When Saddam Hussein was first transformed from a useful client into an evil dictator, the Western media was eager to call him a new Hitler. More recently, he is thought to be more like Stalin. (Even his mustache is more like Stalin’s than Hitler’s.) This should cause no surprise. Saddam’s regime was not set up in an advanced industrial country like Germany, but in a traditional Arab society which he set out to modernize, secularize and militarize by brute force. Saddam’s Baath Party, which stands for “Renewal”, boasts a heady brand of so-called Arab socialism where extreme nationalism is fused with communist-style party control.

Most importantly, since Saddam’s military and security systems were largely designed by Soviet advisers, the tentacles of the ruling party penetrate into every corner of every state institution, ensuring that embedded political officers give all the orders at all times and at all levels. If this calculation is correct, the generals do not command the army. They defer to political colleagues, who may be dressed up as generals and sit in on staff meetings, but who do not answer to the army command. One may be equally sure that the military/security forces form an elaborate chain of interlocking services where every watchdog organization is itself watched over by another watchdog. The regular army is kept in check by the Revolutionary Guard. The Revolutionary Guard is guarded by a Special Revolutionary Guard. And the Special Revolutionary Guard is run by high-ranking officers from the Security Department, whose agents will oversee every other unit.

In addition, the ruling party will have organized its own armed services. There will be “blocking regiments” to shoot any soldier who thinks of retreating. (There will also be blockers of the blocking regiments.) There will be assorted militias and specialized corps of bodyguards, frontier troops, desert rangers, prison guards, and internal troops, each positioned to crush the least sign of dissent. By now, there must be a specialized corps of suicide bombers.

Washington’s idea that it can swiftly “decapitate” this sort of hydra by removing Saddam, by rounding up the “death squads”, or by replacing a few ministers is unconvincing. In the short term, however, the most urgent question concerns the dictator’s ability to persuade his troops to fight. Some American analysts think that armies ruled by fear will melt away when attacked. One cannot be so sure. Indeed, if Stalin be the model for this war-game, the conclusions must be rather worrying. By 1941, Stalin had already killed many millions of his own subjects. Yet, when the Soviet Union was attacked, the Red Army put up a heroic fight that surpassed all expectations. To the amazement of the German invaders, who had been told they were removing a wicked regime, Soviet troops contested every inch of land, irrespective of losses. Anyone who imagines lack of democracy means lack of fighting spirit needs to think again.

The simple fact is that the soldier defending his native soil will fight better than an invader. But other psychological and cultural factors are at work. On Stalin’s eastern front, for example, observers noted something akin to “the bravado of desperation”. Soldiers who had been maltreated at home, who had seen their relatives tortured or cast into the Gulag, but who were powerless to protest, had nothing to lose. So they charged at the enemy with the Motherland on their lips in the one last act that could restore their pride and dignity.

Of course, when tested, Saddam’s troops may not die willingly. In that case, one might argue that Saddamism, unlike Stalinism, was not brutal enough.

Every army has its own culture, its own corporate ethos. Reports from Iraq increasingly contrast the “softly, softly” approach of the British with the “gung-ho”, “trigger-happy”, “cowboy” stance of many Americans. The contrast may not be entirely fair. We may yet see incidents of “friendly fire” in which Americans are the victims. But perceptions count. And the US war machine seems to suffer from two major defects. Firstly, it appears to have been trained to believe that the safety of its own members is sacrosanct, and hence that anyone outside its own ranks is an enemy. Secondly, it is led by an ideologically driven clique, which is not typical of America and which possesses absolutely everything except self-criticism.

In the long term, especially if the US takes sole charge in Iraq, these attitudes will take their toll. For they ignore another simple fact, namely that cultures are more powerful than constitutions. Bush and Rumsfeld can introduce all the democracy and freedom that they like. But if they do it in ways that offend local sensibilities, they will be wasting their time. My old professor (the late Hugh Seton-Watson), used to talk about “the law of colonial ingratitude”. In its simplest form, the law states that the better the ruler’s intentions, the worse will be their effect.

In the meantime, the Battle for Baghdad has to be won and lost. And historians are being squeezed for precedents. The most popular choice still seems to be Stalingrad, notwithstanding protestations from Antony Beevor that Berlin was the nearer comparison. Radio 4 was nearer the mark yesterday when someone mentioned the more recent battle for Grozny. At all events, one precedent does invite examination. From the political viewpoint, Warsaw in 1944 bears no resemblance to Baghdad in 2003. But as a tactical scenario in which a first-class army was ordered to capture a foreign capital from a greatly inferior force of locals, it gives food for thought.

Poland’s underground army seized central Warsaw in a series of surprise attacks on the evening of Aug. 1, 1944. They numbered some 45,000. They possessed less than one rifle or pistol per person. They were completely surrounded by Panzer divisions, which were preparing to confront the advancing Soviets; and they faced a ferocious SS punitive force backed by tanks, rocket batteries, mine-throwers, giant mortars, field cannon, armored trains and Stuka dive-bombers. They hoped for assistance from the air from their British and American allies. But their aims were modest: to hold out for the two to three days, which they estimated Marshal Rokossovsky would need to storm across the river and relieve them. Their troubles began when the Western allies failed to assist them and the Soviet advance was halted.

The battle for Warsaw is sometimes cited as the classic example of urban guerrilla warfare. The Germans were unable to turn their vast technical superiority to advantage. By shelling the streets and barricades, they created masses of ideal cover for snipers, grenade-throwers and petrol-bombers. By attacking residential districts, they turned most terrified civilians against them. They lost scores of tanks and trucks, and thousands of men, before they abandoned frontal assaults. The desperate defenders, in contrast, stood firm. They were masters of ambush. They seized German weapons and stores. They retreated from positions under overwhelming firepower only to reoccupy them at night. Chronically short of ammunition, they adopted the principle of “one bullet, one German”, and killed twice as many as they wounded. They held out not for two to three days but for 63. The price was paid by the 200,000 civilians killed — 10 times the insurgent casualties. A furious Hitler ordered the rebel city to be totally razed. Unfortunately, the Warsaw Rising does not fit the ever-victorious Allied myth, and is almost forgotten.