Michael Howard’s The Franco-Prussian War, first published in 1961, remains the standard of reference for an English single-volume work and, in many ways, such enduring distinction is merited.

Howard’s account is balanced, comprehensive, engagingly written, and largely sound. Within the scope of a relatively compact book, the author has woven a compelling, detailed narrative that strikes an effective balance between the military and political aspects. Howard correctly underlines the double importance of the Franco-Prussian War not only as the critical link in the causative chain that brought us the two global wars and thereby shaped our world, but in a more general sense, as an event that conditioned the nature of war itself.

Admittedly, it would certainly be a simple matter to find inconsistencies or oppositions in my own work, so in commenting on this book I wish to stress that the object is not to parse for the sake of pedantic egotism, but rather in the hope of illustrating larger considerations. And, finally, we should recognize that history itself, the stuff of our study, retains an intractable irrationality and heterogeneity—it is unsurprising therefore that historical works betray this same trait—indeed, one might maintain that this ‘fuzziness’ is among the first tokens of validity. Beware the tidy, homogeneous generalization; it may be more reflective of ideal chimera than real events.

My first misgiving about Howard’s Franco-Prussian War is its documentary basis. Howard relies almost completely on published works, a fact which, to his credit, he states quite early and openly. A priori, there is nothing wrong about this; but the problem arises, in my opinion, based on which published sources Howard relies on, and on how heavily. These sources which give me pause are the French and Prussian military staff histories of the Franco-Prussian War: La Guerre de 1870-71, publiée par la Revue d’Histoire, rédigée à la Section historique de l’État-Major de l’Armée (Paris 1901-1913), and Der deutsch-französische Krieg 1870-71, Redigirt von der kriegsgeschichtlichen Abteilung des Grosses Generalstabes (Berlin 1872-1881). Howard’s footnoting of his account of the critical battles of August 1870 rely to the extent of 80% or more on these official sources.

But I question the extent to which these sources may be relied upon; for we must remember that these are histories of war written by the armies themselves. How can subjective bias or external and internal political distortions not bleed into histories compiled by an agency which itself was directly concerned in the events it purports to describe? The intensely charged political (domestic and international) atmosphere of France and Germany from 1870 to 1914 must be kept in mind; such a climate—particularly within the armies themselves—was hardly propitious for balanced, searching analysis. Furthermore, we should not forget that many senior personages who had been major actors in the events of 1870 were still in power when these histories were written; this fact cannot have been without influence on the minds of their writers, particularly within the rigidly hierarchical military structures. Certainly, these staff histories are vitally important resources, but we must be extremely wary of their conclusions and, even more so, of their lacunae. It does appear to me that Howard may not have been sufficiently critical in his use of these sources. The military are not usually in the habit of washing their dirty laundry in public—especially not their superiors’, and they certainly are loath to reflect negatively on their service. I have read more than my share of official regimental histories and, if I were to believe them, no soldier ever ran, and no (superior) officer ever blundered.

Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t take the word of (high-ranking) soldiers, or of (high-ranking) policemen at face value.

“The completeness of the Prussian success in 1870 thus astounded the world. The incompetence of the French high command explained much: but the basic reasons for the catastrophe lay deeper, as the French themselves, in their humiliation, were to discern. The collapse at Sedan, like that of the Prussians at Jena sixty-four years earlier, was the result not simply of faulty command but of a faulty military system; and the military system of a nation is not an independent section of the social system but an aspect of it in its totality. The French had good reason to look on their disasters as a judgment. The social and economic developments of the past fifty years had brought about a military as well as an industrial revolution. The Prussians had kept abreast of it and France had not. Therein lay the basic cause of defeat.” (p. 1)

“Unlike the victories of Napoleon, Moltke’s successes were not due to any brilliant generalship on his own part or that of his commanders. There had been little in the way of maneuver; tactics, as often as not, were murderously clumsy; and strategic direction had been largely a matter of dour common sense. Nor had there been any significant technical superiority on the German side: the chassepot and Krupp’s steel breech-loaders might easily have cancelled one another out. The German victories, as was universally recognized, had been won by superior organization, superior manpower; and it was these qualities which would bring victory in any future wars.” (p. 455)