Introduction

What follows seeks not to rehash ground familiar to many readers. We are confident that most are aware of what has become all but common knowledge, e.g., that over half of the world’s population now lives in urban areas and has done so for two decades or more. Not a few demographers estimate that value will approach, if not exceed, 70 percent by 2050. So too, recent decades have seen no diminishment in the roles played by cities during war; avoiding urban contestation has become all but impossible. We consider, but do not dwell on, why this is so. Nor do we delve too deeply into how difficult it is to fight in these complex environments. We do, of course, recognize the reasons for, difficulties concerning and tragedies inherent to this state of affairs. Such practices as adversaries deliberately putting innocents at risk by hiding within urban populations—weaponizing actual or fabricated civilian harm as a strategic tool—are all too routine.^[1] And so, in lieu of revisiting what has become commonplace in daily readings, we instead have chosen to focus on how current and emerging technologies, understanding of past contingencies and innovative approaches could make future urban combat more efficient and less punishing for warriors and innocents alike. With the right approach, tomorrow’s urban struggles can be less costly in terms of human life and physical destruction. Addressing how to accomplish these desirable ends is our motivation for writing.

Recent Urban Combat: Reasons and Responsibilities

Fighting in Vietnam was rightfully characterized as primarily rural. Yet, in 1968, the struggles for Hue and Saigon were the signature—arguably the decisive—battles of that conflict. More recently, virtually all major U.S. combat in Iraq was conducted in and around cities. Despite most fighting being rural, it was the fall of Kabul that marked the end of fighting in Afghanistan. In the past several years, the same has been true of cities in Syria. On a smaller scale, it was combat in Panama’s urban areas that proved decisive during the 1989 Operation Just Cause. Similarly, the loss of two Blackhawk helicopters in the October 1993 Battle of Mogadishu relegated any of the fighting that was not in that city to the back pages. And so it is today in Gaza, Lebanon and Ukraine. Such seizures or losses of villages, towns and cities have long been the mark of wars’ progress or lack thereof. Clashes that grabbed and held headlines—and the attention of governments—during and in the months following Russia’s renewal of aggression in February 2022 in Ukraine were those seeking the capture or recapture of Kyiv, Kharkiv, Kherson, Mariupol and other major Ukrainian cities.

Even a cursory examination of the above examples reveals many of the “whys” explaining urban combat’s emergence as a ubiquitous feature of 21st-century conflict. Among them are strategic matters of concern to leaders at the highest political levels: retention of symbolic cities (Kyiv, Aleppo and Gaza among them); a conqueror’s taking possession of key geographical locations (Kyiv again; Russia’s early 2022 failure to take that city was the most prominent of black eyes handed to them by Ukraine’s defenders); control of ports and airfields crucial to further operations (Mogadishu in 1993); and securing vital road intersections, rail hubs, economic centers or other key infrastructure (e.g., Ukraine’s Kharkiv and Mariupol). Additional reasons for seizing urban areas have included definitively ending a war: Berlin in 1945, Panama City in 1989 and—seemingly but deceptively—Baghdad in 2003. Russian leaders purportedly sought to take Kyiv in 2022, given the expectation that its fall would precipitate a broader Ukrainian surrender.

Less recognized are the weighty responsibilities that come once a force controls all or part of an urban area. International law leaves no doubt that an occupier must provide services in many ways that the country’s own governors would: sufficient sustenance, medical care, shelter and other necessities. Innocent residents should not suffer as victims of war. Not enough countries adequately plan for these responsibilities. (We’ll revisit this issue below.)

Challenges When Contesting a City

Successfully controlling a city includes several considerations. One must understand the urban environment and its challenges and train to address them. Understanding in hand, planning starts with settling on a definition of the desired end state: the set of required conditions existing on accomplishment of sought-after political, military, economic, psychological and other relevant objectives. This end serves as the guiding light for both the planning and conduct of operations. An acceptable end state generally includes minimizing collateral damage to physical and social infrastructures to an extent consistent with these objectives. This approach to urban conflict will not result in bloodless battles. It should, however, facilitate less destructive approaches to urban combat. Fortunately, there are numerous emerging technologies that provide previously unavailable capabilities abetting these goals.

Just as the World War II soldier fought far differently from his forebears standing in the ranks at Waterloo, today’s urban warriors are unlikely to find themselves on a battlefield with the opposing sides separated by well-defined lines. Urban combat is a mire. Tales of Hamas fighters emerging behind Israel Defense Forces have for years been commonplace; adversaries tunneling under and interspersing themselves with civilians has become the norm.^[2] Similarly, Russians seeking to overrun Ukrainian urban defenders in 2022 not only confronted forces front and rear, left and right, but also found civilians far distant from those defenders using phones and computers to report the locations of the Russians who were invading their cities.

