The "War Studies" Problem
The Challenges of a Disciplinary Approach to a Multidisciplinary Problem
How to study war is a question that has long vexed historians, analysts, policymakers, politicians, and amateurs alike. Despite its central role in shaping human history, war resists easy classification. Is it a political act, a social phenomenon, a technological contest, or a moral tragedy? The answer is all of the above, which makes the study of war both essential and incredibly difficult. War cannot be understood through a single lens; it is inherently multidisciplinary, straddling history, political science, international relations, sociology, engineering, economics, and philosophy. However, attempts to study war often fall into the trap of compartmentalization, either in history, security studies, international relations, or war studies.1 Each attempt to isolate one element of war often overlooks another, thereby missing the integrated nature of war itself. That is merely one aspect of the problem. Another issue is the near-disappearance of military history within higher education. As Edward M. Coffman, professor emeritus at the University of Wisconsin, found, only about 5 percent of the approximately 14,000 history professors in the United States identify military history as one of their areas of interest.2 Furthermore, the study of war in international relations and political science is even more siloed, often confined to abstract theories of conflict or narrow models of deterrence, with little attention paid to the actual conduct of warfare, the structure of military institutions, or the complex relationship between force and political purpose.
There have been many attempts to subjectivize the study of war: military history, strategic studies, security studies, military science, grand strategy, etc. One can even look to the writings of Sun Tzu and Thucydides for original inspiration, but the actual emergence of the study of war within political science and international relations in academia occurred during the Great Depression in the United States.3 In the decades since, the study of war inside and outside academia has evolved far beyond that to encompass many other “security” issues, but its origins focused on state-on-state violence. War Studies, on the other hand, came about in Britain. At its core, War Studies is the multidisciplinary academic study of war in all its dimensions.4 The field first emerged at King’s College London under the banner of Military Science, but the department was discontinued in 1948. It was not until 1962 that King’s College formally revived the discipline with the establishment of the Department of War Studies, an institution that remains a leading center for the field to this day.5
What spurred my interest in writing this article was a recent announcement, a few months ago, by the United States Military Academy that it would be launching a new academic major and reorganizing its Department of History into the Department of History and War Studies. Beyond West Point and a few other universities, War Studies as an academic subject in the United States is relatively limited. Most universities house the study of military issues under history, and a few courses focus on war in international security and security studies.6
The accompanying institutional write-up to the West Point announcement was notably vague, and the implications remain unclear. According to the article, pairing War Studies and History will be “multidomain” and “interdisciplinary,” phrases that sound ambitious but are difficult to pin down in practical terms.7 The Dean of the Academic Board at West Point, Brigadier General Shane Reeves added, “Military readiness has a critical intellectual dimension: officers must be experts in the art of warfare.”8 Most of this probably amounts to boilerplate, but it’s an interesting change, especially when the department claims the War Studies major will use a “Clausewitzian methodology,” which again, can mean any number of things given the way Clausewitz is wielded in the United States Military (poorly in most cases).9 Whether this signals a genuine revival of strategic thinking grounded in political context or merely repackages technical expertise in the language of the art of the war, the ambiguity itself reflects the deeper uncertainty about how, and why, we study war in the first place.
My first real encounter with the study of war was at the Hertog War Studies Program, a two-week seminar hosted by the Institute for the Study of War in Washington.10 Designed for undergraduate students, the program explores the theory, practice, organization, and oversight of war and military forces. This was a beneficial seminar because, up to that point, most of my encounters with military history had been through what I would call “popular military history,” rather than actual military history, military science, or theory.11
The seminar began with a dive into abstract military theory and terms, including order of battle, organization, and military maps, before quickly turning to a close reading of the battles of Austerlitz and Gettysburg. We analyzed Napoleon’s use of central position, Lee’s misjudgment at Pickett’s Charge, and the interplay of cavalry, terrain, miscommunication, and their interaction with the operational level of war.12 Then we pivoted to Carl von Clausewitz’s Magnum opus, On War. This was my first true foray into the writings of the Prussian philosopher of war. My previous experiences had been limited to “Clausewitz” and his simple notion that “war is politics by other means.”13 But as I started to read, the very first passage stood out,
We propose to consider first the single elements of our subject, then each branch or part, and last of all, the whole, in all its relations- therefore to advance from the simple to the complex. But it is necessary for us to commence with a glance at the nature of the whole, because it is particularly necessary that in the consideration of any of the parts their relation to the whole should be kept constantly in view.14
As I read further into On War, the undergraduate in me was left confused. To the extent that I understood an English translation of a Prussian musing in early 19th-century German, Clausewitz appeared to be stating that you cannot examine the components of war: strategy, tactics, logistics, and so on, in isolation; they derive meaning only within the broader context, that context being the “political object.”15 Furthermore, he stated that the “political object” was the “essential factor” and “original motive” for war.16 Finally, he stated that, “war cannot be divorced from political life.”17 So, to do one without the other would be fundamentally flawed, and he wrote and emphasized all this before he had even begun to discuss tactics, operations, or logistics.18
