Abstract: This paper examines why militarily advanced states often fail to achieve their objectives through foreign policy efforts despite possessing superior forces relative to an adversary. Based on a political-strategic model, this research argues that the political legitimacy of a state with respect to its decision-making and level of strategic coherence will determine whether or not the state realises its intended objectives in conflict, whereas military capabilities are found to be less relevant than previously assumed. The research employs theoretical and conceptual arguments to provide empirical support for the claim that military defeat may result from weak political legitimacy, ambiguous objectives, dysfunctional relationships between civilian and military authorities, and a lack of flexibility in strategy formulation by a state’s leaders.
Problem statement: What are the ways in which the erosion of legitimacy undermines the strategic goals of military powers that have otherwise demonstrated an advantage in terms of military capability and convert tactical victories into political defeats?
So what?: Military planners and strategists need to include assessing legitimacy as an integral part of their campaign planning processes in addition to the traditionally measured indicators of military power (i.e., strength). To accomplish this will require a paradigmatic shift in doctrine to see public opinion and legal norms as critical strategic factors affecting outcomes rather than simply operational constraints.
Strategic Victory?
The underlying issue of modern military history is one of a great paradox; how can states with vast superiority in resources (defence spending), technology and professionalism repeatedly lose wars to much weaker adversaries?[1] The repeated loss of stronger powers at the hands of weaker ones is a stark reversal from what would be expected based on classical realist thought and the foundation of international relations theory. Classical realists such as Hans Morgenthau and Kenneth Waltz argue that power, and thus, security is primarily determined by material capabilities.[2] Thus, military strength, which is defined by material capabilities (tanks, ships, aircraft, divisions), is the primary means of measuring a state’s ability to exercise power in international politics and, therefore, to successfully impose its will upon other states.[3]
However, over the last eighty years, the empirical record has repeatedly demonstrated that material strength is not always sufficient for military success. The list of examples includes the French defeats in Indochina and Algeria, and the U.S. experiences in Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq. Similarly, the Soviet and Russian defeats in Afghanistan and Ukraine demonstrate the same pattern: military superiority does not necessarily translate into strategic victory.[4] Moreover, these conflicts also illustrate that while the physical destruction of enemy forces and the capture of territory are essential to achieving military objectives, they are insufficient to achieve long-term strategic and political objectives.[5] Ultimately, the purpose of war is not to defeat an enemy’s armed forces but to establish a lasting, politically acceptable government or regime that serves the interests of the victorious power.[6] Therefore, when a militarily superior power fails to convert its kinetic victories into a legitimate and stable form of governance, then, despite achieving every military victory, it loses the overall struggle. The continued divergence between military proficiency and strategic failure necessitates a critical reevaluation of the components of effective power within the international system.[7]
The continued divergence between military proficiency and strategic failure necessitates a critical reevaluation of the components of effective power within the international system.
The modern strategic environment worsens the paradox of the described weakness. Asymmetric wars do not typically involve battles between opposing state armed forces, but instead involve weaker actors – whether insurgent groups, guerrillas or hybrid adversaries – who seek to avoid direct combat with their opponents; and use political warfare, information operations and prolonged resistance to compensate for the difference in material strength.[8] In those cases, the conflict space is no longer limited to the battlefield, but also encompasses other social, cultural and informational spaces.[9] Success in those conflicts is increasingly determined by whose narrative prevails, what the population believes, and whose population supports them. Additionally, there has been an increase in globalisation of the media and the strengthening of international regulatory frameworks and norms (such as the LOAC).[10] If a country’s actions are seen as violating some aspect of the LOAC (e.g., proportionality, sovereignty), there may be consequences, including loss of international legitimacy, sanctions, and even the departure of coalition partners.[11]
The Realist Baseline and Limits
The Realist School of Thought provides the foundation for this research. International Relations is primarily an anarchical environment in which countries attempt to survive and achieve security by accumulating power.[12], [13] Offensive Realism, as developed by John Mearsheimer, asserts that nations are naturally inclined to grow their power relative to their neighbours and that military strength ultimately determines a nation’s relative power.[14] The Realist paradigm has accurately predicted some of the behaviors we observe in the cases we will examine: powerful countries tend to intervene in areas they consider strategically important (U.S. in the Middle East, Russia in the “near abroad”) and that these interventions prompt “balance” responses from opposing parties – both militarily (i.e. insurgencies) and diplomatically (i.e. the formation of alliances against the party intervening).[15]
However, the Realist School’s emphasis on the material aspects of international relations makes it ill-suited to explaining political outcomes in conflict zones. It can explain why the United States was able to remove the Iraqi army in three weeks, but it cannot explain why it was unable to establish a stable Iraqi government after doing so. It views legitimacy as a transitory issue, subordinate to control through the use of force. As noted by military theorist David Galula in his influential treatise on counterinsurgency, the population is the determining factor.[16] Control of territory requires control of people, and control of people requires a degree of accepted authority that coercion cannot produce. Therefore, while Realism can identify the sources of potential intervention, it cannot predict outcomes. Additionally, Realism can describe the catalyst for conflict, but not the fuel for continued conflict or the structure necessary to bring conflict to a close.