The nature of urban terrain offers additional challenges rarely found elsewhere. This can, in turn, lend significance to a place that, in different circumstances, would rarely be seen as a target. The debris of urban battle, for example, makes movement and maneuver difficult. Savvy defenders take advantage of such obstacles by seeding urban areas with mines and other lethal explosives. Defenders may then find that the first approaching hostile vehicles are not tanks or personnel carriers, but bulldozers. As these bulldozers are armored to protect their operators both from the explosives in the debris and the malevolence of bullets, the defenders’ first goal becomes destroying or at least disabling these vehicles. Another distinct feature when fighting in an urban area: the seemingly innumerable windows, doorways, drainage inlets and rooftops add up to seemingly innumerable possible locations that might conceal snipers or other combatants. Urban battlefield geography is three-dimensional to an extent not found in other environments—and not just above ground. Tunnels and other below-ground structures are increasingly commonplace in today’s war zones. Cellars, underground parking garages and utilities’ subterranean conduits are now the norm in urban landscapes. The implications of this three-dimensionality extend well beyond a foe’s ability to infiltrate behind an adversary. Whether tunnel, subway station or below-ground shopping mall (some of these malls extend for multiple kilometers), many of these structures have the potential to serve not only as movement corridors but also as shelters—for noncombatants as well as the opposing force’s soldiers—storage facilities, headquarters, field hospitals or other functions, limited only by the imagination. And some of these underground features are gargantuan—Tokyo’s storm drainage system being an example. (See Figure 1.)

Select subterranean structures are purpose-built by an adversary. Such is the case with tunnels in Gaza that serve only military needs. Other features might have long been in place. That is no guarantee they will be easily located by an adversary. Urban subsurface features are notorious for (1) not appearing on maps or (2) appearing on diagrams available only to the organization that constructed them. Electric company A or water utility B might have records identifying below-ground features for which they are responsible. City officials often do not have these maps or databases in which all subterranean features appear.

Nevertheless, those who best know an urban area are its local authorities. Identifying and incorporating these individuals into planning is essential. It is not easy. Even if a particular city were able to provide such expertise, providing the information for the entirety of its wider urban area—consisting of multiple cities, towns and smaller communities—can require extensive cooperation across political and corporate lines. “Who will pay for this?” will pose a greater obstacle to success than challenges associated with data compilation or creation of graphic imagery. Some understanding of the extent of this challenge is evident when considering, for example,

Los Angeles County is home to 88 incorporated urban governments, ranging from the City of Los Angeles (population 3.9 million) to the collection of buildings and land making up Vernon, population 76. One can find 42 police departments (not including school police and other purpose-specific forces), 30 fire departments and 80 school districts in that county alone. Tokyo is no different with its 23 wards and 26 recognized cities, seven towns and eight villages within just the city “core” that was Tokyo Prefecture in 1943.^[3]

Subterranean features pose issues other than the obvious concerns with adversary infiltration, concealment and explosives emplacement. Requesting fire support—whether from aircraft, artillery, mortars or otherwise—traditionally relies on communicating a two-dimensional map coordinate. Above or below ground, a third dimension poses something of a quandary. How does one request engagement of a target on a given floor? Or a certain distance underground? Bombs and rounds need to be fused in such a way that they do not explode either too early or too late. And the difficulties do not end with specifying on which floor or how far underground a target is. Munitions do strange things when impacting a building and when burrowing. Soldiers tasked with neutralizing unexploded ordnance know all too well that neutralizing a munition can mean snaking through tens of meters of debris or soil types. Further complicating the task: Nomenclature for floors can be very different depending on location, even within an urban area. Contemplate the following challenge for someone within a structure needing to call for fire support:

Many U.S. high-rises have no 13th floor—a critical factor should a shooter or victim have to be dealt with from the outside of the structure. . . . In China, it is the fourth floor or any ending in “4” that might be skipped (in some cases, any floor with “4” appearing at all, which also casts out 40–43 and 45–49).^[5]

Vancouver, Canada, is a city with a considerable Chinese population. Concerns with the number “4” mean that one 53-story apartment building has a 60th floor!^[6]

There are more issues to consider with subterranean spaces. Being inside a building frequently interferes with communications and navigation equipment; that phenomenon is only further aggravated underground. There are re-transmitter technologies that provide maintenance of signals in such environments. A force (or robot) working its way through a large complex building or below-ground system can place re-transmitters such that each maintains line-of-sight with that before and after. With regard to detecting a foe’s movement under such conditions, improved acoustic or seismic detection could, in the future, allow pinpointing a subterranean incursion to an extent now impossible.

As we mentioned earlier, it is an occupier’s responsibility to provide for the civic needs of a noncombatant population. Both international and humanitarian law affirm this. These obligations are especially burdensome when the occupied area is urban, as Allied militaries found on entering European and Pacific cities during World War II. They encountered millions of civilians who were on the edge of starvation and had no proper housing, medical care or other necessities. The scope and difficulty of the problem, especially in the midst of ongoing war, meant that thousands of noncombatants died. More recently, in 2016–2017, when the United States was looking at the potential of needing to care for residents of Mosul, Iraq, the Iraqi military and its U.S. advisors partnered with a number of intergovernmental and nongovernmental organizations (IGOs and NGOs, respectively) during the ongoing fighting to provide humanitarian services even before much of the city had been retaken. Coordinating with Iraqi leaders so as not to overwhelm available services, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) worked to orchestrate the movement of civilians leaving the urban area; facilitated their screening, medical and other care; and provided shelter sufficiently remote from the ongoing battle. This undertaking provides valuable insights for how to deal with the particular challenge of caring for civilians when a force is conducting operations in or near major urban areas today.^[7] It highlights the complexity of IGO, NGO and host nation coordination requirements and the necessity of including these organizations during planning.

