by Pawel Motyl
The approaching war with Russia was perceived by Adolf Hitler in a somewhat surprising manner. He considered the assault on Moscow not as an attempt at conquering another country, but as an important step in the ongoing air battle with the UK, which he viewed as his major rival in Europe. Franz Halder, Head of the German General Staff, cited Hitler’s opinion in his memoirs:
With Russia smashed, Britain’s last hope would be shattered... Decision: Russia’s destruction must therefore be made part of this struggle. [... ] The sooner Russia is crushed the better. 10
The Führer thought that the UK, like France, was a defeated country and that it was clinging to the hope that the Soviet Union would enter the war. In this, he completely underestimated the military potential of Russia. General Erich Marcks, whom Hitler entrusted with preparing the analysis preceding the attack, estimated Russian forces at 151 divisions of infantry, of which barely 100, in his opinion, could be sent into battle. On top of this, Marcks thought that the Red Army, with its KV-1 and T-34 tanks, would be defenseless in the face of the Panzerwaffe brought from France—that assumption turned out later to be painfully wrong. The German leaders’ dominant conviction of their total superiority over the Soviets was rooted in a stereotype—dignitaries of the Third Reich viewed the Russians as backward simpletons, incapable of fighting. Influenced by this, Marcks estimated the campaign would last for about five to seven weeks, in which time the Wehrmacht was supposed to get to Moscow without encountering any difficulties. Any opinions that this was rather optimistic were rejected for not being in accordance with the Führer’s view (advocacy approach!). Even Halder, who in earlier years had occasionally had the nerve to contradict the dictator, changed his point of view. Hitler meanwhile, drunk on his success in France, went so far as to state that, in comparison with what had already been achieved, defeating the Soviets would be child’s play—Sandkastenspiel, or literally “playing in a sandpit.” It was also to be another lightning war. As it turned out though, in this case, the Blitzkrieg had very little Blitz and a whole lot of Krieg—the operation dragged on interminably, the literal size of the battlefield became a serious obstacle to supplying the German armies, and the Red Army turned out to be far better trained and organized than the Germans had thought.
Operation Barbarossa was launched on June 22, 1941, although Hitler had actually signed the order authorizing it in December 1940. Many of his advisors were concerned about waging a war on two fronts at the same time, but nobody was bold enough to stand up to the Führer (it would be absurd to make any kind of comment here about the lack of psychological security), and so the decision to strike the Soviet Union along three corridors was made. At 3:15 am, the Heeresgruppe Südukraine (Army Group South) set off in the direction of Donbass, Heeresgruppe Mitte (Army Group Center) started on the march toward Moscow, and Heeresgruppe Nord (Army Group North) began operations on the territory of the Baltic states, headed toward Leningrad. Simultaneously, more than six hundred Luftwaffe planes bombarded key targets in western parts of the USSR. It was an unprecedented operation: around 3.5 million German soldiers were involved, with over 7,000 cannons, and almost 4,000 tanks at their disposal. The strike came as a total surprise to the Soviets, even though the possibility of a German attack had been discussed repeatedly. In addition, on June 25, Finland declared war on the Soviet Union, actively fighting alongside the German forces.
The first weeks of Operation Barbarossa went according to the German plan, though the Soviets put up far fiercer resistance here and there than had been expected. The first serious challenge for the Wehrmacht arose at the battle for Smolensk, which took place in July 1941 and delayed the march of the Army Group Center on Moscow. Despite this, the German forces pushed on, and in September scored a spectacular success, which Hitler dubbed the greatest in history, by encircling and destroying considerable Red Army forces at Kiev. The road to Moscow was open, and at the beginning of October, Operation Typhoon, whose aim was to capture the Soviet capital, began.
In the same period, though, numerous previously unexpected (albeit entirely predictable) developments began to unfold. The most significant of these was the rebuilding of the Red Army in terms of manpower, which the USSR achieved by the straightforward method of drawing on its enormous population, with endless more divisions being formed throughout the country and hurled into battle. The Germans, who suffered serious losses in the first few months of Operation Barbarossa, had no such resources at their disposal. A second unexpected development concerned supplies. The operation had been planned as a lightning strike, and supplies had been issued with a short duration in mind. As the operation dragged on, major problems arose with the supplies (fuel to begin with, as they had only three months’ worth). These problems were exacerbated by the sheer expanse of the Soviet territory, which was taking longer to traverse than the Germans had imagined. The third wrench in the works was thrown by Nature. The Germans were not prepared for the Baltic winter—again, they’d expected to be done and dusted by that point—and the winter of 1941–42 was a particularly bitter one.
