Winning Diplomacy
2021 - 2022
Ben James
In the board game Diplomacy, players lead one of seven Great Powers and battle their rivals for the title Master of Europe. Allan Calhamer created the game in 1954 and commercially published it in 1959. Calhamer’s game differs from most others. It features no dice nor any other form of randomness (save that introduced by human foibles). It takes time; traditional formats consume five or more hours. It is also a communicative game. Players spend those hours bargaining with, pleading with, and lying to other players.
Finally, Diplomacy is unique in that most games end in a draw.[1] Occasional winners experience a rare elation. The more numerous defeated may suffer deeper alienation, especially given that defeat commonly results from unapologetic, even spiteful betrayals by other players. These emotionally-high stakes led Grantland to describe Diplomacy as “The Board Game of the Alpha Nerds” in a 2014 article.[2]
Perhaps because of these particularities Diplomacy has enjoyed a small but consistent following over the last sixty years. In that time players produced thousands of pages and uncountable hours of media on Diplomacy strategy and tactics. Where to start, and how to make sense of the deluge? In your author’s opinion, the single best piece of Diplomacy writing remains The Game of Diplomacy by Richard Sharp, first published in 1978. If you are new to this game, read it.[3]
A reader of that work will notice a few oddities relative to what they may know of Diplomacy today. First, Sharp focuses on postal diplomacy (yes, players would handwrite letters to their rivals and eagerly wait days for reply). Second, Sharp is merciless. Diplomacy, he says, “is not a nice game.” He encourages players to “find an ally who will die for you and see that he does just that.” Sharp’s readers understand that he plays to win.
Today, winning Diplomacy feels almost unfashionable.[4] Online, point and ranking systems reward drawing. Players everywhere commonly espouse the belief that “solos require others to make mistakes,” an unfalsifiable statement that discourages newcomers from trying. Partially due to COVID-19, a raft of new players entered the Diplomacy hobby and were taught how to do well in time-limited tournament games, but not how to clinch a solo.
The primary purpose of this work[5] is to explain how to play Diplomacy, and to update Sharp’s work for what has occurred over the last 40-plus years. More specifically, this work encourages readers to try to win Diplomacy games, and aims however imperfectly to arm them with means of doing so.
When possible, I have footnoted sources. Some statements and data reflect my estimates, which may be relied on (or not) to the extent the reader wishes. Debts are owed to all my past opponents whose insights were stolen for these pages.
Several people provided comments on this draft, for which I am grateful.
You are reading a work in progress. It may change. Pardon the dust.
Finally, there are many ways to play this game. If you listen to me, your mileage may vary.
Failed Ambition: When to Draw 35
Chapter 3: Diplomacy in “Diplomacy” 38
Chapter 4: Dying a Good Death 46
Diplomacy is played in stylized 1901 Europe. An image lifted from a popular online platform (Backstabbr.com) appears below. At game start, there are seven Great Powers: England, France, Germany, Italy, Austria, Turkey, and Russia. Each starts with three units, save Russia, which begins with four. These units may be armies (represented here by circles) or fleets (triangles).
Seventy five distinct spaces comprise the board. A maximum of one unit may occupy a space at a time. Nineteen spaces are sea, the remaining fifty-six land.
Of those fifty-six land spaces, thirty-four are “supply centers” denoted by a dot. In game parlance, they are referred to as “dots.” Each “dot” supports one unit (a fleet or an army). A player may have only as many fleets and armies (total) as they have dots. A player controlling half-plus-one, or eighteen dots, is the Master of Europe and the victor of the game.
The game begins in Spring 1901. During each Spring turn (also called a season or a campaign) players discuss, then submit orders. These orders are submitted in secret and resolved simultaneously. Players are under no obligation to keep the promises they make.
When orders are resolved, some fleets or armies may be defeated (displaced) and required to retreat. These retreats are submitted and resolved, often without additional negotiation.
After Spring 1901 retreats comes the Fall 1901 campaign (Calhamer apparently did not enjoy summer). The Fall campaign resolves in the same manner as the Spring campaign: players negotiate, then submit orders, which are resolved simultaneously, and are followed by retreats.
Naturally, Winter succeeds Fall. In Winter, players may build new units, if they control more supply centers than they have units. Control of a supply center is not “official” till Winter (a player with armies occupying eighteen centers at the end of the Spring campaign is not the victor; they must retain control when Fall ends and Winter begins to win).
Once the Winter season builds are revealed, a new Spring and a new game year (1902, assuming Winter 1901 just concluded) begin. In traditional Diplomacy, the game may continue an unlimited number of years. Most games will resolve in ten or fewer years. A solo victory usually takes 10 to 12 years.[6]
During the Fall and Spring turns, players may give a maximum of one command to each unit. Units without instructions will hold in place. A unit may not receive two orders (for example, a fleet may not both move and convoy). All orders resolve simultaneously after the negotiation period ends.
Each unit is exactly as strong as every other unit. So, if two units advance to the same space (see PAR and MUN moving to BUR at left, or ROM and TRI moving to VEN), neither advances. Players refer to this as a “bounce.”
The concept of “bouncing” (synonymous with “standoff” in Diplomacy writing) informs the rule that units may not change places; if Army Gascony (denoted in Diplomacy writing as A GAS) moves to Spain (denoted A GAS → SPA) and Fleet Spain North Coast moves to Gascony (F SPA(NC) → GAS), a bounce occurs (nothing happens), even if the units are friendly (even if owned by the same player). An exception occurs if one of the moving units is convoyed (they then both move without directly bypassing each other).
A further note: you cannot dislodge yourself. IE, you may not move into a region you already occupy, even if you do so with support, even if the occupying unit attempted (but apparently failed) to get out of the way.
Of course, the army must be located on and traveling to coastal spaces adjacent to the fleet(s). When it moves, it does so with only its own force (one unit); the fleet does not add to the army’s strength. In the example above, the English convoy to Norway succeeds. The Russian convoy is bounced by the German move to Sweden.
Multiple fleets may “chain” together to convoy an army across multiple seas in a single move.
Last, a convoy may succeed even if the convoying fleet is attacked. Attacks against a convoy only thwart the convoy if the convoying fleet is disrupted (forced to retreat). If several fleets are forming a “chain” to move an army multiple spaces, the whole operation fails if one fleet is dislodged.
3. Hold: the simplest order. Units remain in place during the season. They will neither attack nor move nor support. If a player fails to submit orders, a “hold” is assumed.
4. Support: The most complex order. Recall that units in diplomacy are all of equivalent strength. How does anything happen? The answer is that units may be “supported” by nearby units. The supporting unit need not be from the supported unit’s Power (trading supports with an ally/rival is a common thing to negotiate for).
In the example to the left below, GAL supports PRU to WAR (note this example features cooperation between players; Austria helps Germany at Russia’s expense). GAL may help because it is adjacent to the destination of support, even though it is not adjacent to the origin of the moving unit. This illustrates a key rule: support may be given to any region that the supporting unit could itself move to.
The central image is more complex: Austria again supports Germany, but this time, Russia’s army in Ukraine supports Warsaw to hold. The point: support may be given to hold (defend) same as it may be given to move (attack). What happens here? The attack and defense strength are the same, so defenders win (the attack bounces; nothing happens).
Finally, the right image illustrates what happens when a supporting unit is attacked: the support is “cut.” In other words, the supporting unit is forced to defend itself and offers no help. So, in this example, PRU receives no help from GAL, as GAL must defend against UKR, and PRU is again unable to dislodge WAR.
What happens if two units move to the same region, and each unit is supported by a valid and uncut support? Since attack strength is the same on each side, neither prevails (it is the same as if each unit had moved without support: there is a bounce). The attacked province is undisturbed, even if it is occupied by a weaker third party.
Note that a unit may both receive support and offer it; for example, it may receive “support to hold” (defend) while offering support to another unit to either hold or move.
Experienced players commonly mess up support interactions; a new player should expect to get better with practice. More tactical information appears in Chapter Two of this piece. For now, review one last example summarizing support rules.
In this image, Austria faces assault. TRI is attacked by SER supported by ALB (attack strength two). It is also attacked by TYR supported by VEN (attack strength two). The overwhelmed Austrian attempts to support TRI with BUD (BUD supports TRI to hold). Unfortunately, Russia intervenes: BUD’s support is cut and is no longer relevant. What happens? Austria lives! Even though TRI’s defensive strength is below both Italy and Turkey’s attack strength, Italy and Turkey have bounced each other out. This the "beleaguered garrison” rule.
Note that Germany’s attack on TYR does not help Austria, because TYR is the moving unit for Italy. An advanced player, choosing between one of several units to attack with (the rest to support) may make the moving unit the one that would otherwise be attacked (and thus fail to offer support).
At the conclusion of each Spring and Fall turn any units which were defeated (were dislodged by attack strength greater than their own strength plus any valid and uninterrupted supports) may retreat. Players owning dislodged units again write down orders in secret; all retreats then resolve simultaneously.
Several rules apply. First, a unit may only retreat to an unoccupied adjacent territory. Second, if two units attempt to retreat to the same province (image below) both are destroyed. Third, if a unit has no vacant space to retreat to, it is automatically destroyed. Next, a player may choose not to retreat (may choose to “disband”). A player might choose to do this if they expect to build at year-end and want to get rid of a unit so that it may be rebuilt at home (a change of location), or if they wish to rebuild it as a different type (change from fleet to army or vice-versa).
Note that a retreating unit may move into a vacant, adjacent supply center and capture it.
During the Winter season (immediately after Fall retreats) players controlling more supply centers than they have units may build additional units until units controlled = supply centers controlled. Similarly, players who have lost centers must disband units until their unit count equals their center count.
Note that centers are only controlled if they were a) controlled the previous winter or b) occupied at the close of Fall retreats. A unit that captures a center in Spring and moves out in Fall does not establish control; the unit must remain there at the close of the Fall season.
Units may only be built in “home” centers (the centers a player starts with). If these are occupied, a player may not build. It is not uncommon for a player gaining several centers in a year to fail to build units up to their center count, because home centers are occupied and unavailable for builds.
Inland centers may only build armies. Coastal centers may build armies or fleets.
A player does not have to build; they may refrain even if they have excess centers (“waive” or “defer” the build in game parlance).
All builds are resolved simultaneously.
Special rules apply to three spaces: Spain, St. Petersburg, and Bulgaria. These spaces have multiple coasts; a fleet moving to either must specify which.
All the prior rules apply, and are enough to resolve any coast question that may come up. Can a unit move to a specific coast? Only if adjacent. Can a unit support a territory with a coast, even if the supported unit is on the wrong coast (is not adjacent)? Yes, as long as the supporting unit could move to any portion of the supported province. Can a unit on a specific coast support an adjacent region? Maybe; depends on if the unit could move to the region to be supported. Remember, support may be given to any region the supporting unit could move to.
For example: say a fleet is in RUM and another is in Bulgaria South Coast. The fleet in RUM can support the Bulgaria-South fleet, because the fleet in RUM can move to BUL. That’s all that’s required; it does not matter that Rum is not adjacent to BUL SC specifically, only that it is adjacent to BUL. But, the fleet in Bul SC cannot support the fleet in Rum, because it cannot move to RUM.
Similarly, an army in Norway can support a fleet in St Petersburg South Coast, but the reverse is not true.
Note that Kiel, Denmark, Sweden and Constantinople do not have coasts per se but fleets stationed in them may move to any adjacent sea.
“Press” is the game-term for communications between players. Most games regulate press. A player must pay attention to the specifics of a game before it starts to know what to expect.
The original rulebook allowed for press during Spring and Fall campaigns only; retreats and builds were silent (no negotiation occurred between players; all players in these rulebook press games make retreat and build decisions without the benefit of discussion).
Other games allow press during retreats and builds. These “regular” press games are more common today. Both “regular” and “rulebook” press are considered “full press games” and are the subject of this piece.
Many players enjoy playing Diplomacy without press; these “gunboat” games do not allow communication (save that imparted by signaling between players via their orders). Gunboat is mostly outside the scope of this writing.
The original Diplomacy rulebook did not account for every tactical situation and for ten years the hobby relied on the intuition or preferences of individual game masters, typically administrators of play-by-mail magazines, to fill the gaps. In 1971 a rulebook revision clarified many disputes; some more notable rules appear below.[7]
Koning’s Rule
How does this work? Does Apulia cut Constantinople’s support for Smyrna to Aegean? Or do Smyrna and Constantinople break the convoy? Brannan’s Rule clarifies that the convoy breaks.[8]
Winning Diplomacy is hard. As we’ve discussed, older statistics suggest that half of games end in a solo win but those games often featured NMRs (gamespeak for “no moves received”) resulting in the “civil disorder” of a player (ejection from the game). A player in civil disorder does not move, and this anomaly invariably favors one power or another. An ad-hoc survey of recent online press games suggests modern solo-win rates for competitive online press (featuring minimal NMRs) near 30%.
What does this mean? Your expected odds of victory are just over 4% (30% / 7 = 4%), if you sign up for a new game. You will win one in twenty five games, and play sixteen games before your first victory, if you are statistically average. You may not (yet) be average, if you are a new player reading this book, so it may take longer. Rough sledding.
That said, the rarity of the prize makes it worth striving for. Soloing in Diplomacy may be the most elusive and triumphant an accomplishment table-top gaming has to offer. While the odds may be long, competitive press players can achieve solo winrates between 10%-15%, and the most dangerous may see 25% or better.
If the globe’s best win 25% of their matches, a corollary exists: they are not winning 75% of the time. They might draw most of those non-victories, but even the best spends meaningful time going down gallantly. You will too.
In fact, if you play to win Diplomacy games, you must accept that you will lose more games than you otherwise would.
Why? Because in every competitive Diplomacy game multiple players face draw-forcing choices. These are decisions, made passively or actively, that nudge the match toward a draw pattern. An element of risk exists whenever a player declines a draw-forcing choice. Analogizing to finance, risk may not always change expected value, but always introduces variance, a rough-and-tumble space where a player may break out into a solo run or go to their grave.
You might win Diplomacy games through sheer luck or randomness, but your odds increase if you resist draw-forcing choices and take risks. When you do, you are accepting the possibility that things won’t work out: that you will die, that your risk taking will allow someone else to solo, or that you will wind up taking a worse draw than the one you were in line for.
This line of thinking breaks with much of Diplomacy’s cognoscenti, who opine that solo wins are the product solely of error by others. If a near-solo presents itself to them, they’ll stir themselves for the final lap, but most of them do not begin the game with the firm belief that their victory represents a reasonably-plausible outcome they should attempt to execute on from turn one.
Instead, each of these players hopes to pick up a few centers, find an ally, cut out the unfortunate non-allied party on their half of the map, and conclude in a three or four-way draw in 1908 once all survivors meet in the middle. I do not mean to suggest these players are bad; they are sophisticated. They will exchange dozens of pages of carefully-negotiated terms meant to preclude any possibility of a stab, and execute their strategy with a tactical finesse on level with what’s described in pages below. But, they don’t take risks and they might make fun of you if you do. They’ll often prioritize blocking the possibility of other solos over their own shot; they default to draw-forcing choices.
Contrast them with new players online, or with the face-to-face games among college buddies I recall from days of yore. New players may display an uncouth desire to want to win, because that’s an intuitive goal their betters haven’t yet coached out of them. They surprise with unconventional play. They take risks. As a product of those risks, someone often wins, and everyone else loses.
If you want to win Diplomacy games, you may fare better if you rebelliously hold on to the brash ambition of a new player. Take risks. Swing at the fat pitch, or any pitch at all. Ask, each turn, “what do I need to do to win this game?” Resist draw-forcing choices, unless you’ve been led to the last ditch and your odds of winning have truly hit zero. Don’t worry too much about the possibility of loss or elimination, and don’t worry if others make fun of you should you try and fail.