Although international law specifies an occupier’s responsibilities, it is not as clear about a force’s obligations when a military encourages civilians to depart an area (though forcing their displacement and failing to provide for those displaced is clearly noted as a violation). There is a need to update international guidance in light of this gray area. Failure to do so means that large numbers of civilians can be left to struggle for survival when displaced from sizable urban areas. Without further guidance, there will be increased noncombatant casualties. Addressing the issue should include accounting for cases in which the “encouraged” evacuation is merely a means to avoid occupier responsibilities. It should also consider conflicts in border regions. It seems reasonable to expect the displacing force’s country to replicate UNHCR’s Mosul operation in its own adjacent territory when resources elsewhere are insufficient to meet civilian needs, e.g., by providing medical care when hospitals are unable to do so.

Conducting War with Recovery in Mind

In the current decade, we are seeing striking changes in the ways militaries are conducting urban warfare. Some mitigate its worst effects. Technologies, unsurprisingly, play a significant role. Such advances offer both possible enhancements to existing capabilities and revolutionary innovation. One candidate for enhancement is pre-chambering. This involves designing bridges, road surfaces or other infrastructure to facilitate the placement of explosives that, when detonated, block passage by an adversary. These infrastructure features were commonplace in Cold War Germany. Many remain in the Republic of Korea today (see Figure 2). Germany’s Verteidigungsbezirkskommando (VBK), part of the country’s Territorial Army Command, maintained “target folders” for each pre-chamber location, noting how to prepare and detonate a target when directed. Destroyed targets were often all-or-nothing in character: What was before fully functional was now rendered totally inoperable. Defenders would often have to repair infrastructure that had been rendered useless when combat fortunes changed. An improved approach to this practice could scale the damage, accounting for the possibility of later returning the feature’s functionality. Dropping one span of a bridge instead of destroying the whole can be enough to stop the enemy. Though an all but forgotten (or, fortunately, unnecessary) capability in much of the world, pre-chambers continue to offer potential value for countries threatened by neighbors.

Ukrainian leaders might therefore find pre-chambering obstacles attractive during infrastructure repairs, given what will be the continued threat of Russian incursions after any “peace” creates a pause in the current phase of war. Engineers could dictate the design of future pre-chambers to provide for gradually escalating the extent of damage as required, thus facilitating quicker and cheaper post-conflict recovery. This eye-to-recovery could take many other forms, some providing notable benefits for noncombatant populations. Employing mines that render themselves inert after a specified period saves both the lives of innocents and the millions of dollars that would otherwise have to be spent in demining operations. The estimated bill to render mines and other unexploded ordnance (UXO) in Ukraine is well over $30 billion as of 2025. Some mines currently possess this feature; their batteries run down over time, or the munition self-destructs after a set period. (The latter option is obviously a less desirable alternative in densely populated areas). The vast majority of today’s mines remain active. Given that the disposal of UXO also requires neutralizing many tons of tank and artillery ammunition left on battlefields, as well as other explosive types stockpiled and later abandoned by one force or another (or remaining in destroyed or abandoned vehicles, as has often been the case in Ukraine), designing ammunition capable of rendering itself inert and environmentally unharmful would be similarly attractive.

Reaching into the past provides another example of the value in limiting urban destruction, namely, when the Allied forces in Italy took extraordinary measures to avoid the destruction of Rome’s historical, religious and other cultural treasures. The Allies devoted extensive planning and intelligence efforts to safeguarding iconic landmarks, to include providing pilots with detailed maps highlighting “no-strike” zones. Planners calculated bombing altitudes to maximize precision and minimize collateral damage. These efforts reflected a broader commitment to protecting the heritage of soon-to-be-occupied urban areas, even amidst the exigencies of war. They proved a success: Rome’s cultural and religious heritage was preserved for future generations.

Reflecting similar concerns, the decision to bomb Monte Cassino Abbey during the same conflict followed a contentious and protracted process marked by delays due to ethical, cultural and strategic concerns. The 6th-century Benedictine abbey, perched atop a hill overlooking the Gustav Line, was both a revered cultural landmark and a key tactical position in the German defenses. Allied commanders faced intense pressure to break through these defenses and advance toward Rome. Conflicting intelligence about the extent of German forces’ use of the abbey complicated decision-making. Allied leaders weighed military objectives against the potential backlash from destroying such an iconic site. Supreme Allied Commander General Dwight D. Eisenhower’s directives to preserve cultural and religious landmarks carried significant sway in the debates. However, after weeks of failed attempts to dislodge German forces and mounting frustrations on the battlefield, commanders on the ground authorized the bombing of the site on 15 February 1944. Over 140 bombers reduced the abbey to rubble. But the operation backfired; the Germans fortified the ruins, prolonging the campaign. The delay in the decision to bomb underscores the moral and strategic dilemmas faced when attempting to balance military necessity and the preservation of cultural heritage during wartime. Such challenges are particularly likely to arise in urban areas, given that cultural and historical features are so often centered there.

The Effect of Emerging and Future Technological Capabilities on Urban Warfare

The 2020s have brought unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) into the limelight—they are one of those “revolutionary” innovations mentioned above. Advances by the opposing sides in Ukraine have shown striking capability developments in terms of detection, surveillance and attack; these advances border on and arguably cross the line into the phenomenal. The implications have dramatically affected the character of war in multiple dimensions. Movement, dispersion, deception, camouflage, deep strike, ground/sea/air operations, concealment and—yes—subterranean applications have all spiked in significance for any force whose members want to survive (much less conduct) successful offensive or defensive undertakings. Maverick, Top Gun pilot extraordinaire, might not like to hear it, but the day may not be too distant when air superiority is largely dependent on UAVs. Emerging unmanned semi-autonomous and fully autonomous systems have the potential to dramatically decrease casualties among military forces. They also have the potential, if adequately designed with civilian population and infrastructure considerations in mind, to be much better at reducing wartime suffering more generally.

