An artist’s concept of a Space Laser Satellite Defense System.

(20) STAR WARS

Space – the final front of war.

Yes, I’ve gone with this wilder entry in lieu of my usual kinky or kinkier entry for my final special mention. You might be surprised by what kinky entries I can squeeze out of a given subject, but wars are simply not a subject for such an entry.

And yes – I’ve chosen this as my final special mention entry partly because of the segue to my Top 10 Wars of Fantasy with that titular franchise, itself inspired by historical wars, primarily the Second World War.

I’ve also chosen it as a matching entry for space warfare as special mention for my top types of war – the historical and contemporary use of space for military purposes, strategy, or war, something which will probably loom larger with any active colonisation or development of space.

The Cold War had its most dramatic front in space – firstly with the ballistic missiles, descendants of V-2 missiles typically designed for sub-orbital space flight as the primary means of delivery for nuclear weapons, and secondly with the so-called space race to achieve technological targets first in their aerospace programs.

In the space race, the Soviets had an early lead, symbolized by Sputnik in 1957, but were overtaken by the Americans, as symbolized by the moon landing in 1969. Ironically, satellites ultimately had more significance than moon landings, albeit again more by the Americans, for military surveillance and communications.

Space warfare in the Cold War reached its height with the American Strategic Defense Initiative, nicknamed Star Wars after the cinematic franchise and as such the direct source for the title of this entry. It was a proposed missile defense system intended to protect the United States against ballistic missile attack by deploying anti-missile weapons in space. Much of it was more theoretical possibility than practical reality, even now, but it was a matter of grave concern to the Soviet Union, perhaps contributing to its decline as well as the end of the Cold War, although other factors seem more direct and immediate.

Sadly not an Australian choking an emu with his bare hands – but instead holding an emu killed by Australian solders published by the Land Newspaper on 25 November 1932

(19) EMU WAR

The “war” the Australian army lost to flocks of flightless birds, since immortalised in meme. Although groups of emus are more commonly known as herds – or mobs.

The Australian army was the best in the world, man for man, as it had demonstrated in the First World War, and would demonstrate by stopping the German army at Tobruk and the Japanese army at Kokoda in the Second World War, but it lost to emus in 1932.

Of course, it wasn’t an actual war – the Emu War or Great Emu War was just the humorous tag given to it by the media – but a nuisance wildlife management military operation to curb the population of emus, apparently as many as 20,000, damaging farmland in Western Australia.

And there’s the rub, as the Australian army undertook a task it was not designed for, despite taking to it with machine guns – having seen their effectiveness in the First World War. Unfortunately, the emus didn’t charge at guns like the human soldiers of that war, but evaded or fled from fire.

Calling it a defeat, however, is unfair – the army did kill and wound a substantial number of emus, particularly as their skill at hunting them improved, such that by the end they were killing approximately 100 emus a week, ultimately killing almost 1,000 emus at the rate of ten rounds per confirmed kill, while also claiming 2,500 emus as wounded.

It just wasn’t economic – the emus were difficult to locate in substantial numbers and keep within range as well as scattering and evading pursuit. Even mounting a gun on a truck wasn’t effective – it wasn’t able to gain on fleeing emus and the roughness of ground prevented the gunner from firing.

And so the state and federal governments resisted further calls for military culls (in 1934, 1943 and 1948), resorting instead to the far more effective means of bounties to professional hunters.

So why the special mention amidst actual wars in history?

Well, because it does illustrate a number of themes, some of which are of note or interest for historical wars.

One is humanity’s hubris in waging war on nature, albeit more metaphorically rather than literally, not least in pest or nuisance wildlife management. Interestingly, Australia wasn’t the only nation to be “defeated” waging war against birds. Famously, China waged war against sparrows as part of its Four Pests Campaign to much more disastrous results – as the loss of crops to insects spared from sparrow predation was a contributing factor to the catastrophic famine of the Great Leap Forward.

Other themes are reflected in my corresponding special mention entry for my Top 1o Types of War, animal warfare.

And finally you have the military approximations from the Emu War itself, particularly for guerrilla war.

As one ornithologist observed, “The machine-gunners’ dreams of point blank fire into serried masses of Emus were soon dissipated. The Emu command had evidently ordered guerrilla tactics, and its unwieldy army soon split up into innumerable small units that made use of the military equipment uneconomic. A crestfallen field force therefore withdrew from the combat area after about a month”

And the commander of the operation, Major Meredith, observed after their withdrawal – ” If we had a military division with the bullet-carrying capacity of these birds it would face any army in the world … They can face machine guns with the invulnerability of tanks. They are like Zulus whom even dum-dum bullets could not stop”.