Later on, we’ll attempt to illustrate mid-game draw-forcing choices and the outcomes to each option. The pages between now and then mean to enable you to execute on the choices you make.
New players need not spend much time around Diplomacy before hearing opaque references to “stalemate lines.” These are what they sound like: positions that, if correctly established, create an impenetrable line across the board. There are many possible stalemate lines. Some require a precise set of units and a precise set of orders to hold.
There are plenty of stalemate lines that can durably hold thirteen, fourteen, fifteen centers… but that’s only helpful if you are a strong player or alliance attempting to lock-in survival (something you’ve likely already guaranteed). The most important stalemate lines are those that can hold seventeen or (if jointly held by an alliance) more centers. These can stop a solo run at the precipice. If you are attempting to solo, your odds of victory are much higher if you cross the relevant line far in advance. Similarly, if facing a solo push, working with allies to form a 17-center stalemate line can earn you a draw over defeat.
What happens if a stalemate line forms? Typically players agree to draw; no one has reason to leave the line. If not, a moderator for the venue may declare a draw after the leading player repeatedly fails to breach the line. If you want to learn more about stalemate lines; consider[9] these[10] resources.[11] We’ll cover the most important now.
The red line above depicts what most players reference whenever they say “the stalemate line.” That phrase misleads slightly; it’s not so much a stalemate line as a divider around which many different stalemate positions tend to form.[12] This “divider” is the no-man’s land (centerless spaces) running from Livonia in the Northeast to Piedmont, and across the seas, to Tunis in the Southwest. Note that there are seventeen centers on either side of the dividing line.
What’s the takeaway? To solo, you must secure a center across the line. I.e., you must take everything on your side, plus one center on the other side, to win. Obviously two across the line can help if you fail to secure all of your own side, but in most games, a player dominating one half of the board stands a decent chance of picking up the entirety of her side of the line. So, the critical piece becomes the center across the way, and a good player planning to solo will prioritize and make sacrifices (pay opportunity costs) to get across the line early. Wait till you’re at sixteen centers and the door will likely be slammed shut by your rivals.
Notice also the starting positions of each power relative to the line: one (Russia) begins athwart it, others (France, Germany, Austria, Italy) border it, still others (Turkey, England) are far away. If you want to solo as any power, you must lock down positions across the line, but if you are far from it (say, are England or Turkey) getting across the stalemate line is a race against time you must start on early if you want to win.
Since the main stalemate line is not a precise stalemate position, but rather the area that sees stalemates form, variations exist. For example, the northwest side may lose Berlin to the southeast side but force a 17-17 stalemate by holding Tunis (with supports in WMED and NAF).
In most games, the main stalemate line is the only one that matters, if any do, but occasionally a game can be forced into a draw by stalemate positions running North to South. These positions primarily impact France and Russia, each of which pushes laterally from the East or West edge to center. If you are playing to win as France or Russia, try to stop rival positions from forming on these lines (try to hold these positions if you face a French/Russian solo push). Some examples appear below. Most can be avoided by taking Munich + some piece of Scandinavia.
Players usually agree to draws before firm stalemate positions form. But, it helps to know how to build one if you wish to evade them.
If your side controls seventeen centers, you have more than enough units to form a line. The easier North requires just thirteen. One possible line: POR S MAO, GAS S SPA, BUR S MAR, KIE RUH S MUN, BAL S BER, and one of BOT/FIN/NOR S STP). The harder South usually takes fifteen. One possible line: ION S TUN, ROM S TYS, VEN S TUS, TRI S TYR, VIE S BOH, GAL and UKR S WAR, SEV S MOS. There are many variations.
In any case, a line takes 1) control of centers from edge-to-edge, and 2) durable control of sufficient non-center spaces to provide sufficient support to each center such that it cannot fall. By “durable control” in the preceding sentence, I mean, the non-center space that provides support must itself be insulated from attack. It is no good to form a line meant to hold the South that depends on Livonia, for example. The North can take Livonia with BOT BAL STP and PRU. While many possible scenarios exist, recall that X centers can usually be held with Y units, Y < X. If your alliance decides to form a stalemate line, you most likely can if you plan carefully.
Sometimes a side may lack the unit types needed to form a line, or may have units stranded far out of position. These cases are ripe for a solo, but plausibly, a stable if shifting equilibrium may still exist dynamically, e.g. sides may trade non-center spaces or otherwise see movement without actually getting to 18.
Complications that make stalemate lines more difficult (and may allow you to defeat your rivals' efforts to form one) include “floater” units behind enemy lines (if a single unit of yours, or a helpful spoiler friend’s, exists behind the line, it may break) and deconsolidated participants. By that, I mean, it is easier for one or two powers to hold a 17-center line than three or four, because when more participants are required, the possibility of error in orders increases, and the possibility that players will hedge against their friends or hold units back or refuse to allow a necessary unit through their territory also increases.
All right: you need a center across a stalemate line to win. How does that work in practice? A move from our previous level of generality (“get across the line”) towards a concrete objective (“get to X center”) may help focus your thinking during the game. These are typical win conditions for each power (the below plus each power’s home half of the main stalemate line).[13]
Russia breaks the rules; you start across the main stalemate line and need to prevent a stalemate from forming North-South. The most common Russian solo is the entire South minus Italy (three home centers and Tunis). That yields thirteen centers. Then Russia needs five from the North, typically all of Scandinavia (DEN, NOR, SWE) and two centers out of Germany (MUN and BER, most likely) or some out of England (less likely).
Regardless of which country you play, your odds of getting win-condition centers increase if the strongest power on the other side of the map does not hold the centers you need to win. To the extent you can manipulate events across the board in a fashion that pins down the power holding what you covet, your chances improve. Ideally this unfortunate player survives, as a weakling. it’s easier to take from someone already pressured than someone who might plausibly be pushing for their own solo. A weakling holding your crown jewel might also just give it to you to spite their oppressors if you are friendly enough.
It also helps to secure your “18th center” when you are far from 18. Why? Once you crack double digits, smart opponents will think more seriously about how to thwart you. A France at 10 centers with Tunis may have a better shot than a France at 12 without. Likewise, Germany at 10 with Warsaw may have a better chance than a Germany at 12 who has ignored Russia.
There’s a harsh derivative of this talk that you’ve likely already thought of: if you are to take everything on your side plus something across the line, then everyone else on your side must die. How do you square that with the need to build productive relationships in the game? How does your early game ally die?
We’ll talk more about Diplomacy later, but a few words here. First, be sincere in building your early partnerships. But don’t be subservient, and don’t view an alliance as a marriage. To the extent possible, avoid too much negotiation on anti-stab measures. Don’t agree to split growth evenly. Try to make an earnest commitment to a shared objective that just so happens to funnel you to faster growth.
Next, try to cultivate friends on the other side of the line. Might one of them attack whoever you are fighting? That frees you up for a stab. Or, might one of them attack your ally, and do your work for you?
Last, to the degree possible, be cordial with your enemies. If you keep things frank and don’t lie to them every turn, you might be able to pivot later.
How should a player assess the relative strength of rivals in a game? The dot count offers a barometer. I think that’s fair enough, usually, but let’s add some gloss. When assessing the chances of your leading rivals, consider their relationships with neighbors, and their positioning. Who appears likely to make gains? Who has a surfeit of friends, and who has too many enemies? Have any of them crossed the stalemate line? You might find yourself reordering the places assigned to the top few players after accounting for these variables.
Finally, recognize that dots held by edge or corner powers provide more relative strength than dots held by a central power. Because players on the edge do not need to guard all their borders, they are free to act offensively with more of their units. The more central a player’s position, the harder it is to maintain everything. Usually, Germany at six builds is weaker than Austria at six builds, who is weaker than England at six, who is weaker than Turkey at six.
That said, the solace for central powers is that they can expand in multiple directions: a Germany at six builds isn’t terribly secure, but if no one kills them they might snowball. The Turkish player at six might already be impossible to eradicate but their expansion is constrained by geography.
Presume for a moment that 1901 and 1902 worked out. Your chosen opening netted a few builds. You have an ally you get on well with, and a woebegone foe with one foot in the grave. You have nearly as many centers as the board leader, or lead yourself.
What now?
I can only speculate as to what goes on in the heads of other people, but if you’re anything like me when I started playing, you’ll face a sense of pressure created by the conflicting, dangerous demands placed on you by your rivals and by positioning on the board. In face of that, like a backpacker on his twelfth mile of the day, forty pounds on your back, you might focus on putting one foot in front of the other: get one center, then the next, constantly thinking of when and where your next meal is and how to get it.
That’s a fine way to play. Step by step, this center, then that. Execute well and you might top the board and just might solo. But if you want to solo more games, there are other objectives to balance in addition to growth, the natural ambition we’ve just described.
We talked also about one of those other objectives, getting across the line. I won’t belabor the point, other than to say, when you’re walking step-by-step towards your next center, hopefully it's a center that leads closer to the stalemate line, not away from it. This is especially true if you are playing a corner power; you might not have the luxury of time when it comes to making progress towards the line.
A third objective requires you to avoid board consolidation. What does that mean? Keep your rivals alive.
Huh? Isn’t the goal to kill them?
Kind of, not really. A hard part of “mid-game” diplomacy (the phase of a match loosely defined as the period that begins when someone dies, or after opening skullduggery finishes and alliances have declared themselves) is balancing growth, the foot-by-foot progress of our exhausted hiker, against the need to foment conditions ripe for a solo should you manage to muscle up enough strength to play for one.
Those conditions are better if more players live. Maybe this seems intuitive: you are a wolf approaching townsfolk, an enemy at the gate. Do you want them to embrace “united we stand” in their efforts against you? That’s bad news. The more of them alive, the more internal division they will collectively possess. The slower and less coordinated their reactions. The higher the odds of someone favoring you, or playing selfishly for survival in a manner that enables you.
I was convinced of this before writing, but sought data to verify. Here’s a summary of over 125 solo victories in press games on a major site, between 2019-2021. Nearly 80% of solo wins finished with four players still alive, and nearly half had five-plus. In a negligible percentage, someone stabbed for a win after an apparent agreement to go 17-17 (the two survivors case).
Since a soloist must get to 18, and must kill or at least take the home centers of two immediate neighbors, the implication is that on most solo boards, the soloist prevents player elimination outside of those unfortunate enough to start next to him or her.
Only 20% of solos concluded on a three-player board. I would hazard a guess that fourth and fifth players on many of those boards affected the outcome, even if they didn’t live to see it. The point? It’s exceedingly difficult to solo once the board narrows. Your less numerous rivals will coordinate better and probably like each other more, given that they presumably cooperated to see off the departed. So your choices, after you emerge from 1901/02 intact, will ideally avoid promoting consolidation.
Data: WebDiplomacy press solo victories Nov 2019 thru Nov 2021, rulebook and regular press, classic map, all scoring, 70% RR. ~130 games in sample.
What does that mean in practice? It means you might sometimes forgo opportunities for growth in order to keep the board from ossifying.
Consider an example: you’re France. Germany’s on the ropes versus Russia, who invites you to come get your share.
A lot of people say yes to this; after all, a dot’s a dot, and Germany must go down eventually for France to win, and better you get a piece of him before others take all the spoils. Germany can’t possibly defend against you given the onslaught from Russia; your gains are nearly free.
Maybe the right play is to take the low-hanging fruit. You do have to grow steadily, and there’s a tempo to Diplomacy games a soloist is pressed to meet. But what happens if Germany dies now (rather than later)? Well, for one, the board is down a player. See chart above. Next, while you might get a dot or two, Russia will quickly get several, possibly MUN or BER or pieces of Scandinavia (crossing the main and north-south lines).
You would also be forgoing an opportunity to pursue essential, if harder, tasks while others are distracted. These include finishing off England (if they’re not already dead in our scenario) or swiping Tunis from Italy.
Sometimes consolidation is unavoidable; if a player is incompetent or has disengaged and won’t respond to press, then they may have fallen beyond help. But if they’re still engaged and write intelligently, consider what it means if they survive: someone committed to holding down your main cross-board rival (Russia, here), who may show you both gratitude and trust (after all, you didn’t kill them, and they’ll know it), and who won’t interfere with your own efforts to cross the line. If you put down this player, will those who outlive them be so solicitous?
And, what will third parties do? Consider the derivative effects of your choices: the impact your decisions have on surviving third parties elsewhere on the board. If you have trouble discerning this outright, go one by one through each of them and consider your choices from their perspective. How might their behaviors change in reaction to you?
In our example, if you empower Russia by jointly steamrolling his opponent Germany, the odds of some imbroglio materializing on the far side of the board (imbroglios on the far side of the board being exactly what you want) materially decline, because the others on that side will seek to ally the strong player and pray for draw rather than stab him or pursue their own solo chances. Whoever’s alive between I/A/T becomes more likely to play for draw in partnership with Russia (further empowering him), than they are to take the dubious risk of fighting a stronger player flush with new armies that you just handed to him.
The move to take easy pickings off Germany nudges the game closer to a draw (is a draw-forcing choice). But if Russia bogs down against Germany, anything can happen.
The parable above fails to capture every subtlety in a real game. It only emphasizes the three goals of a player entering and through the midgame: get stronger (grow), get across the line, and shape the board (keep it deconsolidated) such that the game remains winnable.
Hopefully you’ll get to build some units while you pursue these objectives. What to build?
First, recognize that builds are destiny; each build choice irrevocably deletes a branch from the tree of your possible choices, and brings into firmament some other branch. If Turkey builds fleet SMY, the fleet likely moves against Italy. If Russia builds fleet STP(SC), it goes to Germany. Austrian fleet TRI likely moves against Italy, sooner or later. A single French army build might signal nothing, but double armies suggest a move on Germany.
So a great deal of a Diplomacy match happens in builds (when, at least in rulebook press, you may not negotiate!). The campaign seasons effect what the builds already willed. This makes it important to negotiate with allies in advance over builds. It also makes builds an important signal mechanism: a player’s intent is revealed by builds, both to his immediate neighbors but also to third parties far across the board. An advanced player may spend time studying the build choices of all six rivals at the end of each year.
Of course, exceptions exist to every rule. Maybe that Austrian fleet in TRI will just snake through coastal ports to Turkey. Maybe France built all those armies purely as a defensive hedge, or means to convoy to England.
I’d encourage you not to think up too many excuses when interpreting builds; apply occam’s razor: the simplest explanation is correct. In that vein: when I say builds are destiny, the statement isn’t made in reference to the immediate intent of whoever built them. Players are human and might make a build decision for a dozen reasons, some benign.
Rather, think long term: over the balance of the game, whatever short-termist reasons someone may give for their build (even if entirely sincere!) fall away once that idiosyncratic problem has passed. In the long run, a unit can only either A) defensively park/hedge, wasting unit moves, or B) attack centers, usually those en route to the stalemate line. Most good players will eventually use their units for B. So, when looking at someone’s builds, think, where can that unit go? What is its Option B? Who does it threaten now, and who must it threaten in the long run?
Some powers signal less during builds than others; for example, an Italian fleet in Naples weakly signals no immediate move on Austria (which would be more likely with an army) but does not clarify intent re: Turkey vs France. A German army build in Munich similarly reveals little.
You may have noticed that fleets are mentioned more in this discussion than armies. That’s not an accident; in general, fleet builds are more controversial and stronger signals than armies, because fleets necessarily must fight in a player’s accessible seas and have less plausibly-benign excuses appended to them that can be proffered to impacted neighbors. This might be why Diplomacy players (anecdotally; my impressions) collectively underbuild fleets. If you want to win more games: bite the bullet and build more fleets. Someone will be upset; you’ll have to find a way to deal with it. Note that twenty seven or 80% of centers are coastal (can be taken with fleets). There are seven landlocked centers: MOS WAR VIE BUD SER MUN and PAR. Note five of those seven are in the South.