That potential holds notable promise for urban operations. Both rotary-wing (helicopters) and fixed-wing (e.g., fighter jets) have their place during these contingencies. Any airframe, however, is vulnerable to well-positioned, well-coordinated and mutually supporting antiaircraft weapons. Urban environments, akin to mountainous terrain, offer innumerable locations for concealing and shielding these lurking systems. Skillful intelligence preparation of the battlespace analyses can identify “dead space islands,” locations impossible or particularly difficult for antiaircraft systems to cover. Seldom do such locations offer continuous protected routes. Safe passage instead lies in a form of island-hopping between such spots, with aircrafts’ vulnerability increased in the interims. Future advances should see systems of unmanned vehicles—ground and air—in which some platforms provide counter-antiair protection, while attack, transport or logistics cooperatives conduct their tasks under this shielding umbrella. Long loiter times capable of providing continuous surveillance must be a requirement. Exposed antiaircraft systems will likely become a thing of the past, given the anticipated ubiquity of such airborne surveillance. We expect systems capable of exposing themselves only after detection of an inbound target to become the norm. Others might have the capability to engage from their hides, meaning they could remain virtually undetectable other than via backtracking the trajectory of the launched munition. Hyper-short detection-identification-engagement cycles will be essential for both counter-air and counter-counter-air capabilities. In the short term, manned (later unmanned) sniper teams will complement both functions, continuing in their current role as primarily observation and intelligence platforms and only secondarily as lethal engagement resources.

The war in Ukraine reveals the manpower-saving potential of unmanned platforms. One human can now seek out and engage multiple targets spread over a wide area (volume in urban environments) far greater than can today’s traditionally armed soldier or unit. Yet these multifaceted, multipurpose systems will come with significant requirements as battlefields see greater reliance on autonomous or semi-autonomous practices. Robust recharging and resupply capabilities will be essential. Whether for surveillance, attack, resupply or other functions, fully autonomous unmanned systems are the obvious future—though when any given capability can successfully achieve full autonomy remains a question. Autonomy implies systems not having to be directed to return to base for recharging and resupply and their possessing an organic capability to do so or an ability to link with similarly forward-deployed (and at least semi-autonomous) refueling, recharging and/or resupplying unmanned systems. These systems—both hunter capabilities and those supporting—should eventually benefit from increased solar panel and battery efficiency, more efficient sensors, innovative munitions, alternative power systems (e.g., hydrogen) or a combination of these and other capabilities.

The debate regarding full autonomy when it comes to permitting lethal engagement remains an active one. Full autonomy for other than simple tasks is months, years or even decades distant, notwithstanding dramatic recent artificial intelligence (AI) advances that have already reached singularity in terms of some functions.^[9] Nations insisting on maintaining a human-in-the-loop for lethal engagements are likely to find that their constraints put them at a considerable disadvantage when combating a foe less concerned with battlefield niceties. They are also likely to find that future AI-directed autonomous systems will eventually be better at making those life-and-death decisions than a human-in-the-loop system is. That will especially be the case when an individual is fatigued, enduring weather’s abuse or otherwise suffering the vagaries of war in a combat zone.

We would expect robotics’ enhancements to eventually make increasingly complex autonomous combat-related activities possible, e.g., repair of malfunctioning or damaged systems and the counter-electronic warfare (EW)/counter-AI operations necessary for unmanned operations in hostile environments. While removal of the need for human-to-vehicle links would eliminate significant vulnerabilities, jamming of individual systems’ internal components will remain a challenge. Shielding systems of systems, such as swarming unmanned ground vehicles or UAVs, will also still be required. Adaptations are essential, as significant changes to UAV capabilities or ways of neutralizing them were reportedly occurring every two to three months as of early 2025. The counters included adaptations both to EW and to new approaches, such as focusing sound waves to disrupt electromechanical sensors essential to the drones’ flight.^[10] Some current Ukrainian drones reduce vulnerability to jamming by having AI take over when the system closes to within a given range of its target, thereby relieving engagement of the need for a human-UAV link during those vital final seconds.^[11] Additional ways of systems attaining complete or nearly complete invulnerability to external interference could include individual systems (or systems of systems) sending internal instructions via short bursts and/or on fluctuating frequencies such that jamming would only be possible if EW operations were ongoing during those burst times (similar to frequency-hopping radios hindering intercept). Future systems could also have redundant means of internal signaling. The same capability would benefit any remaining human-to-unmanned system communications that are necessary, e.g., updating the latter’s assigned tasks given changes in battlefield conditions.

The current operation of unmanned ground and air systems tends to rely on remote control. These operations are therefore intrinsically linked to achieving and maintaining dominance in the electromagnetic spectrum. This dominance is essential because it ensures uninterrupted and secure communication channels between unmanned systems and their operators. To secure this critical advantage, EW and integrated cyber capabilities must work in tandem, creating a symbiotic relationship. EW focuses on disrupting, deceiving and denying adversaries’ use of the electromagnetic spectrum through tactics such as jamming and signal interception. Cyber operations include protecting and strengthening communication networks against digital threats, such as hacking and malware. Together, these capabilities engage in a continuous, often invisible, battle to control the electromagnetic environment, making it possible to safely and reliably manage unmanned systems.