Yet we had spent the first three sessions of the seminar doing what felt like the exact opposite of what Clausewitz insisted upon: beginning with the mechanics of military organization and terminology, then pivoting directly to the battles of Austerlitz and Gettysburg. While we did briefly touch on the political conditions that led to these engagements, the emphasis was unmistakably on the conduct of war rather than its purpose. It felt as though we were moving backward, starting from the clash of arms and working in reverse, rather than beginning with the political objectives that gave rise to the war in the first place. Clausewitz warned against precisely this temptation: fixating on the “grammar” of war, its tactics and operations, while brushing past the “logic” of war, its political rationale and strategic coherence.19
That said, this is not to diminish the value of the experience; it absolutely was a worthwhile endeavor.20 For any undergraduate even remotely interested in military theory, the operational art, or institutional questions of civil-military relations, I would wholeheartedly recommend applying to the Hertog War Studies Program. The curriculum, while occasionally imbalanced, is intellectually serious and rigorous in a way few undergraduate opportunities are. Beyond the academic content, the program also provides a rare platform to connect with like-minded peers from across the country; students who are genuinely interested in the political and strategic dimensions of armed conflict, rather than just reciting talking points or abstract IR theory.21 Just as importantly, it offers access to a professional network deeply embedded in Washington’s national security ecosystem, comprising former policymakers, defense analysts, and military officers. For students interested in careers in government, policy, or the military, those connections can be invaluable. In short, even if the seminar occasionally inverted Clausewitz’s priorities, it still offered something far too rare in higher education today: a serious attempt to grapple with war as both a political problem and a field of professional expertise.
One of the original and persistent criticisms of security studies and international relations at large is that it actually focuses far too much on war (state-on-state violence) and thus overlooks other security problems such as human security, environmental security, climate change, global health, terrorism, etc.22 This isn’t to say the integration of development, gender studies, sociology, environmental science, and public health doesn’t matter or is not essential.23 In many ways, this was a necessary and welcome evolution.24 It acknowledged that security is not solely defined by tanks and treaties but also by access to food, water, healthcare, and freedom from structural violence.
However, this corrective move has, in my opinion, overcorrected. In an effort to distance themselves from the perceived narrowness of traditional war-centric security studies, many undergraduate and graduate programs have largely abandoned serious engagement with the study of war itself.25 Military power, strategic thought, and armed conflict, once central to the field, are now often treated as niche subfields or historical curiosities in favor of a broad multidisciplinary approach.26 Even though the author studied International Security at a top 15 graduate program in the United States, there was not a single course that meaningfully engaged with the tactical, institutional, and political dimensions of armed conflict in a sustained or rigorous manner.
It was quite troubling as I was left wondering if most of my cohort were missing one of the basic subjects of security. As Peter Berkowitz put it, “If a liberal education is to acquaint students with the variety and complexity of human affairs, and prepare them for the responsibilities of citizenship, the study of military affairs is essential. War is coeval with human civilization and pervasive in human history.”27 It’s even more paramount to those wanting to pursue a career in foreign policy and national security, so they can understand why and what militaries do, because as the French statesman Georges Clemenceau famously quipped, “War is too important to be left to the generals.” Furthermore, the return of “great power competition,” the persistence of intrastate violence, and the growing integration of cyber and kinetic warfare all underscore the need for rigorous, politically grounded scholarship on armed conflict. Ignoring war in the name of being multidisciplined does not overcome the field’s earlier blind spots; it simply creates new ones.
All of this circles back to the original question: how can we teach military theory, operational art, and their intersection with politics in a way that avoids repeating the core criticisms that have long plagued the field, specifically, the reduction of war to a technical exercise detached from political meaning, and the overextension of war’s study to the point of saturation? How can a curriculum be designed that balances Clausewitzian strategic logic with an understanding of tactical and institutional realities? Can students be trained to think simultaneously about doctrine and political intent, logistics and legitimacy, battlefield decisions and long-term outcomes? Is it possible to cultivate both professional literacy and critical distance, to teach war as a subject of serious inquiry without either glorifying violence or sanitizing its consequences? These questions do not have easy answers, but they must be asked if War Studies is to become something more than a rebranded disciplinary patchwork.28
Instead of supplanting a multidisciplinary approach as some scholars have argued, it can serve as a vital supplement that helps students understand the intersection between military power and political purpose. By introducing just one to three thoughtfully designed courses, depending on student interest, such a program could fill an intellectual gap that is too often left unaddressed in conventional academic settings. These courses would not require the creation of an entirely new department or a wholesale transformation of existing curricula. Instead, they would offer students a structured opportunity to engage with the practical and theoretical dimensions of armed conflict—something most history or political science or IR majors rarely encounter in any depth. War is often studied either as a series of historical events, typically organized around battles or leaders, or as a highly abstract concept in security studies or international relations theory. What is missing in both approaches is the connective tissue that links how wars are fought (through tactics, doctrine, command structures, and logistics) with why they are fought (the political objectives and strategic calculations that shape their purpose and trajectory).
