A Humble Beginning and Posthumous Publication

Carl von Clausewitz, a Prussian general and military theorist, harbored a modest ambition for his life’s work: to produce a study that would not be forgotten within two or three years of its completion. For decades, this aspiration showed little promise of fulfillment. When he died in 1831, his masterpiece remained an unfinished manuscript, a collection of notes and essays that his widow, Marie von Brühl, would courageously edit and publish in 1832 under the title “Vom Kriege” . This first edition garnered some scholarly attention but made minimal impact on military circles. The work was dense, philosophical, and radically different from the prevailing military literature of the era. For thirty-five years, it lingered in relative obscurity—known to specialists but seldom read, and even less frequently understood. A survey of European military literature in 1867 concluded that Clausewitz was “widely known but rarely read,” a fate that seemed to confirm his own fears about the ephemeral nature of intellectual contributions.

The Turning Point: Moltke the Elder’s Endorsement

The trajectory of Clausewitz’s legacy changed dramatically due to one man: Helmuth von Moltke, the architect of Prussia’s military victories over Austria in 1866 and France in 1870–71. As Chief of the Prussian General Staff, Moltke revolutionized warfare through meticulous planning, technological adaptation, and strategic innovation. Following the creation of the German Empire in 1871, Moltke publicly attributed his success to three foundational influences: the Bible, the Homeric epics, and the writings of Carl von Clausewitz. This endorsement, coming from the most celebrated military mind of the age, instantly transformed Clausewitz from an obscure theorist into a canonical authority.

Moltke’s validation resonated throughout European military academies and staff colleges. By 1873, a prominent German military journal declared that Clausewitz had “achieved the highest authority in military studies in Germany.” The journal further argued that the victories of 1866 and 1870 demonstrated how “disciplined, well-armed, tactically sound troops, excellently deployed, with railways, supplies, and communications well arranged, decided everything in war.” This “purely craftsman-like spirit,” the article claimed, was largely indebted to the disruptive theories of Clausewitz.

Clausewitz Versus Jomini: A Clash of Military Philosophies

To appreciate Clausewitz’s disruptive impact, one must understand the intellectual landscape he challenged. Throughout the early 19th century, European military thought was dominated by Antoine-Henri Jomini, a Swiss officer who served in the French and Russian armies. Jomini’s works, notably “Summary of the Art of War,” presented warfare as a science with fixed principles, precise geometries, and predictable outcomes. His textbooks were well-organized, translated into every major European language, and formed the curriculum at staff colleges from St. Petersburg to West Point. Jomini’s influence shaped the doctrines of the French, Russian, and American armies, and through his disciples—like W. von Willisen in Prussia and E. B. Hamley in Britain—permeated military thinking across the continent.

Clausewitz offered a stark contrast. Where Jomini saw science, Clausewitz saw art; where Jomini emphasized rules, Clausewitz emphasized chaos, friction, and the irreducible role of human psychology. He rejected the notion that victory could be achieved through geometric maneuvers or adherence to rigid formulas. Instead, he argued that war was a “continuation of politics by other means,” shaped by moral forces, chance, and the interplay of passions between nations. As later authority Rudolf von Caemmerer noted with near-terror, “Had it not been for Clausewitz, Jomini might have become Moltke’s teacher. Clausewitz freed us from all theoretical posturing and showed us what was truly essential.”

The Selective Adoption: How Moltke Interpreted Clausewitz

Despite the dramatic narrative of Moltke’s “discovery” of Clausewitz, their relationship was more complex than simple discipleship. Moltke had been a student at the Berlin Military Academy while Clausewitz served as its director, but there is no evidence the two ever interacted directly. According to Moltke’s biographer Eberhard Kessel, his diaries and letters contain few indications of deep engagement with Clausewitz’s texts. Instead, many of Clausewitz’s key ideas—the importance of moral forces, the desirability of seeking out and destroying the enemy, flexibility, self-reliance, and concentration of force—had already permeated the Prussian officer corps by 1815. These were the hallmarks of the era’s more liberal, forward-thinking young officers, standing in stark contrast to the conservative formalism still taught in many academies.