Future AI systems should abet this symbiosis. They may also enhance target discrimination and accuracy through advanced sensors and real-time data analysis, enabling them to identify and engage only legitimate threats while avoiding harm to civilians and unnecessary destruction of critical infrastructure. These capabilities could significantly reduce collateral damage and enhance compliance with international law.

AI systems can further enhance their self-defense through adaptive signal processing and real-time threat detection to counteract attempts at interference or intrusion. As a result, the integration of sophisticated AI capabilities not only complements but also potentially mitigates the vulnerabilities associated with EW and cyber dependencies, paving the way for more secure and reliable unmanned operations in complex urban environments. This evolution underscores the importance of continuing to develop AI technologies alongside traditional EW and cyber strategies, ensuring that future unmanned systems can achieve operational freedom, greater accuracy and minimized collateral impact even in contested electromagnetic environments.

This discussion has only hinted at the full range of future capabilities that unmanned systems might possess and their application during urban combat operations. Similar to the groundbreaking AirLand Battle doctrine of the 1980s that addressed battlefield systems as they were being fielded, today’s doctrinal guidance and training should contemplate these evolutions even as the capabilities mature. Among the additional tasks likely executable by future unmanned competencies are obstacle emplacement, scouting, rendering basic first aid (or delivering equipment and supplies for such), and evacuating wounded or deceased from high-risk areas. Such systems could conceivably also allow for the unmanned occupation of seized urban areas and for the provision of civilian life sustainment. Algorithms allowing unmanned systems to replicate some extent of mission command will be essential if they are to attain truly autonomous status.^[12] This AI-assisted automated form of mission command would permit systems to adapt intelligently to changed task and mission conditions without the intervention of a human. Exhaustion of the algorithm’s guidance (e.g., when conditions differ so extremely that the system can no longer act within command intentions) would cause the vehicles to seek further guidance, go to ground or return to a designated location (perhaps for extraction by other unmanned capabilities).^[13]

AI advances also offer less-considered enhancements beyond gaining advantages over an adversary. Russia’s POM-3 anti-personnel mine is “smart” in the sense of its being able to discriminate between approaching dismounted personnel and vehicles. It would have little effect against the latter and so detonates only when a non-vehicular target comes within lethal range. Design specifications for future anti-personnel mines, anti-vehicular mines and other lethal systems could similarly require that they discriminate between armed and unarmed individuals to better preserve noncombatant life. They might conceivably further distinguish between enemy and friendly forces via the latter’s wearing a “badge” recognized by a system sensor. In the interim, the simple expedient of fabricating mines that are less attractive to children would be a step forward. Some currently feature bright colors and are mistaken as toys—with predictable results.

Technological ideas to make urban operations more efficient, less lethal and less devastating to infrastructure do not stop with AI or unmanned vehicles. Imagination and innovation will continue to be vital. So too will an appreciation for history. British engineers, for example, created mock urban areas and airstrips during World War II to trick German bombers into releasing their munitions in unpopulated areas. Later, to misdirect V1 and V2 targeting, British officials provided German intelligence with false impact reports, an adaptation that was necessary, as those weapons were pilotless. Today, individuals in Kyiv who are using their phones’ global positioning systems have found that their supposed location is many kilometers distant from where they actually are, a defensive spoofing likely employed to misguide Russian munitions.^[14]

Proposed: A Minor Sea Change During Planning for Urban Combat Operations

Our discussion thus far suggests several ways of expanding current military AI and technology concepts to better embrace noncombatant welfare concerns. That these would be particularly beneficial during urban operations is obvious given the quantity and density of noncombatants in those environments. It is a cruel truth in war that there are proportionate relationships between the extent of constraints in a force’s rules of engagement (ROE) that guide troop behavior, the rate of those soldiers’ combat progress and the number of civilian casualties. Looser ROE tend to speed progress at the expense of noncombatant lives. Tighter ROE slow advances but increasingly spare the innocent. The dynamism of combat ensures the relationships are never constant. Nor is a perfect balance possible.

Staffs develop alternative courses of action (COA) for their commander regarding how best to attain the end of an adversary’s destruction, defeat or otherwise-accomplished neutralization. In turn, the commander directs further development of one COA or, more likely, melds aspects of two or more with additional elements he chooses to introduce. COAs generally incorporate concerns for civilians via cautions and ROE constraints as COA add-ons rather than primary drivers. Commanders’ ROE guidance pertaining to noncombatant preservation ranges from significant limitations on the application of weaponry to little if any concern (the military’s country of origin being a significant factor in the choices made).

An alternative approach to this norm would see the introduction of a population-centric urban combat COA developed alongside those primarily focused on enemy neutralization. This COA would promote noncombatant welfare to a peer or primacy status while retaining pragmatic approaches for overcoming enemy resistance. It would include pre-operation definition of relevant decision points, e.g., what constitutes an acceptable number of collateral civilian casualties to accomplish task X. Other COA components might include limiting the extent of mine contamination or designating which areas are to see only smart mine use, urban areas being an obvious choice; selecting targets and the means of engagement with recovery considerations in mind (discussed more below); and identifying critical urban social system interdependencies (for example, recognizing that preserving medical facilities but denying power allows the former to function only as long as backup generators have fuel to operate). Staff members generating this noncombatant COA would conceivably include members of the command’s military planning staff, civil affairs representatives and, perhaps, others from outside organizations, such as NGO personnel who are familiar with the area of operations.^[15] We would expect this noncombatant COA to rarely be adopted as primary. It would, however, be briefed in parallel with the more combat-oriented COAs and integrated to the extent feasible.