Brazilian steamers ramming Paraguayan ships in the Battle of Riachuelo, painted by Eduardo de Martino 1882-1883 (public domain image – Wikipedia “Paraguayan War”)

(18) PARAGUAYAN WAR (1864-1870)

Ever since reading about it, I’ve been fascinated by the Paraguayan War – also known as the War of the Triple Alliance, although let’s face it, Brazil did the heavy lifting.

It’s a war that seems like a meme or something out of a cartoon, at least as traditionally attributed to the “mad dictator” of Paraguay, President Francisco Solano Lopez – “the infinite ambitions of a supposedly megalomaniac and bloodthirsty Solano López who had the intention to create the “Greater Paraguay” through the conquest of territories of the neighboring countries.”

By neighboring countries, that means Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay. In fairness, he might have had a shot against one of them, even the larger and more populous Brazil – Paraguay was not styled as the Prussia of Latin America for nothing – but not all three at the same time.

I suppose that’s the part that appeals to me. It’s like Paraguay as the “Prussia of Latin America”, was having a dress rehearsal in the jungles of South America, for the same basic script of the actual Prussian state in Europe, Germany, for the world wars – and defeated by the same basic lack of understanding of war or understanding the limits of military and national power. In other words, encirclement and attrition by a coalition of enemies with superior resources – a coalition brought about by their own actions, “a foolish attempt to fight an unwinnable war that almost destroyed the nation”.

It’s almost like that adage by Karl Marx about history repeating itself except in reverse – with history happening first as farce and then as tragedy.

Although in the case of the Paraguayan War, it involved both farce and tragedy, the latter particularly for Paraguay itself, as it was ground down in attrition by its three opponents first in conventional warfare, then in its drawn-out guerilla resistance until Lopez was killed in action.

In the end, Paraguay was defeated and lost almost 40% of its territory, but it was Paraguay’s casualties and losses of population that are truly staggering. We don’t really know what they were because of a lack of reliable census figures before the war but they’re usually reckoned as at least half the population or even 60% or so, making it proportionately one of the most destructive wars in modern history – with the worst figures estimating the loss of 90% of the male population

Whatever the case, there was an 1871 census with about a 4:1 ratio for adult female population to adult male population – such that there was an informal acceptance, even by the Catholic Church, of polygamy afterwards to help repopulation.

The East India Company iron steam ship Nemesis, commanded by Lieutenant W. H. Hall, with boats from the Sulphur, Calliope, Larne and Starling, destroying the Chinese war junks in Anson’s Bay, on 7 January 1841 (First Opium War) – painted by Edward Duncan (public domain image – Wikipedia “Opium Wars”)

(17) OPIUM WARS (1839-1842 & 1859-1860)

Two wars in which China got pawned by European powers – the first Opium War in 1839-1842 saw China defeated by Britain (resulting in Hong Kong being ceded to Britain among other things) and the second Opium War in 1859-1860 was slightly less humiliating for China as at least it got defeated by Britain and France rather than a solo British effort.

The nineteenth century was…not a good century for China, as the commencement of what later became known as the Century of Humiliation by foreign powers. The Qing dynasty, formerly one of the most powerful states in the world and used to styling itself as the Middle Kingdom of the world, now became the punching bag of the new European world powers. Qing China was humbled and humiliated as it was easily defeated by European modern military technology and techniques. Ultimately that dealt the death knell to the Qing dynasty, which crumbled amidst a revolution and civil war that spanned decades.

And it was all pretty sordid by the European powers as well, with the Opium Wars being fought by Britain for free trade – its free trade of opium to China, that is. The Opium Wars saw the first of the so-called Unequal Treaties between China and Western powers – as an impotent China was forced to concede territory, privileges, concessions and reparations to one European power after another in a form of de facto colonization.

De facto colonization, that is, because China was too big for actual colonization by any one European power, particularly as rival European powers were concerned with maintaining a balance between themselves in China. Indeed, the European powers were remarkably cooperative between themselves when it came to their common purpose of pawning China.

Ironically, it was a newly admitted Asian power to the European circle of world power that upset this balance and came closest to colonizing China in the twentieth century – Japan. Although of course this was the final straw of humiliation for China. It was one thing to be humbled by European powers with their new industrial and military technology. It was quite another to be humbled by an upstart smaller Asian neighbor, particularly a former tributary state.

The Opium Wars earn their special mention particularly for my fascination with the interconnection between drugs and war, also reflected in my slightly tongue-in-cheek special mention for pharmacological warfare for types of war. The Opium Wars are the closest thing to wars fought over drugs like the modern stereotype of wars fought for oil – in this case, wars fought over Britain smuggling opium into China.

