Apparently this is an article an E-buddy scanned from Frieze magazine (
http://www.frieze.com/ ). I wondered if the IDF officer who was
interviewed was just bullshitting the interviewer. Still interesting (and
bizarre).

The Art of War
by Eyal Weizman

The Israeli Defence Forces have been heavily influenced by contemporary
philosophy, highlighting the fact that there is considerable overlap among
theoretical texts deemed essential by military academies and architectural
schools.

The attack conducted by units of the Israeli Defence Forces (IDF) on the
city of Nablus in April 2002 was described by its commander,
Brigadier-General Aviv Kokhavi, as ‘inverse geometry’, which he explained
as ‘the reorganization of the urban syntax by means of a series of
micro-tactical actions’.1 During the battle soldiers moved within the city
across hundreds of metres of ‘overground tunnels’ carved out through a
dense and contiguous urban structure. Although several thousand soldiers
and Palestinian guerrillas were manoeuvring simultaneously in the city,
they were so ‘saturated’ into the urban fabric that very few would have
been visible from the air. Furthermore, they used none of the city’s
streets, roads, alleys or courtyards, or any of the external doors,
internal stairwells and windows, but moved horizontally through walls and
vertically through holes blasted in ceilings and floors. This form of
movement, described by the military as ‘infestation’, seeks to redefine
inside as outside, and domestic interiors as thoroughfares. The IDF’s
strategy of ‘walking through walls’ involves a conception of the city as
not just the site but also the very medium of warfare – a flexible, almost
liquid medium that is forever contingent and in flux.

Contemporary military theorists are now busy re-conceptualizing the urban
domain. At stake are the underlying concepts, assumptions and principles
that determine military strategies and tactics. The vast intellectual
field that geographer Stephen Graham has called an international ‘shadow
world’ of military urban research institutes and training centres that
have been established to rethink military operations in cities could be
understood as somewhat similar to the international matrix of élite
architectural academies. However, according to urban theorist Simon
Marvin, the military-architectural ‘shadow world’ is currently generating
more intense and well-funded urban research programmes than all these
university programmes put together, and is certainly aware of the
avant-garde urban research conducted in architectural institutions,
especially as regards Third World and African cities. There is a
considerable overlap among the theoretical texts considered essential by
military academies and architectural schools. Indeed, the reading lists of
contemporary military institutions include works from around 1968 (with a
special emphasis on the writings of Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari and Guy
Debord), as well as more contemporary writings on urbanism, psychology,
cybernetics, post-colonial and post-Structuralist theory. If, as some
writers claim, the space for criticality has withered away in late
20th-century capitalist culture, it seems now to have found a place to
flourish in the military.

I conducted an interview with Kokhavi, commander of the Paratrooper
Brigade, who at 42 is considered one of the most promising young officers
of the IDF (and was the commander of the operation for the evacuation of
settlements in the Gaza Strip).2 Like many career officers, he had taken
time out from the military to earn a university degree; although he
originally intended to study architecture, he ended up with a degree in
philosophy from the Hebrew University. When he explained to me the
principle that guided the battle in Nablus, what was interesting for me
was not so much the description of the action itself as the way he
conceived its articulation. He said: ‘this space that you look at, this
room that you look at, is nothing but your interpretation of it. […] The
question is how do you interpret the alley? […] We interpreted the alley
as a place forbidden to walk through and the door as a place forbidden to
pass through, and the window as a place forbidden to look through, because
a weapon awaits us in the alley, and a booby trap awaits us behind the
doors. This is because the enemy interprets space in a traditional,
classical manner, and I do not want to obey this interpretation and fall
into his traps. […] I want to surprise him! This is the essence of war. I
need to win […] This is why that we opted for the methodology of moving
through walls. . . . Like a worm that eats its way forward, emerging at
points and then disappearing. […] I said to my troops, "Friends! […] If
until now you were used to move along roads and sidewalks, forget it! From
now on we all walk through walls!”'2 Kokhavi’s intention in the battle was
to enter the city in order to kill members of the Palestinian resistance
and then get out. The horrific frankness of these objectives, as recounted
to me by Shimon Naveh, Kokhavi’s instructor, is part of a general Israeli
policy that seeks to disrupt Palestinian resistance on political as well
as military levels through targeted assassinations from both air and
ground.

