Are you willing to die for your country?

Lying in the mud of a Dutch forest, Sabrina van den Goorbergh fires blanks from a Colt c7 assault rifle.

Oliver Thansan
Oliver Thansan
19 April 2024 Friday 10:22
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Are you willing to die for your country?

Lying in the mud of a Dutch forest, Sabrina van den Goorbergh fires blanks from a Colt c7 assault rifle. The third-year medical student is participating in Dienjaar (year of service), a new program that allows young Dutch people to sign up for a one-year trial in the armed forces instead of the usual four years of enlistment. The program is a success, attracting three applicants per place, and the government plans to expand it next year and go from 625 to 1,000 recruits.

However, that barely solves the country's recruiting problems. The Dutch armed forces have 49,000 soldiers, less than a fifth of the size they had during the Cold War, and one in ten positions is vacant. Last year, ordinary enlistment only provided 3,600 of the expected 5,000 new soldiers. All this at a time when, faced with the biggest war on the continent since 1945, many European countries aspire to expand their armed forces, not just maintain them. Germany hopes to increase its troops in 2030 and go from 182,000 to 203,000 soldiers; France, going from 240,000 to 275,000 (see graph 1). Poland plans to go from 197,000 to 220,000 by the end of this year, and then reach 300,000.

The problem is that today's individualistic, career-oriented youth are reluctant to join the military. And it's not just Europe that has problems with recruitment. In the flashpoints of conflict on the planet and also around them, the question of how to increase the number of uniformed personnel is vital. Some countries are revisiting an old solution: compulsory military service for young people (or young men), often just out of school. The terminology varies. Conscription usually refers to the non-voluntary enlistment of civilians in the armed forces, while military service often refers to a subset of that obligation: ordering young men to spend a stint in the armed forces.

At the beginning of the 20th century, about 80% of countries had some form of conscription; by the mid-2010s, the percentage fell to less than 40%. The practice reached its peak during the world wars, and many countries continued to resort to it during the Cold War. The West then focused on high-tech counterinsurgency campaigns, such as those in Afghanistan and Iraq. Armies created with mass recruitment were mostly replaced by smaller volunteer forces made up of professionals.

Since 1995, 13 members of the OECD, a club of mostly wealthy countries, have abolished mandatory conscription. Of the 32 members of NATO, only eight maintain it. However, authoritarian countries such as Iran, North Korea and Russia have turned to armies fueled by forced recruitment.

The most urgent debate over conscription and conscription occurs in countries that face a serious threat of war, or are already embroiled in conflict. Take the case of Ukraine. More than two years after the Russian invasion, thousands of men are crossing the borders fleeing the country, or hiding, to avoid being given their enlistment documents. On April 2, troop shortages forced the Ukrainian government to lower the minimum recruiting age from 27 to 25. Russia has thrown hundreds of thousands of forcibly mobilized men into the meat grinder of its war.

In Israel, military duties constitute a central pillar of citizenship. Following the October 7 attacks, some 300,000 Israelis left civilian life and hastily joined their units. Israel wants to lengthen the service of male conscripts to three years (currently women serve 24 months and men 32) and extend the call-up age of reservists to 45 years. At the same time, the exemption from military service enjoyed by ultra-Orthodox Jews is the subject of a bitter political struggle.

In Asia, Taiwan is trying to prepare for a possible war with China as Sino-US tensions persist. In 2022, she extended military service from four months to one year. However, the island still has only 169,000 active soldiers (China has around 2 million). South Korea, where military service has a reputation for brutality, is trying to make it more attractive. It has been shortened to 18 months, salaries are rising and the sadistic drill sergeants have been purged. The government also wants to recruit more women (men-only conscription has fueled male resentment and anti-feminist politics).

In many places, those responsible for recruiting into the armed forces must face a change in values: young people have become reluctant to fight even in defensive wars. For decades, the World Values ​​Survey (WVS), an academic research project, has been asking people around the world the same question: “Would you be willing to fight for your country?” In the most recent round of the survey, with questions asked between 2017 and 2022, only 36% of Dutch people aged 16 to 29 answered affirmatively (see chart 2).

