"Sera Maitre du Monde, qui sera Maitre de l'Air": La Creation de l'Aviation Militaire Francaise (review)

Claude Carlier's new book adds considerably to our understanding of aviation and the French military before World War I. The author of a dozen books on air forces and technology, he argues persuasively that historians have focused too long on the negative aspects of the development of airpower and have unfairly criticized the military for having failed to recognize the potential of the new technology. He observes, "It is time to stop thinking that airmen were victims of the obtuseness of political authorities and military leaders" (p. 8). His well-documented and clearly argued analysis demonstrates that the French were not blind to the potential of airpower before 1914 and that they pursued the "third dimension" with energy and enthusiasm.

Carlier's book is not a chauvinist effort to give the French credit for the early development of airpower. Yet, he begins by describing the efforts at the end of the eighteenth century to make "aerial voyages" and notes that a French infantry major took part in the first aerial flight on 21 November 1783. He also notes the success of a French engineer, Clément Ader, in building a flying machine and launching it into the air for fifty meters on 9 October 1890. This small success attracted the attention of Charles de Freycinet, the first civilian minister of war, and money soon came flowing from the army for further development. Despite this early triumph, the efforts of Ferdinand Ferber, Léon Levavasseur, and others failed to yield success, and on 17 December 1903, the two American brothers, Orville and Wilbur Wright, made the first flight in a heavier-than-air plane. For the next several years the French communicated frequently with the Wright brothers in an attempt to buy a plane from them, but bickering among bureaucrats and debates about the merits of dirigibles and airplanes soon derailed the discussions.

By 1909 the French had flown across the English Channel and created a fledgling air force. During the autumn maneuvers of 1910 the opposing forces each had six airplanes, and the formal report on those exercises emphasized the importance of "maintaining the considerable advantages that France has over other nations" (p. 188). Despite this success no less an authority than Ferdinand Foch, the commandant of the École Supérieure de Guerre, dismissed aviation as "sport" and having "zero" potential (p. 189). The autumn maneuvers in the following year, however, once again included airplanes and the formal report noted that the aircraft had done everything expected of them. That report also called for the development of an aerial fighting capability, aerial "projectiles" for destroying and demoralizing ground troops, and wireless communication (p. 211). In February 1912 André and Édouard Michelin published a pamphlet entitled "Our future is in the air" (p. 226). Though the autumn maneuvers that year included 48 airplanes, officers such as Colonel Jean Baptiste Estienne, who would soon develop the tank in France, warned of "exaggerated hopes" similar to the expectations for the machinegun in 1870 (p. 247). By August 1914 the French had 138 airplanes (nine different models) divided into twenty-three squadrons.

Carlier's story of the development of French aviation thus tells us much about the complicated process that involved a fascinating mixture of inventors, military leaders, and politicians. By August 1914, he notes, French military leaders knew that having airplanes did not guarantee victory but that not having airplanes guaranteed defeat.