If you still believe, as the IDF would like you to, that moving through
walls is a relatively gentle form of warfare, the following description of
the sequence of events might change your mind. To begin with, soldiers
assemble behind the wall and then, using explosives, drills or hammers,
they break a hole large enough to pass through. Stun grenades are then
sometimes thrown, or a few random shots fired into what is usually a
private living-room occupied by unsuspecting civilians. When the soldiers
have passed through the wall, the occupants are locked inside one of the
rooms, where they are made to remain – sometimes for several days – until
the operation is concluded, often without water, toilet, food or medicine.
Civilians in Palestine, as in Iraq, have experienced the unexpected
penetration of war into the private domain of the home as the most
profound form of trauma and humiliation. A Palestinian woman identified
only as Aisha, interviewed by a journalist for the Palestine Monitor,
described the experience: ‘Imagine it – you’re sitting in your
living-room, which you know so well; this is the room where the family
watches television together after the evening meal, and suddenly that wall
disappears with a deafening roar, the room fills with dust and debris, and
through the wall pours one soldier after the other, screaming orders. You
have no idea if they’re after you, if they’ve come to take over your home,
or if your house just lies on their route to somewhere else. The children
are screaming, panicking. Is it possible to even begin to imagine the
horror experienced by a five-year-old child as four, six, eight, 12
soldiers, their faces painted black, sub-machine-guns pointed everywhere,
antennas protruding from their backpacks, making them look like giant
alien bugs, blast their way through that wall?’3

Naveh, a retired Brigadier-General, directs the Operational Theory
Research Institute, which trains staff officers from the IDF and other
militaries in ‘operational theory’ – defined in military jargon as
somewhere between strategy and tactics. He summed up the mission of his
institute, which was founded in 1996: ‘We are like the Jesuit Order. We
attempt to teach and train soldiers to think. […] We read Christopher
Alexander, can you imagine?; we read John Forester, and other architects.
We are reading Gregory Bateson; we are reading Clifford Geertz. Not
myself, but our soldiers, our generals are reflecting on these kinds of
materials. We have established a school and developed a curriculum that
trains “operational architects”.’4 In a lecture Naveh showed a diagram
resembling a ‘square of opposition’ that plots a set of logical
relationships between certain propositions referring to military and
guerrilla operations. Labelled with phrases such as ‘Difference and
Repetition – The Dialectics of Structuring and Structure’, ‘Formless Rival
Entities’, ‘Fractal Manoeuvre’, ‘Velocity vs. Rhythms’, ‘The Wahabi War
Machine’, ‘Postmodern Anarchists’ and ‘Nomadic Terrorists’, they often
reference the work of Deleuze and Guattari. War machines, according to the
philosophers, are polymorphous; diffuse organizations characterized by
their capacity for metamorphosis, made up of small groups that split up or
merge with one another, depending on contingency and circumstances.
(Deleuze and Guattari were aware that the state can willingly transform
itself into a war machine. Similarly, in their discussion of ‘smooth
space’ it is implied that this conception may lead to domination.)

I asked Naveh why Deleuze and Guattari were so popular with the Israeli
military. He replied that ‘several of the concepts in A Thousand Plateaux
became instrumental for us […] allowing us to explain contemporary
situations in a way that we could not have otherwise. It problematized our
own paradigms. Most important was the distinction they have pointed out
between the concepts of “smooth” and “striated” space [which accordingly
reflect] the organizational concepts of the “war machine” and the “state
apparatus”. In the IDF we now often use the term “to smooth out space”
when we want to refer to operation in a space as if it had no borders. […]
Palestinian areas could indeed be thought of as “striated” in the sense
that they are enclosed by fences, walls, ditches, roads blocks and so
on.’5 When I asked him if moving through walls was part of it, he
explained that, ‘In Nablus the IDF understood urban fighting as a spatial
problem. […] Travelling through walls is a simple mechanical solution that
connects theory and practice.’6

