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The final paradox of peace: How automated warfare could forge European unity
In Brief
- The industrialization of conflict, starting prominently with WWI, established a dangerous trajectory towards impersonal, technologically amplified warfare.
- Traditional human conflicts, driven by economic causes and imperial ambition, resulted in fragile post-war settlements (like Versailles) that failed to prevent continued geopolitical strife.
- The concept of fully automated adversaries, or 'drones' as an existential threat, forces a philosophical shift, rendering all previous human enmities meaningless.
- Lasting European kinship may be an involuntary consequence of collective survival against a shared non-human, mechanical enemy, transcending national and ideological divides.
European history is punctuated by sudden and devastating conflicts, often erupting from seemingly stable conditions that masked deep, underlying hostilities [1]. The continent has been likened to a powder barrel, where immense and unseen forces of antagonism could be ignited by a single, seemingly inconsequential spark, plunging the world into unforeseen catastrophe [2, 3]. These wars, driven by human ambition and national interest, were characterized by a tragic but familiar logic of state-on-state violence.
The twentieth century, however, introduced a new variable into this equation: the industrialization of conflict. As the arts of destruction evolved at an unprecedented pace, the very nature of warfare was transformed [4]. The advent of novel war machines, such as armored motor cars and submarines, signaled a profound shift towards mechanization, creating a technological arms race where an early advantage could prove decisive [5, 6]. This escalating mechanization changed not only the scale of war but also its philosophical underpinnings, moving combat further away from human-to-human encounters.
This historical trajectory raises a critical question about the ultimate evolution of conflict. What happens when the enemy ceases to be another nation or people and becomes an automated, non-living force? The emergence of such a threat challenges the traditional definitions of combat, alliance, and enmity. It presents a scenario where previously antagonistic groups might be compelled to forge an unexpected unity, redefining kinship itself in the crucible of a shared existential struggle against a mechanical adversary [7].
The Crucible of Nations: Militarism and Inevitable War
For nearly half a century prior to the First World War, European geopolitics pivoted on the rise of Germany as a dominant military and commercial power [8]. Its prodigious growth in manufacturing and agriculture provided the economic foundation for its strength, turning the empire into the industrial heart of the continent [9]. This rapid ascent, combined with an assertive and often aggressive diplomacy, became a primary source of instability, compelling other nations to engage in a frantic cycle of military and naval expansion in response [10].
This era was defined by a pervasive militarism, particularly in the continental powers, where societal structures were organized to support massive standing armies [11]. For large segments of the male population, military service was not a choice but an obligation, creating a state of permanent readiness for war . This system stood in marked contrast to the policies of nations like Great Britain or the United States, which traditionally relied on smaller professional forces and volunteer militias [12, 13]. This societal mobilization was ultimately driven by intangible but powerful forces—pride, ambition, and the desire for imperial dominion—that made large-scale conflict seem almost inevitable [14].
The apparent peace that existed before the war was therefore a fragile illusion, masking potent hostilities that were poised to erupt at any moment . When the conflict did begin, it expanded with shocking speed, quickly engulfing the continent's major powers and exceeding all historical precedent in its scale and ferocity [15]. The war's repercussions were immediately global, drawing in colonial empires and distant nations from Africa, Asia, and the Americas, demonstrating how deeply interconnected the world had become in a shared vulnerability to catastrophe [16, 17, 18].
From Trench Lines to Automated Fronts
The industrial age fundamentally reshaped the battlefield. Combat was transformed from direct, hand-to-hand encounters into long-distance engagements, with soldiers fighting from hidden and protected positions [19]. This new form of warfare was impersonal and intensely destructive, characterized by a constant stream of technological innovations designed to increase lethality, driven by the grim theory that making war more terrible would hasten its end [20]. The deployment of early mechanized forces on land and the use of submarines to control the seas were critical steps in this evolution, turning warfare into a contest of industrial capacity and technological superiority [21].
This trajectory of mechanization finds its conceptual endpoint in a fully automated conflict, fought not by humans but by machines [22, 23]. In this imagined future, the battlefield is dominated by autonomous or remote-controlled "drones," and the human soldier becomes a peripheral figure, a pilot or a controller—a "ghost" within a mechanical shell [24]. Their physical vulnerability is subsumed by the technical reliability of their machine . Combat is no longer a clash of armies but a thunderous assault of metal hordes and flying craft, governed by systems of remote control and pre-programmed imperatives [25, 26].
The purpose driving these different forms of war is starkly divergent. Human conflicts have historically been fueled by comprehensible, if destructive, motivations. Wars often arise from economic causes, such as the desperation of impoverished postwar victors eyeing the wealth of their neighbors [27], or from intangible desires for power and imperial glory . The war against the drones, by contrast, is a primordial struggle devoid of such motivations. It is framed as a conflict of "life" against "no-life," a fight for sheer survival against an enemy that seeks not conquest but blind, automatic propagation that threatens to cleanse the world of all biological existence [28].
Forging Unity in the Face of an Alien Threat
The old order of European conflict was built upon a complex and often contradictory web of national and ethnic relationships. Deep-seated animosities could exist even within the formal structure of an empire, as seen in the tensions between Austria and Hungary [29]. Simultaneously, shared cultural bonds, such as a common Slavic heritage, could influence allegiances in broader geopolitical struggles [30]. In this environment, alliances were pragmatic and transactional instruments of survival. Treaties and blood-pacts compelled nations to enter devastating conflicts to defend an ally, and these same agreements often became intractable obstacles to achieving peace later on [31, 32, 33].
The emergence of a non-human, automated enemy completely disrupts this traditional logic of international relations. Faced with an existential threat like the drones, all prior "natural enmities" are rendered meaningless . The conflict is no longer between competing human factions but between the collective of life and a mindless mechanical force. This external pressure forces previously warring groups to fight alongside one another, their former disputes dwarfed by the scale of the new danger [34, 35]. This shared struggle forges an involuntary but profound kinship, uniting disparate peoples against a common, alien adversary .
This transformative effect highlights a key difference in the ultimate purpose of conflict. The war against the drones, paradoxically, serves a unifying function by reminding all peoples of their fundamental shared existence [37]. This outcome stands in sharp contrast to the aftermath of the First World War. The Treaty of Versailles was not seen by all as an end to hostilities but merely the start of a new phase of global conflict—a "world-revolution" in a different form [36]. The war’s conclusion did not bring unity but instead plunged much of Europe into a "witch's cauldron" of continued civil wars, revolutions, and score-settling, making a genuine and lasting peace an elusive goal [38].
The historical arc of European conflict reveals a clear and dangerous trajectory. Wars born from human ambitions, nationalistic pride, and systemic militarism became progressively more devastating as they were amplified by the ever-advancing technologies of destruction . The industrialized slaughter of the twentieth century was the direct consequence of this lethal fusion of political animosity and mechanical efficiency. This path logically extends toward a future where the human agent is further removed from the act of killing, culminating in the disquieting prospect of fully automated warfare.
The allegorical struggle against the drones offers a final, profound paradox. While humanity has long sought to achieve peace and unity through treaties and political will, the ultimate catalyst for global kinship might arrive in the form of a non-human enemy . Such a threat could compel a recognition of shared identity that transcends all national, ethnic, and ideological divides—a unity forged not by choice, but by the necessity of survival . The future of war, therefore, may not be a contest between nations, but a collective struggle of all life against the very systems of destruction it created, fundamentally redefining alliance and enmity for an uncertain new age.