In a battle over stalemate lines the number of armies may exceed the number of useful places to put them; you can only cram so many of them into the band between Switzerland and the Baltic Sea. Are armies bad? No, just different. If your solo opportunity runs through the South/East you’ll need more armies (to get those landlocked centers). Armies also offer more advantages on defense. Since a fleet cannot support inland, a player trying to hold out against invasion in tactically-rich spaces like Turkey, mainland England, or Italy will last longer with armies.
Last, if unsure what to build, ask what your unit portfolio needs to get to 18. Build toward that mix.
Let’s briefly consider how to treat with the different molds of player you might encounter in Diplomacy.
Most Diplomacy players can be plotted on the X-Y axis defined by “skill” and “risk aversion.”
Some would say “honesty” deserves its own dimension, but I think that’s merely a facet of the other two (risk averse players lie and stab less; skilled players choose their lies and stabs more carefully). Others might argue that “experience” likewise deserves its own axis. I think of experience as a proxy for skill. It’s a mostly-accurate proxy, but hopefully these pages will help you outskill players more experienced than you.
Embedded in this discussion is an assumption (perhaps unwarranted) that you can discern the character of a player early in the game. If the game is anonymous, that may be hard, and even if it isn’t, if you have not played with a given player before you’ll likely be in the dark. You can typically get an at-least ballpark feeling for a player’s familiarity with the game from the tactics they suggest or the details they mention about themselves. You’ll get a sense of their risk tolerance from the same items, plus also their moves, and the amount of emphasis they put on prophylaxis (DMZs, builds, stab insurance, etc) in discussion with you.
A game’s circumstances might force you to contend with tigers of many different stripes, but you might occasionally find yourself blessed with choice and in those circumstances, my suggestions appear below.
Let’s start in the boring corner: the highly skilled and highly risk averse. These players make great allies, but you will (almost surely) not solo in partnership with them; they won’t take the risks that might allow you to (risks in Diplomacy increase multiple players’ chances, not just that of the risk-taker), and you will spill ink on almost as many pages as I have written here drafting explications for the every move of each of your units, and negotiating over the builds that in their sufferance they permit you to make.
There are benefits to befriending these players: they probably won’t stab you. In partnership with them, you’ll likely kill off whoever’s left out, and you’ll likely make the draw. You might learn from their press and tactical sophistication.
Still, if you have any other viable options, my suggestion is to gang up and kill them, or to do your utmost to orchestrate their death if they sit on the far side of the board. (Or, don’t play with them to begin with). Players like these are severe obstacles to your solo; they will early and often make the draw-forcing choices that inhibit you, and will knowingly make them to the detriment of their own solo chances or draw standing.
The most interesting corner sits adjacent to the boring one, and houses the highly skilled and the risk-philic. At least in my experience these players are rare birds. They have above average win rates and are disproportionately represented in the ranks of players who have soloed against me. They vary in mannerisms from chivalrous to words unprintable. You might know them by reputation, but otherwise may not be able to pick them out because they may conceal the risks they are willing to take.
I think these players generate the most fun and memorable games. If they sit on the far side of the board, they may or may not be good for you. On the one hand, their efforts to kill their neighbors promotes board consolidation (bad) but on the other hand, at least they won’t dedicate themselves to forming a stalemate line before the game hits adolescence (good). If they sit on your side of the board, fun times but bad news; one of you is going to ground and you need to either get them killed off early or be sure you stab both hard and first. Absolutely, befriend these players over their risk-averse cousins (if those are the only choices) but understand that your kinship may have a short half-life.
Setting aside risk tolerance, a problem with all skilled players is that they are good at the game and liable to either kill you or thwart your solo. Since friendships in Diplomacy tend to advantage both parties, when you form one with a skilled player it follows that you are helping to build that wall that holds you back. So, if you have other viable options, take them.
That all sounds obvious, doesn’t it? The current metagame actually suggests otherwise; shockingly, the most skilled players often ally each other and a skilled player without a peer in a game often ends up with their choice of many allies. What explains that? A few things. First, “skill” in Diplomacy includes making other players like you, so naturally the strongest players weasel their way into confidences they shouldn’t. Next, an alliance with a skilled player means that player’s dangerous aptitude gets pointed somewhere else. This benefit is highly alluring to players who fear their skilled neighbor. Finally, two highly-skilled players often enjoy each other’s press, find each other easier to deal with, and are attracted to the prospect of gains and increased likelihood of a draw share should they keep up the partnership with their peer.
Any of the above reasons might motivate you to partner with whoever it is that is perceived as the best among your rivals. Realize that is a siren song; your win becomes less probable if that player gets strong. If all other players are cavemen, make the best of the devil’s bargain struck with the highly competent player, and try to preserve the option of stabbing them one day. Otherwise, band together with whoever’s available and try to get rid of them. Even if you get beat you’ll probably learn something from it.
If you need to kill off the strong, then who should you befriend? This is another sacrifice of the would-be soloist: by forswearing recourse to the best players, you’re naturally required to find ways to work with players who may not write the best press, understand your motivations, suggest the best tactics, or be trusted not to stab at odd times. You’ll need patience, humility (a bad idea: suggesting to someone that you are better than them and deserve their fealty), a thick skin and a willingness to make up with players who wrong you.
Who do I ally? This is personal, maybe you are different, but for the sake of transparency: if I am lucky, I’ll hit it off with someone and that sets the initial course of the game. Usually this is fun, success or failure notwithstanding.
Failing that, it can be fun to ally a complete novice and “take them under [your] wing.” Frequently they appreciate your earnest advice, are happy with any reasonable showing, and won’t begrudge you a stronger one.
Failing that, you’re left with a judgment call among anyone who seems reasonably interested in you (FTF) or who writes in complete sentences (online press). All else equal, I’ll default to whoever appears to have the greatest sense of adventure. These players might take risks that create opportunities for me, and if their game ends in tears, they might be willing to throw me a crown.
Before moving on, please be wise to a grievous error I periodically make: do not expect tigers to change their stripes. A pitviper won’t refrain from biting you merely because circumstances make it convenient or necessary for you to trust them and their press earnestly and convincingly suggests that you do so. And a denizen of the boring corner won’t take risks that might enable you, no matter how much sense that risk might make for them, no matter how much you beg or how forcibly you try to extract promises for action.
I recall one match among well-known players. The game was cruising toward a five way draw. A player across the line sat at a board-leading nine builds and did nothing for many turns, and turn after turn I begged and pleaded with him to do something, anything, to break the tired pattern the board had fallen into. Even though his solo was entirely viable, and even though he was smart and skilled enough to know it, he persisted in stagnation, and each turn told me that action was just a season or two away. By continuing to press him I allowed hope to override judgment and played worse than I might have. It would have been better to accept that a risk-averse player won’t experience an evolution in character over the course of a single game.
Finally, you might wonder how to best present yourself. It’s best not to put on false airs or misrepresent your personality, since people usually detect inauthenticity and decline to trust it. But, you might want to shade down how you present your willingness to take risks, and decline any mention of solo chances, unless in reference to a third party you want others to take down. If you give the impression that you have interest in a solo victory you will make yourself a target.
If you are experienced, you might consider discretion when presenting your experience. As above, players sometimes gravitate toward the most veteran out of fear or a desire for a strong ally. But others (like me) might feel a need to take down a perceived threat. You can mitigate this risk by framing yourself as a casual, once-in-a-blue-moon player, someone who has played enough to be helpful to other players but not so much as to be considered an elevated risk. That solves the target-the-veteran problem, at a cost. Those costs include dilution of the opposing ally-the-strong motivation, and an increased chance that someone will frustrate you with an attempted capitalization on your perceived naivete, an issue that might have been avoided if you’d been upfront about how many blocks you’ve been around before.
We addressed basic orders above; here, let’s take it a little further. This isn’t all there is to study, tactically, but it’s a start. If you’re trying to get to 18, this toolkit might make it feasible.
Like many games, Diplomacy has resources and your ability to execute on the constrained-optimization problem that governs those resources impacts your success in the game. What are the resources in Diplomacy? There’s territory, relationships, units… right?
My view: don’t think of yourself as having “units.” Instead of fleets or armies, think of yourself as the possessor of a given number “unit-moves” each turn. A unit-move is a chance to do something, to enter an order, to project force in a given direction, or to thwart the thrust of another.
More than anything, a unit-move is a chance to move. Although Diplomacy takes hours, there’s actually a quick tempo to the game; in the course of ten, twelve, maybe fourteen game years, you need to take your empire from three to eighteen centers. That’s not a lot of time; the average solo-victor sees greater than one center gain a year.
So, if you are going to win, your units must, generally or at least for portions of the game, flow like water. If you discover that you are usually support-holding with a material fraction of your units, something is wrong; you are not going to win. Move.
“How!” you cry. “If I don’t support-hold I’ll die!”
Maybe. You’ll have to here and there, but take some risks. As previously discussed, there’s an element of risk in playing to win; it’s way easier to try and draw.
The risks at issue here may be overstated. First, an impregnable set of supports is what your enemy likely imagines, and their orders in anticipation of that may render such supports unnecessary. Second, and more importantly, if you are support-holding, and not moving, with most of your units most of the time, you have likely selected the wrong tool (force) to hold the line against whatever jam you’re in. Instead, redouble your diplomacy. This war doesn’t seem to be helping you; can you make a peace?
On to specific orders you can issue. A self-bounce is a bounce between two of your units (or analogously, your unit and an allied unit) in a third space. The typical goal is to either A) cover three centers with two units, or B) ensure a home center remains open for a build, or both.
In the left image, Germany covers Munich from Tyrolia’s attack using a self-bounce between Ruhr and Berlin. In the right image, Norway and English Channel self bounce to guard North Sea.
Hostile support occurs when a power gives support to his opponent in a fashion that the opponent did not want or expect, with the goal of disrupting the opponent’s position. For example, a player expecting an opponent to self-bounce may support one arm of the self bounce so that movement actually occurs and a space is exposed or a home center denied building.
In the image to the left, Tyrolia provides hostile support to Germany’s self-bounce. Ruhr moves to Munich, which now cannot build. In the image to the right, Germany unexpectedly supports English Channel to North Sea, causing it to move and leaving Channel open for France to slip in.
Say you wish to break an enemy’s support, but a threatened unit is your only means of doing so. An option is to pair the unit’s move with an attack into the moving unit’s position by other units. In other words, A+B “backstop” C so that C may be held against D+E while C moves to cut F.
See the image to the left below. Munich and Berlin both face threats from Russia. MUN could face attack from SIL + BOH, but has plenty of support available from RUH + BUR. BER appears toast; MUN’s support to it can be cut by BOH and KIE alone cannot support BER against an attack from SIL + PRU + BAL.
The solution, or rather, an option, appears in the central image. BUR + RUH “backstop” MUN from attack with a supported move (RUH S BUR → MUN). Now, Germany faces no risk of loss in MUN. Then, MUN → SIL hopes to cut SIL’s support for PRU → BER, and save Berlin.
Will this work? Maybe. It will if Russia attacks BER with PRU or BAL. But it fails if SIL moves BER supported by PRU + BAL. But at least in that case, our hero Germany ends up with Silesia, and that’s not the worst thing. See image to the right.
The above brings us to the “moving unit,” i.e. the unit that makes the attack when a complex web of supports exist on either side. Often, when choosing a moving unit, there’s an element of psychology and anticipation involved (what moves will an opponent most likely play, and what’s the counter to that?). Regardless, know that a support that would otherwise be cut makes a good moving unit. I.e., if three units plan an attack, and a player expects the opponent to cut one support, attacking with that unit instead of others preserves the full strength of the assault. In the image to the left above, moving with Silesia (the unit whose support could be cut) guarantees Russia takes Berlin.
Consider another example. An understrength Russia tries to fend off Turkey, but can bring only two armies to bear against three. There’s no way to guarantee a hold. But in the image to the left, Russia tries what Richard Sharp called the “scissors” by self-bouncing both armies in UKR, eliminating UKR’s ability to support an attack into WAR or MOS. Everything holds.
However, what if Turkey attacked with UKR? In that case, there’s no means for Russia to hold, and Russia’s attempt at the scissors results in the loss of both centers.
For some centers, especially those on the immediate edge of the main stalemate line, the fight runs too hot to play directly for the center at the outset. Instead, a player might count up the spaces that surround it and move to secure a preponderance of the surrounding ground so that control of the center becomes inevitable. Conversely, the side wanting to hold the center should anticipate moves against it and allocate units to adjacent spaces ahead of time.
MUN offers the best example, since a solo run by Russia, Turkey, Italy or Austria may make or break in MUN. There are seven spaces around MUN, BUR RUH KIE BER SIL BOH and TYR. If MUN becomes contested, count up the possible armes that could back the enemy force and compare to your own. If your count is stronger, it may behoove you to quickly move for the surrounding ground and take MUN before the other side does. If your count is weaker, consider either A) fomenting some other distraction for one of the armies that would back the other side (say, place an army in PRU or a fleet in BAL to threaten an opposing KIE or BER), or B) finding an alternative option for crossing the stalemate line.
In a crowded engagement, a unit may have nowhere to retreat and must be destroyed if displaced. A skilled player might capitalize on this via focused efforts on killing that unit, rather than control of any one space or center. The player who suffers the destroy loses the unit-moves of the lost unit. Even if they rebuild it, they’ll do so at home, behind the front line where it can’t project force against their beleaguered foe.
Another game-speak term for this concept: "forced disband." I prefer one word over two.
Going for destroys works best on Spring turns; any territory lost can be regained on the Fall move, a task made easier by the numerical superiority conferred on the defender by the destroy.
Consider the image on the left below. Germany could lose Munich or Belgium to France on this turn, depending on the supports she enters and the choices Russia and England make. Germany knows that France likes the Ruhr position; the Ruhr unit likely acts to cut support, not move itself (a move by Ruhr would give up the Ruhr fulcrum that France wants to use to kill Germany).
In the image to the right, Germany goes for a destroy on Ruhr. MUN cuts any possible support from BUR. HOL S KIE → RUH. BER → SIL reduces (but does not eliminate) risk to MUN. In this example, Germany likely hopes that England will order NTH S BEL, which would eliminate risk to Belgium.
RUH will die, unless it moves to MUN, BUR S RUH to MUN. That illustrates the “moving unit” concept; a unit most likely to suffer attack makes a strong choice for spear-tip. But even in that case, Germany likely recovers Munich on the fall turn, and the lethal presence of the RUH army no longer exists.
What else could Germany have done? Well, there’s a stasis option (KIE S MUN, BER S MUN, HOL S BEL, hope for NTH S BEL). That would preserve everything. But typically, if the best you can do is stand still, you’ll be in reverse before long, especially if standstill relies on the good graces of someone else (here, England) to effect. Friends will abandon you or your enemies will bring more force to bear to break the logjam if you play for stasis for long.
A player with a displaced unit will normally retreat if a retreat option exists. In a few cases the player might voluntarily disband instead (let the unit die even though it could have retreated). Sometimes the player knows the unit lacks a future and wants to rebuild it as a different type (fleet or army) back home. Sometimes the player has suffered a stab or other misadventure and the disband offers a means for recalling forces from across the board (the disbanded unit repositions half a board away on the following turn). Sometimes the player voluntarily disbands as a concession to an ally.
I’m not a fan of the latter case, voluntary disbands to appease an ally. Typically this occurs when a party has a fleet with no plausible purpose save attacking their ally. The ally in question proposes disbanding it and rebuilding it as an army. This might be a fine thing to request, if you are the party that could be harmed by the unwanted fleet, but it is likely not a wise thing to grant.