To understand the IDF’s tactics for moving through Palestinian urban
spaces, it is necessary to understand how they interpret the by now
familiar principle of ‘swarming’ – a term that has been a buzzword in
military theory since the start of the US post cold War doctrine known as
the Revolution in Military Affairs. The swarm manoeuvre was in fact
adapted, from the Artificial Intelligence principle of swarm intelligence,
which assumes that problem-solving capacities are found in the interaction
and communication of relatively unsophisticated agents (ants, birds, bees,
soldiers) with little or no centralized control. The swarm exemplifies the
principle of non-linearity apparent in spatial, organizational and
temporal terms. The traditional manoeuvre paradigm, characterized by the
simplified geometry of Euclidean order, is transformed, according to the
military, into a complex fractal-like geometry. The narrative of the
battle plan is replaced by what the military, using a Foucaultian term,
calls the ‘toolbox approach’, according to which units receive the tools
they need to deal with several given situations and scenarios but cannot
predict the order in which these events would actually occur.7 Naveh:
‘Operative and tactical commanders depend on one another and learn the
problems through constructing the battle narrative; […] action becomes
knowledge, and knowledge becomes action. […] Without a decisive result
possible, the main benefit of operation is the very improvement of the
system as a system.’8

This may explain the fascination of the military with the spatial and
organizational models and modes of operation advanced by theorists such as
Deleuze and Guattari. Indeed, as far as the military is concerned, urban
warfare is the ultimate Postmodern form of conflict. Belief in a logically
structured and single-track battle-plan is lost in the face of the
complexity and ambiguity of the urban reality. Civilians become
combatants, and combatants become civilians. Identity can be changed as
quickly as gender can be feigned: the transformation of women into
fighting men can occur at the speed that it takes an undercover ‘Arabized’
Israeli soldier or a camouflaged Palestinian fighter to pull a machine-gun
out from under a dress. For a Palestinian fighter caught up in this
battle, Israelis seem ‘to be everywhere: behind, on the sides, on the
right and on the left. How can you fight that way?’9

Critical theory has become crucial for Nave’s teaching and training. He
explained: ‘we employ critical theory primarily in order to critique the
military institution itself – its fixed and heavy conceptual foundations.
Theory is important for us in order to articulate the gap between the
existing paradigm and where we want to go. Without theory we could not
make sense of the different events that happen around us and that would
otherwise seem disconnected. […] At present the Institute has a tremendous
impact on the military; [it has] become a subversive node within it. By
training several high-ranking officers we filled the system [IDF] with
subversive agents […] who ask questions; […] some of the top brass are not
embarrassed to talk about Deleuze or [Bernard] Tschumi.’10 I asked him,
‘Why Tschumi?’ He replied: ‘The idea of disjunction embodied in Tschumi’s
book Architecture and Disjunction (1994) became relevant for us […]
Tschumi had another approach to epistemology; he wanted to break with
single-perspective knowledge and centralized thinking. He saw the world
through a variety of different social practices, from a constantly
shifting point of view. [Tschumi] created a new grammar; he formed the
ideas that compose our thinking.11 I then asked him, why not Derrida and
Deconstruction? He answered, ‘Derrida may be a little too opaque for our
crowd. We share more with architects; we combine theory and practice. We
can read, but we know as well how to build and destroy, and sometimes
kill.’12

In addition to these theoretical positions, Naveh references such
canonical elements of urban theory as the Situationist practices of dérive
(a method of drifting through a city based on what the Situationists
referred to as ‘psycho-geography’) and détournement (the adaptation of
abandoned buildings for purposes other than those they were designed to
perform). These ideas were, of course, conceived by Guy Debord and other
members of the Situationist International to challenge the built hierarchy
of the capitalist city and break down distinctions between private and
public, inside and outside, use and function, replacing private space with
a ‘borderless’ public surface. References to the work of Georges Bataille,
either directly or as cited in the writings of Tschumi, also speak of a
desire to attack architecture and to dismantle the rigid rationalism of a
postwar order, to escape ‘the architectural strait-jacket’ and to liberate
repressed human desires.

In no uncertain terms, education in the humanities – often believed to be
the most powerful weapon against imperialism – is being appropriated as a
powerful vehicle for imperialism. The military’s use of theory is, of
course, nothing new – a long line extends all the way from Marcus Aurelius
to General Patton.

Future military attacks on urban terrain will increasingly be dedicated to
the use of technologies developed for the purpose of ‘un-walling the
wall’, to borrow a term from Gordon Matta-Clark. This is the new
soldier/architect’s response to the logic of ‘smart bombs’. The latter
have paradoxically resulted in higher numbers of civilian casualties
simply because the illusion of precision gives the military-political
complex the necessary justification to use explosives in civilian
environments.