Of course, modern drug smugglers or cartels tend not to have the force of the world’s largest maritime empire behind them, but often play a role in more low-level war or insurgency as in Colombia. And notoriously, drug smuggling – particularly in cocaine and opium – has often laid beneath the surface of larger modern conflicts.

Decatur Boarding the Tripolitan Gunboat during the bombardment of Tripoli, 3 August 1804. Lieutenant Stephen Decatur (lower right center) in mortal combat with the Tripolitan Captain – oil painting by Dennis Malone Carter, 1850 (public domain image – Wikipedia “First Barbary War”)

(16) BARBARY WARS (1801-1805 & 1815)

Marines vs pirates – what’s not to love?

The Barbary Wars would be worthy of special mention if only as wars by the US Navy and Marines, newly created for this purpose, fighting the pirates of the Mediterranean – and not just any pirates, but the most famous and feared pirates in history or at least those with the coolest name, the Barbary Corsairs based in north Africa.

And if you were not entertained already, the Americans fought the Barbary Wars because they were simply done with the crap of paying tribute – to the tune of a fifth of its government budget – as a protection racket for piracy and slavery, all while European nations were stuffing around with a little thing called the Napoleonic Wars, except for Sweden and Sicily which joined the Americans as allies in the First Barbary War.

They are also precursors for American expeditionary warfare of subsequent history, particularly the distinctive American style of punitive expeditionary warfare, as well as the robust defense of American shipping or trade – even more notable as occurring at a time usually characterized as the zenith of American isolationism.

Of course, that American style of punitive expeditionary warfare tended (and tends) to be averse to boots on the ground – unless those boots are of Marines – albeit it has evolved from naval power or “gunboat diplomacy” to air power, bomber or drone diplomacy as it were.

And yet the Barbary Wars are up there with the American wars in history that are most overlooked, even perhaps among the so-called forgotten wars, at least in popular culture and imagination – despite being commemorated by the second line of the US Marines’ Hymn “to the shores of Tripoli” and by the Mameluke sword worn by Marine officers.

And despite, as I said, being the genesis of the US Navy and Marines. Yes, there had been a Continental Navy as well as Continental Marines during the American Revolution, but they had been disbanded. Not to mention three badass post-Revolutionary War American military heroes – US naval commander Stephen Decatur, ex-consul William Eaton, and Marine Corps Lieutenant Presley O’Bannon.

The First Barbary War was fought from 10 May 1801 to 10 June 1805 (albeit American ally Sweden had been fighting the corsairs since 1800). The Second Barbary War was classic gunboat diplomacy, lasting only three days and ending on 19 June 1815.

“The wars were largely a reaction to slavery by the Barbary states” – with slaves taken from raiding European coastal areas or captured ships from piracy, shifting to the latter as kidnapping for ransom over time. The Europeans tended to shrug it off and just cough up ransom or tribute to the Barbary states. The Americans under President Thomas Jefferson decided they were having none of that and went to war to enforce safe conduct or passage for American ships instead – “millions for defense but not once cent for tribute”.

Hence the First Barbary War, with its turning point as the Battle of Derna – in which Eaton promoted himself to general and led a small force of Marines under O’Bannon as well as foreign mercenaries on a march across the desert from Egypt to capture the Tripolitan city of Derna. That gave American negotiators the leverage they needed for the release of American hostages and the end of the war, although they still wimped out by paying a reduced ransom for the captives – much to Eaton’s chagrin.

During the War of 1812, the Barbary corsairs resumed their attacks on American shipping, characteristically encouraged by the perfidious British. Hence the Second Barbary War, when the Americans (this time under President James Madison) once again rolled up in their navy, with Barbary War veteran Decatur returning as Commodore for a little gunboat diplomacy to persuade the Algerian corsairs to sue for peace – ending “the need for further tribute from the United States”, granting “the US full shipping rights in the Mediterranean”, and significantly reducing “incidents of piracy in the region”.

Of course, it didn’t entirely stamp out the piracy or slavery by Barbary corsairs, who tended to lay low until any opposing naval ships had sailed back over the horizon – that came with the French colonization of north Africa.

The defense of Rorke’s Drift 1879 – painting by Alphonse de Neuville 1880

(15) BRITISH COLONIAL WARS –
ANGLO-ZULU & ANGLO-ZANZIBAR WARS (1879 & 1896)

The Battle of Rorke’s Drift.

That’s it – that’s the entry. Well that and the 1964 film Zulu which depicted it.