There are potential technological developments capable of supporting such an increased visibility for noncombatant considerations. Improved sensors able to differentiate between foe, friend and innocent within buildings would serve both manpower preservation and humanitarian considerations. These could include sensing capabilities able to detect the presence of combat system-related chemicals; hyper-small unmanned systems able to enter enclosed areas similar to rodent or insect movement; or acoustic resources able to detect electronic signatures, distinctive sounds or lack thereof (e.g., those associated with particular weapons or other equipment, such as military radios).

Understanding that military authorities immediately assume an occupier’s responsibilities when taking ground, planning for and completing a timely handover of those responsibilities to qualified civilians should benefit both noncombatant and military personnel. A best-case scenario would see timely resumption of governing duties by a city’s displaced authorities. These individuals could cooperate with NGOs, IGOs and other organizations capable of providing life-sustaining support beyond the capacity of local government. The same organizations could assume some of or all of the governing duties in the absence of an existing local authority. Any groups with a history of supporting the city in question would be particularly helpful. Military staffs would capitalize on this familiarity with local conditions to preclude missteps such as unwittingly targeting hazardous material sites or other sensitive locations (e.g., medical facilities or research laboratories employing equipment with radiological components).

A few (frequently overlooked) common sense issues can facilitate both military operational and occupying authority effectiveness. Military organizations’ eminently logical practice of distinguishing individual unit areas of responsibility by designating boundaries along physical features constitutes a familiar best practice. While this makes sense during combat operations, it does not work as well once the firing stops. Physical boundaries (e.g., streams, highways, rail tracks) likely split communities, political jurisdictions and other social features. That means a town’s mayor, police and other officials have to coordinate with two, three or more military units (and, vice versa, units having thereby increased several times their number of liaison relationships). A better approach after combat is more or less concluded: Redraw boundaries, aligning them along governmental or other social lines to ease matters for both occupier and occupied (e.g., administrative delineations such as police precincts).

Facilitating liaison with a noncombatant population makes it easier to bring its members on as partners in their own survival and their city’s recovery. It is a vital task with significant implications; it must be done, no matter the difficulty of circumstances. Identifying key influencers—those with the ability to contact and sway relevant portions of the urban area’s residents—can be challenging. Believing individuals who self-identify as representative of significant communities, individuals particularly attractive when they speak the occupier’s language, has repeatedly proved ill-advised. But choosing correctly means an occupier can work through local representatives both to inform and influence. In the case of Ukraine, retention of legitimate government officials or their return once the Russians have been ousted from occupied urban areas has eased recovery undertakings. Regardless of the situation, obtaining information from members of a population requires:

• informing them of what types of input are needed;
• advising individuals on who should receive such information;
• ensuring residents have what they need to get information to designated recipients—redundant means are desirable as cell phone and internet connections might be unavailable or intermittent; and
• making sure residents providing information or other assistance receive feedback to encourage continued support;^[16] depending on the security situation, feedback may have to praise such service collectively or otherwise anonymously, as identifying individuals could put those providing information at risk.

Establishing ties opens communication channels that will later allow residents to share optimal paths to urban recovery. Incorporating public input has the added benefit of reinforcing governing authorities’ legitimacy. The same information channels allow authorities to provide locations of aid distribution points and other vital information. Should noncombatants remain in place? Move to another part of the urban area? Evacuate entirely? Such guidance has application both while combat operations are ongoing and in their aftermath. Without these contacts, it is impossible to control movement to the distribution points of food and other goods, to displaced person camps or neighborhoods, to medical care—or to facilitate safe environments for those especially vulnerable to violence. Word will spread regardless of authorities’ efforts to communicate. Uncontrolled, the result can overwhelm service locations and lead to rioting, fighting and other forms of unrest. Alternatively, wisely planned and executed population support activities provide a calm means of influencing noncombatant behaviors in ways beneficial to authorities and civilians alike. Knowledgeably siting these resources can also support maintenance of communities rather than fragmenting them, thereby preserving social ties supportive of individual and collective welfare.

Conclusion

Among the most significant ways of allaying the worst of urban warfare’s consequences is that of looking beyond the fighting to identify what social, physical, economic or other features a force should avoid targeting. Unlikely to achieve the status of prominent—much less preeminent—concerns during military planning and operational execution, including this consideration has the potential to mitigate the worst of destruction in terms of exacerbated costs, noncombatant lethality and difficulty of recovery. It goes without saying that, in this regard, as the adage reminds us, “The enemy has a vote.” The Russians, Hamas and the former Syrian government are three recent combatants that have demonstrated little concern for the extent of the damage they inflict. Indeed, quite the reverse; they have, on occasion, sought to inflict damage and injury well beyond international law constraints. Yet there is still benefit even if only one wartime combatant exercises such discretion. Similar to the need to contain the damage to infrastructure via progressive demolition, there is an outstanding need for technologies and doctrine that provide for targeting with an eye to recovery. For example, destruction of a city’s subway via collapsing its below-ground infrastructure could easily take years and millions of dollars to repair. Alternative ways of denying an enemy access are preferable. An analogous case is that of U.S. attacks on Iraqi power stations in 1991, during which chaff was dropped by aircraft to short the systems. The approach meant authorities could restore power quickly post-hostilities; the alternative—destruction of station generators—would have instead delayed restoration by months or years. Militaries routinely backward plan from the end state they seek to achieve. Incorporating noncombatant welfare and recovery considerations into those ends could do much to reduce both the short- and long-term consequences of war’s punishment. Such is also the case when designing or contemplating new technologies’ capabilities.

