The Case for Military History at Harvard

Harvard has produced more commanders in chief than any other university and trains future foreign policy elite — yet the College fails to have an explicit military history program.

It’s a bad time to be caught so empty-handed — Harvard’s relationship with the Pentagon has been put under strain following the agency’s decision to sever ties. Pile on federal funding cuts and continuous political pressure, and the prospect of military scholarship at Harvard is increasingly imperiled. As the world continues to be plagued by active conflict — and the United States plunges itself into a war with Iran — the Harvard classroom can no longer be insulated from an entire mode of inquiry. A formal military history program is the first step.

Some of Harvard’s peer institutions have already recognized this gap. Take Yale for example. Yale’s history department offers a “War and Society” track, enabling students to understand the intricacies of how and why nations fight. To complete their degree, students on this “pathway” are required to take five courses.

This is something Harvard should look to bring home — not despite our strained relations with the Department of Defense, but because of them. While one can find a course here and there, such as the History department’s tutorial, History 97O: “What is Military History?”, a few courses is not a dedicated academic pathway.

Instead, a specialized history track or new secondary could build on existing offerings. Without it, Harvard risks leaving a core driver of history understudied.

The academic case for a military history program is strong. War is one of the leading drivers of both political and economic change, and yet Harvard lacks the space to systematically study it. War is a critical field in social science, and its absence from campus leaves a major gap in how students might understand state formation, institutional change, and global power.

Not to mention, ceding military history to professional military schools carries a burdensome cost: allowing the rigorous study of war to be further separated from the people meant to determine policy, and thus opening a chasm between the civilian minds that deliberate and contextualize war and the military that acts on it. Harvard could bridge that chasm.

It also cannot be ignored that Harvard’s engagement with the American military is rich. Whether the Reserve Officer Training Corps program, rising veteran enrollment, or fellowships at the Kennedy School, Harvard already maintains a vast network of informal ties to the military world. A dedicated program in military history would realize that connection in the undergraduate classroom — bringing longstanding engagement to dedicated scholarship.

Like Rome, a full program could not be built overnight. Between budget pressures and institutional will, military history at Harvard has substantial obstacles to overcome.

But there’s not a moment in recent memory where the investment has been so important. The country is actively navigating hot and cold conflicts in the Middle East, Latin America, and East Asia, putting the foreign policy establishment under immense pressure. A university attuned to war, with scholars dedicated to its rigorous study, and students keen to learn from them, is what Harvard now lacks — and precisely what this moment demands.

Harvard would gain more than just an academic department or curricula addition. After the University has spent years weathering the pressures of public scrutiny, a military program would act as a signal to the nation that Harvard respects our military’s importance in shaping political and economic life, and that it is willing to engage seriously with the realities that power, conflict, and national security bring in the modern world.

This would mark a serious beginning to the study of war at the University — a field often overlooked until the United States itself becomes part of the geopolitical conflict. Beyond filling an academic gap, such a program would create a jumping off point for the University to engage in the ever-evolving nature of warfare — from cyber conflict and artificial intelligence to new forms of intervention made possible by technological change.

The answer to political pressure should be intellectual expansion. For Harvard to maintain its academic independence, it must be proactive.

At a moment when national security is increasingly shaped by innovation and information, Harvard should no longer remain on the sidelines.

Ava M. Ribaudo ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Government concentrator in Leverett House.