Also not quite, as British colonial wars are the archetypal wars fought by European maritime empires as they carved up the world, with the British Empire coming out in the top spot. Don’t worry – we’ll get back to Rorke’s Drift, but Britain fought numerous colonial wars.

Arguably, the most decisive colonial war or wars fought by Britain were the Napoleonic Wars. For one thing, with all the focus on their European theaters, we forget how much of the Napoleonic Wars were fought beyond Europe – and just how much of those were in essence colonial wars, with Britain coming out on top. For another, Britain’s victory in the Napoleonic Wars laid the foundations for its naval supremacy, Pax Britannica and what is sometimes called the second British Empire (to distinguish it from the first British empire until American independence).

Although its naval supremacy was the primary instrument of its empire, Britain was surprisingly versatile with a colonial army that tended to punch above its weight in numbers, which were surprisingly small, in part of course due to superior firepower (and plain old firing drill) over its colonial adversaries.

In the words of Hillaire Belloc –
“Whatever happens, we have got
The Maxim gun, and they have not”

So which of Britain’s prolific colonial wars to pick for this entry? As you can see, I’ve gone with the Anglo-Zulu and Anglo-Zanzibar Wars, firstly because I like the alliterative effect, but also because they are aptly representative of Britain’s colonial wars.

The Anglo-Zanzibar War is, however, the archetypal British colonial victory through superior firepower. Not coincidentally, it also holds the title of the shortest war in history – 38 minutes to 45 minutes, depending on which record you go by.

It was proverbial gunboat diplomacy – bonus points for involving actual gunboats, two craft with that designation, among the five British ships. Essentially, the wrong sultan succeeded to the Zanzibar Sultanate. Wrong, that is, from the perspective of the British, who preferred another one – so they simply rolled up in their ships and shelled the palace until they got the right one. Yes – they also stormed the palace with a contingent of marines or sailors and pro-British Zanzibaris. The British suffered one casualty – a wounded sailor – to about 500 Zanzibari casualties.

And with remarkably wry humor, the British billed Zanzibar for the shells the British used, among the other terms of surrender, because the British built their empire on a budget. With its puppet sultan, Zanzibar continued to be absorbed into the British Empire, and was subsequently merged with the former German colony of Tanganyika to become British Tanzania.

Now back to Rorke’s Drift, if you’re a fan of the Battle of Helm’s Deep in The Lord of The Rings film (The Two Towers), then you’re a fan of the Battle of Rorke’s Drift, as the former was filmed in a manner deliberately reminiscent of the film Zulu according to Jackson.

Indeed, Rorke’s Drift was seen at the time as the Helm’s Deep of the British Empire, a victory snatched from the jaws of the crushing defeat by the Zulus at the Battle of Isandlwana (as well as the seedy origins of the Anglo-Zulu War).

Even if contemporary observers might see Britain and its empire more as Mordor (or Isengard to America’s Mordor) rather than the Shire as Tolkien did.

If anything, Rorke’s Drift was even more epic than Helm’s Deep – as a small company of less than 150 soldiers attached to the Royal Engineers (including a substantial number of sick and wounded) fought off a force of about 3-4,000 Zulus.

Taking a step back, Rorke’s Drift was a small albeit highly celebrated part of the Anglo-Zulu War, with the British soldiers finding themselves in the path of a Zulu force in the aftermath of the opening Zulu victory at Isandlwana.

The Anglo-Zulu War itself might be seen as the last of a series of Zulu wars, from the foundation of the Zulu Kingdom as a formidable military power under Shaka. Unfortunately for his successors, the Zulu Kingdom found itself against a bigger and even more aggressive tribe – the Anglo tribe of the British Empire – and Isandlwana proved itself to be the Zulu high point of the war.

Back to Rorke’s Drift, I tend to default to its depiction in the film Zulu, which while generally accurate to the historical battle, does of course have inaccuracies (with perhaps the most egregious involving the depiction of Private Hook, a model soldier, as a rogue redeemed in the battle). The film may also be seen as somewhat problematic in these times given its celebration of British imperial victory – I don’t care.

Indeed the film tends to glamorize both sides in the battle – with the Zulus depicted as a brave, intelligent, capable, resourceful and ultimately honorable adversary. And if anyone can resist the stirring orchestral theme by John Barry, I don’t know what to say.

The British soldiers were led by Lieutenant Chard, portrayed by Stanley Baker, and his second in command Lieutenant Bromhead, portrayed by a young Michael Caine in his breakthrough film role. Deciding that retreat isn’t an option as they will move too slowly with their sick or wounded and the Zulus will catch them out in the open, they have no option but to stand and fight behind improvised barricade defenses.

