For many of us, this book will change how you view the conflicts we are currently involved in and those which inevitably will entangle us. Simpson seems like a nice guy and so wouldn't put things as bluntly as I do, but this follows from his work: if you believe the Afghanistan War is between us and the Taliban, you have already dangerously oversimplified the conflict. In any particular area of Afghanistan, you are going to find most Afghans do not see the conflict in those terms. Their local tribal affiliations may run deeper than their interest in either the Taliban or the government in Kabul. Their interests in these "foreign groups" (ISAF is obviously foreign, but the Taliban are often seen as Pakistani rather than native to Afghanistan) probably comes second to their desire to survive the winter. Destroying opium makes sense to us, but doesn't to the farmer who literally depends on that crop for his survival. Simpson describes their culture and politics as a kaleidoscope, and that is exactly right. It is constantly evolving into something new, something unpredictable, something unstable, and something fraught with new challenges. We are not going to come up with a military end state here, because we are no longer in the realm of the military, but of politics. Armed politics, to be sure, but politics. Politics doesn't end.
This book is not a repudiation of Clausewitz, but an update. With apologies to Edwin Starr, war is good for something, or more accurately, for someone, which is why people have conducted them since time immemorial. It is a form of communication: you'll give in to our demands or face the costs of conflict. It is absolutely not random destruction. That would be counterproductive for state actors. Because it is communication, it involves only a small number of parties, the communicator and the receiver of the message. The destruction of your armed forces indicates that you have lost. Responsible governments surrender to protect their now defenseless civilian populations.
We live in a very different age than Clausewitz, though, and Simpson is right that we have not updated our thinking appropriately. War is a performance, battle is the stage, and all who see it are the audience. In the past, the audience was pretty well limited to those directly involved, but now with advancements in communication, a targeted bombing against Hamas can be viewed worldwide within a span of seconds. The response of the audience will come from their value judgements, their history, their desires, not ours, and if we wish them to act in a way that is beneficial to us, we must take this into consideration. But that requires us in turn to have a clear idea of what it is we mean to accomplish.
There is more in this book than I can unpack here. Some particular things worth considering from this book:
~The distinction between subjective and objective is extremely important in communication, even (or perhaps especially) if that communication is war. Objectively, side A might kill X number of side B's troops, whereas side B barely inflicts any damage to side A, but subjectively, side B might credibly claim victory by merely surviving. War's advantage in the past was that both sides (there being a polarity) defined victory as opposing outcomes: X or not X determined who wins. When you have X, not X, Y, Z, 1, %, and click-clack as potential interpretations of any objective action, it becomes difficult to send a message.
~Machiavelli should have been quoted in this book. A centralized enemy might be harder to beat on the battlefield, but if you convince that one audience they have lost, the war ends. Decentralized enemies are like fighting a herd of cats. Sure, you can whoop up on any one pretty easily, but the rest scatter and come back at their convenience. "The" Taliban is a misnomer. The central leadership in Pakistan barely has any control over many "Taliban" factions, to the point where organizing support between different Taliban groups is almost impossible. While this makes concerted, nationwide efforts against us difficult, it also means we have no one to really negotiate an end with. Even if the central leadership wanted an end to the shooting and we gave them decent terms, they couldn't enforce it on all the various groups that have taken up the label and who often have cross purposes with each other.
~Because of the multiple audiences having different interpretations, we end up with the whole kaleidoscope thing. Simpson calls it a Mosaic theory of conflict. In these situations, our high up civilian leaders cannot make all of the policy calls. They cannot possibly keep track of the various political factors and factions in every various village of a country. This means the military, right down to the lowest ranking officers, are going to have to make political decisions based on the information they have on the ground. And not being involved in politics isn't an option where every action you take will have a political reaction from the locals you need to win over.
~One of the multiple exclamation points notes I have in the book involves the need of flexibility in strategic narrative (aka why you are fighting). Think of it this way: your average Democrat thinks of Iraq in terms of 2003, because defining the purpose of the war in those terms suit them best politically today, namely by bashing Bush over trying to create democracy or about the lack of WMDs. Your average Republican wants to talk about 2010, when Obama pulled our troops out, perhaps rashly and prematurely. Nobody seems interested in talking about Iraq circa 2015 and what we mean to accomplish there today. The purpose of a war may very well change depending on how that war ends up happening, and politicians need the flexibility to do that without suffering career ending criticism. That said (and largely agreed with), I think Simpson needed to deal with the obvious challenge against this, namely, that granting flexibility to politicians to change the meaning of war will be done with the interest of said politician in mind, not necessarily the nation.
~A point Simpson somewhat addresses but that I noticed since reading Adrian Goldsworthy in 2010: the ancient historians were not being obtuse when they went into detail on the political situation of every little town in ancient Greece or Rome. It mattered because their wars were one of multiple audiences, where the "us vs. them" dichotomy fails. Each city-state could join one of the opposing sides, or not, and it largely depended on the internal politics of the city, that city's past relationships with the various combatants, its physical strategic situation and ability to resist should one side take umbrage at their decision, how the combatants treated other neutral or potentially convertible city-states in similar situations, etc. When dealing with these low intensity conflicts, Livy, Polybius, and Thucydides are actually more relevant than historians of the Second World War.
~If we mean to win hearts and minds in these various far off places, our State and Defense Departments need to make real efforts to learn their local history, culture, traditions, etc. Not a new point to me, but brought again to my attention in terms of Afghanistan. I've mentioned to my high school classes the failure of the US to learn anything about Vietnamese culture, which we greatly insulted by the strategic hamlet program, removing people from their ancestral homelands, upsetting their notion of filial piety, and creating a great many enemies in the process. My understanding of Afghanistan's political, cultural, and historical background is near zilch (the hell if I have any idea who the Aliqzai or Ishaqai are, or who Dost Mohammed was).
About the only thing I can knock this book for is its own lack of clarity in various parts. There was no need to shoehorn his rhetoric argument around Aristotle. The relationship between the rational and emotional made sense, but Simpson becomes muddled in finding a clear break between ethos and pathos. And then there is the academic speak. The author is quite interesting when telling things from his point of view like he would to a friend, but at other points (in particular near the end) it breaks into academic journal formality that is not impressive, entertaining, or informative.