Combat Evolved: The Similarities Between Chariot Tactics and Boxing
War. War never changes. And yet it evolves: in fact, much of the technological innovation of humanity has been spurred by the desire to gain a material advantage in killing other groups of humans. War is the horrific coupling of violence and strategy—and while violence is enduring in its grossness, strategy only improves over time, given it has access to the same knowledge base as its forebears.
Chariot warfare and boxing provide clear examples of the sophistication of aggression. While organized warfare goes back to the dawn of history, it was during the Bronze Age that humans produced the first superweapon: the chariot. Thousands of years before the saddle was invented, chariot drivers used a pair of horses to pilot a car of bowmen across the battlefield. Combined with the speed of the horses was the power of the composite bow, devastating to an opposing infantry column equipped at best with simple bows wielding fractions of their counterparts’ range and power.
The speed of the horses, the power of composite bowmen, and the security of the war car enabled chariots to rain arrow fire with impunity upon foot infantry: drawing the enemy in by charging within range, then immediately turning and firing arrows as their opponents attempted to pursue. The advantages of chariot speed and power created a paralyzing effect upon infantry. The role of a foot soldier became relegated to defensively shielding chariot fleets after retreating, since he would be unable to participate competitively. The instant a small number of chariots were exposed to an infantry column, the battle was considered a settled fact.
Chariot warfare became the order of the day. The palaces of the Bronze Age accrued greater and greater fleets of chariots—exponentially more expensive than infantry, but perceived as worth the cost. Chariot fleets ballooned from hundreds to multiple thousands as vassal palaces contributed fleets of their own.
The peak of Bronze Age warfare, and the biggest chariot battle of all time, occurred in 1275 BC at The Battle of Kadesh. The Hittite King Muwutallis brought 3,500 chariots and around 18,000 infantry south into Syria to the city of Kadesh, his largest vassal state, in order to oppose an invading Egyptian army. The Pharoah Ramesses marched his own army 500 miles to meet Muwutallis, and, believing the enemy to be a considerable distance further north of the city, undertook a crossing of the Orontes river in order to cut off the Hittites.
Some 2,500 chariots led by the Pharoah personally rebuffed the Hittite chariots in a total of six charges. No infantry clash occurred. A testament to the single-mindedness of Bronze Age military thought, infantry languished as chariot fleets dominated the world. Chariots are inscribed in posterity as symbols of Biblical military might.
The Parallels With Pugilism
Not unlike the defenseless infantry of the Bronze Age, the style of early boxers languished for centuries as well. Early boxing with bare knuckles, sometimes termed “classical pugilism,” consisted of straight punches with few restrictions and minimal movement. The contenders, unable to perform concussive blows, often utilized wrestling, taking their opponents into holds and gouging eyes. The Progymnasmata, a 1727 wrestling manual, records a style of boxer who combined straight punches and certain wrestling holds called the “Cornish Hugg”; punching in this case was intended for the chest to knock the wind out of an opponent so that they would be easier to wrestle.
Bouts at this time, with ample recovery time and upwards of 50 rounds, were more a test of endurance and willpower than skill. Toughness, not strategy. Punches with leverage, namely uppercuts and hooks, were still unheard of; only in 1804 did the champion “Dutch” Sam Elias invent the uppercut and showcase it in bouts with opponents substantially larger than himself. Boxing abandoned wrestling throws with the 1743 Broughton Rules, and finally the 1867 Marquess of Queensberry rules established boxing matches with three-minute rounds, no punches below the belt, and mandated usage of gloves.
After the introduction of the Queensberry rules, which are universally accepted today, boxing style remade itself anew. Straight punches with full extension had to be developed to stop opponents from stepping too close. The “jab cross,” a straight left followed by a straight right, gained priority. Incapacitating power required new “power” punches in the form of short hooks, crosses, and uppercuts. New maneuvers to deliver these power punches followed, such as ducks, rolls, and “bobbing and weaving.” An athleticism of footwork accompanied bobbing and weaving, so that boxers remained in position for power punches and “caught” opponents after missing. Strategy.