Throughout the day and night (into the following day) after the Zulu force surrounds them, wave after wave of Zulu attackers are desperately and narrowly repelled by the British defenders. At one point, the Zulus succeed in setting fire to the field hospital, leading to tense scenes of the evacuation of patients under fierce attack by Zulu warriors – and British Surgeon-Major James Henry Reynolds calmly continues his surgery on a wounded soldier with fighting all around him. And yes – he got a Victoria Cross.

The British defenders retreat to the shortened lines of their inner barricades. One tactic you see through the film is the use of multiple ranks of soldiers to maintain a nearly continuous volley of fire with their bolt-action rifles. None more so than the climactic scene with three such ranks used (after falling back from desperate hand-to-hand combat at an outer barricade) to defend a massive assault by Zulu warriors. And as the camera pans back, you see the fallen Zulu warriors mere inches away from the front rank of breathless British soldiers – an impressive feat of holding the line.

That’s when you start to think from the preceding sense of overwhelming doom that hangs over the British soldiers – holy crap, they’re actually going to make it! And then – no, holy crap, they’re not…as the Zulu force masses on the hill overlooking Rorke’s Drift, seemingly barely diminished, while the British are exhausted and running low on ammunition. Lieutenant van den Burgh, their Afrikaaner advisor serving with the Natal Native Contingent, sinks to his knees and rebukes the British officers (and arguably their imperialism as well) – “Haven’t you had enough? We’re all dead!”

And then, holy crap again – as the Zulus chant, raising their spears. “They’re taunting us!” Michael Caine’s character exclaims. Van den Burgh laughs – “You couldn’t be more wrong – they’re saluting us as fellow braves!”. And then the Zulus slowly turn and walk away, still chanting, until a lone warrior is left, before he too turns and leaves.

Sadly, the historical battle ended in a more prosaic way, without the Zulus saluting the British (but more withdrawing from strategic sense and an advancing British relief column). I prefer to think it ended the way it did in the film.

11 Victoria Crosses were awarded to the defenders of Rorke’s Drift, with 17 killed and 11 wounded from their number in the battle – having inflicted 20 casualties for every one of theirs, with 351 confirmed killed from the Zulu forces (and about 500 wounded).

Britain’s colonial wars – and European colonial wars in general – exemplified the less gallant but undeniably effective side of the art of war, picking curb stomp battles, albeit usually through superior firepower rather than superior numbers. All nations would like wars like the Anglo side of the Anglo-Zanzibar War, whether or not they like to admit it – they just usually lack the means. And even if the British occasionally got stomped rather than doing the stomping, as in the Anglo-Zulu War (although they ultimately won that too).

RATING:
A-TIER (TOP TIER)

US Marines fight rebellious Boxers outside Beijing Legation Quarter, 1900 – copy of painting by Sergeant John Clymer

(14) CHINESE CIVIL WARS – TAIPING & BOXER REBELLIONS
(1850-1864 & 1899-1901)

China has such a long history of wars within itself that one really could do a Top 10 list merely for Chinese civil wars or rebellions. Indeed, one could round up a Top 10 for rebellions in Qing China alone. Few things were as spectacular in modern history – or loom as large in the hindsight of a Chinese revolutionary regime succeeding it – as the decline and fall of the Qing Empire, fighting endless rebellions within itself, until it was ultimately overwhelmed by the final one.

And by spectacular, I mean on a scale of international wars for casualties, or even world wars in the case of the Taiping Rebellion. The Taiping Rebellion might well be styled China’s world war, in the same way that the Second Congo War is styled as Africa’s world war. It was effectively a world war fought within China – on a scale of casualties exceeding the First World War, or even matching the Second World War by some estimates. Although characteristically for Chinese wars, the overwhelming majority of casualties was not from actual violence in war, but from the famine and disease that invariably accompanied the disruption of the delicate balance or supply chains of Chinese peasant agriculture.

I’ve heard it said that the Qing Empire literally faced a peasant rebellion an average of every hour or so. I don’t know the truth of that assertion, which probably tallies up the hours in the numerous historical rebellions against the Qing, although I also suspect that many or most rebellions were too limited or localised to have any serious consequence.

Territories of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom held at various times during the rebellion by M. Bitton for Wikipedia “Taiping Rebellion” licensed under https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

Not so the Taiping Rebellion. I’ve always been fascinated by millennialist or messianic movements – and it fascinates me that Qing China, formerly one of the most powerful imperial states in the world, if not the most imperial state, would find itself struggling and slogging it out for over a decade (or two if you count holdouts until 1871) with…a cult.