Why? Most obviously, if you want to win the game, you’ll need your fleet to kill your ally with later (the whole reason your ally has asked to get rid of it). But separate from that, planned disbands are expensive; the alliance suffers the loss of three unit-moves (two to dislodge the targeted unit, plus one spent by the targeted unit’s hold). Point out this inconvenience and suggest a bounce or withdrawal of the fleet to some innocuous position instead.
Waiver refers to a player voluntarily forgoing a build to which they were entitled, usually as a diplomatic concession to other players. One player says to another, “Hey, you got a lot of builds this year and I don’t like the new balance of power” and the fortunate player builds fewer units than they could have to appease their interlocutor(s) and avoid kill-the-leader syndrome.
As a concept, waiver comes up in negotiations (“Please waive a build”) or sometimes in gaslighting by the leader (“I would have waived a build if only you had done X”) but it does not appear to actually occur that often. Why? The spare unit goes a long way to solving problems, and waiving it costs two unit-moves, plus any gains those moves might have generated. If others fear or may target you, are they more likely to act against you when you are strong (with all your strength brought to bear, when their risks are high) or when you’ve voluntarily wounded yourself by going down a unit? Remember, Diplomacy is “not a nice game.”
Remember also that there’s a tempo to Diplomacy games. If you waive builds, you’ve slowed yourself down and burned precious clock time. Waiver is a draw-forcing choice.
So, don’t do it. Feel free to ask others to wound themselves though.
I can think of exactly one possible situation in which waiver might be justified, and that’s if Germany helped me, France, into Belgium in Fall 1901, and extracted from me an explicit, pre-negotiated promise that I would waive the build, AND the board position after Fall 1901 suggests that I can’t afford to frustrate Germany. Even then, I’d be tempted to build three units and tell Germany to deal with it.
The apotheosis of France
“Misorder” means entry of an invalid order, sometimes intentional, which causes the unit in question to hold. A misorder may be a true error, but sometimes players will intentionally misorder and then chalk their units’ failure to move (out of a DMZ area, for example) or failure to support (when another player had expected support) to good-natured mistake, rather than dishonesty.
I’m not a fan of misorders, for two reasons. First, most Diplomacy players won’t buy the excuse, and even if they do, they may then conclude you are incompetent, and incompetence is as bad (worse?) as dishonesty. Second, a misorder necessarily requires that your unit do nothing for a turn (the unit-move feels wasted).
Example misorders: RUM S BLA, when RUM S BUL was the agreed order. Or, ION → GOL (Ionian move to Gulf of Lyon, an impossible move, when Ionian had agreed to withdraw).
Not so much a “tactic” but a related skill: sometimes a player is forced to guess an opponent’s move in situations where several options all seem equally viable. You might have options A, B, and C, and your opponent E, D, and F, and the whole setup flows like rock-paper-scissors. What do you do then?
There are players who believe that they can guess enemy moves with near-perfect accuracy; I doubt this claim but believe that players can guess another’s moves with greater success than simple probabilities might suggest. If you find yourself in a tricky situation, it helps to begin by identifying what the option set includes. Start by considering the move that feels most natural to you. Then, what could your enemy do to defeat your move? What alternative move could you play that would beat that enemy move? What could your enemy do that would beat your new move? Iterate through this thought process and you’ll identify the option set.
Then, think about your enemy’s personality (how risk-averse are they, and which moves correspond to their risk tolerance) and the moves they have played so far (which move is closest to their usual play) and the moves you have played so far (what might she anticipate from you)? Ultimately, your success is far from guaranteed, but maybe this process will take your odds from 50/50 or 33/33/33 and make them 60/40 or 50/25/25.
Let’s talk through a complex example, on a Fall turn. This is from an actual game.
Earlier in this game, Austria was stabbed by Italy. Austria managed to get Trieste back in the Spring, but has a horrific position going into this Fall turn. SER is at risk (from ALB). GRE is also (from ALB, ION, AEG). BUL is too (from AEG, CON). VIE is at risk (from BOH), and TRI, just recaptured from Italy, is at risk from VEN + ALB.
Summarizing: Italy can credibly try to take some combination of five centers: TRI, GRE, BUL, VIE and SER. Austria starts up TRI, but seems likely to be going down builds by the time the turn ends.
What’s Austria’s play? Start by thinking of Italy’s units.
The real questions are: what will AEG and ALB do? These units have non-obvious choices to make. AEG can give muscle to the attack on GRE, or can help take BUL. ALB can similarly play for GRE, or try for SER, or try for TRI.
The attack on TRI can feature ALB as moving unit, or VEN. The advantage to Italy of playing ALB as moving unit is that VEN’s support won’t be cut, but, if VEN were to succeed as moving unit instead, Italy’s position would be dominant and Italy might just run through Austria fast enough to solo: Italy would have units lined up from BOH all the way down to GRE.
What does Austria decide? First, Austria gives up GRE for lost. With three enemy units adjacent, and only BUL for support (which would be cut by CON), there’s no way to preserve GRE if Italy makes a play for it. GRE moves to ALB to cut support for any hit on TRI.
Next, Austria uses BUD to cover VIE. While it's possible that VIE would not be attacked (Italy could stand with BOH in hopes of tricking TRI to move), the Italian player is aggressive and BOH→ VIE feels like the more natural play. This move means Austria has lost any hope of supporting TRI, and is not (yet) covering SER.
Next, Austria stands with TRI. Why do that? Couldn’t TRI cover SER, or self-bounce in VIE or SER with BUD? Yes, but Austria knows Italy might hostile-support any self-bounce to leave TRI naked, and decides Italy is unlikely to play for SER, since it is surrounded by five Austrian units, seems most likely (to Italy) to be covered, and is harder for Italy to hold once gained. Instead, Austria hopes TRI will survive thanks to GRE’s sacrifice on ALB. Austria knows Italy is an aggressive player trying to get the solo, and hopes Italy will move with VEN so as to speed up his expansion in the following year.
Finally, Austria supports BUL to hold with RUM. Austria could have moved RUM → BUL and BUL → SER instead, hoping to cover SER, but that risks BUL falling to CON + AEG. Austria decides Italy is more likely to play for BUL than to spend ALB on a move to SER. Austria could have also played RUM S GRE → BUL(SC), BUL → SER and preserved both SER and BUL that way, but at the cost of the ability to cut ALB’s support for an attack on TRI. Austria continues to play as if TRI is a more likely target for Italy than SER.
The result? Italy goes for TRI, with VEN as moving unit, a play that if successful would set up the evisceration of Austria the following year and a possible Italian solo. Austria, expecting this, holds everything, save for the helpless case of GRE, which is offset by the gain of TRI. No builds lost despite a terrible position.
Even if you become highly capable, you’ll still exit a plurality of games in a draw and it’s worth knowing when to take that outcome without some residual sense of loss over solo odds left on the table. Let’s craft an answer for each of several cases.
Before we start, recognize the key factors in a draw decision: relative consolidation of the board, centers held across the stalemate line, and your relative strength versus the board leader, or second-rank player if you lead.
Fourteen or more centers, one or more across the main stalemate line: As long as you control a center over the line, probably no firm stalemate position has been formed against you and nothing precludes your solo. If your center count reverses and the across-line center falls, so be it; evaluate the draw then. Don’t take the draw till they put your center count into reverse.
In an odd case, you may be halted by a North-South stalemate line (most common if playing France or Russia). In this case try to breach it a couple times before taking the draw.
Fourteen or more centers, none across the line: the key question now must be, can you cross the line? Consider if any option retains even vague possibility and shoot for it if one exists.
Whether you have a center over the line or not, if at 14+ centers, feign interest in a draw, and maybe even spend a turn or two on apparent execution of one, if there is a weaker power that your rivals will agree to whittle out. Possibly, the weaker power’s frustration at being predictably cut out will clinch it for you should they choose to play spoiler. Consider also the fear of the smaller player; even if there’s no chance your primary rivals will risk killing the weakest party, the weakest party will not know this and could be exploited. It is much easier to clinch a solo against divided opposition than against two players working together on the other side of the line; hence why avoiding board consolidation is so important.
If the board has consolidated to three or four players (and none of the four are weak), the opposition appears united and betrays no division despite your probative press, and there are no prospective acquisitions across the line, it is probably time to draw knowing that you fought the good fight. Still, play the game out for a few turns before calling it done. You may push your center count as high as 17 and there’s always a chance that the iron curtain against you unexpectedly breaks. The only reason not to play it out for a little while is if another power sits at a center count equal to or greater than yours and that player has prospects for crossing the line better than yours. The and is operative; don’t draw merely because another power is strong, or you’ll miss wins you could have obtained.
Ten to thirteen centers: Generally, your bias at ten or greater should be to avoid a draw unless you are not the board leader and another power’s odds substantially eclipse yours.
Say you are the board leader and no one else appears likely to solo. The next question is how big you are versus others, and how many others there are. If the board has consolidated to three or four players, the cake may be baked, especially if you are not across the line and do not have prospects for getting across. Even here, don’t throw in the towel early; keep playing till you’ve hit a three or four way split that seems unbreakable. Something like 10-12-12 or 8-7-6-13, etc.
If the board has not consolidated (five players remain alive), work to sow division among your rivals, and especially court the favor of the weaker players. Remind them that, especially in a draw-size scoring game, their prospects for survival are minimal. You might find someone willing to become your client, or at least, ambivalent and selfish enough (not a bad thing!) about survival to give you the hints you need to go from strength to viable solo push. Meanwhile, work with the larger powers to agree to a three-way draw that cuts the weaker players out, so that the weaker players will face in actuality (not merely hypothetically) the threat that enables you.
What if you are at ten to thirteen, and are not the board leader? Might someone else take the solo from under you? In this case, be careful not to make stopping them a priority that overrides the pursuit of your own chances. Doing so is a powerful draw forcing choice. Don’t prioritize stopping them over your own expansion unless their odds are substantial, they have crossed the line or appear to be doing so imminently, and they have both double digit centers and more centers than you do, and you are not across the line. If those things are true, draw, till then, prioritize your own growth while scheming to deny or take from them their position over the line.
Six to nine centers: Drawing here is a question of the stage of the game. If another power has at least three more centers than you, you are not across the stalemate line, have no imminent game-breaking play to make, and the other players want a draw, it’s likely time to call it finished. Still, if five or more players remain alive, it may be worth pushing for some draw whittling to shake up the board, which may generate opportunities for you.
If you do hold a center over the line, no one else does, and you are not board leader, it’s likely best to avoid a draw, especially if draw votes are hidden and your refusal will be blamed on the board leader. Remember that no solo threat is credible without crossing the stalemate line; if you have done so, you are the true threat, not the board leader.
What if you are not across the line, but no one else is either, and you are board leader? My bias is to avoid the draw, but recognize that at nine centers, even if you lead, it is possible that the other players will gang up and zero you for refusing to draw (I have died this way). It’s not the worst way to go out.
Generally the goal if you are leading the board at high single-digit centers is to avoid consolidation (keep players 5-7 alive as long as possible) while getting across the line.
Five or fewer centers: Assuming you’ve reached the midgame (someone has died), you are not across the line, the board leader is at nine centers or higher, and you do not have a clear, imminent plan for reversing the fortune that has placed you in this subordinate position, take the draw and feel grateful to be included. You’ll get ‘em next time.
Let’s address the business of “doing diplomacy” in Diplomacy. Before anything else, recall that your interactions with other players are means towards the ends discussed above (getting to 18). To win, you’ll need to make diplomatic pivots in the game. You’ll need former allies to die, and you might even need the help of former enemies. While sincerity is good, a sense of impermanence and dynamism to your relationships is too; squaring those two items represents a challenge.
Say you’ve never played before. Remember this basic premise: it’s not all about you. It’s about how you can fit the wants of other players into your own plan. A common mistake is to be brusque or apathetic towards the needs of other players; do that and they’ll shut down and ignore you.
Another common mistake is to choose the wrong partners. The specifics of which country works best with which country are discussed later. Abstracted from that, choose personalities that work well with yours, because people are more likely to deliver for you if they like you. Also choose partners who write frequent press, because if a player isn’t engaged in the game you’ll likely find they aren’t capable or willing to deliver for you when you need them.
Next, all else equal, choose partners who seem more likely to be subservient. As we’ve discussed, though it may pain you, you’ll likely have to gut (or get someone else to wound) your early partner to win the game, and equally important, you’ll need to avoid their knife. Don’t get married, don’t fall in love.
Last, it helps if you are respectful as is feasible toward your enemies. Ideally, you won’t lie to them every turn, get upset with them, or make them feel personally affronted by you. Try to leave bridges only half burnt.
Good diplomacy starts with an idea of what other players intend. Put yourself in their shoes: what would you want in their place? Study their moves, gunboat-style: who do they like and dislike? Then, are there means that could fit their plan alongside yours? Partnerships are two-way streets, even if it is better that your lane run a little faster. Try to always offer your rival an incentive to work with you, otherwise, they likely won’t.
At the outset of the game offering incentives is pretty simple: “support me here, I’ll support you there” may be enough. But as the game evolves, you’ll need to think more broadly about your ally’s position: where are their routes of expansion? How viable are those? How many centers is your ally at, and how many are you at? Alliances fall apart when one party feels like they’re not getting enough out of it (so try to offer your ally growth, even if you outgrow them). They also fall apart if your ally’s best expansion route runs through you - so do your best to craft alternatives for your ally that are at least on par with whatever they might get out of you.
Consider also the incentives of your enemies: how’s the war working out for them? If you stopped fighting, what would they likely do? What is the best outcome they can currently achieve in the game, and could you offer them a better one, for a price? Try to avoid writing “friend” and “foe” on your rivals in permanent ink; the more fluid your relationships the more likely you are to solo.
In endgame state, careful examination of player incentives might unlock solos otherwise unavailable. Who has been scorned by the board? Who’s on the ropes and unlikely to make a draw? Talk to them. They might offer their sword. See Chapter 4.
Finally, remember that incentives aren’t all about the tactics of the board, they’re also about the social gain that may be had from interacting with you. To the extent that you can appear friendly, debonair, interested and interesting in each conversation, others will prefer your company or your letters. Some players care less about their outcome and more about how much fun they get from the game. Can you help them have fun?
Some long-dead economist observed that countries can achieve greatest net benefit from trade not by strong-arming partners into firesale terms, but by participating in a high volume of low-value exchanges. This is intuitive: Coca-Cola doesn’t make much on each sale of (each trade for) soda, but they sell billions of sodas each year.
The same attitude can loosely transpose over to Diplomacy: constant, low-value dealing can gradually build your dominant position, without ever trying to hold someone over a barrel. It starts by messaging everyone in 1901, even if there’s not much to say. Maybe there will be later. To the extent someone asks something of you that is easily done but perhaps not profitable, do it if the costs aren’t high; they’ll trust you more (brand loyalty!) and be more likely to work with you when you actually need something significant.
What can you bargain for? What may others ask you for? Obviously, players bargain for support into centers and the right to hold certain centers. More adroit players consider more complex offers and asks. When a dispute over center control cannot promptly resolve in your favor, consider if any intermediate step might work for your counterparty. Consider also the order of performance; i.e., who must fulfill a promise first. Ideally, you’re up second. Outside of direct support, expect negotiation over:
Finally, when working with allies, expect to plan (or bargain) over strategy, centers taken and positioning. A “good ally” will try to offer gains to their partner regularly during a joint campaign. Negotiations over position consider both future turn objectives (and the setup for them on a current turn) as well as things like stab mitigation or boundaries. An alliance between advanced players might mitigate the “serration” of their borders, to reduce the number of touchpoints between them. That reduces stab risk or unit-moves spent guarding on a stab, which boosts offensive power projection.
