Politique Internationale — Over the course of your career, you have observed the major geopolitical upheavals at close quarters: the Cold War, the end of History – as it was called – the end of the end of History... And now the return of high-intensity warfare. Of all these episodes, what was predictable and what was not?
François Lecointre — Nobody can predict everything. Human creativity is too powerful and historical events too frequent to be able to make precise predictions about the consequences of certain factors. It would be stupid to try and play Nostradamus. As it happens, on 11 September 2011, I was at a meeting at the army headquarters. I still remember the absolute astonishment that reigned in that room. If someone, a few days, weeks or months earlier, had told his fellow officers that two planes were going to crash into two towers in New York as part of a terrorist attack, everyone would have taken him for a joker...
What was predictable, however, was that the war would never end. After the fall of the Berlin Wall and the gradual disintegration of the Soviet ramparts, it was almost accepted that conflicts, at least in their traditional form, would become archaic and hark back to a bygone era. According to some, the world would be able to move on, people would give up war and humanity would embark on a process of general reconciliation. I never believed for a moment in this unilateral end to hostilities.
P. I. — What gave you the feeling that, contrary to the assertions of many ‘experts’, war still had a bright future ahead of it?
F. L. — We saw this on the ground. Our troops were still engaged in a large number of conflicts around the world. Admittedly, the areas were more circumscribed than in the recent past and we had to deal with groups of fighters rather than regular armies. But this context of failed states, with major disorders at the end of the day, showed that we were at the antipodes of a pacified humanity. Moreover, we must never forget the source of the feeling of security that can be experienced in most developed countries. This stability, which often coincides with economic, technological and military domination, has been hard-won and has given rise to both resentment and envy, so that other countries want to regain control. So the seeds of confrontation are not buried very deep.
P. I. — Alongside the war that is coming to an end, another idea has gained ground: that of a clean war. We are reminded of the Gulf War, with images that seem to come straight out of video games. And talk of surgical strikes, as if collateral damage didn’t exist. And as if there weren’t much risk involved in waging war. Where do we stand today with this concept of clean war?
F. L. — Barbarity is still with us. Let’s go back to Belle du Seigneur: Albert Cohen depicts war as ‘babouinerie’. Well, this baboonery is never very far away. Some conflicts are marked by a very strong technological supremacy on the part of this or that protagonist, who can campaign on the theme of ‘zero deaths’. But this supremacy is short-lived: it allows the conflict to ‘open’ favourably but, sooner or later, the confrontation descends to a certain level of primitiveness; at that point, there is no longer any question for a single second of talking about a clean war.
Today, the impact of this primitiveness is all the greater because the rules of war has been eroded. There was a time when war was in some ways a continuation of politics, with rules that were imposed on the belligerents. Whether we think of chivalry or the Red Cross, there were guidelines. Today, these rules are more often than not broken. War has taken on other forms, starting with terrorism, where principles and other conventions have disappeared from the horizon. Even when technologically dominated, an adversary still has the means to cause harm. I hear certain actors or commentators say that we are going to eradicate terrorism: this is a false remark; we are not going to eradicate anything at all; we are going to fight the terrorists as we would fight an enemy, knowing that they can strike back blow for blow, in an extremely primitive context.
P. I. — To what extent is technological innovation a bulwark protecting military personnel from a multitude of risks?
F. L. — Our soldiers are very clear about the conditions under which a confrontation can take place. They know the gains that can be made through technological domination; they also know, as I mentioned earlier, that primitiveness can quickly make its presence felt; and they know that, no matter how elaborate the tactics, this primitiveness remains an inescapable element.
Technology is often considered in a global way, but in reality it covers several very different facets, with more or less accomplished developments depending on the segments of activity in which we operate. For the last twenty years, digital progress has been particularly explicit in the context of our coordination actions: in concrete terms, digital technology provides a very detailed understanding of the entire environment – enemy positions, the presence of individuals, specific features of the terrain, etc. – with a range of data that optimises communication between all our intervention forces.
Does this mean that exchanges are definitively safe from the slightest imponderable? There’s an episode that stuck in my mind. It’s a bit remote, dating back to the Gulf War, but it’s still relevant today, despite the evolution of the technological base. At the start of its deployment, the Daguet division had only radio navigators to help it make headway in the desert. The inertia of these navigators was significant because the pulses sent by the radio beacons were too infrequent. This was not a problem for large boats navigating in the middle of the ocean, but it was very restrictive for land-based navigation, which had to follow the relief of the terrain. Satellite navigators were soon made available to the forces. They were more accurate, had less inertia and were adopted by all the pilots who abandoned radio navigation.