Both greater incorporation of noncombatant considerations and enhancing technological capabilities support broader conceptualization of one of military’s sacred cows: understanding what constitutes the concept of “maneuver.” As currently and long understood, maneuver is the “employment of forces in the operational area through movement in combination with fires to achieve a position of advantage in respect to the enemy.”^[17] Future military operations—operations all but inevitably undertaken with civilian partners—require a definition better suited to the expansion of militaries’ responsibilities and concerns regarding post-combat recovery. A more cognizant definition of maneuver would be the “employment of relevant resources to gain advantage with respect to select individuals or groups in the service of achieving specified objectives.”^[18] Inherently still incorporating the current understanding of the term, this proposed definition allows for application of resources beyond mere “employment of forces” and other exclusively military capabilities. The ends served extend beyond those relating only to adversaries. Enhancing what constitutes maneuver to address challenges inherent in both future wars and recovery from those wars better serves all parties: friendly force and noncombatant, occupied and occupier, government and governed.

Commanders and staff approaching urban operations can no longer focus on elimination of the enemy alone. Today, militaries representing civilized countries have an obligation to reduce war’s costs in civilian lives and damage to infrastructure to the extent that such limitation is feasible. That these two imperatives are inescapably in tension does not negate the necessity of dual pursuit. Emerging technologies can assist in cutting the Gordian knot. Determining how they will do so presents one of the coming decades’ premier security challenges.