The world champion of this time, the hulking Canadian Jess Willard, standing 6’6” at 245 pounds, embodied the old style of boxing: relying on size, reach, and height for his straight punches and looping hooks, with little footwork or evasion. Such an imposing figure held the world heavyweight title until a sophisticated challenger emerged: Jack Dempsey.
Born in Colorado, Dempsey left home at 16 and fought in bars and small prize fights around the Salt Lake City area, coming to be known as the Manassa Mauler. At times homeless and fighting for prize money, Dempsey traveled across the American West collecting knowledge of different maneuvers and punches. He described this period as fighting just to eat, standing up after going down simply on account of hunger, though he rarely ever lost during these unrecorded bouts.
All the finest points of contemporary pugilism accumulated in a single contender. After winning 15 fights in 1918 with only one loss and one draw, Dempsey qualified for the title fight, standing 6’1”, weighing 187 pounds. By far physically inferior to Willard, Dempsey put the new style to the test.
The mechanics of Dempsey’s style bore a clear resemblance to chariot warfare. Chariots benefited from the relationship between the chariot driver, who guided the draft horses, and the composite bowman, whose arrows could puncture any armor. The ability to utilize distance and effective range against a slower opponent meant chariots could never be caught by infantry. Bobbing and weaving in conjunction with hooks and uppercuts employs a similar intent, placing oneself just outside the opponent’s reach, throwing unanswerable hooks, uppercuts, and crosses with every step. Like the “punching” shots of the composite bow, these hooks and uppercuts could be deadly if they caught an unprepared opponent.
Dempsey termed this approach to boxing “aggressive defense,” in which a boxer’s evasive movements and aggressive punches are so synchronized as to be inseparable. Using these tactics, Dempsey sought to prove a boxer vastly inferior in size could defeat a champion. And he succeeded.
The bout was the fastest heavyweight knockout of its time. Dempsey was notably faster, moving in and out of Willard’s sweeping range, only occasionally grazed himself. Suddenly Dempsey quickened, weaving through Willard’s reach and pummeling his body and face with hooks and uppercuts, each punch tied together with full hip turnover and smooth footwork. Dempsey knocked Willard off his feet five times in the first round, looming over him like a predator.
At the close of the round, everyone thought Dempsey had already won, yet Willard suffered two further rounds of punishment. The fighters became visibly exhausted and were covered in Willard’s blood. By the fourth round Willard could not continue, and the new style, costing the Manassa Mauler a lifetime of suffering to develop, finally prevailed.
Modern Warfare
Bronze Age infantry and early pugilists share a common theme of ineffectiveness waiting to be disrupted. Both boxing and warfare have benefitted from permanent, real-time evolution as victors mastered one aspect of combat and were countered by another. The man to defeat Dempsey, Gene Tunney, outpointed the champion by keeping Dempsey at a distance and relying on the jab to stop his combinations. The champions of the modern era have use even more sophisticated techniques—the Ali Shuffle, the Rope-A-Dope, the Peek-A-Boo, the Philly Shell, as well as myriad psychological techniques in press conferences and walkouts—to break down and batter their opponents.
Chariots, too, were eventually vanquished. Horse-riding calvary, which were far faster and more maneuverable, replaced them. Generals like Darius III attempted to evolve their chariots by attaching scythes to the wheels, but this strategy was definitively countered by Alexander’s infantry at the Battle of Gaugemala in 331 BC. Alexander’s infantry opened up gaps in their formation into which the horses rushed, then surrounded and killed the horses and chariots. This was the end of chariot warfare in antiquity.
So many eras of warfare have since passed that it would be impossible to name them all. Guns replaced bows. Tanks replaced cavalry. The Russia-Ukraine war has demonstrated the clear need for evolved cyber, satellite, and strategic capabilities. However, nuclear warfare represents the apotheosis of strategic warfare. A nuclear war would rely little on the willpower and resolve of its people; it would be decided by an analysis of which governmental, military, and civilian sites to obliterate first. The “toughness” element is all but removed, save for the mind games played between leaders.
In boxing and other sports, a healthy combination of both toughness and strategy can still be observed—without the disastrous effects of a war between nations. The evolution of combat is glorious, often genius, and utterly devastating. Strategists would do well to keep this in mind.