However, during the ground offensive, the United States decided to distort all the satellite data in order to protect its troops and remain the only country with the best navigation. Thank goodness some of us still had radio navigators and the skills to use them. Without them, we would have been unable to launch the divisional offensive for several hours. Technological innovation enables us to make tremendous strides, but it remains dependent on the smooth running of pipes, cables and networks of all kinds. With the risk that these infrastructures and processes could be hampered.
P. I. — On the subject of the ‘zero deaths’ you mentioned: if we push this to its logical conclusion, could this be interpreted as zero risk?
F. L. — More and more, we are ensuring that the combatant is less exposed to enemy fire. This means keeping a greater distance from enemy positions. To compensate for this distance, machines such as robots and drones are used. The use of these tools raises new concerns. In this case, I’m not talking about technical issues, but moral ones. Within our armed forces, we have set up an ethics committee to look into the use of these devices, which are constantly being developed. I’d like to come back to the notion of video games: just because the enemy is further away doesn’t mean we’re any less stressed inside. Post-traumatic stress is just as much of a threat to combatants operating robotic devices. We already realised this a few years ago after the return to base of American drone pilots who had eliminated targets from which they could only make out computer outlines. The same pilots would arrive at the hangar in the morning with a can of booze in their hand and an apparently relaxed look on their faces, as if they were going to do a routine job. Not so. New environments create new forms of risk.
P. I. —Everything changes but nothing changes, as the saying goes...
F. L. — When a war persists, it quickly takes on a primitive form. With the 14-18 war as the ultimate horizon. Look at what’s happening in Ukraine: positions have hardened and a logic of confrontation is emerging, reminiscent of the First World War. Both sides are stockpiling ammunition with a view to a long-term conflict. The situation in Gaza is also reminiscent of 14-18: the underground tunnels are a network of infrastructure that allows Hamas fighters to bury themselves. One wonders whether Israel will choose to dislodge its enemy with a flamethrower. During the First World War, there was the episode of the Dragon’s Cave, on the Chemin des Dames: French and Germans fought hand-to-hand in an underground quarry where it was so dark that, to distinguish a comrade from an enemy, the only solution was to touch the buttons on the uniform to guess, from their relief, who it was.
P. I. — The world is living in a time of ‘polycrisis’. Are collective solutions, such as European defence, a way of responding to this state of affairs? Specifically, is European defence really on track?
F. L. — This defence exists: it is NATO and its integrated command. It is illustrated by concrete achievements, such as joint operational exercises between member countries, shared procedures and a common doctrine. NATO has a military purpose, but politics is never far away, with the debates that go with it. At present, Europe does not want to be seen as a vassal of the United States within this alliance. This is why we are talking about the ‘European pillar’ of NATO, i.e. the possibility of using NATO resources – which, for the most part, are the international headquarters and the national armies of the member countries, most of which are European – in commitments that would be decided by the Europeans themselves to deal with crises that concern them alone. There is still much progress to be made in this area, starting with the need for Europeans to share a common vision of the degree of autonomy they intend to achieve vis-à-vis the Americans.
Finally, we cannot talk about the autonomy of European defence without addressing the essential problem of the defence industry. How can we ensure that NATO is not used as a pretext to allow the Americans to exchange the security they promise to guarantee us for the complete and unrestrained opening up of the European defence market to American industry?
P. I. — Was it a taste for risk that drew you to a career in the military?
F. L. — That wasn’t my motivation at all. Generally speaking, a taste for risk has nothing to do with it. When the probability exists – and it’s not just a working hypothesis – that you could die in an operation, you go well beyond risk: you take on board the fact that you are operating in a threatening environment, with the need to do everything possible to limit or control the danger. Quite quickly, the perception of danger becomes consubstantial with our activity. Nonetheless, when the tension mounts, when the battle draws nearer, our inner feelings undergo intense upheaval, sometimes bordering on obsession.
P. I. — How did you deal with the risk in practical terms?
F. L. — For the young officer that I was, the question is the same as for any soldier on an operation: how am I going to manage my fear? Operational preparation is one thing, and God knows we go through all the training over and over again, but the reality of the field is quite another: no matter how good you are, it doesn’t stop you worrying. The second element linked to this concrete apprehension – and that’s why I was talking about obsession – consists of these images that can go round and round. In my case, which is anything but an exception, the very remoteness of the confrontation with the NRBC (nuclear, radiological, biological, chemical) danger encouraged speculation on what the effects of contamination on myself or my comrades would be. The time given over to this exercise in involuntary speculation created a particular, nagging fear. This fear is different from the physical reaction you feel when the danger is immediately present, at the start of the assault, for example, when the impact of the gunfire clatters around you and all your instincts tell you to hit the ground or run away.