• [1] Larry Lewis, Sabrina Verleysen, Samuel Plapinger and Marla Keenan, “Preparing for Civilian Harm Mitigation and Response in Large-Scale Combat Operations,” CNA paper DRM-2024-U-039078-Final, August 2024, 21.
• [2] There is some disagreement regarding preference for “noncombatant” or “civilian” to distinguish those who are other than combatants. According to one source, “civilian” is the preferred term in the international humanitarian community. Others favor “noncombatant,” as “civilian” in common usage can include those fighting who are not members of a formal military organization. Statuses are far from clear at times, and they can differ even minute to minute for those who move between combatant and noncombatant roles. Members of the North Vietnamese Army, for example, were members of a country’s military just as were U.S. Army Soldiers and members of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam. Viet Cong were not; they were combatants when bearing weapons but otherwise farmers or participants in other vocations. Regardless, they were civilians at all times and combatants only when acting as fighters. Thus, one argument goes, “combatant” and “noncombatant” are sharper and virtually mutually exclusive distinctions while “civilian” encompasses both some combatants and all noncombatants. The terms “noncombatant” and “civilian” are, in most instances, used interchangeably in this article.
• [3] Russell W. Glenn, Come Hell or High Fever: Readying the World’s Megacities for Disaster (Canberra, Australia: Australian National University Press, 2023), 79. https://press.anu.edu.au/publications/come-hell-or-high-fever.
• [4] Amano Jun-ichi, photograph, 12 November 2011, https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c0/Geofront_Temple%5E_%E9%A6%96%E9%83%BD%E5%9C%8F%E5%A4%96%E9%83%AD%E6%94%BE%E6%B0%B4%E8%B7%AF_-_panoramio.jpg. Usage permitted in accordance with Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license. For further information on this phenomenon, see “Tokyo flood defense network is an engineering marvel,” ConstructSteel, 2022, https://constructsteel.org/projects/tokyo-flood-defence-network-is-engineering-marvel/.
• [5] Glenn, Come Hell or High Fever, 245–246.
• [6] Curious about the math? You have 53 floors. Delete numbers 4, 13, 14, 24, 34, 44, so add 6 floors to get 59, but if you add 6 to 53 you have to skip 54, so the 53-story building has 60 floors on the elevator panel. Another possible source of confusion for emergency or military personnel in unfamiliar environments: What is almost (but not always) called the “first floor” in the United States and Canada tends to be labeled the “ground floor” in many other countries. The floor immediately above the ground floor is often labeled the first floor in these latter cases. There is obvious potential for confusion should someone used to the U.S./Canadian system be directing a raid or attempting to render aid to someone in a city using the alternative labeling—and vice versa. Not confusing enough? Even different buildings in the same city sometimes use alternative language for their ground, first and second floors.
• [7] For more, see Glenn, Come Hell or High Fever, 271–272 and 342–346.
• [8] Michael Day, photograph, “File: Entrance to the DMZ (6647229047).jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, 2 September 2010, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Entrance_to_the_DMZ_(6647229047).jpg. Image is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic.
• [9] In one description, “‘singularity’ describes an era where machines not only match but substantially exceed human intelligence, starting a cycle of self-perpetuating technological evolution.” To this understanding, it is important to add that singularity indicates “a point where existing models break down and continuity in understanding is lost.” In short, humans no longer understand what a particular form of AI is learning, how it arrives at that learning and to what contexts it might believe its learning applies. There is no reason to expect AI of all types to achieve singularity simultaneously. Almost assuredly, various forms and applications will do so at different times, times that could well be measured in years, decades or longer, a factor that further complicates those having to make decisions regarding employment of artificial intelligence in ways regarding military operations. All this assumes that singularity of any type actually comes about. It is likely that AI will eventually outperform humans in some ways while remaining unable to do so otherwise. Many make a good argument that such is already the case in some arenas. Quoted material from Tim Mucci, “What is the technological singularity?” IBM, 7 June 2024, https://www.ibm.com/think/topics/technological-singularity.
• [10] “The invisible war: Controlling the airwaves” and “All the right noises: Military acoustics,” The Economist 454, no. 9434 (8 February 2025): 63–65.
• [11] Shashank Joshi, “How AI-guided drones have come to Ukraine,” The Economist’s The War Room, 2 December 2024., https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/#label/Ukraine+book/WhctKLbNFRWDPFkhVpXfNbgvlKBTCRjWTXSqkkvMSRgGfBsrZJZCGSKFhtqkMTMCBMcDHMl.
• [12] Joint Chiefs of Staff, Joint Publication (JP) 1, Volume 1, Joint Warfighting (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 27 August 2023), II-13 and III-1. (Emphasis in original.) Mission command is defined in U.S. military doctrine as “the conduct of military operations through decentralized execution based upon mission-type orders and commanders acting on intent” where mission-type orders “focus on what needs to be done rather than what to do or how to do it.”
• [13] Those interested in reading more on mission command, to include essays addressing its applications across a broad spectrum of contingencies, might find the following of value: Russell W. Glenn, Trust and Leadership: The Australian Army Approach to Mission Command (Dahlonega, GA: University of North Georgia Press, 2020).
• [14] Regarding British deception operations, see Logan Nye, “That time the British burned down fake cities to fool German bombers,” We are the Mighty, 14 May 2021, https://www.wearethemighty.com/mighty-history/that-time-the-british-burned-down-fake-cities/; Paul Harris, “Operation Starfish: Extraordinary story of Second World War sites designed to look like burning cities which saved 2,500 lives and diverted 730 air raids,” The Daily Mail (1 March 2013), https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2286276/Extraordinary-story-WW2s-Starfish-Sites-designed-look-like-burning-cities-saved-2-500-lives.html; and Colin Dobinson’s excellent book, Fields of Deception: Britain’s Bombing Decoys of World War II (London: Methuen, 2000). For a sample of discussions regarding Ukrainian GPS spoofing and other technological initiatives in support of urban preservation, see Daryna Antoniuk, “Ukrainian military’s anti-drone GPS spoofing spills into civilian’s phones,” The Record (7 November 2024), https://therecord.media/ukraine-anti-drone-gps-spoofing-affects-civilian-mobile-phones; Patrick Tucker, “In Ukraine, a US firm tests a promising tool against GPS jammers: cell phones,” Defense One (30 September 2024), https://www.defenseone.com/technology/2024/09/group-ukraine-testing-newest-weapon-against-gps-jammers-cell-phones/399952/; and Ellie Cook, “Ukraine Found Way to Divert Russian Drones into Neighbor’s Airspace—Report,” Newsweek (28 November 2024), https://www.newsweek.com/ukraine-russia-drones-belarus-spoofing-gps-1992969.
• [15] The Department of Defense (DoD) released its Civilian Harm Mitigation and Response Action Plan in August 2022. The plan created “new institutions and processes that will improve strategic outcomes, optimize military operations, and strengthen DoD’s ability to mitigate civilian harm during operations.” Combatant commands had such teams in place by 2023. A recent paper described these teams as “civilian environment teams (CETs) . . . envisioned to consist of, when at full strength, four individuals at each operational combatant command with others possible at supporting commands.” The benefits of having these teams habitually associated with a staff—in addition to insights civilian members would provide military planners and operators—should include opportunities to expose civilian members to military planning processes and other relevant functions prior to active operations. See DoD, “Civilian Harm Mitigation and Response Action Plan Fact Sheet,” news release, 25 August 2022, https://www.defense.gov/News/Releases/Release/Article/3140007/civilian-harm-mitigation-and-response-action-plan-fact-sheet/; and Lewis et al., “Preparing for Civilian Harm Mitigation and Response in Large-Scale Combat Operations,” 40. More on the subject of assessing risks and mitigating harm during urban operations in particular is available in Sahr Muhammedally, “Understanding Risks and Mitigating Civilian Harm in Urban Operations,” Canadian Army Journal 21-1 (October 2024), https://www.canada.ca/en/army/services/canadian-army-journal/articles/2024/21-1-muhammedally-mitigating-civilian-harm.html.
• [16] These four elements are adapted from points made by counterterrorism expert Brian Jenkins.
• [17] Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, JP 1-02, Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms (Washington, D.C., U.S. Government Printing Office, 8 November 2010 as amended through 15 February 2016), 145. Emphasis added.
• [18] Russell W. Glenn and Ian Sullivan, “From Sacred Cow to Agent of Change: Reconceiving Maneuver in Light of Multi-Domain Battle and Mission Command,” Small Wars Journal, 20 September 2017.