A War Studies offering would bridge that divide by encouraging students to explore both the internal dynamics of military organizations and their external political functions. For example, an enterprising reader pointed to a class they took at Penn called, “Strategy, Policy, and War” that focused on this very intersection of politics and war at both a theoretical and fundamental level.29 Further topics might include the role of military doctrine in shaping battlefield behavior, the interaction between political leadership and military command, the organizational cultures of different armed forces, and the way war affects, and is affected by, society, ideology, and institutions. These subjects rarely receive sustained attention outside of professional military education, yet they are crucial to understanding war as a political phenomenon.
Moreover, a War Studies curriculum could serve as an intellectual corrective to the compartmentalization that dominates much of higher education. It would train students to think synthetically across time periods, disciplines, and modes of analysis. It would allow them to explore the writings of strategic thinkers like Clausewitz, Jomini, or Mao, not just as historical curiosities but as living frameworks through which modern conflicts can still be interpreted. It would prompt them to examine case studies not only for operational outcomes, but also for their deeper political significance. And it would offer space to reflect on war not merely as an event or a policy tool, but as a form of human activity with ethical, institutional, and existential consequences.
This kind of education is not only academically enriching; it is also socially and politically necessary. In an era where military power remains a central factor in international affairs and where democratic societies frequently delegate decisions about war to a select group of professionals, it is crucial that more citizens, particularly future leaders, comprehend war in its full complexity. A carefully designed War Studies program would not glorify violence or reduce war to a set of technical problems. It would instead cultivate critical thinking, strategic awareness, and political literacy. It would ask students not just to learn how wars are fought, but to wrestle with the far more difficult question of whether they should be fought, and to what end.
One might reasonably argue that this proposal simply repackages existing fields such as grand strategy or security studies under a new label. However, War Studies, when properly conceived, could occupy a “new,” distinct, and necessary space within the broader landscape of International Relations and Studies. While grand strategy focuses primarily on the alignment of a state’s political aims with its available means across all instruments of national power: diplomatic, informational, military, and economic, it often remains at a high level of abstraction, rarely descending into the practical mechanics of how wars are actually fought, sustained, or experienced on the ground.30 Similarly, security studies have expanded so widely in recent decades, encompassing everything from environmental threats to human security and cyber governance, that it often sidelines the serious study of organized violence and military institutions in favor of broader, often postmodern, conceptions of insecurity.
War Studies, by contrast, has the potential to fill a critical intellectual gap. It offers a focused yet multidisciplinary approach to understanding armed conflict as a political, strategic, organizational, and cultural phenomenon. It encourages students not only to examine why wars begin or what consequences they produce, but also to think critically about how wars are conducted, how military institutions function, and how battlefield choices connect, or fail to connect, with political objectives. In doing so, War Studies can help bridge the persistent divide between the tactical and the strategic, the operational and the political, the theoretical and the empirical. Far from being a redundant exercise, it represents an opportunity to restore clarity and coherence to the study of war, which is too often scattered across disciplines that either ignore it or abstract it beyond recognition.
Despite the centrality of war in shaping the human experience, redrawing borders, toppling regimes, and transforming societies, it was often treated as peripheral in disciplines such as political science, international relations, and even in the field of history itself at universities. War would appear episodically, usually in the form of significant battles or as background context for state formation, but rarely was it examined in its own right as a phenomenon deserving sustained theoretical and analytical attention. Courses on diplomacy and foreign policy might nod to Clausewitz in passing, but there was no meaningful engagement with the intellectual traditions of military thought or the operational realities of how wars are conceived, conducted, and concluded. In many departments, any interest in war beyond its social or cultural effects was subtly dismissed as regressive or outdated, as though studying military power seriously was incompatible with critical academic inquiry.
Ironically, then, while the institutionalization of War Studies deserves critique, particularly for its tendency to depoliticize and compartmentalize war, the real crisis lies in its marginalization. Too few students are ever exposed to serious strategic thinking, civil-military relations, or the enduring relevance of force in global politics. The problem is not that we study war too much, but that we often fail to study it with the depth, seriousness, and political awareness it demands.