That’s right – a cult, one with a leader who proclaimed himself the younger brother of Jesus and declared his own Taiping Heavenly Kingdom. A cult which one would not anticipate to be particularly convincing or credible, but obviously tapped into popular unrest against the Qing.

It’s also amusing that this cult leader was effectively the equivalent of a university dropout, failing the examination for the imperial state bureaucracy. Declaring yourself the messianic leader of a heavenly kingdom and waging war against the state that failed you sounds totally like an admirable career goal in those circumstances. Why don’t more guidance counsellors recommend it?

The Taiping Rebellion marked the inexorable decline of Qing China, which was to prove terminal within half a century – and helped inspire the revolution that terminated it.

Movement of Boxers and Alliance forces during the Boxer Rebellion by SY – Wikipedia “Boxer Rebellion” licensed under https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

I also find the Boxer Rebellion almost as interesting as the Taiping Rebellion, because it fascinates me that Qing China could again find itself thrown into turmoil by…a secret society of mystical martial artists, generally known in English as the Boxers, but known in Chinese by the even more awesome name of the Society of Righteous and Harmonious Fists.

It’s like that mysterious secret organization under crime lord Han in the Bruce Lee film Enter the Dragon – which seemed to spend all its time pointlessly drilling in martial arts to take over the world, rather than, you know, training with guns or something, existed in historical real life.

Or perhaps the Jedi in Star Wars, as like the Jedi, the Boxers claimed magical force or supernatural power, particularly invulnerability to bullets (much like the Jedi deflecting lasers)

Unlike the Taiping Rebellion which pitted itself against the Qing state and was inspired by foreign influences, particularly Christian missionaries, the Boxer Rebellion declared its slogan of supporting the Qing state and exterminating foreigners, particularly Christian missionaries.

One might consider the Boxing Rebellion as essentially the Chinese version of its near contemporary by eerie coincidence, the Ghost Dance (although the Taiping Rebellion could also be argued to be a Chinese Ghost Dance).

The Qing state found itself on the horns of a dilemma, but with those Righteous and Harmonious Fists stroking its ego, sided with the Boxers – at least by the decree of the Imperial Dowager. The Chinese imperial officialdom and military were more split, some supporting the decree and others opposing it.

The Boxer Rebellion and the Qing imperial state that supported it did as well as might be expected for combatants who placed their faith in their invulnerability to bullets. That is to say, they lost – handily defeated by the Eight Nation Alliance of Britain, France, Russia, the United States, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy and Japan, who found rare solidarity with each other in curb stomping the Qing Empire and the Boxers.

My friends and I had a joke that it’s ironic that China, the nation of Sun Tzu and The Art of War, should have such a consistent lack of military competence (similar to Italy, the nation of Machiavelli and The Prince, with its consistent lack of political competence).

Like most jokes, it’s an overstatement – but China did top The Book of Lists’ 10 Most Defeated Nations in Modern History, and about half of its entry was Qing China. So not surprisingly its wars against rebellions were slogging matches.

Sobieski at Vienna – painting by Stanislaw Chebowsk 1865-1876 National Museum in Krakow

(14) OTTOMAN CONQUESTS (1299 – 1699)

The rise and conquests of the empire that conquered Constantinople and besieged Vienna – twice, although the second time was their highwater mark of conquest.

One can draw parallels with the conquests of other empires, some more ironic than others. Perhaps the least ironic is the rise of the Ottoman Empire rivalling the conquests by the Arab caliphates it ultimately replaced in predominance in the Middle East – and indeed replayed much of the same history over the same territory. The Ottoman Empire may have lacked the range and speed of the Arab conquests, being slower and more methodical than the blitzkrieg pace of the latter but made up for it in the extent to which it invaded and conquered within Europe.

On that last point, one might draw some parallel with the Mongol conquests, aptly enough for the Turkic steppe nomadic origins of the Ottomans – as the most substantial invasion of Europe since and to rival the Mongols.

One might even draw a parallel with the Romans – aptly enough as the power that finally conquered (and saw itself as inheriting) the last of the Roman Empire. Firstly, in the rise of the Ottomans from one of numerous non-descript warring tribes on a peninsula, albeit the Anatolian rather than Italian peninsula (although as further irony, the Romans traced themselves from that peninsula as well, with their mythic origin from Troy). And secondly, in the methodical and almost inexorable nature of its conquests – as well as its tenacity in decline, although this entry is concerned with the former.

It is also intriguing how much of the origins of modern history might be traced to the looming presence of the Ottoman Empire in Europe and the Mediterranean – such as the discovery of the New World from seeking to find alternate trade routes to Asia and so on.

