Command: Coercion and Fairness

Command: Coercion and Fairness

Command: Coercion and Fairness
Every military is a vertical hierarchical organisation. At all levels of hierarchy, it operates on the twin principles of command and obedience. It is understood that there’s an interactive dynamic between the two, often expressed in the phrase, “Learn to obey; only then you can command.”

In reality, the two principles are neither simple nor straightforward. For instance, at the Nuremberg Trials following World War II, it was determined, among other things, that subordinates can obey only those commands that are lawful. If they act on an order that is demonstrably unlawful, they cannot hide behind the excuse that they were only obeying orders.

It was also determined that what is lawful is not merely a function of the rules and regulations of a military itself or the law of its parent state, but includes universally accepted legal and normative standards. A military force, for instance, couldn’t capture an area and then start exterminating entire populations, even if the law of that military’s country permits such killings. Occupation brings responsibilities, not just those of the parent state but also those imposed by the practice of nations.

It is the same with respect to uniformed soldiers that surrender. They cannot be lined up and executed. They are to be treated as per certain treaty provisions and domestic laws in conformity with those provisions. In other words, even war, a bloody affair, must be regulated according to certain norms of fighting and soldiering.

Wars have not always followed those rules, but there are now baselines which help us determine what has been done legally and what is/was patently illegal.

How does one define command? Roger H Nye in his The Challenge of Command writes: “To command is to do more than carry out orders and apply rules and regulations to the ebb and flow of military administration. Command calls for a creative act, spawned by a carefully carved vision of one’s mission and professional values. Great commanders have the confidence and courage to interpret rules and orders, and to put their personal stamp on the decisions guiding their force.”

This means that other aspects aside, command ultimately is a personal act, even as the person who commands draws his authority to do so because he has been authorised to perform that function by a lawful authority, which can be the military and above that by the state itself. This is why that person is rewarded for a success or held responsible for the failure of his mission, whether in peace or war, whether in an administrative or a fighting role. This is why we talk about good and bad commanders and distinguish great commanders from the lesser ones. If command were a simple, linear principle, all commanders would have been the same.

The manuals talk about the nature of command and break it down into the definition of command, its elements and its principles. At the most basic, command is a function of the authority a military commander lawfully exercises over subordinates by virtue of his rank or assignment. Note my italicising of lawfully which is in keeping with the accepted, universal norms that have evolved over the last hundred years and are equally important in relation to a military’s internal rules and regulations in keeping with the idea of soldiering.

Next, we come to the elements of command. The first is authority. It flows directly from the definition of command. The second is decision-making, which is again explicit to the definition. X commands Y to do task Z. The order to do Z is the decision taken by X and tasked to Y. That order (decision) is the responsibility of the commander, and the success of failure of the task or mission are also his, not that to the subordinate commanders. There were many factors — as there always are in battles and wars — Bonaparte lost at Waterloo, Gebhardt von Blucher’s timely arrival, better cavalry horses with the British, inclement weather that made it difficult for the French attacking uphill et cetera. In the end, it was Bonaparte who lost because he was the top commander.

But the command-obedience relationship is not a slave-master dynamic. That’s where leadership comes in. The commander(s) is not there just to move mechanical, inanimate objects around. He is dealing with men. His leadership task, therefore, relates as much to their welfare and morale as their discipline. Leadership is the responsibility of the function of command.

In other words, command is not just about firmness, though that is a crucial ingredient; it is also about care. A successful commander is the one who knows how to skillfully balance the two aspects.

But there’s something else, too. Some would call it prestige; I call it fairness. This aspect stands apart from the coercive aspects of command. The coercive aspect is about lawful authority that inheres in the hierarchical structures. X holds a senior rank. Period. He may not be a very likeable person — often the case — but his rank will beget the authority he enjoys. Fairness is not just about authority; it is about respect. Respect does not just flow from authority; it comes from prestige and prestige is a function of fairness and professionalism.

Interestingly, fairness has two aspects: personal and organisational. Personal is when the subordinates — at all levels — look up to the commander because he is fair and professionally sound. Organisational fairness is about a military force functioning according to certain rules of the game that are meant to promote organisational stability, integrity and cohesiveness. Put another way, when every member of the military force is convinced that the organisation (s)he belongs to is fair. No system is foolproof and there will always be grievances. After all, it’s all about human interaction and there are always good and bad commanders and sound and poor decisions. But if the system works, and people are taken care of, such incidents are more about exceptions that prove the rule rather than becoming the norm.

It should be obvious that the organisational aspect becomes increasingly important as the level of command rises. A section, platoon, company or battalion commander is closer to his men and can deal directly with them. But a section commander is even closer than a battalion commander. As the level of command increases, the organisational hierarchy and functions become more complex. The commander is not dealing directly — cannot — with all the officers and men under his command. That becomes the job of multiple subordinate commanders.

This is where organisational fairness and prestige become more important than the personal. Even so, the personal always weighs down the commander, especially the top commander. Every top commander leaves a legacy. That legacy impacts the organisational culture and ethos as also the professional outlook and workings of the military force. If the commander is seen to strengthen the rules that promote fairness, he strengthens the element of prestige; if not, he leaves behind him the legacy of coerciveness sans fairness.

There is a reason why the two must travel alongside. Sheer coerciveness tends to put pressure on organisational cohesiveness. And if the top commander uses his authority to create a sense of unfairness, his prestige points drop. That can have an undesirable domino effect down the hierarchy. It begins to impact morale, a vital ingredient for a force that is trained to generate violence, that kills and is ready to be killed. It’s not an average 9 to 5 job. If some people are prepared to shed blood, they do it for reasons other than what they are paid for.

Fairness, and with it, respect for rules and regulations, are crucial for the coercive aspect of command to keep the balance. One without the other is like a chair missing one of its legs. It remains unbalanced and wobbly.

The writer is a former News Editor of The Friday Times. He requests the readers to not read too much in the above, thank you! He reluctantly tweets @ejazhaider. 

The writer has an abiding interest in foreign and security policies and life’s ironies.