On December 5, 1941, something happened that even Hitler hadn’t contemplated. The Red Army he had treated with such contempt launched a counterattack. Later referred to as the winter counteroffensive, it turned the German forces back from Moscow, causing heavy losses (it’s estimated that Army Group Central lost tens of thousands of troops during Operation Typhoon). While this didn’t give the Soviets the upper hand, it was the first snag in a hitherto unbroken string of German successes. Operation Barbarossa was at a standstill, sinking in the spring thaw that had paralyzed military movement on both sides. Moscow had been saved, and an irritated Führer ordered the start of an operation named Fall Blau in the south, even though the German army chiefs favored regrouping and maintaining the current position. The plan for Fall Blau involved cutting the Red Army off from the Caucasus and capturing Stalingrad by way of a grand finale. The main burden of the task rested with the 6th Army, led by Field Marshal Friedrich Wilhelm Paulus. He initially handled the job brilliantly, and by fall 1942, the Wehrmacht had managed to take most of the city, massacring its inhabitants in the process. But then the German army found itself facing an old adversary—Nature swept in a second monumental winter, for which Hitler’s soldiers were not prepared, because a supply chain to the remote units at the front still hadn’t been established. The effects were appalling: Paulus’s soldiers starved, suffered dreadfully from frostbite, and indisputably lost their fighting spirit as attempts to provide them with food and ammunition by air proved insufficient. Faced with this situation, Paulus asked Hitler for permission to withdraw and regroup, but the Führer refused and demanded they go back on the attack. This was mission impossible—they were instantly caught in a pincer movement by divisions led by Generals Konstantin Rokossovsky and Andrey Yeryomenko that encircled Paulus’s exhausted 6th Army. The Field Marshal himself was called on to surrender, but initially refused. So, on January 26, 1943, the Red Army began an operation that sealed the fate of the German soldiers, and the Field Marshal, against Hitler’s wishes, threw in the towel five days later. At Stalingrad, not only did hundreds of thousands of people die, so too did any German hopes of turning around the war.
The end of 1942 brought the Führer yet more problems on other fronts: the defeat of the legendary Afrika Korps of Erwin Rommel at El-Alamein 11 meant the situation in Africa had reversed, and Japan, one of the Axis countries, was defeated at the Battle of Guadalcanal. Despite this, Hitler didn’t give up on his offensive strategy, and in spring 1943, he gave the order to launch Operation Citadel, aimed at cutting off divisions of the Red Army grouped near Kursk. The attack, whose launch date was repeatedly delayed due to ongoing supply problems, was slated to begin on the night of July 4 with a strike by German armored units with air support. Unlike the beginning of Operation Barbarossa, this time the Soviets knew all about the German plans, as military intelligence had supplied detailed information on the planned attack s
everal days earlier; hours before the Germans launched their operation, the Soviets bombarded the positions held by the Wehrmacht. This delayed the onset of Operation Citadel, giving the Red Army extra time to prepare their defense.
The Battle of Kursk lasted for almost two months and became a breakthrough event not only in terms of fighting in Soviet territory, but also in terms of the entire war on the Eastern Front—it was a battle that changed the course of World War II. It was also one of the biggest clashes in the history of humankind, as both sides mobilized forces exceeding 1 million soldiers. During weeks of fierce fighting, dozens of clashes and battles took place, of which the most important was one of the first. On July 12, in the vicinity of Prokhorovka, a massive tank battle, totaling more than a thousand vehicles, raged for several hours. Germany lost the battle, suffering heavy losses in equipment that they could not replenish given the existing strain on resources, forces spread far and wide, and supply chains stretched to breaking point. Smelling blood after the destruction of the German armored forces at Prokhorovka, the Soviets went on the counteroffensive with Operation Kutuzov, pushing the Wehr-macht onto the defensive as its situation became progressively more desperate. In August, it became clear that all was lost and that the Germans’ only option was to retreat. The Red Army followed in relentless pursuit, bludgeoning their way west through Poland and eventually arriving in Berlin less than two years later, in April 1945. The disastrous strategic decisions made by the Führer led the Germans to defeat and brought the bloodiest war in human history to a close.
The causes of the catastrophe that befell Hitler and the German army were identical to those that raised their heads in the Gulf of Tonkin and Washington almost twenty-five years later: The lack of an inquiry approach and thorough assessment of the strength of an opponent, resulting from delusions of one’s own greatness fueled by a recent history of success. Pressure from a leader who totally ruled out any discussion about the vision they imposed (any analyses that were presented, just as in the Gulf of Tonkin situation, distorted the facts and presented the picture the leader wanted to see). And the sunk costs effect, which made it impossible to withdraw or change course once it became clear that the original strategy wasn’t providing the desired results.
