Deep into the afternoon of 18 June 1815, as the outcome of the Battle of Waterloo seemed to be slipping Napoleon’s way and the British infantry sheltered on the reverse slope of the Mont-Saint-Jean Ridge, the Duke of Wellington reassured his anxious staff officers.
“Hard pounding, this, gentlemen. Let us see who will pound longest.”
Wellington was acknowledging a truth he did not like: that sometimes war was a matter not of strategic or tactical mastery but of sheer endurance.
This crude, bloodied, gouging element of conflict is one which Western nations have tended to forget. When the Cold War ended and a conventional land war in Europe seemed impossible, the United States and its allies leaned heavily into technological overmatch to win asymmetric wars against adversaries who were barely fighting the same battles.
We should not ignore the fact that the sophistication and power of modern military forces can be awe-inspiring. Whether you support or oppose Operation Epic Fury, Donald Trump’s most recent military action against Iran, the extent and power of what America and Israel have been able to achieve in a short period is breathtaking.
In the first 12 hours of the conflict, on 28 February, according to one source, 400 US and Israeli warplanes carried out 1,500 sorties: that means each aircraft striking a different target every three or four hours. More than half a dozen senior members of the Iranian régime, including the Supreme Leader, were killed. This represented coordination of firepower, logistics, reconnaissance and intelligence of an incredible order.
US and Israeli forces have demonstrated the margin of their superiority, and it is cumulative: as Iran’s air defence systems and command and control sites are damaged or destroyed, America and Israel win themselves yet more freedom of action. They now enjoy almost complete aerial superiority and can strike any targets they like. More than that, like RAF Bomber Command in the last weeks of the Second World War, the Department of Defense in Washington has an air of running out of things to bomb.
That is not the whole story. On 2 March, the Iranian government announced that it had closed the Strait of Hormuz, the vital shipping lane from the Persian Gulf out into the Indian Ocean. Tehran has often threatened to close the strait before and thereby choke off a fifth of the world’s oil and liquified natural gas but until this month it had never made good on that threat for any sustained period.
With as much planning and forethought as a knee struck by a patella hammer, Trump declared that US Navy warships would escort shipping through the strait and America would provide war risk insurance. Many parties involved were sceptical that this would or could happen.
At the time of writing, President Trump appeared to be claiming to have agreed joint management of the strait — ”Maybe me, maybe me. Me and the ayatollah, whoever the ayatollah is” — but neither he nor the régime in Tehran has a reputation for accuracy and candour. Besides, the strength of Iran’s position should not be downplayed, and here we return to Wellington’s disappointed observation of “hard pounding”.
Notwithstanding the peace talks which may or may not have happened, forcing the Strait of Hormuz would not simply be another iteration of America and Israel’s massive military dominance. It changes the calculus. Not only would putting commercial and military assets into such a narrow and confined strip of water — the strait is only 24 miles wide at its narrowest point — present inherent risks and vulnerabilities, it would change the nature of what counts as victory.
It is unlikely that forcing the strait could be achieved without loss
If Trump committed US forces to opening the strait, he would need them to succeed fully. By contrast, if some ships found their way through but others were attacked and sunk, that would not represent defeat for Iran. The most powerful participant always needs the most emphatic victory.
There is also the issue of the willingness to absorb casualties. It is unlikely that forcing the strait could be achieved without loss. The combination of Iranian drones, missiles, rockets and speedboats would probably find targets, albeit at some cost: but Iran, with Trump having demanded “unconditional surrender”, knows this is now an existential threat. Moreover the new Supreme Leader does not face challenging mid-term elections.
Let us imagine a worst-case scenario. Suppose that an Iranian missile was not intercepted and, like the Exocet which sank HMS Sheffield in the Falklands War, struck one of the American carriers. The USS Gerald R. Ford, which was in the area until a few days ago, cost $13 billion (plus R&D) and carries 4,500 personnel. If it were to sink, even if half the crew was saved, America would suffer as many deaths in a few hours as it did in 20 years in Afghanistan.
The West has been fortunate: we have lost the experience and acceptability of mass-casualty conflicts. That change in attitude has not been universal. It is estimated that Russia has now suffered more than a million casualties in four years of war in Ukraine. Some context for comparison? That is more than a third of all American casualties in every war since the country was founded 250 years ago. In today’s United States, that is simply unthinkable.
That is the price we pay, and should celebrate paying, for living in a democracy. Those million Russians killed and wounded cannot punish Vladimir Putin at the ballot box. We should always minimise casualties in war, but we also have to remember that our adversaries are not playing by the same rules, and sometimes derive a dreadful, blood-soaked advantage from that fact.
I distrust people who forever quote Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, but it is not Master Sun’s fault that he is overexposed. In this case, one of his most famous aphorisms is correct:
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”
But what he goes on to say is even more apposite:
“If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.”
