Defence: lessons forgotten

05/09/2021

Before one can learn from history, it must first be properly written. There is little possibility of learning anything if events have not been accurately recorded and skilfully analysed. But the works must also be accessible for general study: the people who do the original writing are rarely those who will need to apply the lessons.

Sadly, much of our known history is shoddy or incomplete, or is simply devoted to repeating misleading tropes. And such that is written is all too often the property of celebrity authors and prestigious place-holders, pandering to their own egos, while the more informative studies moulder in obscurity. Thus are we misinformed, bolstered by comfortable legends which either offer no signposts as to future conduct or send us haring off in the wrong directions.

However, the fact that there might exist a comprehensive record of an event, or period of activity – and one that is widely circulated - does not necessarily mean that the lessons learnt will be implemented.

For instance, during the Iraqi insurgency of 2003 onwards, it was an article of faith that the British Army – with its recent experience of the "Troubles" in Northern Ireland – was the master of counterinsurgency. So often was this stated in theatre that it almost became a running joke amongst the US forces, so often was it stated during coalition meetings.

And one of the central tenets that emerged in the new-found counterinsurgency doctrine was that "no-go areas" should not be tolerated. This principle was firmly established in July 1972 after nationalist no-go areas in Belfast and Londonderry were causing a serious problem for the security forces as they provided refuge for provisional IRA terrorists.

At the same time, the establishment of loyalist no-go areas made a mockery of law within Ulster, which had the Army planning a major operation to clear both nationalist and loyalist no-go areas.

After clearance was eventually given by the Westminster government, Operation Motorman was launched on 31 July 1972. Thirty thousand troops were involved, including 38 regular battalion-sized formations (27 of which were infantry battalions and two armoured regiments) and 5,500 members of the Ulster Defence Regiment.

The operation marked the first and only use in the conflict of tracked armoured vehicles, with the deployment of a number of Centurion AVRE to clear the barricades demarking the no-go areas. The show of force met with almost no resistance in either nationalist or loyalist areas.

Come the Iraqi insurgency, southern Iraq was allocated to the British forces. They were centred on the port city of Basra, with a major base called Abu Naji, close to the inland city of al Amarah and the Iranian border.

During 2006 the base came under sustained rocket and mortar attack, against which the British forces defences were wholly inadequate. On the 24 August, therefore, the Army abandoned the camp, ostensibly handing it over to ill-trained and even less well-equipped Iraqi defence forces. Within hours, looters had stripped the base and it had been occupied by insurgents.

Before that, policing the troublesome al Amarah city had become dangerous that the Army had to resort to using Challenger main battle tanks to patrol the streets, having one badly damaged in the process. With the departure from Abu Naji, patrols ceased, turning the city and its environs into the very thing that British counterinsurgency doctrine would not tolerate – a no-go area.

But the Army, with the aid of the Americans, had convinced itself that the flow of weapons which was fuelling the insurgency was coming from Iran, being smuggled across the border.

Of these in particular were the fearsome explosively formed projectiles (EFPs), which were causing havoc with the Army's lightly armoured Snatch Land Rovers. As a result, the Army devoted its now reduced resources in the area to patrolling the border. Yet despite the claims that smuggling was prevalent, no authenticated seizures were recorded.

By 2008, the British had retreated even further and were largely hunkered down in their Basra airport base, having to rely on a joint operation by US and Iraqi forces to repossess the city in an operation code-named "Charge of the Knights", commencing on 25 March, while the British troops were largely confined to barracks.

Following this successful operation, a further joint US-Iraqi operation was undertaken, which the Americans code-named "Promise of Peace", to reclaim al Amarah. This involved 22,000 troops comprising the Iraqi Army's 10th Division, the US 10th Mountain and the 1st Cavalry Divisions, sealing off the city, following which president Maliki issued an ultimatum to the insurgents to lay down their arms.

At 5am local time on 19 June, the combined forces started to move in to the city. Not a shot was fired. Insurgents were seen throwing their weapons into the canals and coming out to surrender.

Far from meeting resistance, as the British had done, the troops found enthusiastic citizens telling them where to look for weapons. Within days, more than 200 weapons caches had been uncovered, plus a major bomb-making factory. Another was found close to the outskirts of the city. The immediate included 2,262 mortar bombs, 1,034 mines, 971 artillery shells, 749 rocket propelled grenades, 176 "conventional" IEDs and 141 EFPs.

A month later, US troops discovered more munitions, including 250 components for EFPs. In all, over 8,000 weapons were found, including 600 EFPs, following which US troops reported a sharp fall in the number of IEDs placed throughout the whole theatre. Al Amarah had been the bomb-making centre and the armoury of the insurgency.

Entirely fortuitously, therefore, the combined force of US and Iraqi troops had confirmed the British wisdom of not tolerating no-go areas. The irony was that the British themselves had been unable to provide the demonstration. But then, Operation Motorman had needed 30,000 security forces. By 2006, the UK had only a fraction of that number to cover the whole of southern Iraq, down to less than 10,000, and by 2007, the number had dropped to 5,000.

It would be easy then to blame the politicians for failing to provide enough troops but the truth was that the brass, with Gen. Richard Dannatt at the helm, was content to see the Iraq commitment cut back. By then, they had their eyes on fresh glories in Afghanistan where, it was thought, the Army could recover some of its lost prestige.

When it came to the lessons of history, therefore, when these became inconvenient they were simply discarded. Dealing with the potential fallout became a readily simply matter. After abandoning the base at Abu Naji, the Army simply ignored the consequences.

Because the base had become so dangerous during the siege, there were no journalists embedded that, so the British departure was scarcely reported. And, because the recovery of al Amarah was a joint US-Iraqi operation, it was not reported at all in the British media – and scarcely even in the US press, which was much more concerned with events further north, around Baghdad.

Thus, the British failure was not recorded at the time – very few British journalists were even aware of Operation "Promise of Peace". Only in my book, The Ministry of Defeat will you find a detailed explanation of what happened.

And this raises the obvious lesson for would-be failures. If you are to ignore the lessons of history – or do not even bother to seek them out – then all you have to do is rely on the media and the dismal ranks of idle historians to do their worst. The failure will never be known.

So it is with yesterday's piece. For some time the arguments have been running as to was to blame for the disaster in Afghanistan. One argument is over whether it was the worst foreign policy failure since Suez.

Certainly, it was a foreign policy failure – but one shared with the Americans. But, politics aside, it was also an egregious military failure, particularly of the senior ranks who, at crucial points in the campaign did not ask for more troops, even though they were offered.

Back in 2014, the Brass did indeed admit their errors, conceding that they were "underprepared and under-resourced". In the torrent of coverage of the moment, that seems to have been forgotten. It is our job to remind them. Lessons forgotten can never be learnt.

Also published on Turbulent Times.