We could go a step further and say that Adolf Hitler failed to learn the lessons of history when he decided to start a war against the USSR in that way and under those circumstances. General Carl Gottlieb von Clausewitz, a Prussian military strategist and author of On War, published in 1832, commented on Napoleon Bonaparte’s Russian defeat, suffered twenty years earlier, thus:
[The Russian campaign of 1812 showed that] Russia is not a country that can be formally conquered [... ] certainly not with the present strength of the European States and not even with the half-a-million men Bonaparte mobilized for the purpose. [... ]
The 1812 campaign failed because the Russian Government kept its nerve and the people remained loyal and steadfast. The campaign could not succeed. [... ]
[Bonaparte’s fault] lay in his being late in starting the campaign, in the lives he squandered by his tactics, his neglect of matters of supply and of retreat. 12
Many historians believe that if Hitler had chosen another, more considered strategy after conquering France—as some advisors suggested to him—the war would have turned out very differently, as the Germans, utilizing their resources more sensibly, would have been much more difficult to defeat. 13
Leaders assume an enormous responsibility when they make decisions regarding the strategic direction of developments. The slightest error at the preparation stage can have dire consequences later on, when it’s impossible to turn things around. Hence the absolute necessity of conducting a thorough analysis and instigating an inquiry approach, and of surrounding yourself with the right people and giving them the requisite psychological security to enable open, honest dialogue.
Rule #12
Great leaders are distinguished by their awareness that greatness is no guarantee of infallibility.
Making strategic decisions and setting out the path for others to follow seems to be the magnum opus of most leaders, and it is perceived by many as their greatest challenge. I think, though, that leaders have more difficult issues to cope with. One of these involves the introduction of radical changes in an organization, especially if they are supposed to reshape the organizational culture.
The Leader as an Agent of Change
Strategic decisions usually mean that certain changes will have to be implemented. And while it’s probably reasonable to assume that most of us would see the sense in making changes if things are going badly, it is possibly more beneficial to look at cases where an organization was successful but a leader opted to defy the conventional wisdom of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and decided to introduce major changes.
This was the backdrop to what became a classic case of change management. In 1981, John (Jack) Welch took over at General Electric, the company founded by Thomas Alva Edison. The company was in excellent shape at the time, and the position of chairman had opened up following the retirement of the legendary Reginald H. Jones, who had led the business since 1972 and—in addition to doubling its earnings—had transformed it into a radical, forward-thinking company, based on a strategy of business units, rather than more traditional structures. Most analysts thought the very young, by GE standards, CEO would simply continue along the lines of his illustrious predecessor. The first couple of years soon disabused them of such ideas.
Despite his relative youth, Welch, who had been with GE for over twenty years, knew the strengths and weaknesses of the company inside out. He realized that the transformations carried out by Jones were just the beginning, and that continuing growth was dependent on further change. Welch’s vision was simple: GE, despite its size (at the beginning of the 1980s, the corporation employed over 400,000 people and operated in dozens of sectors), was to become as dynamic as a small company, and its employees were therefore expected to think like entrepreneurs, showing genuine customer orientation. Welch, nicknamed “Neutron Jack” by his colleagues, touched down like an atomic bomb: by 1985 he had slimmed down the organization to 299,000 employees, eliminating numerous levels of management and flattening the structure. This was accompanied by a rule—a controversial one in the eyes of many—whereby, regardless of the results of a unit, every year, in accordance with his “rank and yank” policy, the 10 percent least effective employees were given the push. Welch’s obsession with leadership extended into the market dimension. During the 1980s, he implemented the unprecedented strategy of selling off business units that were not and had no chance of becoming leaders in their sectors. This gradually turned the unwieldy giant into a super-dynamic organization in which the overriding goal was to be number one in every field of operation. GE, meanwhile, didn’t forget about quality, which is often a victim in such transformations. From 1995 onward, the company consistently implemented the Six Sigma system, developed by Motorola, to reduce the number of errors generated by processes and people. Its implementation not only required an enormous effort in terms of training and reorienting the organization toward the customer and their satisfaction, but also was a test of the quality of the leadership and engagement of the employees.
The solutions resulted in changes, not only financially and in terms of customer satisfaction, but also in the attitudes of employees. As one of the managers of Morgan Stanley Dean Witter observed, GE achieved not only extraordinary levels of quality but also sustainable solutions. In the initial phase, while many initiatives identified and eliminated problems in the organization, after the new system had worked efficiently for a while, the old problems resurfaced. The Six Sigma approach, however, created a feeling of responsibility among the Black Belts 14 for continuing the new way of working. A characteristic feature of the GE management culture at the same time was that managers and specialists were more and more involved in the decision-making p
rocess. Welch knew that nothing generated more engagement in people than an awareness of being a co-author of a solution.