Constructivism: The Power of Legitimacy and Norms
Constructivism, as a theoretical approach to international relations, fills the substantial gap in explanatory capacity identified by Realism. According to constructivism, the structures of international politics are not merely physical, but also social and are built upon shared ideas, norms, identities and understandings.[17] Thus, power is not simply what you have (tanks, dollars), but rather what others recognise and accept. Martha Finnemore and Kathryn Sikkink have demonstrated how the expectation of acceptable conduct affects state behaviour in terms of international norms.[18] The perception that a military intervention is illegitimate, whether due to violations of sovereignty, excessive harm to civilians, or the absence of a UN mandate, results in a normative reaction against the intervenor. That reaction translates into actual constraints: decreased cooperation from allies, refusal to cooperate from the local population, and higher costs in terms of diplomacy and finance.[19]
Constructivism, as a theoretical approach to international relations, fills the substantial gap in explanatory capacity identified by Realism.
Therefore, legitimacy acts as a strategic “force multiplier” or, in the absence thereof, a “force inhibitor.”[20], [21] A military operation that takes place under a widely accepted mandate (for example, the 1991 liberation of Kuwait) gains widespread support among a coalition of states and the acquiescence of the local population, thereby reducing the political and military cost of victory. On the other hand, an operation considered to be an illegal war of choice (such as the 2003 invasion of Iraq) generates resistance at all levels, thereby converting a tactical victory into a strategic quagmire. Constructivism, therefore, explains the critical link between the military action taken and the resulting political outcome: the social perception of that action by those affected (domestic and international).
Connecting Politics and Force
While theory alone does not win wars, it must be implemented through the formulation of a sound strategy. Strategy is the essential connection between the political purpose behind a war and the military power available to implement that purpose.[22] In the words of Carl von Clausewitz, “War is not merely an act of policy but a true political instrument, a continuation of political intercourse, carried on with other means.”[23] This famous quote emphasises that military action should be subservient to, and serve, a well-defined and realistic political objective. A coherent strategy exists when the objectives are clearly articulated, reasonably achievable, and pursued through the coordinated use of all instruments of national power – Diplomacy, Informational, Military, and Economic (DIME).
A coherent strategy exists when the objectives are clearly articulated, reasonably achievable, and pursued through the coordinated use of all instruments of national power.
It is the failure to articulate such coherence that defines contemporary strategic failures. Stephen Walt notes that large states often suffer from “mission creep,” wherein vague initial objectives (e.g. “counter-terrorism,” “democracy promotion”) evolve into expansive, costly programs of state-building with unclear success criteria and exit strategies.[24] Furthermore, a dysfunctional relationship between the civil and military components of the state exacerbates this problem. Leaders seeking to avoid the immediate and long-term costs associated with establishing a stable political system, assign military forces to achieve inherently political objectives. Military organisations, in turn, focus on measurable, kinetic metrics – e.g. enemies killed, territory cleared – and neglect the complex political engineering required for lasting stability.[25] This division between civil and military leadership creates a lethal disconnection – the operational campaign advances, but the political strategy remains stagnant or absent.
