively much smaller than Russia, is no minnow and has already shown considerable ability to mobilise its manpower and harness its own considerable technical capabilities. It’s also receiving massive support from NATO and its allies. Nevertheless, the huge challenge remains to conduct – and sustain – a major war that depends on the support of allies.
So, stand back from the day to day, look beyond the drones and cyber hacks and what we see is the core elements of almost every major war ever fought between well-matched adversaries. Invariably the dramatic elements, the big breakthroughs and so on, are the consequence of the less dramatic build-up, so often involving a dreadful period of attrition – a euphemism for death and destruction on a terrible scale.
But attrition should not be mistaken for stalemate, nor should relatively static movement on the ground be assumed to be a sign of stalemate. As Wellington said at Waterloo, "Hard pounding this, gentlemen, but we will see who can pound the longest."
Attritional warfare also focuses attention on other traditional core elements of warfare, both short and long-term, notably logistics. The frontlines may appear to be changing little, but the Ukrainian assaults on Russian lines of communication, attacks on ammo dumps are an attempt to shape the battlefield. Russia’s assault Ukrainian energy, its wheat stocks and ports will not help them much on the battlefield this year but by weakening Ukraine’s economy might help in the long-haul, just as international sanctions on Russia are slowly bleeding Putin’s regime.
I also see some big lessons for Western militaries emerging from decades of fighting wars against less sophisticated adversaries. As I highlighted in a previous substack, our decision to ban our cluster bombs was in part based on believing we no longer needed them as precision weapons would do what was needed and the era of mass warfare had passed. In other words, we could get moral over their use, not a view we could have afforded if, outnumbered and on the back foot, we were trying to blunt the assault of a Soviet tank army.
The Russo/Ukraine has ended that delusion. The same applies to mines. Throughout the Cold War we relied on them, but once it ended we thought we could afford to dispense with them. I do not seek to minimise the moral issues or deadly consequences of indiscriminate minelaying, but as a defensive weapon of war the brutal fact is they are hugely effective. Ask the Ukrainians.
Another delusion is the belief in small militaries and low casualties. This worked in localised limited conflicts (the Gulf) and expeditionary wars of choice where we could up sticks and leave when it suited us (Afghanistan). Clearly that’s not an option for Ukraine, and in the event of an attack on NATO territory, nor for us.
We can no longer blithely dismiss the idea of being engaged in a major conflict against a peer adversary. Now the reality is our military is too small, our industrial capacity to build up stocks in a timely fashion is minimal. The brutal fact is that a major war burns up people, kit and ammunition at an horrendous rate.
So, where does that leave us? Put simply an attritional battle is a resources battle and also the ultimate stress test on each side’s system and its people.
Part of that stress test is not to look for end dates. Instead, as the military put it, ‘suck it up’ and make sure the other side know you will, as Wellington put it, ‘pound the longest’. Any sense of weariness is an encouragement to our opponent to keep on pounding us.
In that context, looking for end dates is absurd, a fool’s errand. In a war there is no final whistle at the defined end of the match. Death and injury time have no limit.
Nor is there any certainty over how it will end. A real stalemate is one possibility. Equally there could be a dramatic end. In one of Hemingway’s novels a character describes how he went bankrupt as ‘gradually, then suddenly’. The history of warfare has plenty of examples of the eroding effect of sustained pressure on men and machine producing sudden and catastrophic collapse – that of the Afghan Army being one of the latest.
Could that happen here? Perhaps – I would judge the poorly trained Russian Army has poor morale and its defences maybe tough but they are also brittle. If (big if) the Ukrainians can break through the belts of minefields and trenches then it could have a cascade effect. And morale of course is the ultimate eternal verity of warfare.
As Clausewitz put it: ‘Fighting is a trial of strength of the moral and physical forces by means of the latter. That the moral cannot be omitted is evident of itself, for the condition of the mind has always been the most decisive influence on the forces employed in war.’
When it comes to the moral, then I have little doubt the Ukrainians have the advantage, but maybe not this year. What’s needed is for us to also stay the course and provide the resources to let it take full effect. Slava Ukraini.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts in that piece Mark.
What is missing, understandably so because nobody wants to countenance it, is a tangible sense from within the UK (and other EU) populations that we are as close to being on the verge of total war as we have been since 1945. I suspect one would have to explain what the term means.
Of course Ukraine are already experiencing this. However, nobody in Europe appears willing to accept that the war in Ukraine could possibly affect their lives, even though impact of the conflict has already raised food and fuel prices, introduced instability in energy markets and hit people's standard of living (ergo their lives) to a lesser or greater extent.
The way these issues have been articulated by communications professionals on all sides, bar the government, has been through the lens of domestic politics. The idea that a vicious war, perfectly described in your article, in eastern Europe is the reason we are all paying more at the pumps has largely been forgotten.
The existential threat facing Ukraine is barely registered by people in the street. The potential for NATO to be dragged into the conflict, through design or miscalculation - something every western leader is trying to avoid at all costs - would change the economic equation for UK overnight. The citizens of this country and of the EU would, over time, be transported back to the total war scenarios we all recognise from WW1 and WW2. The proximity of this reality has been forgotten, ignored or misunderstood. The 'pounding longer' quote comes with a hefty cost, in more than fiscal terms.
Mark, good analytical piece. The reason no-one commentated on the possible WW1 deadlock scenario is that everyone already knew the answer: fighting high-intensity conventional war with ground parity/inferiority and without at least air superiority produces deadlock. It was ridiculous for Putin to launch his invasion without an effective airforce, which everyone assumed he had, or an effective plan, which he had in 2014. This is just one more of several historical examples of someone achieving surprise by doing something so stupid it can't possibly work, e.g. Japan in December 1941. The 'laboratory' here is that Ukraine is trying to take the offensive using ground-based systems as a substitute for an airforce, so far with limited success. It is frustrating that the USAF could win this war in about 72 hours, but obviously that can't happen. Depth fire artillery/missiles attacking logistics nodes and trying to establish a favourable attrition gradient (how's that for jargon) is reminiscent of Montgomery's 'dogfight' in the middle phase of the Battle of Normandy 1944. Ukraine misplayed its propaganda war after the first few months by not keeping a high enough international profile making it easier for NATO to supply Leopards and F-16s earlier than has been politically possible.