In the nineteenth century, it is difficult to discern anything in an age-old form of warfare that was not almost instinctive reaction on the part of those opposing conquest, occupation or the legitimacy of authority. Nineteenth-century guerrilla warfare was highly diverse but always the resort of the weak in face of the strong. There could be little expectation that a guerrilla strategy of itself could result in victory in such circumstances unless guerrillas could transform themselves to meet regular forces conventionally or co-operate with regular forces in a partisan role. There are few examples where setting objectives, priorities and allocating resources can be readily identified among those who led guerrillas in the nineteenth century. Four case studies are chosen to illustrate contrasting circumstances pertaining to how far strategic analysis can be applied to nineteenth-century guerrilla warfare. These are the attempt to control Spanish resistance to Napoleon after 1808, the decision of the Southern Confederacy not to pursue a guerrilla strategy at the end of the American Civil War in 1865, Burmese resistance to British annexation between 1885 and 1895, and the decision of the Boer leadership to undertake guerrilla warfare in 1900 during the South African War.

The advent of Islam in Arabia created a new regional actor: the Rashidun Caliphate. Later caliphates inherited the vast territories of expansion accrued under the Rashidun. The ordeal of civil war was the crucible from which the Umayyad Caliphate arose. Civil crisis had a lasting influence on both the strategic setting and then environment within which successive Umayyad and Abbasid caliphs had to contend. Unity and unification of the caliphate was a necessary political objective for the duration of all caliphates. The Umayyads fused their right to political legitimacy with their military prowess and notions of divine providence. The ideological dependency of the Umayyad Caliphate to an aggressive policy of security-maximising expansionism was predicated upon a politically legitimating doctrine of perpetual war which constantly directed strategic decision making. The dependency upon war serving as the only strategic instrument subordinated to the political ends of security, the Umayyad leadership was distracted from managing growing internal dissent and covert factions brewing rebellion and eventual revolution. The Abbasid Revolution of AD 750 not only ended the Umayyad House, but effectively sheathed the doctrine of perpetual war that the Umayyad Caliphate had wielded for nearly a century. The Abbasids squandered the vast territorial and strategic inheritance within decades of wrestling power. The early course of the Rashidun, Umayyad and Abbasid caliphates, was consistently one of political and territorial expansion followed by structural fragmentation, civil strife and subsequent collapse.

The warfare of the Greek city states was limited by their means, lacking military academies, professional officers and standing forces. Small communities fought local wars with levies of citizens, often highly motivated, but precious to the polity, which could not be kept in the field for long. Fruits of victory were modest, and defeat could put the survival of the whole state at risk. Fortification as a passive defensive policy was essential. In offensive warfare, states and coalitions mostly pursued a strategy of opportunism, in which the desirable was subordinated to the attainable. Commanders typically tried to avoid decisive engagements due to the risks involved; they focused their attacks on exposed targets like farmland, small towns, isolated garrisons and unprepared enemy troops. They relied heavily on local dissenters and deserters to guide and facilitate operations. When wealthier states like Corinth, Athens and Syracuse found themselves able to invest in warfare, we clearly see their dissatisfaction with this strategic straitjacket. The rapid development of fleets, extensive fortification networks, standing corps of specialist troops and siege technology allowed these states to dominate their less fortunate neighbours. This gives the lie to old notions that the Greeks preferred their wars to be limited in scope. A state that had much more than the others could disrupt the entire system, as Macedon would eventually show.

The development of Russian strategy over a near forty-year period from 1877 to 1914 was characterised by gradual movement towards the formation of modern military forces based on a massive army and developed industry. The foundation for this path was laid out by radical military reforms in the 1860–1870s.

The Russo-Turkish War of 1877–1878 and the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905 were fundamentally different from each other in many respects. The first was fought in a thoroughly studied theatre and against a well-known adversary, with whom Russia had fought regularly for approximately 200 years. The second was conducted in a remote and underexplored location against an enemy whose strength was severely underestimated. The land and naval forces involved in the two wars significantly differed as well.

Preparations for a large-scale European war have always remained the basis of strategic planning. An important milestone was the formation of the Russian-French alliance. A possible coalition war against Germany required the adoption of an offensive strategy from the onset of the possible conflict. The First World War was the final test that measured the effectiveness of the efforts undertaken by the Russian government since the period of military reforms.

For over 400 years, Sassanid Persia was the greatest state in Asia. To the east, the Kushan Empire was already in decline. The only strong opponent of Iran was the Roman Empire in the west. Military competition for influence in northern Mesopotamia, Armenia and the Caucasus region dominated Iranian–Roman relations, orienting the strategic activities of the early Sassanids to the western fringes of the empire. The breakthrough came in the mid-fourth century, with the emergence of the Kidara Huns in the east. Iran faced a ‘strategic dilemma’: it was crucial to avoid wars on multiple fronts. The Hephthalites or White Huns, became the most important enemy of the Sassanians until the end of the following century; the adoption of such a strategic paradigm enforced the maintenance of peace with the Roman Empire in the west. However, the Sassanian ruler, having secured the eastern territories, was able to move against Iran’s age-old enemy, Rome, this way beginning a period of wars in the west that, with few interruptions, lasted almost until the collapse of the Persian state. Defending such an enormous area was a challenge, as was preventing it from centrifugal tendencies, typical for multi-ethnic states. Despite these factors, the Iranian state managed to assure the territorial integrity of its core areas for four centuries. The tool to achieve this was the army – mobile, efficient, disciplined and motivated.

