I read Captain Russell Burgos's essay with both delight and empathy. He is obviously a talented and thoughtful scholar who has served his country in a vital way in very interesting times. My empathy comes from the fact that for the last 25 years I have divided my life between academic institutions and the Pentagon, where I have been on the planning end of four conflicts. Like Mr. Burgos, I have lived in a world where the realities of war and peace should have been the laboratory for the theories of international relations that I have learned and taught. Like Mr. Burgos, however, I often find the reality of contemporary war to be confusing. The theories that I have studied are a rather incomplete guide to the problems—both tactical and strategic—that the global war on terrorism has brought us.

Most academics in the field of international relations accept the fact that war is the extension of politics by other means. But war is also the extension of many other aspects of the human experience. War is not just a political act, it is a sociological, legal, psychological, and theological matter, as well. No single discipline is sufficiently powerful to comprehend war in its entirety. Indeed, historians not wedded to any particular social science theory have often done a better job of analyzing war than political scientists have. On what Burgos calls “the human factor,” historians clearly surpass political scientists, who are prone to avoidance when human beings enter the analytical arena.

This is not to argue that theories of international relations are useless. Nothing could be further from the truth. Could we possibly understand the war in Iraq without reference to liberal theories of democracy that encouraged us to take decisive action against Saddam Hussein? Could we understand the critique of the war in Iraq by some conservatives without reference to the tenets of realism? All analysts and government officials use theory, even though many are blind to the ramifications of the theories that guide their analysis. As Burgos's experience suggests, practitioners would benefit from questioning their theoretical roots to the same extent that professors may learn from practice.

Burgos correctly emphasizes the weakness of the normative aspect of international relations theories. While right and wrong are often derided or avoided in academic discussions, they are the stuff of real life. Soldiers live by their beliefs, and others are careful to measure our conduct against our ideals. Indeed, as the oldest, wealthiest, and most powerful democracy, the United States is held to a higher moral standard than other nations. We should not complain about that fact, we should relish it. In the end, legitimacy—particularly the perception that you are doing the right thing—is an awesome tool. When you do not have it, your hard power is degraded, and your soft power begins to evaporate.

In the pre-9/11 era, students of war and peace could enter the discussion of the legitimacy of wars with the aid of just-war theory. Today, however, the ability of nonstate actors to impose mass destruction on a nation requires a reexamination of that theory and the role of preemption and even preventive war. Decades hence, I do not know where such a reassessment will come out. I do know, however, that we need a better theory to fully comprehend a world where one must fight a global war against a non-state actor whose “SOPs” include the wanton murder of civilians and the almost feckless destruction of civil society.

The importance of allied support and legitimacy makes it incumbent on us to do a better job in explaining our motives and actions to attentive publics. Sadly, the United States government has failed in its attempts to explain adequately to foreign audiences what it is doing in its general foreign policy—and in its policy toward Iraq, in particular. The wave of international support after 9/11 has dissipated, and skepticism about Iraq has hardened into clear disapproval, even among many of our closest allies. While the skill of our governmental communications apparatus is only one variable in shaping public opinion, the Pew Research Center data—compiled before the Abu Ghraib debacle—are frightening. In only one western European nation (the United Kingdom) does America's favorability rating rise above 50 percent. In some important Middle Eastern nations, it is in single digits (e.g., 5 percent in Jordan).¹

This phenomenon may pass quickly, but we will have to work hard and creatively to make that happen.

While Burgos makes a strong point on the importance of legitimacy, his argument about how we approached the war in Iraq may need to be reassessed. War remains a costly lottery, but the risk aversion that is a staple of our theory is a relative concept. Risk must be related to relative power and threat. The sense of threat from Iraq was magnified by 9/11, Saddam's desire for weapons of mass destruction, his contacts with international terrorists, a barbaric record at home, and a history of aggression in the region.

The president took his case to the Congress, which after due deliberation gave its blessing. While Burgos construes this as an example of the “monopoly control the executive branch has over the war powers,” that is likely to be news to our legislators, whose predecessors came perilously close (five votes in the Senate) from canceling Operation Desert Storm. In Vietnam, the Congress ultimately used the power of the purse to stop completely U.S. participation in a war. The president has the policy initiative and informational advantages, but the Congress has great powers and knows how to use them. We should not confuse deference with impotence.

Another issue is the speed at which the war came. We did not move precipitously to war in Iraq. Indeed, the “rush to war” there took over a decade, punctuated by thousands of demarches, hundreds of skirmishes, and more than a dozen Security Council resolutions. In the end, we have 34 nations fighting with us there (42 in Afghanistan), more than enough to deflate the claim that the global war on terrorism has been an effort at “go[ing] it alone.”

I am not sure why Burgos raised the issue of partisanship in the army. While it is no secret that there are a disproportionate number of Republicans in the officer corps, neither Mr. Burgos nor Professor Holsti, who popularized this phenomenon, have been able to answer the “so what?” question that it begs.²

While being a Republican might be one factor in shaping a senior officer's recommendations, we need more research to find out in what cases the “Republican-ness” of the officer corps has had practical effects.

More powerful explanatory variables probably exist. Peter Feaver and Christopher Gelpi offer some interesting evidence in this area. While giving personality differences their due, they note that “service in the U.S. military is an important socialization experience that shapes individuals' attitudes. The military teaches lessons about the role of military force in American foreign policy and lessons about how military force ought to be used.”³

To my mind, this socialization is likely to outweigh party identification as a factor in shaping military advice. Lessons of the recent past, military-technical factors, and organizational ethos are other fertile areas for research into why senior officers recommend particular courses of action to their superiors. In my view, each of them is likely to be more powerful than party identification is in shaping officers' recommendations and actions.

In all, having served in the Reagan, Bush 41, Clinton, and Bush 43 administrations, I am impressed at how pliable the U.S. military is. In all four of these administrations, the military, after having its say on matters of war and peace, not only did what it was told, but also became an effective spokesperson for the policy of the moment. That said, I am not surprised that Burgos finds that soldiers want a dominant voice in matters of war and peace. After all, their lives are on the line, and their practical expertise is rare in our society and even in the executive branch of our government. In the end, however, willing obedience to civilian authority and professional performance are the standards, not the level of grumbling among soldiers living under tough conditions in the field.

Finally, Burgos remarked on “the seeming disdain in which those in uniform hold civilians.” I can't speak about Burgos's contacts, but the Center for Strategic and International Studies, in Washington, DC, addressed this issue in a study published in the year 2000. It asked over 11,000 people in uniform questions concerning how military professionals felt about civilians. Of the mostly enlisted respondents, 88 percent favored socializing with civilians, and 75 percent of the respondents believed that military personnel have a great deal of respect for civilian society.⁴

As far as military professionals feeling morally superior to American society as a whole, they are not alone in that regard. Physicians and university professors will, I am sure, agree with me on that point.

In conclusion, Russell Burgos's article has convinced me of the value of having political scientists serve in uniform. His experience is eloquent testimony to the value of combining advanced education and military service. The result will be smarter soldiers and more grounded professors.