P. I. — So what do you do to hold on to your position? What ensures that, despite everything, you don’t evade your mission?
F. L. — We remain standing because we are not alone. Even when the aforementioned tumultuous situations are building to a crescendo, we are surrounded by comrades in arms whose gaze we must be able to bear. If you can’t, you lose their esteem. And if you don’t command a modicum of respect, it’s hard to command. The duty to set an example is a powerful incentive to do your job as well as possible. In this case, to do your duty.
P. I. — How has your perception of risk changed from the young soldier you were to the high-ranking soldier you are today? Given that your environment has changed, what do you come up against that you didn’t before?
F. L. — Belonging to a cabinet, a decision-making circle, a staff, exposes you to a wide variety of interlocutors. The confrontation is very much about ideas: how to develop them, present them and defend them. From time to time, the debates are lively. It’s the same with budgetary issues: at the top of the military hierarchy, we spend a lot of time ensuring that the programming laws take our needs into account. To do this, we write, rewrite, rewrite, so that the documents are as close as possible to the requirements of our projects. This too can be a source of tension.
I’m inclined to think that once you’ve been through the ordeal of fire, nothing much can or should happen to you. Let’s say, you’ve been inoculated against a lot of pitfalls. I have no nostalgia for my early, highly operational years. Other than to say that the uniqueness of the military is something quite fantastic. The system is such that we are deeply united in order to move forward. The bonds between us are a natural phenomenon. We live in a close relationship that is constantly being reactivated.
P. I. — Before publishing Entre guerres, did you have any other writing projects under your belt?
F. L. — I’ve written a lot during my career, articles first and foremost. It’s not the same as working on a book. The project seemed interesting to me as long as I went for something intimate and deeply sincere. Not to indulge in speculation about this or that case. My friend François Sureau encouraged me. I didn’t have a predefined plan for this book. On the other hand, I did know that I wanted to communicate a central element: the unique commitment that is the profession of arms, its environment and its specific realities. Nothing would be more dangerous than to trivialise it, and military status does not protect against such a risk: I remember that, when I was Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces, there was talk of adapting the European Working Time Directive to French law for our men. Together with the President of the Republic, the Prime Minister and the Minister for the Armed Forces, we fought against this distortion, which went far beyond a simple adaptation of working hours. This was a complete misunderstanding of the principle and functioning of our organisation. It’s a pyramidal organisation, not a siloed one, where the link, self-sacrifice and availability are some of our cardinal values.
P. I. — Such a special commitment, you say. In all these years, have you ever doubted it?
F. L. — We work in a profession where we can be called upon to give death by order. And receive it, of course. It’s easy to sense the range of heightened feelings that underlie it: fear, violence, even a certain animality at times... No one in this profession of arms can avoid asking questions about these behavioural traits, which are so prevalent at the heart of the action. That’s why the collective aspect of action is so important. That’s why vocation is based on very strong elements. That’s why the fraternity of arms fosters a climate like no other.
P. I. — There’s a very real risk emerging at the moment, and it’s not just a military risk: it’s the shortage of talent, with human resources management as a backdrop. At a time when there has never been so much talk about the search for meaning, resilience and personal fulfilment, how are the armed forces managing to recruit?
F. L. — This year, the French President floated the idea of sending Western – and therefore French – troops to Ukraine. This position caused quite a stir in our country, not to say controversy. On the contrary, I think it was very salutary that the President opened up the debate in this way. Not only because the use of ground troops is not a taboo question, but also because the issue of commitment is at the heart of our times. Are there any causes worth risking one’s life for? I am reminded of the words of the Czechoslovak philosopher Jan Patočka: ‘A life that is not prepared to sacrifice itself is an amputated life, whose death has already seized it behind its back.
By extension, being a member of the armed forces offers many people a way to energise their youth, by discovering new horizons, taking on new challenges and making lifelong friends. All of these elements are powerful levers for inspiring people to join our armed forces.
P. I. — Attracting skills is all very well, but retaining them is even better. How do armies manage to keep their people? How can they avoid the risk of ‘staff turnover’ that threatens almost every sector of activity in France?