You’ll lie and get lied to in this game. Consider not playing with personal friends (some Diplomacy wounds never heal). Diplomacy’s rules are amoral and the clash between that in-game reality and your out-of-game sense of personal integrity is one of the challenges of the game.
All that said, when to lie, and how to detect lies?
Many players find that the choice to lie feels highly personal. There’s near-unanimous agreement that you shouldn’t do it often because each lie chips at credibility you may need later. Still, a few common situations almost require lies. In 1901, you might be forced to lie: you can’t tell France you’re moving to Channel, can you? (Some smart aleck reads this and thinks “yes” - no, no no). Sometimes your lies will be active or by omission; recognize that smart players can detect omission and evasion and an affirmative, committed lie more effectively deceives. Discussions of endgame state also involve lies: you’ll need to assure most everyone that they are part of your preferred draw, even though you’ll be (trying to) draw with no one.
When do I lie? I’ll confess to two cases. The first occurs when there aren’t alternatives, and the lie helps secure an important game position. The second results from unreasonable asks from parties who won’t accept “no” for an answer. Sometimes, when faced with unquenchable demands to make a trust-fall (a series of moves that places you entirely in someone else’s hands) or to take action blatantly against your self-interest, the lie (“I’ll do it!”) spares the liar a fair bit of aggravated debate and delays by one turn the punitive action of an unreasonable person told “no.”
I can’t tell you that what I’m writing here represents “the best advice” on when to lie, only what works for me.
After lying, don’t be defensive if called on it. “Sorry, I felt I had to” is fine. If your lie actually did work to secure an important position, others will blame you less.
How to detect lies? Most often there’s some inconsistency between what a player says they will do and 1) what their board position (the orders lately given to their units) suggests they will do, 2) what their apparent relationships with another suggest, or 3) some other thing they have said or failed to say.
For example, if a player assures you of his friendship but has moved units towards you without plain, benign reason (#1), or appears to communicate extensively with your rival (#2), you should feel doubt. You might breach the topic of long-run planning and find replies to be glib or unspecific. You might also ask about some related topic that a person playing a game premised on an alliance with you would likely have thought about. Does your interlocutor enthusiastically engage with that topic and give you the expected response? Or have they not thought about it at all? (#3).
I recall losing a game after Germany and France Sealioned me, one turn after we’d all committed to the Western Triple. Germany had been evasive on whether he’d bounce Russia from Sweden. Obviously he would, right? If this alliance were real? I failed to flag the danger in his evasion on that topic. He didn’t bounce Russia and I soon died.
Last, try to avoid taking lies personally. Diplomacy does not let a player please everyone; if you are lied to, the liar’s actions may stem from the same motivations that would cause you to lie. Perhaps you’re made for each other and just haven’t realized it yet.
Anecdotally, Diplomacy players appear to increasingly refer to any lie they are told as a “stab.” That is not the case; you should cultivate thick skin and shrug off small lies or moderate disappointments dealt to you. Someone who fibbed in 1901 did not “stab,” nor did someone who unexpectedly hedged against you. A stab is a grievous betrayal, typically irreparable, in which a player loses territory or critical position to another they have affirmatively trusted for a period of time.
How to avoid stabs? First, overcommunicate, and empathize. How’s your ally feeling? What are their options, and are any better than knifing you? Alliances are two way streets. You should aim to outgrow your ally, but the greater any disproportion, and the worse their expansion avenues, the greater your risk.
Next, consider how a stab on you might be executed and take measures to mitigate. You likely can’t fully insulate yourself from stabs, at least not without overly diluting offensive strength. But you can position for and negotiate over things that would make stabbing you hard. For example, negotiation over builds (“no fleets, please” says Italy to Austria) can create early warning. Same for position (“please hold Rumania with a fleet, not an army” says Austria to Russia). You may also set up bounces in choke points so that whole borders can be managed with few units expended (France and Germany bouncing in Burgundy). Finally, don’t always communicate all your moves to your ally. Take small moves adverse to them (I call these “hedges”) if you must (covering a border center, moving into no-man’s land, etc). They’ll deal with the slight surprise if they want to keep you, and you can give a frank explanation afterward.
Say you are stabbed: what now? Your game must focus on survival, for a while. Write your victimizer, politely. “Our partnership has evolved, where can we head next?” This sort of humility might create the space for repairing the situation later; for now, assume your erstwhile partner means your death. Immediately seek to make peace with anyone you’ve fought. Reach out to the strongest players, and let them know you’d appreciate their help should it make sense for them to give it. Recall any peripheral units back to your center.
How to stab? The simplest stab is a dot-grab on an ally on a Fall turn. The rival immediately loses units, you gain units; the long-run war odds shift, possibly irreversibly. This dynamic makes Fall stabs popular and of course creates the corollary tendency to “cover” exposed centers on a Fall turn.
Because advanced players often mitigate risks on Fall turns, you might need to stab on a Spring turn. These stabs are more about position than dots. Instead of sneaking into Belgium, try to sneak into Ruhr, and do so on the same turn that Germany is either headed off after Russia, or Russia (by agreement) is after him.
When to stab? You might stab because that’s your best route of expansion. You might stab because if you don’t, your ally, not you, will acquire the dominant position on your side of the board and preclude your solo. You might stab if you have strong reason to suspect they imminently plan to stab you. You might stab because your ally treats you badly and you’re tired of it. Lastly, you might stab because your ally holds the last few dots that can take you to 18.
Whatever your reasons, after stabbing, follow through (kill your victim).
There’s only one scenario where its best not to, and that one has many conditions attached. First, did you get a polite and humble message from your victim, like the one above? Then, can you convince your former ally that your choices were necessary and impersonal? Then, do they seem genuinely seem unbothered *and* do they have incentives to do something other than get revenge on you? If all these things are true, then maybe it's better that they live (that helps avoid board consolidation).
All that said, understand that most of the time your former ally won’t forgive (even if they say they do), that what you’ve done probably can’t be fixed over the short tenure of a Diplomacy game, and you’re best off if the victim dies.
Don’t yield to threats. If your former ally is in a position to effect them, you’re probably already dead; the only way out is through. An angry, threatening, stabbed ally won’t have mercy for you merely because you quailed under pressure.
The necessity of follow-through illustrates a key difference between a good and a bad stab: a good stab has a plan, that sees two, three or more turns out and has an executable means of achieving further gains. A bad stab commonly lacks vision for more than the turn on which it goes down.
With the caveat that each player inevitably develops personal style and yours may vary, a few things to keep in mind.
If you do not have objectives in mind when in conversation, you may find yourself a passive vessel for other’s schemes. Bully for them, not for you.
Stylistically, some players like to role-play. Others are business-like. Some speak like academics. Whatever their style is, sprinkle in a little bit of whichever part of your personality most matches (the more authentic, the better).
Say things didn’t work out. Your opponents bested you, either outright, or because you swung the bat, took a risk, and got shot down. How will you go out?
If you’re still alive, then traditionally the move is to fight hard to make draw, no matter how long the odds. At the outset, let’s make a candid assessment of your chances. A power at three centers in the midgame (after the first elimination) is severely wounded. A power at two centers at any point is bleeding out. At four or more, you’re not dead, keep trying to make things happen.
Say you’re wounded but want to make draw. The scoring system may play a role in your odds: if the game uses traditional draw size scoring (even reward to all players in the draw, regardless of their size), the stronger players have a higher incentive to make the effort to kill you (“draw whittling”). If the game uses a system that more heavily rewards higher center counts, you matter less and could squeak by if the board leaders see the game as mostly concluded and are ready to call it done.
Either way, a few things can boost your odds. First and foremost, it helps if people in the game like you. A generous sponsor may insist on your inclusion in the draw, as may an adversary who views you as worthy, if only out of friendliness or sportsmanship or the like. You can increase the odds of such magnanimity by remaining courteous even when all goes south; don’t scream invective at the person responsible for your demise (...if you want to make draw).
Next, positioning matters, and if you are in the process of hemorrhaging territory, it may behoove you to preserve that ground that will yield the most tenable position at the end. Supply centers along the stalemate line are harder for anyone to hold and more likely to be the subject of a rivalrous dispute in which two stronger powers both prefer you to their counterpart. By contrast, a behind-the-lines center, or worse, one in a corner, is less likely to make you the beneficiary of a dispute between third parties. If in a behind-the-lines center, choose one that borders other centers (e.g. England and Germany may not want to go to the effort of kicking you out of Holland if it means they’d have to spend unit-moves guarding the centers next door). It also helps if your surviving units are far from the heaviest concentration of enemy units; if you “run” to a center where only the outlying units of a single player can kill you, they may not find the time to finish you off.
Finally, know that solo runs by other players help you. Ideally, a third party’s solo run will just barely not succeed. If one is attempted, do not concern yourself with resisting it, consider supporting it, but try to avoid making any support given too frequent or blatant (those on the front lines may give up and kill you out of spite before everyone goes down together). You want those resisting the solo push to understand that you won’t stand in their way of forging a draw, but also view the solo run as mostly their problem to solve. Making a rival’s solo push your problem when you are two center power is a mistake; if the solo push stalls out short of the brink, it becomes too easy for the board to agree on a draw in which you are cut out. Your survival chances are maximized when no power can dare risk spending unit-moves to kill you because every single unit must allocate its energy to maintaining the tenuous equilibrium that holds the largest power just south of 18.
Of course, these efforts at making draw as a weakling rarely succeed. Some players get satisfaction from “sneaking into the draw” but for others, the moral obligation to continue submitting orders after the dream of Empire has faded weighs on them like a millstone, especially when the expected reward feels negligible. For different others, past betrayals or perceived disrespect have them upset. The summary: some downtrodden players want a quick exit or revenge or both. Assume for the moment that you are one of these people; what now?
Before choosing your death, avoid the common mistake of playing up its significance to players you do not like. The threat to “throw” or feed centers to a third party usually doesn’t work, either as a prospective threat or even when its execution is attempted. If you are down to a couple centers, chances are you’ve lost most or all control of events and who eats you may not be a choice you can make. Better to go down in quiet defiance than to suffer the humiliation of choking on your last threat.
That said, if you border several parties, you can choose to favor one by moving all your units away from them and toward a more disliked party. This strategy usually works as well as any alternative and requires no diplomatic effort. The disliked party’s work of killing you becomes marginally more difficult and the odds of a more respectable party profiting from your death increases proportionally.
A more interesting option exists if you are on respectful terms with a strong neighbor. Assuming you like this person, you may offer to become their client state and employ what arms you have in service of their solo. If you do this, understand that the other party may distrust you and view the proposal as your means of conniving your way into the draw. Disabuse them of this notion by staying in your lane as the subordinate partner. Don’t resist if they take a center off you, or express a desire to (they likely have to, if they are to reach 18). Be proactive and thoughtful in your contributions to planning and strategy. Don’t expect them to tell you everything they plan or think. Offer to disseminate their propaganda to the rest of the board, do so faithfully, and report back to them on what their rivals are saying. Do not tell your enemies that you have anointed someone to kill them; your chosen friend’s solo is much more probable if the other powers do not know that you are firmly in his corner. In other words: don’t threaten, do. It also helps if you commit to this course at three or even four centers; at one or two you’re often too weak to offer enough muscle to matter.
Most of the time, this sort of “throw” does not work out either, because the stronger party refuses (foolishly) or distrusts the offer of help from the junior party or because the junior party goes back on their commitment, or because the two powers together simply lack the strength to execute on a solo push. Still, if you find someone to help out in this fashion the game can remain fun: it may not be your victory that is achieved, but the strategic puzzle and the struggle to solve it still exist to offer satisfaction.
Lastly, what if you are the beneficiary of such an offer? Anecdotally, my experience is that players making these offers are more sincere than the average recipient gives them credit for. Consider the offeror’s language and past behavior: have they generally been respectful in press to you? Were any past fights between you reasonably explicable by the situation you each faced? How intelligent and well-written are their communiques? Do they have legitimate grievances against their other neighbors, grievances that would outweigh any they have toward you? Is helping you their best option?
If the answers to these questions are discouraging, its fine to shun the would-be janissary, but if there’s reason to think them credible, your best chance at a solo may be to take the risk (it is a risk) and trust them to follow through. I usually start with simple asks: please build/disband this, not that, please attack this, not that, please move x unit to y. Over time, you can involve your partner more in planning, but be mindful of the possibility that they may, once off their knees, reorient their goal toward making draw. “Hedge” against that periodically, and don’t be afraid to “stab” (debatable whether that word can apply to an interaction between a principle and a janissary) for the last few builds once its clear that such a choice will increase your odds of a solo more than continuing with the risk of trust. If they have truly sworn their sword to you, they’ll understand.
Diplomacy games occur via several fora. Most have “metagame” aspects that impact your chance of victory. A non-comprehensive overview appears below.
If you wish to win Diplomacy games, or at least want to make an attempt, seek out opportunities that are conducive to solo victory. Typically that means time-unlimited face to face or online full press. Any of the following factors help: anonymous, time-unlimited, non-tournament, non-league, private/hidden draw votes. More below.
Face to face play requires you to look into the eyes of the person you are lying to, and try to do it with a straight face. Others will try to do likewise to you.
For non-psychopaths, this experience may prove difficult, and frankly Diplomacy likely remains a niche game because of it. I do not recommend playing Diplomacy with casual, non-gamer friends; you might lose them.
But, say you’ve crossed that bridge, what next? Keep a few things in mind.
First, stay mindful of face-to-face’s accelerated timeline. You may have ten, fifteen, twenty minutes a phase. That does not allow for more than three minutes a foe, and realistically, less, because you do need to study the board before and after talking to other players, before writing your orders. Anticipate this urgency. In retreats and builds, examine the board. What did other players do? Who do they like, and who do they want dead? Who appears to have made concessions toward whom? Absent any press at all (imagine gunboat), what moves from each would you expect on the forthcoming turn?
Ideally, you will calculate your gunboat-like expectation for everyone’s moves before you begin talking to anyone. You will only have a few minutes to do so (the retreats and builds; everything else eats into precious negotiating time). Armed with your analysis of each players' position in a hypothetical no-press world, go into each chat with an idea of what the other player wants, what they are likely to do, and what they might be willing to switch to, provided there be an ask or enticement from you.
Mentally preparing for each conversation in a timely fashion is hard; you’ll get better with practice. The main thing is not to waste a moment on idleness when you could be thinking.
Next, consider the social aspect to face-to-face play. People will know your name. The non-anonymous nature means repeat play factors into each alliance and stab decision. Are you a repeat player? Great. You have an advantage. Are you new? Sucks. You face an uphill battle; although, an experienced player may take you “under their wing” (something you may exploit). Are you feared? (Did you organize this game among novice friends who know you’re more practiced than them)? A target may be on your back.
People also see you, physically. Are you freshly-shaven and bright eyed? Do you greet each person with a smile? Great. People like that stuff, in Diplomacy as they do everywhere else. You have an advantage. Or, are you sporting yesterday’s t-shirt, last week’s shave and a frown? Those things hurt you. More than online press, where we can all fake perfection, face-to-face Diplomacy involves the toolkit of social skills that you have honed over your lifetime. If you appear to be someone likeable and trustworthy, the sort of person others desire to befriend, you will have advantages in the game.
Players in face-to-face get to observe press as it happens. Pay attention: who asks to talk to whom? In what order does each player treat with their rivals, and for how long? If you are England, and France and Germany are cloistered in the bedroom across the hall for the first ten minutes of the fifteen-minute phase, don’t blind yourself to the bold-face writing on the wall (“s-e-a-l-i-on”). Know that other players will observe you, too. Ultimately, it will not be possible to shield your allegiances from others, but in early years, do your best to talk to everyone and to avoid appearing flagrant or prolonged when engaged with allies.