The Mughals tried their hand at empire building twice in early modern south Asia. The first attempt in the early sixteenth century was thwarted by a resurgence of Afghan power in north India. Following a brief hiatus, the second – and more successful – attempt ensued in the mid-sixteenth century under the rule of the third emperor Akbar (r. 1556–1605). During the half-century of his rule, Mughal armies conquered most of north India and started expanding fur-ther towards the south, north-west and east. The war in the south consumed much of Mughal energy under his successors for the next hundred years and brought most of the Indian pen-insula under imperial control by the early eighteenth century. In contrast, several wars in the north-west and the east consumed many imperial resources without bringing much lasting ter-ritorial gain. The present chapter focuses on the evolving nature of strategy that went into the making of this vast empire. It discusses the ways in which imperial armies negotiated various types of adversary, the different motivations behind military expeditions, the methods of mili-tary planning and mobilisation, and finally the kind of political expansion all of this brought about. Reflecting on contemporary imperial texts that serve as our main historical sources today, it also seeks to understand their cultural politics as well as the nature of strategic objectives they fulfilled within the political milieu where they were written and circulated. The chapter especially seeks to understand the role of strategy both in the military success that Mughal armies met with in most of south Asia and in the multiple failures that they encountered, especially on its north-western and eastern frontiers. In the process, it shows how Mughal strategy was neither frozen in time nor isolated in its existence. Rather, the c hapter highlights the changing nature of Mughal strategy and how it constantly evolved through its interactions with diplomacy, warfare, ideology, environment, culture and resource mobilisation.

The Forty-Years War in Afghanistan has defied many expectations. Approaching the war as a forty-year strategic interaction, this chapter illustrates the interdependence of the strategic practices – using, creating and controlling force – and show how practising strategy in one way influences the strategic interaction of the ensuing phase of the war. The war in Afghanistan can be divided into a Soviet phase, a civil war phase and a Western phase. During each of these phases of the war, the use of force varied across changing political ends as well as the flux of circumstance and opportunity. Actors sided with former enemies, loyalties shifted, but the fighting continued as generations of young, mainly Afghan men were introduced to the hardship of war. War as a constant companion to everyday Afghan life for the past four decades also illustrates the old strategic adage that it is easier to start a war than to end it.

The Serbian strategy of war crimes to achieve a new state project formed the core of the Yugoslav War. Neighbourhood adversaries also committed atrocities in response. International engagement and humanitarian concern had to find ways to oppose both the aims and the means of the Serbian project and, in a subsidiary way, the worst of the local adversaries’ actions. International operations were as far apart in character from those of the Serbian project as could be. In the end, the strategy of war crimes backfired, as it prompted significant engagement to stop the Serbian project and led to the creation of the Yugoslavia Tribunal, where many senior figures were convicted of war crimes and crimes against humanity.

This chapter explores the long-term patterns of mainland south-east Asian strategic conduct and the variables behind it. In this region, the ancient Khmer Empire, the Tai polities and the Burmese, whose statecraft was influenced by Hindu and Buddhist belief, were warlike. The Hindu–Buddhist imperial concept of cakravati became the expansionistic norm shared among ambitious monarchs. Thereupon, the south-east Asian polities continually engaged in warfare to impose control over the population and tributaries. Wars were waged to displace the mass of the vanquished to enhance the victor’s economic capacity and prestige. The development of military strategy and war aims generally were geared towards the displacement and resettlement of the enemy population. Interestingly, territorial gains were minor objectives except for the crucial lines of communication and coastal areas vital for trade; polities would secure and expand their power spheres rather than dominating demarcated spaces. The fortification of the central polity also led to protracted siege warfare. In this war of attrition, stratagems, such as ruses and guerilla raids on enemy camps and supply lines, were widely employed against invading armies. There were continual shifts from forceful subjugation and vassalage to the strategic destruction of enemy polities from the twelfth to the nineteenth century in order to seize the centre. Failure to muster manpower and secure influences led to the decline and destruction of the state by more aggressive neighbors. Polities that survived or were revived then pursued a more expansionist policy and waged pre-emptive warfare against smaller states and peer competitors. The military means to achieve such strategic goals consisted of a mass of corvée forces that formed the main body. The core of the army consisted of skilled professional units comprising the aristocratic royal elite and foreign adventurer ‘specialist’ mercenaries. Gunpowder weapons became the crucial instruments to maintain tactical superiority on the battlefield and in siege warfare, as well as assuring control over the displaced population. War elephants and cavalry forces operated as shock units to smash and scatter enemy forces in set-piece battles. However, sieges were the majority of military conduct.