Here another use of theory as the ultimate ‘smart weapon’ becomes
apparent. The military’s seductive use of theoretical and technological
discourse seeks to portray war as remote, quick and intellectual, exciting
– and even economically viable. Violence can thus be projected as
tolerable and the public encouraged to support it. As such, the
development and dissemination of new military technologies promote the
fiction being projected into the public domain that a military solution is
possible – in situations where it is at best very doubtful.

Although you do not need Deleuze to attack Nablus, theory helped the
military reorganize by providing a new language in which to speak to
itself and others. A ‘smart weapon’ theory has both a practical and a
discursive function in redefining urban warfare. The practical or tactical
function, the extent to which Deleuzian theory influences military tactics
and manoeuvres, raises questions about the relation between theory and
practice. Theory obviously has the power to stimulate new sensibilities,
but it may also help to explain, develop or even justify ideas that
emerged independently within disparate fields of knowledge and with quite
different ethical bases. In discursive terms, war – if it is not a total
war of annihilation – constitutes a form of discourse between enemies.
Every military action is meant to communicate something to the enemy. Talk
of ‘swarming’, ‘targeted killings’ and ‘smart destruction’ help the
military communicate to its enemies that it has the capacity to effect far
greater destruction. Raids can thus be projected as the more moderate
alternative to the devastating capacity that the military actually
possesses and will unleash if the enemy exceeds the ‘acceptable’ level of
violence or breaches some unspoken agreement. In terms of military
operational theory it is essential never to use one’s full destructive
capacity but rather to maintain the potential to escalate the level of
atrocity. Otherwise threats become meaningless.

When the military talks theory to itself, it seems to be about changing
its organizational structure and hierarchies. When it invokes theory in
communications with the public – in lectures, broadcasts and publications
– it seems to be about projecting an image of a civilized and
sophisticated military. And when the military ‘talks’ (as every military
does) to the enemy, theory could be understood as a particularly
intimidating weapon of ‘shock and awe’, the message being: ‘You will never
even understand that which kills you.’

Eyal Weizman is an architect, writer and Director of Goldsmith’s College
Centre for Research Architecture. His work deals with issues of conflict
territories and human rights.

A full version of this article was recently delivered at the conference
‘Beyond Bio-politics’ at City University, New York, and in the
architecture program of the Sao Paulo Biennial. A transcript can be read
in the March/April, 2006 issue of Radical Philosophy.

1 Quoted in Hannan Greenberg, ‘The Limited Conflict: This Is How You Trick
Terrorists’, in Yediot Aharonot; www.ynet.co.il (23 March 2004)
2 Eyal Weizman interviewed Aviv Kokhavi on 24 September at an Israeli
military base near Tel Aviv. Translation from Hebrew by the author; video
documentation by Nadav Harel and Zohar Kaniel
3 Sune Segal, ‘What Lies Beneath: Excerpts from an Invasion’, Palestine
Monitor, November, 2002;
www.palestinemonitor.org/eyewitness...sune_segal.html 9 June, 2005
4 Shimon Naveh, discussion following the talk ‘Dicta Clausewitz: Fractal
Manoeuvre: A Brief History of Future Warfare in Urban Environments’,
delivered in conjunction with ‘States of Emergency: The Geography of Human
Rights’, a debate organized by Eyal Weizman and Anselm Franke as part of
‘Territories Live’, B’tzalel Gallery, Tel Aviv,
5 November 2004
5 Eyal Weizman, telephone interview with Shimon Naveh, 14 October 2005
6 Ibid.
7 Michel Foucault’s description of theory as a ‘toolbox’ was originally
developed in conjunction with Deleuze in a 1972 discussion; see Gilles
Deleuze and Michel Foucault, ‘Intellectuals and Power’, in Michel
Foucault, Language, Counter-Memory, Practice: Selected Essays and
Interviews, ed. and intro. Donald F. Bouchard, Cornell University Press,
Ithaca, 1980, p. 206
8 Weizman, interview with Naveh
9 Quoted in Yagil Henkin, ‘The Best Way into Baghdad’, The New York Times,
3 April 2003
10 Weizman, interview with Naveh
11 Naveh is currently working on a Hebrew translation of Bernard Tschumi’s
Architecture and Disjunction, MIT Press, Cambridge, Mass., 1997.
12 Weizman, interview with Naveh

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