Finally, consider time limits and other aspects of the game. If the face-to-face game occurs in a tournament, all the tournament comments below apply. If time limits of 1910 or shorter are in effect, solos are unlikely and alliance pairings that rarely make sense are back on the table.
Virtual face-to-face refers to Diplomacy played live, over voice or video chat, but without physical co-location of competitors. “vFtF” took off during the COVID-19 pandemic.
If you sign up for a virtual game, most of the above applies. There are a few differences. First, time pressure may feel heightened because there’s no “slippage” from the slow meandering of people in a physical venue; instead, everyone relies on a strict game clock. Next, the possibility of accidental NMR increases; the game may move on without you if you fail to enter orders (whereas, in a physical room, people may charitably remind you to get it done even past time). Finally, it helps to be prepared: test your microphone, charge your headset (and have a spare ready should the first die halfway through) and familiarize yourself with the online platform ahead of time. You don’t want to spend half of 1901 trying to get your mic to sync.
Canonical Diplomacy has no time limit; the game continues till a solo victory or draw occurs. This may take four or more hours. Because of time pressure, game organizers may stipulate time limits in advance of game start. This occurs in online press occasionally, but most commonly in casual face-to-face play and tournaments. Time limits may be expressed in terms of game years (“games will be forced-drawn after Fall 1910”) or hours (“the game ends in four hours”) or clock time (“game ends at 8PM”).
The problem with time-limited games is that solos are typically precluded, since solo victory usually takes 10-12+ years.[14] Most games limited by game years will be stopped at 1910 or earlier. If you are playing a game limited by clock time or number of hours, do your best to estimate at the outset how many years may be permitted to elapse; most of the time that’s less than ten.
Diplomacy where solo victories are (nearly) impossible becomes a radically different game. A non-exhaustive list of reasons why:
This isn’t meant to rag on time-limited games. Only to point out that, should you choose to play one, you may injure yourself (as I have) if you treat it like a typical full press game where solo-victory is a realistic possibility. How to do well? Leverage the characteristics that time-limited play emphasizes. Make friends, at least one and ideally two, and stick to them, unless by stabbing you can credibly top the board. Don’t worry too much about the stalemate line; instead, go where the dots are. Trust, maybe a bit more than you would in a typical game, but not to the point where a stab risks multiple centers, and less towards the end of the game if you are in the lead (or your ally is just short of a lead).
A word on Russia. There’s some evidence to suggest that Russian solos occur earlier than they do for other powers, with ~half occurring before 1910.[15] Russia also starts across the stalemate line, so Russia does not have to adjust its playstyle from solo-attempt to non-attempt (other powers must plan for and pay opportunity costs to cross the main stalemate line; not true for Russia). The takeaway? If Russia, play a time limited game much like any other. Maybe, you’ll pull off a win. Or, if the clock runs out, at least there’s the board top as a comfort.
“He and I have known each other for 15 years,” said Austria to Turkey of Russia. Ugh, your Turkey was thinking.
I’m not a tournament player; here lie a few anecdotes that might help you profit from the handful of inauspicious tournament games I’ve played. "Tournament" means a virtual or face-to-face contest occurring over a weekend, although variations exist.
Most tournaments feature a cohort of repeat participants. These people know of each other and possess relationships that persist from tournament to tournament and game to game. More often than not they will preference each other over you. It’s just business. Alliances with known personalities are easier to manage and players within the cohort are incentivized to act more amicably and honestly with each other than they would otherwise because they will meet again (the element of “repeat play” in game theory).
If you enter a tournament and run into players who know each other, it’s probably best to play as you normally would in any face to face game, save for a little added caution toward the related parties (ratchet up the probabilistic risk of an alliance between them, or a stab arranged by them, against you in your game calculus). The game might proceed like any other, but if the two do form an immediate and unshakeable alliance, you may have to accept that the only remedy is to avoid taking yourself or the tournament too seriously. If you play a lot of tournament games, you may become known and benefit from the insular mechanics that initially hurt you.
Next, note that tournaments are competitions that elapse over many games, not a single game; so, your treatment of a given board should consider that other players may view the board’s outcome as but a season in a regular game, one stage in the broader theater.
This dynamic manifests primarily in jockeying around standings. Each tournament will have a scoring system that assigns points to various outcomes (solos are rare and sometimes entirely absent from tournaments, so scoring mostly rewards the most centers, aka “topping a board”). In most tournaments, a “top board” features the seven highest-scoring players after preliminary rounds conclude. Late preliminary rounds will be impacted by decisions players make about who they want to reach the top board.
For example, players who have already clinched a top-board appearance may act to either shape who their opponents will be, or may adopt reputation-preservation strategy (not lying) as their core value, since their results no longer matter (if they bother to keep playing preliminaries at all). Players who have not yet clinched, but are competitive for, a top board slot may play aggressively for the known result that would pay their way. “We mapped out the entire game in Spring 1901,” said France of England, after a victorious EF pairing. They each needed only 7-8 centers to make the top board, and an alliance between them made that likely to happen.
Players who are only playing a round or two (not attempting to make the top board) or who have already been mathematically eliminated from contention may become kingmakers. “I wanted to preserve my relationships in the community,” someone told me once after a stab. Although I did not realize it beforehand, my interlocutor’s knife ensured that a better-known third party would make the top board. Perhaps the benefitted party will repay the favor, if in the future my stabber is on the precipice of the top board.
Further, note tournament games are typically time-limited. Earlier remarks on that topic apply. Solos probably aren’t realistic and you should accordingly be open to alliances with any country (do not focus your Diplomacy in the channels that these pages or a full-length game might suggest). Alliances in a tournament match may be even more elastic and unusual than ordinary face-to-face play. “Allow me into Constantinople and my fleet will join your navy,” said Russia. The apocryphal Russian fleet Med! “Surely he intends my death,” I thought on receipt of this insane proposal. Later, after that Russia won the tournament, I came to believe he really was sincere.
Tournament games may feel whimsical and fun even if they don’t go well. Just don’t enter into them with the idea that you can play for a solo (most of this book is inapposite to tournament play), and don’t get invested in your results. "He was the best Diplomacy player in the world in 20[xx]," said one neighbor of another. Surely not, although he may have won a tournament claiming to confer the title. If you know that you would regret a tournament’s time or travel commitment if you scored poorly or got eliminated, then as in Wargames, the winning move is to not play.
Online play is where most time-unlimited play occurs, and has replaced the postal-play that kept Diplomacy alive in the decades of yore. This book isn't specifically about online play, but strategies discussed here apply and online venues offer an easy means for getting started.
There are many online communities; the three largest are PlayDiplomacy.com, Backstabbr.com, and WebDiplomacy.Net. There’s also the Conspiracy smartphone app, play-by-email clubs, Diplomacy Discord servers, and other venues missing from this incomplete list.
I have played on most online platforms, and find it hard to be objective about them. So, no recommendations here. Pick a site and try it.
The matter at hand: how to choose a game where players will take it seriously, where metagaming is minimized, where the contest is most “pure” and favorable to a solo? Whichever site you choose, try to play an anonymous (if online), rulebook or full press, time-unlimited, non-tournament or league, low-stakes (if any form of “point betting” is required), hidden-draw-vote game. Anonymity minimizes repeat play. Non-tournament / league / low-stakes means less metagaming and increased risk-taking by other players. Hidden draw votes are fun and may marginally prolong games that would otherwise draw.
A few further tips:
“Gunboat” means Diplomacy without messaging. This kind of play occurs almost exclusively online. Players in a gunboat game communicate through the moves they make and orders they write. A perk to gunboat is that the time commitment is much lower; each turn is just a little puzzle and many gunboat games can be played in the same time that a committed player might allocate to a single press game.
I’m not an expert at gunboat. There are many other[16] writings[17] on Gunboat from players better than I am at it that may help you, should you wish to try it out.
And you should, once or twice, if only because Gunboat can make you a better full-press player. Three reasons. First, tactical practice; you’ll get to play through more turns more quickly and experience things you might miss in press. Next, you’ll learn to read the orders page, which contains information (offers of support, or impossible moves entered as communications). It’s very easy in a full-press game to look at the resolution of a phase and forget to do this, and reading exactly what supports were entered by each player (even if they didn’t pan out) can give you a better sense of the match.
Third and most significantly, gunboat encourages players to believe their “lying eyes.” Look at a gunboat board. Who is attacking whom? Where is each player’s most likely route of expansion? Whom have they made friends with, or at least, who do they want to be friends with? The positioning of units on the board, and their motion from A to B (necessarily, away from someone, their chosen friend, and towards someone else, their chosen target) speaks to the intent of the player controlling them.
If you treat your full-press boards, and face-to-face game boards like gunboat boards, you’ll get a sense of who to believe and what to expect before you exchange words with anyone.
Diplomacy’s seven Great Powers are not created equal. Each faces different geography, encounters different neighbors, starts with different units and has differing odds of victory. We’ll pursue each in turn.
If given a choice of country, many aspiring Masters of Europe might pick England: safely tucked in its corner, enveloped by comforting seas guarded by two starting fleets, it strikes a viewer as a means for not getting killed. Plus, can anyone forget The Empire on which the sun never set? There is no India on the Diplomacy game board, but if there were English players would doubtlessly feel obligated to try and get there.
The defensive advantage of England is real but arguably overstated. England is the third-least likely to be eliminated; above average but only slightly.[18] The underwhelming performance of the English moat may reflect the “backdoor” nature of French attacks on England: a French fleet swinging up to the Irish sea cannot be countered by English fleets to the East of the isle. England’s aqueous defenses also create a challenge to offense in that England typically must spend unit-moves convoying armies to the mainland.
The foregoing may sound negative. That would be incorrect; England is a fine draw, the 4th[19] most likely to win (median) and an engaging experience for most players.
Typically English games start as a lover’s triangle with France and Germany, the three of them collectively known as “the West.” Russia figures in slightly, at least as far as Scandinavia is concerned. The pivot points in the West are control of Belgium, fleets or lack thereof in the English Channel, and (somewhat removed from England) control of Sweden. A key strategic choice early is whether to focus on killing rivals in the West, or whether to get on after Russia in Scandinavia, continuing on to St. Petersburg.
An English player focused on the West will try to ally one of France or Germany against the other, kill the outlier, then get after Russia, then stab their ally in a solo push (the stab may optionally happen before getting after Russia). An advantage of this approach is that control of the West happens earlier. You are less likely to die. If you allied with Germany against France, you may be able to cross into the Mediterranean and play for Tunis before Italy or Turkey closes that door.
The other option is to ignore Germany and France, either as part of a Western Triple or as a disinterested party in a war between them, and set after Russia. This is the more common approach English players take. To your author, it is less successful; St. Petersburg is often a dead end and the English player winds up stretched laterally across the map and exposed to the knife of hungry France. An English player taking this course should be careful to take St. Petersburg with an army (to hopefully enable crossing the stalemate line in Warsaw or Moscow) and should also be sure that Liverpool is not too far removed from help if France is parked in MAO or building in Brest.
In all cases, stay focused on your checklist: to win, you must eat France and Germany, part of Russia, and get an 18th center. The eighteenth center is most likely to be Tunis, followed in terms of probability by either Warsaw or Moscow. A piece of the Italian mainland may (but usually won’t) provide a winning center for an England that never makes it to St. Petersburg. All of these centers are far from home: England has to work constantly to cover the long distance between home and the stalemate line. Getting across takes preplanning; ideally an English player has locked down a cross-line center when still in low double-digits.
England’s corner position means that it usually has the better of any[20] alliance pairing: a partner working with England must necessarily move units away from England and towards the board center. A crafty England might arrange for their units to remain “behind” their ally, who may be off dutifully pursuing the alliance’s rivals in the hinterland. This sets up a very strong stab.
Of course, other players are aware of England’s “wicked witch of the west” reputation, know alliances often favor England and may be less likely to enter into one in the first place. Getting past their justified caution is an important Spring 1901 task.
Russia: appears first here on purpose. It is common for England to spend all of Spring 1901 chatting with France and Germany and ignoring Russia; a mistake. In 1901, England’s goal should be to get Russia to send Moscow south. A MOS → STP pressures England; Norway then takes two units to guarantee. Russia, for its part, hates to see an English convoy to Norway. A possible Spring ‘01 deal might be no convoy to Norway in exchange for no army in STP (honor this if you want; Russia must perform first, a virtue of the exchange). Negotiations ahead of the build should include an ask for no fleet build in STP North Coast.
An alliance between Russia and England (the “Northern Alliance”) typically ruptures over Scandinavia but can make life easier during the early years; both parties get a neutral (NOR/SWE) with minimal “unit-moves” expended, and thereafter things may work to Germany’s expense. It is worth keeping this option open; if an English player suspects a Sealion, Russia may be a lifeline.
Eventually, Scandinavia consolidates under one banner. An option, if under pressure or engaged elsewhere, is to let Russia have it. As long as no fleets are built in STP, Scandinavia is recoverable and a Russia in control of Sweden and Norway will often do something constructive like pressure Germany.
France: is the enemy.
Of course, in tournament play, time-limited games, and any other variant in which soloing is neither expected nor pursued, France is a powerful ally. With the safety of the board edge at their back, both powers can push east in a “juggernaut” almost as strong as the R/T pairing, usually ending in a three-way with Turkey or whoever else wins the East. This type of alliance is strong in the “meta” as of this writing. Indicating that you want to play this way is one path towards striking an alliance with France, regardless of venue or game rules.
All that said, a player who wants to win needs to kill France, quickly (the popularity of EF evidences players’ recent disinterest in winning). There’s no path to 18 without killing France; in fact, there isn’t really a great one to even 10, given that getting to double digits as England without harming France usually involves a great deal of lateral overextension leading to vulnerability to the classic MAO→ IRI + F BRE (newly built) → ENG + A PAR/GAS → BRE/PIC stab. France usually will have the chance to do this if both players are doing well; France’s expansion options (straddled across the stalemate line!) are better than yours and it is easier for France to justify newbuilds in Brest than it is for you to explain new fleets in London.
How things go with France depends on if you open to the Channel; the great benefit of that opening being a head start on the killing that must occur. If you open Channel it is not worth being honest about why you did; if everything goes south (say Germany and France begin the Sealion) you may yet need to make up with France. A few polite remarks about how your move really is a big misunderstanding (you worried he was going there!) or how you really want Belgium (plausibly the object of fleets in ENG and NS), might buy some optionality. After that (when you remain in the Channel in Fall ‘01) more earnest discussion, maybe a Hey Bresto[21] proposal (almost certainly rejected) can keep the veneer of politeness up till one of you is bleeding out on the pavement.
If you do not open to the Channel, then the aim should be to keep France from getting to six builds in 1901 while appearing to pursue an “Entente Cordial” alliance with her. Do not allow her to walk into Belgium, and God help you if Germany supports her in. Then vociferously oppose a fleet build in Brest, all while acting the part of the earnest ally. You may also ask directly for Belgium (comment about “fairness” and needing two builds in 1901 given that F/G get the same - perhaps France will indulge you!).
Avoiding fleet builds in Brest is tricky; a good France will frequently ignore your asks or threats and build in Brest. Still, a weaker personality might be bullied into building in Marseilles (best case scenario: now Italy will be upset) or into building only armies (almost as good: these can’t [directly] hurt you and will make Germany nervous).
Next: why so virulently anti-France? Doesn't England need to kill Germany too? Yes. But it is easier for France to gut you than Germany. Plus, killing France first makes soloing more likely than killing Germany first: all your units may then push East, leveraging the safety of the board edge, and you are halfway to Tunis at the start of the midgame.
Last: sometimes, you need to ally France. Remember the “path forward” if you aren’t taking the STP route is to ally one of F or G against the other. But it’s a temporary arrangement, if you want to win. France, if she wants to win, will be thinking the same thing.
