Balls-ups

Anthony Clare

On the Psychology of Military Incompetence Norman F. Dixon (Jonathan Cape £6.95)

Those very characteristics which are demanded of the individual soldier by war are the antitheses of those possessed by people attracted to the discipline, the rigidity and the orderliness of militarism. The authoritarian personality is driven by the compulsion to control others. The army, with its elaborate, often mindless, rituals, its respect for rank and its cultivation of uniformity, provides a most attractive culture medium for the man whocases his own personal sense of inadequacy and anxiety by eliminating the unpredictable element in human relationships. Brains, according to Robert MacNamara, are like hearts and go where they are appreciated. They are not particularly appreciated in the army.

This at any rate is the view of Norman Dixon, Reader in Psychology at the University of London, and himself a former military man, having served ten years as a commissioned officer with the Royal Engineers (the blurb reveals that he was once wounded largely through his own incompetence). His book surveys one hundred Years of British military inefficiency from the Crimean War through the Boer conflict to the disastrous campaigns of the First World War and the calamities of the Second. In the course of an examination of the social psychology of military organisations and case studies of individual military commanders, he concludes that the pattern of mishap and disaster cannot be attributed to ordinary stupidity—the so-called 'bloody fool' theory. It is due instead to the fact that the trappings of militarism attract a minority of individuals with particular neurotic needs which the military milieu gratifies and cultivates.

The ideal commander, in Dixon's view, is one who manages to combine excellence as a task-specialist with an equal flair for the social and heroic aspects of leadership. Wellington, Nelson, Lawrence and Slim are numbered amongst the best examples while Montgomery, by nature 'a rather cold, introverted and autocratic individual', realised the importance of this personality mix and had the good sense to apply a somewhat contrived bonhomie 'helped out with pack

ets of cigarettes and numerous cap badges which undoubtedly did much to ensure high morale and group-mindedness in the troops which he commanded'. Unfortunately Dixon does not linger further on the possible shortcomings of such a public relations exercise and hurries on to attack the jealous and, as he considers, 'unwarranted' sniping to which Montgomery has been exposed. Dixon is not short of ineffectual and

ditheringcommanders to illustrate his thesis. He is particularly fond of the Boer War general Sir Redvers Buller (Sir 'Reverse' Buller to his men) and dallies over him with all the delight and zest of an analyst contemplating his most bizarre and colourful neurotic. A contemporary eulogy quoted here pictured Buller as big-boned, squarejawed, strong-minded, smart and sagacious, 'born to be a soldier of the very best English type, needless to say the best type of all'. Dixon derides this view, preferring the comment of Rayne Kruger to the effect that Buller's big bones nestledcomfortably under a protective layer of thick fat and that his square jaw was somewhat compromised by his double chin, but Dixon himself is not above the journalistic tendency to shower grandiose praise on the British fighting men. We are told that the British army's martial record and valour are 'second to none' and its ability to rise above the most intense provocation such as it is currently of warfare' but if experiencing in Northern Ireland, 'must surely occupy a unique place in the history he is right then how does he square this view with his basic belief concerning the origins of military incompetence?

These origins he in one of the Freudian

stages of psychosexual development, namely the anal stage. The small child, capable of obtaining pleasure from holding or letting go its bowel movement, may well develop a reaction-formation when this pleasure is tempered by anxiety as a result of a harsh training schedule. In extreme cases, the socalled anal character may result, exemplified by a stingy, meticulous, implication, and parsi monious nature. By Dixon suggests that themilitary atmosphere

i attracts such men n large numbers. He points to these traits in a number of Britain's less distinguished military leaders. He pro

vides an elaborate, always readable and often provocative analysis of such contributory factors as the British Public school and the Victorian attitudes to conformity and emotional control. But he does not actually provide any evidence to suggest that such obsessional and rigid personalities are more often found in the higher ranks of the armed forces than in the higher echelons of the civil service, the upper reaches of the

walls of Transport House.

Indeed, much of the material he so effectively and persuasively marshals to r support his view concerning military incompetence could just as easily be employed to illustrate the extraordinary indifference . to the plight of those under their command which military (and civilian) leaders often exhibit. What killed more men than Russian bullets in the Crimea was the want of firewood, a want which the senior officers neither comprehended nor acknowledged not because of any particular incompetence but because it never crossed their minds. It was not their want. Dixon quotes one of Simon Raven's officers on his men. 'They are rather like pet animals. One must keep them clean and properly fed so that they do not get diseased and are in good working order'. I am quite prepared to accept that there is an important psychological, even psychodynamic, element contained in such a view but, unlike Dixon, I would rate the sociological contribution as the crucial one.

One of the military commanders considered by Dixon is T. E. Lawrence who, according to Liddell Hart, 'can bear comparison with Marlborough or Napoleon in that vital faculty of generalship'. Now here, if anywhere, would appear to be the Achilles heel in the anal character theory. But, no, Dixon insists that he was without analobsessive traits (what about his personal fastidiousness?) and did not in any way manifest symptoms of a weak or damaged ego. Perhaps he didn't but the great pi oblem with all such psychohistorical analyses is that so much rests on the relative importance attributed by the analyst to certain individual characteristics. Lawrence was a masterly general. He therefore could not have been a rigid, meticulous, neurotic and parsimonious man. Hitler was not a great general. So he was.

What Dixon neglects to consider is whether there might actually be "another value implicit in the attitude towards discipline and control taken by military men. The great threat to the order and the efficiency of an army, particularly at the present time, is not so much the obsessional and authoritarian personality as the psychopathic personality. It could be argued that nothing dissuades the psychopath from tak ing up an army career more than an unusual emphasis on parade-ground 'bull' and an extraordinary reliance on hierarchical con trol. My Lai, the murderous exploits in Angola and the activities of some Israeli units on the West Bank can all be seen legitimately in the context of trigger-happy, extroverted, feckless troops having a go. A British officer is quoted in this book as saying that the Israeli Army seems to refute the lesson that first-class discipline in battle depends on good discipline in the barracks.

What is not clear from Dixon's absorbing book is whether the sort of demands which are currently being placed on military personnel, exemplified by the Army's role in Northern Ireland, may not actually require the very personality type which here receives the blame for previous disasters to see it through with as little pain and agony as possible.