Case Studies: Legitimacy and Coherence in Action
The theoretical constructs of legitimacy deficits and strategic incoherence are supported by ample empirical evidence from the experiences of the world’s largest military powers. A comparative analysis of the United States, Russia, and France reveals a common pattern of strategic failure, despite the differing nature of their respective political systems and strategic cultures.
The United States: Superiority in Tactics, Failure in Strategy
The United States represents the quintessential example of military dominance paired with strategic frustration. Since the end of the Cold War, the United States has maintained an uncontested global military reach, superior technology, and the ability to project force to any point on the globe.[26] Despite this, its major military interventions have not culminated in clear-cut victories, but in retreat, stalemate, or the collapse of allied regimes.
The 2003 invasion of Iraq serves as a paradigmatic example of the consequences of illegitimacy and poor strategy. Politically, the invasion was undertaken on questionable grounds (WMD), without a UN Security Council mandate to unify its allies (notably France and Germany), and without the consent of a large segment of the Arab world.[27] This legitimacy deficit associated with the invasion was compounded by a catastrophic failure of strategic coherence. Initially, the objective of the invasion was disarmament, then regime change, then democratisation–and each of these objectives was ambiguous, contradictory, and unclearly articulated. The military plan for the invasion was brilliant for the conventional phase, but there was no viable plan for maintaining stability in Iraq following the invasion. Specifically, the decision to dismantle the Iraqi army and undertake an aggressive “de-Baathification” policy – made with little appreciation for the complexities of Iraqi society – eliminated many of the institutions necessary for maintaining order in Iraq, and created a large reservoir of resentment and armed opposition to the U.S.-backed government.[28] Consequently, U.S. strategy throughout the conflict was largely reactive, oscillating between using overwhelming force to clear out insurgents and attempting to adopt a counter-insurgency strategy that would have protected civilians, but was undermined by the lack of a consistent commitment to supporting a legitimate and functional Iraqi government from either Baghdad or Washington.[29] The U.S. military achieved victory in every engagement it fought, but was incapable of creating an Iraqi government that could stand on its own, resulting in an eight-year occupation and the resurgence of the insurgency.
Moreover, the United States experienced a similar dynamic in Afghanistan over a period of two decades. Although the invasion was initially legitimised by the 9/11 attacks and supported by the United Nations, the mission gradually transformed itself into an endless program of nation-building.[30] Strategic coherence was destroyed by competing objectives regarding the extent to which the U.S. should focus on counter-terrorism raids versus protecting civilians, the constant rotation of military commanders with differing approaches, and the increasing dependency on a corrupt government in Kabul that lacked legitimacy in the eyes of the Afghan people.[31] The Taliban, operating from within the social networks of the country, and claiming to represent the struggle for independence against foreign occupation, engaged in a war of attrition against the government of Kabul and its international supporters.[32] Ultimately, the collapse of the Afghan National Security Forces in 2021, and the subsequent collapse of the U.S.-backed government in Kabul, were not the result of a military defeat, but the final, inevitable consequences of a political and strategic failure – the failure to create a state viewed as legitimate by a large portion of its own population.[33]
Legitimacy-Centred Strategy would require a thorough assessment of the pre-war conditions in Iraq, of the social structures, and a plan to incorporate them into the new order, rather than destroy the current ones. Political-Strategic Alignment, supported by a Unified Political-Strategic Authority (for example, a civilian representative with authority over all aspects of DIME), could have prevented the military effort from outpacing the political one. Civil-Military Governance Reform could also have provided military leaders with a more honest assessment of what the military could accomplish with force and established a unified strategy from the outset, rather than allowing a destructive civil-military divide to develop over time.
Civil-Military Governance Reform could also have provided military leaders with a more honest assessment of what the military could accomplish with force and established a unified strategy from the outset, rather than allowing a destructive civil-military divide to develop over time.