Moltke did not adopt Clausewitz wholesale; he absorbed those elements that aligned with his own beliefs and transmitted them to his disciples. In the latter half of the 19th century, Clausewitz’s image was filtered through Moltke to the German army and the world—much as Marx’s image would later be filtered through Lenin to the Russian people. It was not entirely inaccurate, but it was partial and somewhat distorted. Moltke’s own writings often echoed Clausewitz to the point of plagiarism:

– “The destruction of the enemy’s armed force is the paramount objective in war.”
– “No plan survives contact with the enemy.”
– “In war, what is done matters less than how it is done.”
– “Strategic principles hardly surpass the first principles of common sense… their value lies almost entirely in their application.”

These aphorisms, though Clausewitzian in spirit, were streamlined for practical use, stripped of their philosophical depth, and applied with ruthless efficiency.

Cultural and Social Impacts: The “Cult of Clausewitz” in Germany and Beyond

The period from 1870 to 1890 witnessed the rise of a distinct “Clausewitzian school” within German military thought. An entire generation of strategists—many of whom had served under Moltke—propagated his ideas, emphasizing flexibility, individual initiative, and the primacy of combat. Among the most influential was Verdy du Vernois, who argued that “attempting to transform strategy into a predetermined scientific system misunderstands its essence.” He stressed that “plans must be conceived precisely and executed decisively,” and that success depended on officers at all levels willingly assuming responsibility. “Everyone must be convinced,” Verdy wrote, “that it is better to take initiative on one’s own responsibility than to do nothing while awaiting orders.” This led to the conclusion that “military quality is rooted in character, not knowledge”—a perfectly Clausewitzian sentiment that would be echoed by professional soldiers for generations.

Beyond Germany, Clausewitz’s influence spread more slowly but no less profoundly. French military circles, initially loyal to Jomini and stung by defeat in 1870, gradually came to appreciate their enemy’s intellectual mentor. By 1900, a wave of Clausewitz admiration swept through the French army. Some officers argued that Clausewitz had merely expressed, in characteristically Germanic obscurity, what Napoleon had stated with greater clarity and force. Yet his emphasis on moral forces resonated with France’s own pre-Revolutionary military traditions, reinvigorated by colonial campaigns in Africa and Asia. Similarly, in Britain and the United States, Clausewitz began to supplant Jomini as the preferred theorist for officers seeking to understand the complexities of modern industrial warfare.

Legacy and Modern Relevance: Why Clausewitz Endures

Clausewitz’s enduring relevance lies in his rejection of dogma and his embrace of war’s inherent complexity. Unlike Jomini, who sought to reduce warfare to a set of rules, Clausewitz acknowledged its political nature, its psychological dimensions, and its unpredictability. This made his work uniquely adaptable to the technological and geopolitical upheavals of the 20th and 21st centuries. During World War I, commanders on all sides grappled with the “friction” and “fog of war” that Clausewitz had described. In World War II, his concepts of “center of gravity” and “culminating point” informed operational planning from Normandy to the Pacific. Cold War strategists, nuclear theorists, and counterinsurgency experts all turned to “On War” for insights into the relationship between force and policy.

Today, Clausewitz remains a staple at military academies worldwide, but his influence extends far beyond the barracks. Political scientists, historians, and business leaders study his work for lessons on strategy, leadership, and decision-making under uncertainty. His ideas have been applied to cybersecurity, corporate competition, and even sports—any domain where conflict, psychology, and unpredictable outcomes intersect. Clausewitz’s greatest achievement may be that he wrote not for his own time, but for all time. His “little wish” has been fulfilled many times over: nearly two centuries after his death, his work is not only remembered but continues to shape how we think about one of humanity’s most enduring and tragic endeavors.