As in other world regions, warfare played an important role in shaping the sociopolitical landscape of pre-Columbian North America. In contrast with many of these, however, written records are lacking for all but the last few centuries following European contact. The history of indigenous North American warfare and war strategy must therefore be reconstructed largely from archaeological remains. One of the most accessible types of information available on war strategy from this source pertains to defence, as archaeological features such as rock walls, palisades and lookout towers tend to preserve in the archaeological record. The type of defensive measures used reveals people’s degree of concern with attack and shows how they employed attributes of their environment to protect themselves. The location of features may also provide insight into the direction and identity of the threat. Burned houses and unburied bodies, on the other hand, document strategies used by enemies when defences were breached. Stone weapons also preserve in the archaeological record and can reveal the arsenal available to combatants at different times and places, as well as forms of engagement: shock weapons imply hand-to-hand combat, for example, whereas projectile weapons can be deployed from a greater distance, suggesting ambush or open battle. The skeletal remains of the victims provide some of the most definitive evidence for the existence and nature of active conflict, including the demographic characteristics of victims, the spatial relationship between victim and attacker(s), and the scale and lethality of conflict (e.g. a few victims versus 500 in a mass grave). In combination with early European written accounts, which inform on aspects of Native American warfare not readily apparent in the archaeological record, the collective evidence yields a picture of war in pre-Columbian North America that is both unique and reminiscent of war in other world regions, and argues for the importance of including North America in global histories of human warfare.

While the First World War may not have been the first war to be global in scope, the development of European societies, economies and governance meant that combatant states were able to make effective use of the levers of national power in ways hitherto unseen. Capable of mobilising the resources of their own nations and their empires, the belligerents raise, equipped and sustained large forces in the field for four years. In the process of building their own power, they developed mechanisms to apply military, diplomatic and economic pressures on their enemies. The states best able to mobilise and deploy all the levers of national power – Britain and France – had the edge in the long war over Germany, which concentrated on building its military power at the expense of other levers. This chapter explores how the Entente was able to make deliberate use of its resources more effectively than the Central Powers to achieve its strategic goals.

This chapter turns to the accounts of the campaigns of the Spring and Autumn Period (771–476 BC), followed by those of the Warring States Period (475–221 BC) that ended with the creation of the first imperial state in China in 221 BCE, and finally the campaigns that created, maintained, lost, restored and then permanently lost the Han dynasty (206 BC–AD 220). War for rulers, generals and statesmen required them to devise and execute strategies that were not ideal, often failed, and seldom accommodated higher moral values. This reality was portrayed clearly in most of the histories, even in the stylised and moralised anecdotes that are often all that is left to us.

This chapter discusses a number of events of Soviet military history, ranging from relatively minor conflicts with neighbouring states (mostly parts of the former Russian empire that collapsed in 1917) in the 1920s and mid-1930s to fully fledged participation in the Second World War. Wars with Finland in 1939–1940, Nazi Germany in 1941–1945 and Japan in 1945 are the main events that fully represent Soviet military strategy. There is still lack of access to some primary sources of key actors that shaped the Soviet military strategy in 1939–1945, so the most intensive debate in the literature has been about Stalin’s plans before and during the Second World War. Another point of discussion relates to the major failure of the Red Army during the initial phase of war with Nazi Germany, focusing on the purge of the Soviet officer corps between 1937 and 1939. In general, the war against Nazi Germany (commonly referred to in Soviet/Russian literature as the Great Patriotic War) was a struggle not only for the ‘life and death of the Soviet state’ and all the peoples of the USSR, but also for the liberation of Europe and the world from fascism.

Strategy is a not a word not often used in connection with early medieval warfare ,which is often seen as mere feud or the gathering of loot. This was strongly reinforced by the widespread attitude that military history was a fit subject only for military academies. Only recently has it been recognised that war in this period was the subject of thought, care and calculation. Moreover, early medieval sources are relatively scarce and often pose difficulties of interpretation. And armies had no continuous institutional life of the kind we associate with the formation of strategic ideas. Nor were kings able to impose a monopoly of violence on their followers, for early medieval states were fragile and highly dependent upon the accidents of individual ability. The armies which were gathered were not unitary, but assemblages of diverse elements whose political relation to the sovereign was problematic. But although writing about strategy poses challenges, it is evident that military commanders in this period were not mere bloodthirsty brutes. An army, even a small one, represented a huge financial and political investment whose raising could only be justified by some substantial purpose. But the nature of medieval strategy was conditioned by the political structures which created it. A world where dynastic continuity and political stability were closely intertwined, and where kings were rulers of peoples rather than territories, gave birth to a very different kind of strategic outlook from our own.