Germany: if alliances with France are suboptimal, and alliances with Russia do not last (barring cession of Scandinavia), then that leaves Germany the optimal partner.
Germany has a lot on her mind; unlike you, Germany lacks a safe, board-edge flank and must be on guard everywhere. Typically that means Germany is receptive to making friends. A concern a (smart) Germany will have is the risk of a stab from you via NS (say, NS to HEL or SKA, a newbuild fleet to NS, or more simply a straight convoy to a vacant HOL or DEN). It costs Germany many units to hedge against you and as few as one to hedge against France. This differential can motivate the "Sealion” alliance between Germany and France against you.
Sealions mostly manifest in 1902; a stay of execution that actually may frustrate you because F/G can spend 1901 credibly lying while innocuously pursuing neutrals, only to turn it around on you later. Signs include not bouncing Russia out of Sweden, no quarrels over Belgium, no French move to Burgundy. You might also be invited to a Western Triple; an easy and costless 1901 proposal by F/G that has you gallivanting off to STP (angering your only lifeline in Russia) while F/G pursue easy neutrals.
How to pull Germany to your side? First, if a Western Triple actually appears sincere (Germany appears committed to bouncing SWE, no one objects to your acquisition of BEL) then you may roll with it; but be careful about stretching with a move to Barents.
Next, if everything is a muddle, make the typical “I’ll be the fleets, you’ll be the armies” proposal to Germany (and in 1901 at least, stick with it). Ask for help to BEL; if rebuffed, insist Germany have it. Depending on how Germany reacts, consider playing for the Channel. Discuss the board and ask how Germany sees the game. If Germany is a new player, point out the obvious risk of invasion over land; a new player may overworry about this. If Germany has clearly been around the block before, comment on the power of France’s edge position; France at X builds outguns Germany at X and Germany will know it.
Finally, regardless of Germany’s attitude towards France, you’ll want him to bounce Russia out of Sweden. He may demure; point out that German-Russia wars are a common 1902/3 occurrence, that Russia’s threats are meaningless if Russia is suitably kneecapped in Sweden, and that your job of killing France becomes much harder absent a bounce.
Frankly, English alliances are a hard sell, to Germany and to anyone. Your ability to stab via NS will have everyone on guard. You may overcome this by appearing more reasonable than the alternatives, and by emphasizing the natural advantages of France and Russia, both more fearsome than you long-term, even if they can’t stab via NS.
Turkey: is the “natural ally” of England. Often, no combat between them happens; for any to occur, both must do well and meet near the stalemate line. It is worth speaking with Turkey early; make her your eyes and ears in the East. Exchange sympathy and rumor. England and Turkey may also collaborate against Russia, but this is generally not something either will do unless it makes sense given their local politics (for England, the West, Turkey the East). TLDR: do not expect early promises from Turkey about Russia to pan out unless they would have anyway without you asking.
Austria: if Turkey dies, Austria may be the new “natural ally.” A difference with Austria is its marginally-higher influence on France. Ideally, Austria encourages Italy to check France, but does not enable Italy to grow too strong (bad; then Italy keeps you out of Tunis).
There is an argument for viewing Austria as hostile; after all, Turkey is a friend and Austria is usually Turkey’s enemy. Further, Austria often has an affinity for Germany; all else equal, affinities for Germany are bad. Fair enough. The reality is that England won’t have that much control over which of Turkey or Austria lives or dies, so best be friendly with both so that either is a viable midgame partner, even if it might be slightly preferable for Turkey to prevail.
In Spring 1901, it’s ideal that Austria avoids a friendship with Russia; the army in Moscow must go somewhere; and Ukraine suits you better than St. Petersburg.
Italy: In most games, Italy focuses on the Eastern hornets nest, pursuing Turkey’s death or stabbing Austria (or one then the other). Italy won’t often do what England wants and open to Piedmont and pressure France, and requests to do so often get reported to France (along with any English commitments to open to Channel). Still, the occasional Italian who sua sponte expresses interest in Piedmont deserves encouragement, and a few words about cooperating against France whenever Italy is ready won’t hurt. Most of the time, England is ready to fight France before Italy is, but when that starts, Italy might be persuaded to “come get their share.”
England typically wants Italy to survive, needle France, and stir the Eastern pot so as to avoid consolidated Eastern opposition during an English solo push. But it is no good if Italy does too well; Tunis is the most likely 18th center for England and a strong Italy will lock down the Mediterranean too quickly for England to get in and take it.
England may target four neutrals in 1901: Denmark, Norway, Holland, and Belgium. An enterprising England may also take a shot at Brest (a French center) in 1901. However, Norway is the only one of these that is typically regarded as rightfully English. Belgium is a maybe; Brest is plausible (in an early war with France). Forget about getting into the rest, although a churlish England could bounce Germany out of Holland or Denmark in Fall 1901, depending on Spring moves.
There are many possible English openings but only four realistic ones, and that quartet is really two moves each with a variation depending on where army Liverpool goes. Regardless of which one you play, the goal for the following Fall turn should be to convoy the army somewhere, anywhere, because it’s mostly useless where it starts.
The first half of the quartet is the most popular, and comprises the fleet combination EDI → NWG, LON→ NS, and the army in LVP to either EDI or YOR. The YOR variation is more defensive; if France moves to Channel and Moscow moves to STP, Yorkshire can cover London while the fleets take Norway. The Yorkshire version is the only opening that guarantees England a build in 1901.
The Edinburg variation (same fleet orders, but LVP→ EDI) has an advantage in that either fleet may convoy the army (vs only North Sea in the Yorkshire variation). So, the EDI variation offers the possibility of convoying the army to Norway while North Sea remains free to mess with rivals (either by bouncing Germany out of Holland or Denmark, moving to Belgium, or supporting a rival into Belgium). It also appears marginally more trusting to Germany and France.
So, LVP to EDI or YOR? YOR is more heavily recommended by experienced players and salvages 1901 if everything goes awry. Your author lacks a strong preference. EDI is probably fine. The added flexibility is valuable and it is unusual for England to see moves to both STP and Channel such that YOR’s “insurance” pays off. The choice may depend on whether France and Russia are gracious in early talks.
The second half of the quartet of common English openings sees LON → ENG and EDI → NS. The LVP army may go to WAL or YOR. The benefit of this opening is an early start on France and a more credible bid for Belgium. The disadvantage is an escalated risk of no-build 1901: if Moscow went to St. Pete, Norway is uncertain, and France or Germany may conspire to keep you out of Belgium.
Brest is a possibility; assuming France opened to MAO the French player may (probably will?) leave BRE open even with England in the Channel, reasoning that a build is a build, Portugal is in hand, maybe England expects a BRE cover and won’t move there, and covering BRE means no fleet BRE build in Winter, assuming no bounce.
Where to send the army? The YOR variation is more flexible - the army can make it to Belgium or Norway, the Channel move can be sold as an honest mistake to France (I thought you were going there!) and the availability of NS to manage the convoy means Channel is free to take a risk, like BRE or MAO.
WAL lacks all subtlety; the army is meant for France. This isn’t all bad; France won’t be happy with you in the Channel anyway so sacrificing the ability to make fake excuses isn’t a tremendous loss. It also assures Russia of your French-centric focus (no army to Norway) and demonstrates commitment to Germany. The army can land in Picardy (unlikely covered), Belgium (easier if Germany allows it), or even Brest (a gamble, but a huge payoff if successful).
When is it worth playing either of these variations of Channel openings? There are factors that make it more comfortable. If Russia seems friendly (unlikely to move MOS to STP), risking it in the Channel is less dangerous; worst comes to worst there’s still Norway. If Germany and France seem likely to bounce in Burgundy, that is a good sign too; in that case a convoy to Belgium could be guaranteed, or nearly so. If Germany and France are not bouncing in Burgundy because France is supporting PAR→ BUR with MAR, then the Channel may still be strong; Germany is less likely to support France in the E/F war when France’s moves are untrusting.[22] The move is also more favorable if Italy is moving to Piedmont, for obvious reasons, or if they are moving to Tyrolia. Tyrolia helps because the more problems Germany has, the less likely he or she is to pick a quarrel with you when you’ve quarreled with France. Here we arrive at a weakness of the Channel opening: having committed against France, you’re in Germany’s hands (France will honor its offer to Germany to kill you together ten out of ten times; much depends on if Germany takes the offer).
Opening to Channel can also be the better move if Germany and France seem to be plotting a Sealion in Spring 1901, but you do not expect the sword to drop immediately (France is not expected to move to Channel). An anti-English plot by France and Germany may be obvious (they know each other, are both high in tournament standings, are talking to each other before talking to you, etc) or more subtle (they are suggesting a Western Triple, but want to “be careful about it” and aren’t making commitments like building F Mar or bouncing Russia out of Sweden). Against a committed Sealion, you’re in trouble, but a clear commitment against France may persuade Russia it is safe to help you, and an unexpectedly weak French position may persuade Germany (or Italy) to reevaluate options.
There are some situations where it is best to stick with the usual NWG opening. These include when Russia is hostile, when France seems ready to commit to an alliance against Germany and Germany is nonplussed by the converse proposal, or when both parties seem credibly committed to a triple or are willing to let you have Belgium without fuss. It is also probably better to move to NWG if you expect France to move to Channel: a standoff may leave you buildless and weak; the EDI → NWG and LVP → YOR combination at least creates reinforcements for the harder game ahead.
Russia may seem unfairly overpowered to new players; it begins with four units and a looming purple steppe that dwarfs all rivals in visual landmass. The numbers partially bear out these impressions; Russia wins more often than anyone else, at least in older statistics.[23] Today, fewer NMRs and shifts in the broader metagame might lead players to favor other countries (France) but for the would-be soloist, Russia remains a strong draw.
That said, recall that the game begins in 1901, and soon after the Romanov Dynasty met a bloody end. There are no guarantees; in games where Russia does not solo, Russia has below-average chance of making draw and suffers a relatively high elimination rate.[24]
How to outlast Nicholas I? Remember first and foremost that Russia really plays “two countries,” or at least, two theaters, the North (St. Petersburg and Scandinavia, and later, Germany) and the South (Austria, Turkey, the Balkans). The main stalemate line runs between them. To get to 18 Russia must preserve and grow a stake in both theaters; the sad Russia who suffers from the common loss of the North to a Western power will not win the game. A bad early or midgame result for Russia sees Scandinavia fall to Germany or England. If that happens, STP follows soon after, and once lost, cannot be recovered, as STP sits on the far side of the stalemate line and can be indefinitely held against an irredentist Russia by only two units.
Of course, the burden of a two-front country comes with some pluses, and for Russia one plus is starting position across the stalemate line, as well as the ability to build fleets on either end of it. The fleet mechanics aren’t quite as good as those of France, who may not only build on either side but may also move between sides. Russia’s fleets cannot replicate this easy shift between theaters, but Russia does have the option of “subsidizing” a war in one theater with units supported by centers in another; the North could see a flood of Southern-raised Russians or vice-versa.
So, the key challenge for early and mid-game Russia is balancing commitments in each theater, commitments denominated in both units and diplomatic obligations. Ideally Russia is always pushing in one sphere or the other, subsidized by peace on the opposite border, or pushes successfully on both thanks to enabling allies bought with skillful diplomacy. A Russia under heavy pressure on both ends likely won’t withstand it; Russia plays “two countries” but starts with just 1.33x normal units. The same brittleness shows when Russia faces a heavy overland push from Germany or Austria (or both); against this attack Russia’s fleets are close to useless and only thinly-spread armor can make a defense.
Russia is a “momentum” country more than others; Russian wins take the least time (median solo length near 9 years).[25] Patience might work for some countries; not Russia. Don’t worry too much about the consequences of your early lead if you are so fortunate as to have one. The speed of Russian advances may reflect Russia’s position across the main stalemate line (thanks to St. Pete); since Russia lacks a need to scheme to get across the line, aggressive land grabbing in any direction furthers a solo. The real trouble for Russia is the possibility of a North-South line, typically formed by enemies holding both Scandinavia and Munich. Keep an eye on this if you have strength to spare in the midgame.
The same breakneck speed at which Russia can expand might also speak to the “brittleness” described earlier; Russia’s center count infrequently experiences stasis. If not headed up, it likely heads down.
Since Russia has more units, borders and neighbors than other countries, this discussion covers only some possible approaches. Russian strategy after opening usually falls into one of three buckets. In order of my anecdotal impressions of their popularity, they are 1) fight in Balkans with Turkey and/or Austria, 2) fight for Scandinavia, or 3) fight Germany.
The first course feels natural for Russia; all three of Austria, Turkey, and Italy will seek to manipulate each other into actions unfavorable to the other two, and there are a bunch of nominally-neutral centers to be had. Russias also often worry (not unreasonably) about the possibility of a Turkish invasion from Black Sea / Armenia into Sevastopol (usually lethal to Russia if it succeeds, no matter how strong Russia may be elsewhere) and want to put Turkey down early to foreclose this disastrous outcome.
That’s all fair enough. Definitely smarter than the minority bucket, early- or early-mid-game attacks on Germany, which can see Russia crucified after too many competing needs materialize on too many borders against too many rivals.
My preference though, for the would-be soloist, is an early focus on the northern route into Scandinavia.
A couple reasons. First, to win Russia must preserve itself north of the stalemate line. At the start, this territory comprises only St. Petersburg, which once lost cannot (usually) be recovered, as England or Germany can hold it indefinitely with only two units (unless the Northern Russian fleet survives). Lose STP and your solo odds are nil; sorry. With only one home center north of the line, this half of Russia’s war feels intrinsically weaker and deserving of more early commitment.
Diplomatic factors also favor this course. First, what happens if Russia makes it to Norway? England won’t like it, but if rational, may shrug and turn elsewhere. It takes as many, or more, units for England to make a bid for Scandinavia as they are likely to get out of it. So, England might shake hands with you and busy themselves fighting France or Germany, if France and Germany haven’t forced that on England already. But should England gain a foothold in Scandinavia, their path of least resistance will always be to keep going till they’ve chopped your arm off in St. Petersburg (unless and until France backdoors them in Irish Sea).
Someone (you, England, sometimes Germany) will play for Scandinavia early, and the winner there likely ends up with St. Pete. In other words, Scandinavia is an unstable system that seems likely to find a semi-permanent equilibrium, in your favor or someone else’s. Should you win, you have decent odds of cutting a deal to call it there and shifting your focus elsewhere. Should you lose, game over, as far as solos are concerned.
The South, by contrast, is both less forgiving and less urgent. Less urgent in the sense that should you suffer setbacks there, those setbacks will likely not feature the permanence that loss of Scandinavia implies (eventual loss of St. Pete and a zero solo shot). Less forgiving in that the possibility of making peace with a beaten neighbor is lower. Go after Austria or Turkey and you will have to crush the lifeblood out of them. There’s no midgame peace deal to be made, like there might be with England.
But, if you take it easy in the South while committing North, there’s fairly high odds of Austria, Italy, and Turkey committing to trench warfare against each other while you sit idly by, gently stirring as needed. In the South, your death is no one’s first priority, and arguably not anyone’s second. Maybe you can even keep Rumania while hurling yourself North. Worst comes to worst; someone takes it; even then, the acquirer likely has fish other than you to fry.
Since every game differs, sometimes the best course will feature an early campaign against Austria or Turkey. But if given the choice, an early focus on the North seems most likely to lead to a solo.
How will you get to 18? Russia’s solo patterns vary, since they expand on either side of the line, but a typical solo might see Russia with all of the South save Italy (13 centers) with the balance made up in Scandinavia (three centers) and a couple out of Germany or (less easily, since extra seas require crossing) mainland England.
