The Guarded Age - Fortification in the 21st Century

Wavell Room Audio Reads

In an era of drones, loitering munitions, precision strikes, and manoeuvre warfare; discussing fortification seems almost quaint. Surely the revolution in military affairs and its successors have rendered bunkers and fixed positions irrelevant. If the future battlefield is transparent and the kill chain is as swift as proponents anticipate, staying still is a death sentence.
That is, of course, a trite assessment, but it reflects that very little consideration is given to hardened positions in the modern era. King's College London professor David Betz offers an interesting corrective to this misguided notion in his new book "The Guarded Age" (a copy of which was kindly provided for review by the publisher).
In the interests of full disclosure, Betz was one of my tutors at King's whilst I pursued my MA in War Studies. Readers will now undoubtedly attempt to divine how fairly he marked my papers based on the outcome of this review.
Fortifications are not just castles and bunkers, as Betz shrewdly shows. The process of fortification is, ultimately, about controlling and channelling the movement of forces and people (and data, too). Sensibly broadening the definition without losing fidelity allows for a more nuanced consideration. Fortifications are all around us when we stop and look. Indeed, much of urban design and planning incorporates fortification at a base level.
As the war in Gaza illustrates, cities themselves, both before and after destruction, are perhaps the ultimate fortified position. Designed to channel the flow of people when intact, they serve as superb hardened positions when destroyed - deadly for offensive forces but ideal for defenders, enabling them to hold key positions and tie down attackers with minimal resources.
Whether Haussman's redesign of Parisian streets to prevent the creation of barricades or the redesign of the Strand outside of King's College London and across from Bush House, city planning is about restricting movement and creating safety and security. From personal experience, the space outside King's was hazardous to students' health as lorries, cars, and cyclists competed for space.
After considerable renovation and redesign, the space outside the Strand Campus is a delightful haven for students.
There is a palpable sense of enthusiasm, tempered by shrewd professionalism, that suffuses Betz' writing and elevates his final product. "The Guarded Age" is a book that runs counter to the zeitgeist of defence and security writing, where everything is about mobility, manoeuvre, autonomy, and precision. In an era when everything seems fluid, writing about something that is fixed seems odd.
In less enthusiastic hands, the case for discussing and considering what fortifications are and could be would be harder to make. Writing about fortifications of the past? Decidedly easier. Writing about fixed positions and emplacements when everything is about drones and hypersonic munitions? Vastly more difficult.
Fortifications have a "strategic stratigraphy" to them, Betz writes. In essence, successive cultures, countries, or armed forces build upon the fortifications and embattlements of the past - a palimpsest approach to digging in and hardening positions. This, on reflection, is rather self-evidence but a novel way of looking at the bastions of the past and today. As others like Tim Marshall have eloquently written, geography still matters.
While it does certainly change due to geological, meteorological, and cartographic developments, high ground remains high ground, channels remain channels, and the desire for strategic advantage endures. Yet beyond the positioning of fortresses, their design remains strikingly consistent - stone walls are succeeded by Hesco barriers and moats are replaced by concrete bollards. Even the designs of the past are found in use today, with medieval star forts being replicated in the Sahel.
A good idea remains a good idea.
Perhaps the sole exception to this rule is in the r...