A similar situation occurred over 20 years in Afghanistan, as indicated by Findings 4 and 5. Initially, the mission’s legitimacy began to erode as it transitioned into an intractable nation-building endeavour with a lack of strategic coherence. Over the course of the mission, the U.S. and other nations were able to go through several different strategies, were still reliant on a corrupt central government that had no legitimacy among the local population and were unable to provide durable protection against Taliban retaliation for the Afghan population. As a result of the military’s organisational inertia and their emphasis on rotational, kinetic metrics, they hindered the local patient efforts necessary for stability.
Implementing the Recommendations: An Integrated Power Systems approach should have been employed from the very beginning of the mission, treating governance, economic development, and information operations as being equivalent to military action, and not as secondary forms of support. In addition, utilising Adaptive Strategic Learning, with rapid feedback loops from lower-level tactical units to upper-level doctrinal commands, would have allowed for strategic pivots to occur sooner, and with more frequency, and would have moved the mission away from a centralised, Kabul-based model. Most importantly, if the U.S. had established Clear, Limited, and Measurable Objectives at the beginning of the mission, such as “deteriorate Al Qaeda’s safe haven”, rather than “create a modern democracy”, it may have allowed for a viable exit strategy to occur before the mission became a never-ending, 20-year endeavour.
Russia: Coercion and the Failure of Compellence
Russia’s military campaigns provide a second type of model, one based almost exclusively on coercion and the direct establishment of political control but failing for similar basic reasons. Russia maintains a formidable military, modernised since 2008, and the world’s largest nuclear arsenal.[34] Nonetheless, Russia’s use of military force has consistently failed to produce stable and compliant political environments.
The Soviet-Afghan War (1979-1989) is a historical precursor to this model. The Soviet Union intervened in Afghanistan to prop-up a collapsing Communist government. While the Red Army was militarily dominant, the Soviet occupation was viewed from the start as an illegitimate foreign occupation imposing a godless ideology.[35] This legitimised the mujahideen insurgency in the eyes of the Afghan people and generated significant external support from the United States, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia. The Soviet Union attempted to destroy mujahedin strongholds but was unable to protect the population or create a credible Afghan government, resulting in a bloody stalemate and eventual humiliating defeat.[36]
This same pattern has been evident in Russia’s actions in Ukraine since 2014, and with even greater intensity since Russia’s 2022 full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Russia’s initial seizure of Crimea was successful because of the element of surprise and having a military presence already in place.[37] However, Russia’s larger ambitions — to force Ukraine to remain neutral or to be subject to Russia have stalled.[38] Russia’s legitimacy deficit is extreme. Russia’s justification for invading Ukraine – “denazification” and protection of ethnic Russians – has been rejected by virtually all of the Ukrainian population and the international community.[39] This has led to unprecedented diplomatic and economic isolation for Russia, the creation of a united Western coalition to provide massive military assistance to Ukraine, and the courageous and determined resistance of the Ukrainian population and military.[40]
Russia’s legitimacy deficit is extreme. Russia’s justification for invading Ukraine – “denazification” and protection of ethnic Russians – has been rejected by virtually all of the Ukrainian population and the international community.