Joshua Rovner, “Warring Tribes Studying War and Peace,” War on the Rocks, April 12, 2016.
Peter Berkowitz, “Our Elite Schools Have Abandoned Military History,” Hoover Institution, April 30, 2011.
David Ekbladh, “Present at the Creation: Edward Mead Earle and the Depression-Era Origins of Security Studies.” International Security 2012; 36 (3): 107–141.
See Tarak Barkawi, “From War to Security: Security Studies, the Wider Agenda and the Fate of the Study of War. Millennium, 39(3), (2011): 701-716, Stephen Walt, ‘The Renaissance of Security Studies’, International Studies Quarterly 35, no. 2 (1991): 211-239.
See the Department of War Studies at King’s College in London.
For example, UNC Chapel Hill offers “Peace, War, and Defense” as a B.A.
Major Renee Sanjuan, “West Point Expands Academic Modernization with Development of Department of History and War Studies,” Army West Point, July 14, 2025.
Ibid,.
Nikolas Gardner, “Resurrecting the ‘Icon’: The Enduring Relevance of Clausewitz’s On War,” Strategic Studies Quarterly (Spring 2009): 119–133.
I would define “popular military history” as a genre of historical writing that presents military events, figures, and campaigns in a narrative-driven, accessible, and often dramatized style intended for a general audience rather than academic specialists.
Carl von Clausewitz, On War, trans. Michael Howard and Peter Paret (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984), 87.
Ibid., 75.
Ibid., 80.
Ibid., 80-81.
Ibid., 605.
Clausewitz, 605.
See Van Jackson, “What To Do About Clausewitz: Saving Strategic Studies From Itself,” The Duck of Minerva, August 19, 2024, Adam Elkus, “Professor, Tear Down This Wall: Is the Divide Between Security Studies and Strategic Studies Permanent?” War on the Rocks, April 18, 2016, and Richard K. Betts, “Should Strategic Studies Survive?” World Politics 50, no. 1 (October 1997): 7–33,
For some readings on those respective fields in IR, see Roland Paris, “Human Security: Paradigm Shift or Hot Air?” International Security 26, no. 2 (Fall 2001): 87–102, Anthony Burke, “Security Cosmopolitanism,” Critical Studies on Security 1, no. 1 (2013): 13–28, Amartya Sen, “Violence, Identity and Poverty.” Journal of Peace Research 45, no. 1 (2008): 5–15, Valerie M. Hudson, Mary Caprioli, Bonnie Ballif-Spanvill, Rose McDermott, and Chad F. Emmett, “The Heart of the Matter: The Security of Women and the Security of States,” International Security 33, no. 3 (Winter 2008/09): 7–45, and Jacqueline L. Hazelton, “The ‘Hearts and Minds’ Fallacy: Violence, Coercion, and Success in Counterinsurgency Warfare,” International Security 42, no. 1 (Summer 2017): 80–113.
Steve Smith, “The Increasing Insecurity of Security Studies: Conceptualizing Security in the Last Twenty Years,” Contemporary Security Policy 20, no. 3 (1999): 72–101.
Berkowitz.
Keith Krause and Michael Williams, “Security and ‘Security Studies’: Conceptual Evolution and Historical Transformation,” in The Oxford Handbook of International Security, ed. Alexandra Gheciu and William C. Wohlforth (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018),
Berkowitz.
For scholarship on Grand Strategy, see, Tami Davis Biddle. “STRATEGY AND GRAND STRATEGY: WHAT STUDENTS AND PRACTITIONERS NEED TO KNOW.” Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, 2015, Lukas Milevski. “GRAND STRATEGY IS ATTRITION: THE LOGIC OF INTEGRATING VARIOUS FORMS OF POWER IN CONFLICT.” Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, 2019, John Lewis Gaddis, On Grand Strategy (New York: Penguin Press, 2018), and Paul Kennedy, The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers: Economic Change and Military Conflict from 1500 to 2000 (New York: Random House, 1987).
100%. I work in defense pretty close to the coal seam face in Ukraine. But I am trained as an economist. Here are some things that are lacking in War Studies: an appreciation for cost-per-effect in assessing weaponry. How attention to economics in a war ("the allocation of scarce resources") can lead to capability asymmetry, a better understanding of what "strategic" bombing really is.
I was strongly discouraged from perusing a PhD in history as “there was no future” and current professors said the idea of getting a position as a military historian in a university was vanishingly small. The most positive thing I can say about War Studies or the like is that at least they are trying to maintain some form of education on the subject.