Recruiters try to react with the rhetoric of patriotism, self-actualization, and shared values; The emphatic slogan of the Bundeswehr, the German armed forces, is “Wir. Dienen. Deutschland” (We Serve. Germany.) The Bundeswehr also runs campaigns with influencers on TikTok and Instagram. However, that does not seem to be enough to achieve the proposed objectives. In part, it was to be expected. As countries become richer, their citizens tend to be less willing to sacrifice for the country. German political scientist Herfried Münkler said that Western democracies were “post-heroic” societies in which “the highest value is the preservation of human life” and personal well-being. History certainly plays a role. Willingness to fight is low in the countries that lost the Second World War (Germany, Italy and Japan). In Spain and Portugal, decades of military dictatorship have made many citizens distrust the armed forces.

However, things can change as conflicts approach. According to a forthcoming paper by Wolfgang Wagner and Alexander Sorg of the Free University of Amsterdam and Michal Onderco of Erasmus University Rotterdam, the proximity of a war makes citizens more willing to fight. In Europe, that helps explain why Russia's neighbors are more belligerent.

Political orientation is not a good indicator of willingness to bear arms. “The radical right is not willing to fight,” says Wagner, at least in Germany and the Netherlands. Last year, he and his colleagues commissioned a study in those countries that found that few of the people who planned to vote for far-left or far-right parties were willing to fight for their country. Those who supported centrist parties, such as the German Social Democrats and Christian Democrats, were more willing to do so (graph 3).

In addition to facing changing values, military recruiters also face an economic obstacle: young people today have many employers bidding for their services. In most rich countries, Generation Z has a choice of jobs. In the European Union, the unemployment rate among young people aged 15 to 24 was 14.5% last year, compared to 22.4% in 2015. In Germany it was only 5.8%. In such tight labor markets, militaries have a difficult time competing with the private sector. Plus, sitting at a desk is much more pleasant than crawling through the mud.

Still, in some rich countries, the readiness of young people to fight remains high. In France, the proportion is 58%, according to the EMV. The percentage is even higher in Singapore, Taiwan and South Korea. In Denmark, Finland, Norway and Sweden, four of the richest and most peaceful countries in the world, two-thirds or more of citizens say they are willing. (They are all close to Russia.) Their expanding armed forces face no problems finding soldiers: in all four, military service is mandatory for young men.

Sweden actually eliminated the practice in 2011, but reintroduced it in 2018 after failing to meet recruitment targets. It is a very interesting case study for other countries. Recently incorporated into NATO, the country is going from 69,700 to 96,300 soldiers, for which it needs about 10,000 recruits a year. All 19-year-olds in the country (both men and women) are required to fill out service questionnaires; just under a third meet the requirements, and a tenth are ultimately recruited.

Instead of turning young people away from the armed forces, compulsory service in Sweden seems to instill more enthusiasm in them. In exit surveys at the end of the service period, “about 80% of recruits would recommend other young people to do military service,” says Defense Minister Pal Johnson. 30% re-enlist as soldiers or reservists. As there are more suitable young people than are needed, only the best candidates manage to enter; On the other hand, military service looks good on the resume.

That type of recruitment helps keep the Nordic armies a melting pot of different classes, and discourages political polarization. (Armed forces volunteers tend to lean right; in Germany, neo-Nazi cells have been discovered in the Bundeswehr.) Also in the Middle East, many states see military service for young people as a social glue. The United Arab Emirates introduced it in 2014 in part to forge a sense of shared identity among its youth. Morocco, Jordan and Kuwait have followed suit.

The shortage of troops in many democratic states indicates that improving recruitment strategies does not do much to increase the number of soldiers. Few medical students have Van den Goorbergh's drive to undertake parallel infantry training. In liberal societies, large segments of the population have come to view service in the military as a job that is not for them. Reintroducing compulsory military service for young people could be politically and practically unfeasible for the same reason that recruitment is scarce: citizens feel alienated from the armed forces.

However, the Nordic model appears to help bridge that gap: it ensures that military service remains a natural part of social life and encourages more young people leaving school to consider a career related to the armed forces. Other young people may enlist, but only in case of a crisis. “What moves you to action is fear,” says Andrei, a former television producer now fighting in eastern Ukraine. He enlisted the day after the Russian invasion. Most Ukrainians also did not believe they would ever have to fight for their country.

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Translation: Juan Gabriel López Guix