Additionally, Russia’s strategic effort has been characterised by incoherence. Russia’s initial assumption that a rapid decapitating blow could be delivered to the Ukrainian government in Kyiv was proven to be incorrect, indicating poor intelligence and inadequate logistics.[41] Russia’s military effort has frequently appeared disconnected, with difficulty in coordinating combined arms operations, and with a reliance on attritional artillery barrages that cause significant civilian casualties, thereby undermining any argument that Russia’s goal is to liberate Ukraine.[42] Russia’s military might is undeniable, but its inability to utilise that military power in ways that gain political acceptance by a large portion of the Ukrainian people and the international community has resulted in a protracted war of attrition that has diminished Russia’s military, eroded its economy, and created a hostile coalition against it.[43]
France: The Disintegration of Post-Colonial Influence
France’s involvement in the Sahel region of Africa represents a third model of how legitimacy can erode over time, rendering previously reliable military relationships ineffective. France possesses the best military power-projection force in Europe and has extensive experience in its former colonial sphere.[44] Operation Serval in Mali in 2013 was initially praised as a model of intervention – a rapid, effective response to a jihadist advance requested by the Malian government, with UN and AU backing. The operation restored the territorial integrity of Mali and was supported by the local population.[45]
However, the follow-on operation – Operation Barkhane, a broader counter-terrorism mission, began to unravel. The strategic objective of degrading terrorist groups across the vast Sahel region was impossible to accomplish. Militarily, French forces achieved numerous tactical victories, but terrorist groups adapted to the French presence, fragmented into smaller units, and expanded their influence.[46] Politically, the operation became mired in the problems of working with often corrupt, unpopular host-nation governments. Anti-French sentiment, fueled by nationalist actors and jihadist propaganda, grew dramatically. France was increasingly viewed not as a security partner, but as a neocolonial overlord acting in its own interests, propping up illegitimate governments, and failing to develop the economy or provide long-term security.[47]
This erosion of legitimacy had direct effects on the military efforts of France. Local populations became increasingly reluctant to cooperate, host-nation governments became increasingly ambivalent, and eventually, military juntas in Mali and Burkina Faso directly called for France’s departure and turned to Russian Wagner Group mercenaries.[48]
While France’s military capabilities remained strong, the political license to operate was lost. The strategy employed by France – which failed to adequately prioritise building enduring local legitimacy and relied on a continued military presence – was ultimately unsustainable. France’s withdrawal from Mali in 2022 represented a significant strategic loss and illustrated that tactical superiority is meaningless without a sustaining political narrative.[49]
The strategy employed by France – which failed to adequately prioritise building enduring local legitimacy and relied on a continued military presence – was ultimately unsustainable.
France’s situation illustrates the necessity of a continual process of Adaptive Strategic Learning and Legitimacy-Centred Strategy. As long as the French had a static military posture that was centred around pursuing jihadist groups, it would ultimately become politically unsustainable. For France to continue to be perceived as legitimate by the people of Mali, it needed to be able to continually invest in Local Governance that was accountable and effective, not merely militarily aligned with France. This also meant a willingness to Decentralise Authority and adapt its approach to Mali’s local political realities, potentially at the expense of less direct control over events there, but with the local population owning what occurs there. The French did not do this. They failed to transition their focus from counterterrorism to a stabilisation strategy that utilised political savvy, and they were unable to transfer real decision-making authority. The French were subsequently expelled from Mali, which supports the idea that if the political basis of a mission collapses (as it did for France), even achieving success tactically will never support the mission.
Britain – Alliance Power and the Limits of Delegated Strategy
Britain’s professional military and its ability to leverage alliance relationships have not yielded strategic success. Like other members of the coalition, British military forces were operationally competent in both Iraq and Afghanistan; however, like those same allies, they were politically unsuccessful. Britain’s strategy mirrored that of the U.S., without providing a distinctively British framework for addressing the political issues at hand. British military involvement in these conflicts was further weakened by legitimacy deficits with regard to local populations, and domestic opposition grew over time. Thus, Britain’s experience clearly illustrates that the strength of alliance relationships will not compensate for the lack of political legitimacy.
In future military operations, Britain should conduct an independent Legitimacy Assessment and a Clarity of Objectives for any future intervention prior to deploying forces. Britain is responsible for providing a sovereign political response to the question: “In this region, what specific and achievable political conditions justify the risk to British Forces and advance a vital British interest?” The objectives must be defined, communicated and controlled by military design, not contrary.
It is essential to develop integrated power systems with alliance leadership: Instead of simply deploying troops as part of a U.S.-led operation, Britain will use its diplomatic and development capabilities to drive the integration of plans within alliances. Within a coalition, Britain can champion the Unified Political-Strategic Authority model for its area of responsibility and ensure that diplomatic, assistance, and military efforts are coordinated under one UK command that is focused on achieving a specific local political outcome. This transforms Britain’s participation in coalitions from a follower role to a lab for developing effective stabilisation practices.
