Military Deception

Military Deception:

As a continuation of yesterday's post on the ethics of manipulation, an interesting example from the Hundred Years' War.* Sir John of Norwich is commanding a garrison in a city that comes under siege by a large French army. Discovering that the citizens are inclined to the French, that he has few provisions, and that there is little hope of aid from the main army, he decides to escape with his trusted companions.

He summons the Duke of Normandy, commanding the French army, and obtains a one-day truce to honor the Feast of Candlemas, "in honor of Our Lady." Then he packs up his stuff, and boldly rides out on that day directly through the French Army. Obliged by his word and his honor, the Duke allows them to withdraw in peace.

The poet Sidney Lanier,** in his redaction, adds a footnote: "This act of Sir John Norwich was mean and small beyond all decent words; for he took the basest advantage of the Duke of Normandy's honorable confidence in his fidelity to the sacred obligations of a truce."

In truth, I doubt the Duke minded much, since the result was that the city surrended to him peacefully. He obtained whole and without bloodshed what might have come to him in a far poorer condition, and with some loss.

Military deception has advantages and also disadvantages: a man who keeps his word and his truce in war does profit by it, especially in counterinsurgency efforts to win the population. Part of the reason the people of the city were inclined to be ruled by the Duke of Normandy was his honorable and decent character.

By the same token, American efforts in Iraq have profited strongly by the understanding that we would keep our word. Of all the actors in Iraq, of all the factions, we have been the most reliable: our terms are clear, and if you adhere to them, we will defend you and further your interests. While Iraq's factions still want self-rule, not American protection, they find it easier to trust and work with us as brokers than they do even with each other. Deception, while useful in certain cases, will dissolve that key advantage if overused.

On the other hand, trusting the enemy's word leaves you open to manipulation. It worked to the Duke's advantage in this case, but obviously it does not always. Likewise, there are times when deception is the only chance for a weaker party to attempt a danger: Sir John of Norwich saved his command unharmed for future battles this way; and centuries later, Allied forces were able to attempt Normandy due to careful efforts to distract its defenders.

The existence of war obviously changes the terms somewhat. We're looking at three different kinds of cases now: deceptive manipulation in intelligence work, deceptive manipulation in war, and deceptive manipulation between neighbors. It would be tempting to say that deception was licensed in a decreasing degree along these types of cases: nearly always in intelligence work, sometimes in war, and rarely in peaceful relations with neighbors. (And how about in a fourth case: politics?)

Insofar as men must carry out these deceptions, we should still try to establish an idea of exactly when "sometimes" is.

* If you follow the link and head down to the next chapter, starting on p. 122, you can read an interesting account of medieval counterbattery fire.

** It should be noted that Sidney Lanier practiced what he preached. He was a pilot on blockade runners, assisting English vessels in shipping Confederate cotton out through the Union blockade. On one occasion the ship was borded, and he refused to don an English uniform or deny his status as a Confederate. The Federals imprisoned him, and he contracted tuberculosis in prison, which tormented him the rest of his life. He has, therefore, earned the right to speak on the subject as a man who has sacrificed for his principles.