Again, one might see the parallel with the Arab conquests, with the Ottoman conquests shaping modern history similarly to the Arab conquests shaping medieval history. And like the Arabs, one of the first obstacles the Ottomans faced on their path to conquest was the eastern Roman empire, albeit much declined from its days of defending against the Arabs. Still, the Ottoman siege(s) and capture of Constantinople were an epic end to the eastern Roman empire – and springboard for further Ottoman conquests.

With its conquest of the Byzantine Empire as well as Constantinople as its newly conquered capital and its control of the Mediterranean basin, the Ottoman Empire was a transcontinental empire at the crossroads of Europe, Asia and Africa for almost half a millennium, albeit half of that again in decline.

Egypt was of course the jewel in the crown of their African empire – but it extended westwards from Libya to Morocco (and briefly into the Atlantic with the Canary Islands), becoming the basis of the fabled Barbary corsairs or pirates which even fought the United States, although these were only nominally under Ottoman control. The Ottomans also extended southwards to the Horn of Africa – and into naval wars in the Indian Ocean.

In Asia, they inherited the caliphate and its predominance in the Middle East, extending south through the Arabian peninsula, although held at bay by a resurgent Persia under their own Turkic Safavid dynasty.

However, it was in Europe that they had their conquests that define this entry – they conquered the Balkans, extending to Crimea with the Crimean Khanate or Tatars, successors to the Mongol Golden Horde, as their vassal state, and also reached to the heart of Europe to besiege Vienna. Although apart from its defeats when besieging Vienna, it encountered significant holdouts or resistance elsewhere – Croatia, Dracula or Vlad the Impaler, Venice and the naval Battle of Lepanto.

If I were to pick one war from among these conquests to encapsulate them, it would be the war that saw their second siege of Vienna, particularly famed for the charging Polish cavalry or winged hussars that broke the Ottoman siege – the Great Turkish War or Wars of the Holy League from 1683 to 1699.

The Great Turkish War was fought between the Ottoman Empire on one side and the Holy League on the other – the Holy Roman Empire, the Poland-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Russia, Hungary and Venice.

And following from that defeat in the Battle of Vienna, the Great Turkish War ended with Turkish defeat – and defeat that was to prove the highwater mark of their conquests in Europe, losing substantial territory in Hungary and elsewhere.

Thereafter the Ottomans steadily lost their conquests in the Balkans even as it was propped up by Britain against Russia, resulting in it being styled as the “sick man of Europe” in the nineteenth century – somewhat overconfidently, as the Allies were to find out in WW1, although ultimately it collapsed in that war.

Timur defeats the Sultan of Delhi in the winter of 1397-1398, painting dated 1595-1600 (public domain image – Wikipedia “Timurid Conquests and Invasions”)

(12) TIMURID CONQUESTS & INVASIONS (1370-1405)

The wars of the Turco-Mongol conqueror Timur or Tamurlane were the last of the great horse blitzkriegs – “the last of the major nomadic conquerors of the Eurasian Steppe” mauling other states of such formidable reputation as the Golden Horde, Mamluk Sultanate, the Ottomans, and Delhi Sultanate. He was even eyeing off Ming China before his death.

If I were to pick which of the four major successor states to the Mongol Empire were to rival its reputation in conquest, I would have picked any of the other three – the Golden Horde, the Yuan Dynasty in China, or the Ilkhanate in Persia – before the runt of the litter, the Chagatai Khanate in Central Asia. Of course, by the time of Timur, the Ilkhanate had disintegrated into fragmentation, and the Yuan had fallen to the new Ming Dynasty, but even then I would have gone with the Golden Horde.

I certainly wouldn’t have picked the Chagatai Khanate to defeat the Golden Horde – nor to defeat the Mamluks who had defeated the OG Mongol Empire or the Ottomans who had just started to steamroller their way up the Balkans, but then I hadn’t reckoned on the Timurnator (heh)

“The Timurid conquests and invasions started in the late 14th century with Timur’s control over the Chagatai Khanate and ended at the start of the 15th century with the death of Timur. Due to the sheer scale of Timur’s wars, and due to the fact that he was generally undefeated in battle, he has been regarded as one of the most successful military commanders of all time. These wars resulted in Timur’s supremacy over Central Asia, Persia, the Caucasus, the Levant, and parts of South Asia and eastern Europe, and they also resulted in the formation of the short-lived Timurid Empire”.