The comparative table illustrates the article’s main argument by showing how the military capacity, legitimacy, strategic coherence, and outcomes of each of the four major powers are interconnected. As shown in the table, all four states exhibit low legitimacy and poor strategic coherence; this pattern is consistent, as they consistently result in strategic failures rather than political successes. The table also shows that, absent legitimacy, the four states with the greatest material power (the U.S., France, Britain, and Russia) will be unable to create lasting peace and stability in areas of conflict. This is similar for the medium to high capability states (Britain and France), as they will be unable to establish themselves as a stable force in an area of conflict without establishing a level of legitimacy both politically and locally.
Evidence of Failure, Not Theory, to Support Reform
The comparison of case studies shows that the findings are not abstract; they are the very specific, identifiable pathologies that led to the failure of each intervention. The U.S. was characterised by internal fragmentation and by strategic drift. Russia was mired in the fallacy that coercion can replace legitimacy. France failed to adjust its initially legitimate mandate to the shifting political landscape.
Conversely, the recommendations for reform provide a tailored solution for each identified failure mode. The recommendations propose the establishment of the institutional mechanisms – a rigorous assessment of legitimacy, unifying the political/military authority structure, establishing an integrated planning cell, and implementing adaptive learning structures – that would ensure the failures illustrated in these case studies do not recur. In this way, the cases demonstrate that strong militaries will be compelled to repeat the same cycles of tactical success and strategic loss unless the recommended paradigmatic change is implemented. Therefore, the proposed paradigmatic change is a practical necessity which is grounded in lessons from recent military experience rather than a theoretical exercise.
Conclusion
Military intervention has been a story of powerful nations repeatedly learning the same lesson: military strength is necessary for strategic victory, but is never sufficient on its own to achieve that victory. What truly matters are political victories. Political order cannot exist without legitimacy. Legitimacy is not based on fear; instead, it is based on consent.
The examples of the U.S., Russia, Britain, and France show that if you separate the use of force from political legitimacy and/or a coherent strategy, it will ultimately become a tool of diminishing returns. It consumes both blood and treasure while generating instability and resentment. Policymakers have to exercise extreme restraint. They should intervene only under very high thresholds, supported by a clear, compelling, and widely accepted rationale and by a viable political plan that includes adequate long-term resources. Military strategists need to re-conceptualise their roles. Their task is no longer simply to defeat an adversary, but to establish the circumstances that will result in a specific political outcome. Therefore, they need to think about themselves as governors and diplomats rather than warriors.
The examples of the U.S., Russia, Britain, and France show that if you separate the use of force from political legitimacy and/or a coherent strategy, it will ultimately become a tool of diminishing returns.
A military’s ultimate test of strength is not whether it can win the first battle, but whether it can sustainably uphold peace after the battle has ended. In today’s world, where information is used as a weapon and populations are the focal point of gravity, the most important terrain is the human mind. The side that achieves the greatest degree of legitimacy (the right to be obeyed) will ultimately have the greatest advantages, regardless of how many tanks and aircraft it possesses. For strong militaries to win wars, they must first understand that true power is relational, legitimised, and political at its core operational principles.
[1] Andrew J. R. Mack, “Why Big Nations Lose Small Wars: The Politics of Asymmetric Conflict,” World Politics 27, no. 2 (January 1975): 175–200.
[2] John J. Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2001), 55–82.
[3] Kenneth N. Waltz, Theory of International Politics (Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1979), 102–28.
[4] Ivan Arreguín-Toft, How the Weak Win Wars: A Theory of Asymmetric Conflict (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).
[5] David H. Ucko and Thomas A. Marks, “Violence in Context: Mapping the Strategies and Operational Art of Irregular Warfare,” Contemporary Security Policy 39, no. 2 (2018): 151–67.
[6] Carl von Clausewitz, On War, ed. and trans. Michael Howard and Peter Paret (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976), 87.