F. L. — We regularly talk about the material living conditions of military personnel but, important as they are, this is not the lever that the armed forces use as a priority to retain their staff. Experience shows that the men and women in our armed forces want two things above all else if they are to plan ahead for the long term. Firstly, to be able to exercise responsibilities, and secondly, to be offered the opportunity to learn one or more trades. In short, we need to be able to offer all those who serve in the armed forces the opportunity to develop their skills, which means monitoring their careers as closely as possible. This notion of career is essential. It is through this that each soldier can feel part of the life and destiny of the institution he or she has chosen to join to serve his or her country, and can understand that his or her professional destiny is intertwined with the future of the armed forces and the nation. However, there is no question of underestimating the material aspect which, for several years now, has been the subject of much greater attention than in the past. For example, how do you secure access to property when there is a regular succession of moves? How can we ensure that spouses have access to professional opportunities and are not forced to give up their careers? How can the most effective social protection systems be put in place? All these questions, and many others, are acute issues within the armed forces: tangible answers have been provided, but improvements are still needed. We are well aware that managing a person’s career also means trying to preserve a family balance.
P. I. — We are well aware of these concerns. But on this issue, as on so many others, how can the military make its voice heard?
F. L. — By definition, military personnel are bound by a duty of reserve. This goes hand in hand with unfailing discipline and availability. You could even say that these three elements – the duty of reserve, discipline and availability – are an integral part of our profession. This undoubtedly has the corollary of limiting the possibility of expression, but that’s the way things are. This state of affairs creates a real obligation for politicians: given that no power relationship – like a trade union, for example – is allowed to exist between them and the armed forces, they have a duty to take scrupulous care to preserve the living conditions of military personnel and their families. It was in this spirit that the High Committee for the Evaluation of Military Conditions (HCECM) was created, and each year it submits a report on this subject to the President of the Republic, the head of the armed forces, who is primarily responsible for fulfilling this obligation.
P. I. — Coming back to the missions of the armed forces, some political leaders are talking about the possibility of intervention on national territory, in sensitive areas – such as certain suburbs – where there are high levels of social tension. What are we to make of this? If such a scenario were to occur, what additional risks would it entail for the military?
F. L. — Such a hypothesis is nonsense. First of all, it completely contradicts the very essence of our armies. We give death on orders with the deliberate use of force. An operation to restore civil order in any place whatsoever will be carried out in strict compliance with self-defence, which is the basis for the use of force on national territory. It will always be carried out by the forces of law and order, who are trained, organised and equipped for the task. Can you imagine what it would be like if the armed forces were to be involved in this type of action? Armies use battle tanks, assault helicopters and fighter planes. It would make no sense, and would not be at all effective.
P. I. — You talk about the necessary recognition of the profession of arms and those who practise it. But what about the public’s knowledge of the military environment? What about knowledge of the political environment? Does this still need to be perfected?
F. L. — In a great democracy like ours, awareness of the centrality of certain issues comes from debate. Without debate, there is no interest in the climate or education or any other subject, apart from purchasing power, which concerns every citizen. If military commitments are not debated, no one will feel concerned by what our armies do when they are deployed abroad. They only act in the name of France, in other words, in the name of all of us and involving the responsibility of each and every one of us. This is why the constitutional reform decided in 2008 is an excellent thing. Article 35 of the Constitution now states that for each military engagement ‘the government shall inform Parliament of its decision to involve the armed forces abroad, no later than three days after the intervention begins. It shall specify the objectives pursued. This information may give rise to a debate which shall not be followed by a vote’.
The same article specifies that ‘when the duration of the intervention exceeds four months, the government shall submit its extension to Parliament for authorisation’. This creates the conditions for a debate that I believe is absolutely necessary. However, since this amendment was made, although the obligation for the government to inform Parliament within three days of the launch of an operation has been complied with, the submission to Parliament for a vote of authorisation to continue an operation if it exceeds four months has never taken place. I deplore this, because it is on this condition that a debate could really take place that would make the French aware of what their armed forces are doing. It is for this reason, once again, that I welcome the debate that the President of the Republic’s mention of a possible deployment of troops on Ukrainian territory has sparked in our society.
There is certainly room for improvement in terms of political awareness of the armed forces and their unique nature. However, many members of the defence committees of both chambers are very familiar with military affairs, and welcoming these parliamentarians, as well as journalists and senior civil servants, to IHEDN sessions is bearing fruit. Lastly, the presence of high-ranking military personnel in the offices of the Prime Minister and the Minister for the Armed Forces, the existence of a special staff at the Élysée Palace and, more fundamentally, the very close relationship between the Chief of Defence Staff and the President of the Republic ensure that the main political leaders have a very detailed understanding of military issues, whether strategic, operational or programmatic.