Timur gained control of the western Chagatai Khanate (in Transoxiana) but because he was not descended from Genghis Khan, he ruled under the title of Amir through a puppet Khan, although he was to marry a descendant of Genghis (the widow of his defeated opponent) and style himself as the son-in-law of Genghis Khan. He also styled himself as the Sword of Islam, although ironically his major opponents were the other major Islamic states of Eurasia.

As the Sword of Islam and in the Mongol family tradition, he unleashed all hell across Eurasia, with casualties estimated in the millions. Timur gained control of the western Chagatai Khanate in 1370 and for the next thirty five years he conquered the remnants of the Ilkhanate in Persia and “led a series of military campaigns defeating the Khans of the Golden Horde, the Mamluk Sultanate in Egypt and Syria, the emerging Ottoman Empire, as well as the Delhi Sultanate in the Indian subcontinent…these conquests led to the creation of the Timurid Empire, which fragmented shortly after his death.”

Shortly before his death, Timur “had even attempted to restore the Yuan dynasty” in China.

The Golden Horde never recovered from Timur, disintegrating into smaller khanates that were ultimately swallowed up by the Russian state. While the Ottomans were defeated by him – giving the Byzantine Empire some small respite before its death – they bounced back to bigger and better things.

As for the Delhi Sultanate, “Delhi’s conquest was one of the greatest victories of Timur, arguably surpassing Cyrus the Great, Darius the Great, Alexander the Great, and Genghis Khan, because of the harsh conditions of the journey and the achievement of taking down the richest city of the world at the time. Delhi suffered a great loss due to this and took a century to recover.”

Even after that century, Timur still conquered India from beyond the grave – or more precisely through one of his descendants, his great-great-grandson Babur, who conquered India to forge arguably the most powerful imperial state in the subcontinent prior to the British, the Mughal Empire, which survived even in decline to the nineteenth century.

Union soldiers destroying telegraph poles and railroads in Georgia, 1864 – art by F.O.C. Darley and engraved by Alexander Hay Ritchie, restoration by Adam Cuerden and available from the US Library of Congress’ Prints and Photographs Division (public domain image – Wikipedia “Economic Warfare”)

(11) ECONOMIC WARFARE

“War is a racket.”

Booty, loot, spoils, plunder, pillaging and sacking – not to mention piracy and slavery. And for when you can’t take it with you or just want to weaken your enemy, there’s laying waste, salting the earth or scorched earth, ravaging, razing, and general devastation or destruction. While vandalism has come to mean the latter, its historical origin in the name of the Vandals was more the despoilation of the former.

All warfare is economic warfare.

Well, not quite but close. Warfare consistently has had economic resources or targets as motive or means of waging war, albeit not universally.

That goes all the way back to its origins in prehistoric warfare, where the economic resources as motive for war were as rudimentary as hunting grounds or foraging territory.

From agriculture onwards, the economic motives of war became more concrete and durable for occupation, storage or transit – from grain to gold and everything in between, as well as the land from which economic resources were grown or mined. Humans themselves became economic resources through slavery of captives (although if more contemporary tribal warfare is any guide, prehistoric warfare often involved women as captives).

Logistics and supply lead naturally to the subject of economic warfare, which in pre-modern history was predominantly looting or sacking. Indeed, prior to the rapid growth of productivity in modern history, most windfalls of economic growth in history seem to be from population growth, trade in luxuries – and above all, from military conquest and warfare.

In short, whether war has been a racket, it certainly has been robbery on a grand scale throughout history – or vandalism on an equally grand scale.

Or piracy if you prefer – while pirates are usually seen on the opposing side to states in history, there are states that have effectively been pirates or deployed piracy (or privateers) as a means of war. Perhaps the most famous example of the latter is the piracy of other European states, most notably the English, on Spanish shipping from the Americas – although attacks on shipping, most notably by submarines, has been a feature of modern warfare, albeit to sink rather than sack the ships and their cargoes.

Yes, we tend to think of economic warfare as the modern use of economic means of state power as a substitute for military force – soft power rather than hard power – but economic warfare has been used in tandem with military force to weaken enemy states for thousand years, even by such basic (and classic) means as “ravaging the crops of the enemy”.

However, the same modern developments in trade and industry that have seen wars become comparatively less lucrative as a means for economic motives – as well as more costly – have also lent themselves to greater sophistication and effect for economic policies or warfare separately from military force.

“Policies and measures in economic warfare may include blockade, blacklisting, preclusive purchasing, rewards and the capturing or the control of enemy assets or supply lines. Other policies may include tariff discrimination, sanctions, the suspension of aid, the freezing of capital assets, the prohibition of investment and other capital flows, expropriation, and debasing the target’s currency by counterfeiting”.