[7] G. John Ikenberry, Liberal Leviathan: The Origins, Crisis, and Transformation of the American World Order (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011), 45–67.
[8] T. X. Hammes, The Sling and the Stone: On War in the 21st Century (St. Paul, MN: Zenith Press, 2004).
[9] David Kilcullen, The Accidental Guerrilla: Fighting Small Wars in the Midst of a Big One (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
[10] Martha Finnemore and Kathryn Sikkink, “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change,” International Organization 52, no. 4 (Autumn 1998): 887–917.
[11] Ian Hurd, After Anarchy: Legitimacy and Power in the United Nations Security Council (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007).
[12] Finnemore and Sikkink, “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change.”
[13] Hew Strachan, The Direction of War: Contemporary Strategy in Historical Perspective (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013).
[14] Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics.
[15] Ibid., 29–54.
[16] Stephen M. Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1987).
[17] David Galula, Counterinsurgency Warfare: Theory and Practice (Westport, CT: Praeger Security International, 1964), 52–55.
[18] Alexander Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
[19] Finnemore and Sikkink, “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change.”
[20] Amitav Acharya, The End of American World Order, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2018).
[21] Ucko and Marks, “Violence in Context.”
[22] Strachan, The Direction of War.
[23] Clausewitz, On War, 87.
[24] Stephen M. Walt, The Hell of Good Intentions: America’s Foreign Policy Elite and the Decline of U.S. Primacy (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2023).
[25] Risa A. Brooks, Shaping Strategy: The Civil-Military Politics of Strategic Assessment (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008).
[26] Barry R. Posen, Restraint: A New Foundation for U.S. Grand Strategy (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2014).
[27] Acharya, The End of American World Order.
[28] Thomas E. Ricks, Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq (New York: Penguin Press, 2006).
[29] David Petraeus, “Learning Counterinsurgency: Observations from Soldiering in Iraq,” Military Review (January–February 2006): 2–12.
[30] Carter Malkasian, The American War in Afghanistan: A History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021).
[31] Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR), What We Need to Learn: Lessons from Twenty Years of Afghanistan Reconstruction (Arlington, VA: SIGAR, 2021).
[32] Antonio Giustozzi, The Taliban at War: 2001–2018 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019).
[33] Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR), Why the Afghan Government Collapsed (Arlington, VA: SIGAR, 2022).
[34] Dmitry Gorenburg, “Russian Military Reform and Modernization: Progress and Problems,” Journal of Slavic Military Studies 33, no. 2 (2020): 163–85.
[35] Gregory Feifer, The Great Gamble: The Soviet War in Afghanistan (New York: HarperCollins, 2009).
[36] Rodric Braithwaite, Afgantsy: The Russians in Afghanistan, 1979–89 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011).
[37] Michael Kofman and Rob Lee, “Not Built for Purpose: The Russian Military’s Ill-Fated Force Design for Large-Scale Combat Operations,” War on the Rocks, June 2, 2022.
[38] Serhii Plokhy, The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine (New York: Basic Books, 2015).
[39] Lawrence Freedman, “Why the War in Ukraine Is So Complicated,” Foreign Affairs, October 10, 2022.
[40] Kofman and Lee, “Not Built for Purpose.”
[41] “The Russian Military’s Debacle in Ukraine,” The Economist, March 19, 2022.
[42] Alexander Cooley and Daniel Nexon, Exit from Hegemony (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2020).
[43] Bruno Charbonneau, France and the New Imperialism: Security Policy in Sub-Saharan Africa (London: Routledge, 2016).
[44] Michael Shurkin, France’s War in Mali: Lessons for an Expeditionary Army (Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 2014).
[45] International Crisis Group, The Central Sahel: Scene of New Climate Wars? (Brussels: ICG, 2022).
[46] Caterina Lobenstein, “Why France Failed in Mali,” Die Zeit, February 17, 2022.
[47] Nathaniel Powell, “Barkhane’s End: France’s Military Failure in the Sahel,” Survival 64, no. 3 (2022): 73–90.
[48] Ibid.
[49] Stathis N. Kalyvas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006).