Russia has four immediate neighbors and the remaining two powers have enough common interest to speak with regularly. So: everyone on the board will want to talk to you. This advantages you, in terms of game experience if nothing else, although in a face to face game with quick phases, it places an even higher premium on your ability to manage time and execute on quick, meaningful conversations.
For most powers, Russia occupies a mid-tier position in the hierarchy of priority (everyone wants to talk to you, but most of them will want to talk to someone else first). That can yield flexibility; since you do not usually feature in the tippy-top of opponent’s schemes, they might experience less chagrin if you cannot always give what they want.
Since Russia fights two wars in two theaters (North and South) with only one more unit, your skill as a diplomat matters even more than it might for the average power. Some countries need just one friend to do well early; you’ll want at least one on each side of the stalemate line, and you’ll need to balance your commitments to each pal so that you can preserve your interests in each theater.
Turkey: … the inkwell could topple here. Let’s start with the Diplomacy metagame. The East tends to be more backstabby and uncoordinated than the West. While sandwiching Austria among three powers (Russia, Italy, Turkey) used to occur often, now Turkey is out of community favor, and alliances between Italy and Austria at Turkey’s expense are common. So, if you offer friendship, at least in the current metagame Turkey is incentivized to take it.
The combination between Russia and Turkey is called the “Juggernaut,” the most recognizable alliance in Diplomacy. In the current metagame (and also, in ages past), a board that detects a juggernaut tends to set off the klaxons and band together. In extreme cases, the rest of the board might drop everything to unanimously oppose you. Why? Well, Russia and Turkey can in theory offensively project with nearly all their units, leveraging the safety of the board edge, and resistance against them falls to central powers who may have other problems with the far Western edge. In other words, absent unified opposition the Juggernaut can roll like tide over uncoordinated, overextended resistance faced with far more borders than Russia and Turkey have to deal with.
The fear of provoking a unified resistance often leads Russias to decline a juggernaut. Russia should worry less about that. To third parties, the Juggernaut isn’t much different than the Entente Cordial between France and England, which occurs all the time. Further, you can reasonably tell neighbors that you’re just biding your time with Turkey; what choice do you have? Your quest North means you lack the firepower for a Turkish confrontation now. A shrewd Western power might decline to participate in the juggernaut-blocking, provided they reasonably expect Russia or Turkey to stab (and if everyone plays to win, they’d be right).
Said another way: reactionaries might experience hypoxia on the first turn that you do not bounce with Turkey in Black Sea, but their instincts aren’t fully rational and you can endeavor to persuade them to chill out. To the generic onlooker, is empty BLA much worse than a vacant ENG or vacant BUR? No, arguably. Make the argument.
Tactical goals for the juggernaut: forcing Ionian (the largest Southern hurdle), and winning Scandinavia in the North. Diplomatically, Russia and Turkey need at least one power to decline any board effort at unification; France might be most persuadable but anyone will do.
If you do pursue a juggernaut and are jointly successful then the endgame likely favors whichever of you or Turkey stabs first. Happily, it’s easier for Russia to stab; usually, Turkey must build a bunch of fleets that can’t hurt you while you must build bunch of armies that can take whichever Balkan and Austrian provinces you allow Turkey to acquire.
Allowing Turkey to acquire some Balkan and Austrian provinces is a good idea, unless they seem overly submissive or forced into janissary status by the conduct of Italy and Austria. A Russia who takes too much of the spoils risks provoking a stab from Turkey. Why chance that? If you manage carefully, Turkey typically won’t have motivation to hurt you till Italy is wounded, and that takes a while.
What about Black Sea? Most of the time, friendly or not, Turkey and Russia bounce in Spring 1901. There’s too much risk too early to agree on anything else. You might suggest to Turkey that your fleet be allowed to pass through Constantinople and join Turkey’s navy in the Med; this eradicates a sore spot between you (your trapped Sevastopol fleet pointed at Turkey’s backside). I have persuaded Turkey to let me do this exactly once in my lifetime; as far as I know, this strategy is mostly apocryphal.
After Spring 1901, it’s fine to not bounce, but the negotiations are tricky and require you to make an estimate of Turkey’s willingness to follow through, weighed against the risks they do not (loss of Black Sea is bad unless you have the capacity to build in Sev and take it back), weighed against what you stand to gain by betraying them and moving in. Worse, an agreement to stop bouncing, if successful, is the most blatant signal to other powers that a deal’s been cut, which may trigger the opposition discussed above.
Every game is situational. My sense: if pursuing an alliance with Turkey, its best to keep bouncing (or take Black Sea, if they’ll let you, honestly or otherwise) till at least Spring 1902. At that point, the first builds are made (the first bit of “destiny” decided) and some early wars among other powers have hopefully begun, so the provoked reaction to an empty Black Sea may be mutable.
We’ve spent a lot of wordcount on the Juggernaut. It’s a powerful alliance, lately out of favor, that in my opinion deserves more of a look than it gets. It lets you focus on the North (since Turkey carries the South). It probably doesn’t deserve the reaction it can engender (and you may convince rivals of this viewpoint). It lets you out-expand your primary ally since even if Turkey mostly carries the South, you’ll get *some* Southern gains plus *all* the Northern gains. The fiercest resistance (Italy/Austria) mostly hits Turkey, not you. The Juggernaut sets up a mid/endgame scenario that favors your solo should you execute on the stab that’s easier done by you than by Turkey, if you’ve managed to limit Turkey’s army builds.
But the Juggernaut won’t always make sense. Possibly, Turkey won’t play ball. Or, maybe you hit it off with someone else. In any event, if your posture with Turkey isn’t friendly, try to appear neutral. Avoid Turkish moves to Armenia, which tie you up supporting Sevastopol (removing an army from use in the North). Avoid Turkish control of Black Sea. Play Austria and Turkey (and Italy) against each other, encouraging them all to build fleets, and committing your own moves only when needed. Do not agree to (or at least, do not go through with) Turkish proposals to destroy your Sevastopol fleet; you’ll need that to kill Turkey, now or later.
Sometimes Turkey will move against you via an opening to Black Sea and Armenia. At least this opening lacks all subtlety. You might even see it coming, if Turkey seems truculent or spends too much time chatting with Italy. If it does happen, make nice with Austria and Italy and there’s decent odds one of them will fix the problem for you.
Regardless of how friendly you feel toward Turkey, you’ll want to negotiate for this opening: CON → BUL, ANK → CON or BLA, SMY → CON (unless Ank goes there). Any variation from that weakens you. In winter, ask Turkey for a fleet build in SMY. That commits them against Austria and Italy. Armies signal a likely focus against you, since Turkey likely cannot fit them over the narrow bridge to Bulgaria for use elsewhere.
Austria: alliances between Austria and Russia enjoy greater favor in the “meta” than those between Russia and Turkey. Probably because of biases against the Juggernaut; for the would-be soloist Austria is better off dead than befriended.
Why? Austria, more than anyone else, needs to die if Russia is to solo.[26] Even Turkey and Germany have lower elimination rates in Russian wins than Austria. Since alliances usually advantage both participants, by choosing an Austria for an ally, Russia builds the wall that they must surmount later to play for the W.
Austria’s ability to stab you presents another obstacle. Since Russia fights in two theaters, each with fleets that cannot defend the heartland, Russia faces high odds of death if anyone attempts a heavy overland push into the Asian center. Two powers can do that; Germany and Austria. From Austria, the risk feels exacerbated; an Austria who survives the early years often winds up with a concentrated mass of armies capable of exploding in all directions. That concentrated mass will far eclipse whatever you can bring to bear unless your center count at that time has far exceeded Austria’s. At same-ballpark center counts, Austria’s ability to knife you will exceed your ability to do the reverse.
Of course, that doesn’t mean you won’t have occasion to befriend the Austrian. Two scenarios come to mind. First and most naturally, you might befriend Austria if committing North early. The extent to which this friendship is genuine, versus merely buying time for you to secure Norway and refocus South might vary on the circumstances. Possibly, Austria becomes your trusted partner or just as possibly you’ve managed to make friends with everyone in the South, Austria included.
The second befriend-Austria scenario occurs when you and Turkey do not get along and you need him dead. It might be that negotiations over Black Sea failed, or that Turkey moved to Armenia, or that he’s otherwise truculent; whatever the reason, if you need Turkey dead ASAP Austria may offer to serve in that cause. A good Austria recognizes that Turkey has no choice but to try to kill Austria before long and will feel inclined to work with you to get rid of the threat.
In 1901, Austria commonly insists on a bounce in Galicia. It might be best to let Austria bring this up; if they do not, perhaps they will not move there and your own move there might succeed, with the benefit of either added leverage on RUM or a shot on VIE/TRI. If they do bring it up, its best to acquiesce to the request, unless they fold on it in response to the lightest touch. A good Austria will usually insist on it and mistrust you if you’re not readily agreeable. You can try to offer the slightest, politest objection by noting you’d rather move to UKR to get to RUM, and see if they bite (note that a clever Austria will read this press as a suggestion that MOS is headed to STP).
Italy: ah Italy, the fairest friend, hopefully. When playing Russia, my most eager messages go to Italy. Why? The alliance between Russia and Italy, the “Wintergreen,” is arguably the best in the game. While (slightly) less muscular than the Juggernaut, it offers the advantage of increased subtlety; it can operate effectively for years without definitively signaling to third parties that it exists.
It’s durable; this is a combination you and Italy can play together till Austria and Turkey are dead, at which point you’re both likely having great games and headed into solo runs or at least strong-draw share. Yes, like any alliance, it has to end eventually for you to win, but you may never make it to that point (either of you could go down in the long march between the start of the game and the exhaustion of Wintergreen mutual-interest). If you do reach a point where both you and Italy are solo contenders, then the stabbing probably favors Russia, if Russia has built many armies occupying the center of the board and Italy has built a bunch of fleets.
Wintergreen also solves a lot of your joint problems. Italy’s worst nightmare is getting stuck on four builds and getting left to slowly wither till death administered by a more fortunate neighbor. Russia needs to avoid a strong I/A alliance working to its expense, and might also need to deal with a hostile Turkey (if not playing the juggernaut); an alliance with Italy fixes both. Even better: your and Italy’s moves may not appear coordinated (you both nip at the mass between you), so there’s no immediate need for third parties to form an offsetting alliance with the express purpose of countering you.
The “Wintergreen” has always enjoyed the favor of the Diplomacy community in one form or another, but there are several ways to execute one. Anecdotally, my impression is that the more common flavor sees Italy and Russia working against Turkey early.
The advantage to this version: discretion (it maximizes the Wintergreen’s relative opacity to third parties in the West). It also maximizes Italy's faith in you, since Italy tends to fear Turkey more than Austria. The problem: it involves Italy preserving a friendship with Austria early. This could lead to them choosing Austria over you (the terrible I/A combination, now in vogue), or dragging you into an AIR triple (discussed below).
My preference sacrifices subtlety (some of it, not all of it) for Italy’s early commitment. How? Get Italy to knife Austria with an opening to Tyrolia or Trieste. The pitch to them: immediate builds, versus the multi-turn sailing to Turkey. If they go for it, Italy’s odds of dumping you for Austria will have declined. Turkey will love to see it; oh well, you and Italy can kill Turkey later. Or, another advantage, if things don’t work out with Italy you’ve preserved the option of flipping your allegiance to Turkey while avoiding an early diplomatic brouhaha over the Juggernaut and still getting rid of Austria.
RATs, AIRs: lately alliances between Russia and two of three southern powers (Italy, Austria, Turkey) are in vogue. For whatever reason, the “RIT” has yet to takeoff; maybe that shoe is next to drop. In the RAT or the AIR, Russia and Austria ally with Turkey or Italy (the choice makes the name) and cut out the other, then jointly turn to face the West.
These strategies make sense if facing a Western Triple that appears unlikely to stab itself; in the face of that misfortune Russia should hold onto whatever keeps it alive. They also might make sense for time-limited tournament games. The AIR might also evolve naturally from a failed Wintergreen that sees Italy unwilling to commit against Austria (hence my preference for early anti-Austrian moves when allied with Italy).
All that said, these alliances are mostly suboptimal. Russia ends up watching not one but two strong neighbors develop in the south, where it needs the lion’s share of its growth to reach 18, gets little if any southern gains (IA or AT probably consume everything but Rumania), and the alliance promotes board consolidation (elimination of the cut-out party). Play a RAT or AIR for long and your road to a solo withers.
Germany: Germany makes a good early-game confidant. You have three objectives with Germany early and all benefit from your earnest and friendly engagement.
First, may you have Sweden? Lately, it’s in vogue for Germany to let Russia have it. Note the basic issue here: Germany usually (but not always) moves KIE to DEN in Spring 1901 and has the option of blocking Russia from SWE with DEN in Fall 1901 if Germany chooses.
Debatable if that’s a good idea for Germany, but regardless, do your best to make the case to her that letting you have SWE is in her interest. Promises of eternal friendship, thoughts of building a fleet in STP North Coast if you get Sweden, or (last ditch; promises to cede ground are always better kept as reserve options) a proposal whereby you move to Norway and let Germany have Sweden in 1902. Whatever it takes to get Sweden.
Next, might Germany get after England? Sealion him with France, or pressure him in combination with you, whatever. Your odds of winning Scandinavia increase if Germany and England are not friends. Breakage between them has the happy side-effect of precluding a ruinous Western Triple that might kill you or force you into an AIR or both.
Last, builds: this is situational, but its probably best if Germany builds in Munich and Kiel and not Berlin, and probably (but not necessarily) good if they build a fleet.
Can you make long-run friends with Germany? Anything’s possible in Diplomacy, but realistically the joint odds of Germany and Russia both doing well in a game together are low. You’ll both want Scandinavia. She needs to cross the stalemate line in Warsaw. You’ll likely want to come for him sooner or later. The best case for you is if Germany lets you have Scandinavia and gets bogged down with England or France.
Beware the Spring 1902 or 1903 German push against you. In these years, you’re not yet ready to move on Germany, but she might be ready to eat you if things in the West are placid (do your best to prevent an unfortunate outbreak of Western peace). German attacks usually feature a fleet in Baltic with a unit in Denmark (to take SWE off you), or a dual army push from Munich and Berlin to Silesia and Prussia (to take Warsaw), or both.
France: France is a “natural ally” for Russia; the two countries will not fight directly unless one or both plays an extremely strong game, and they have the option of pinching England or Germany between them. At game start France serves as your most reliable Western confidant. Ideally, you will persuade France to go after England or Germany; either helps you. This isn’t a hard case to make since the alternative (Italy / the Western Triple) isn’t France’s best play.
The trouble is timing; France can plausibly maintain a veneer of friendship with all their neighbors till 1902 and things work better for you if they commit early and make trouble for someone. To the extent you can encourage that, do so.
France might also become your enabler if you play a Juggernaut or other bilateral alliance in the East that has the West in panic; England and Germany sit in your line of fire and have greatest incentive to resist you, but France might see your play as an opportunity to feed on overstretched, distracted neighbors and might choose to make aggressive plays that enable you both rather than joining the resistance. In the event you play a Wintergreen, France has the happy tendency to pressure or at least resist Italy, possibly contributing to your outgrowth in the alliance.
All that said, a Russian player who wants to win should view France as a double-edged sword rather than an unadulterated good. It’s not uncommon for a strong Russia to meet a strong France and be forced into a three way draw with one of Austria/Italy/Turkey (whoever is left alive between them). Sometimes, France’s plays can benefit you more than France, if only because your funnel of expansion is wider (you may make gains North and South, so a France who enables you by say, attacking Germany, might help you outgrow by facilitating Northern builds while your Southern campaign continues unabated).
But while France might (slightly) trail you in growth potential; they make up for it with defensive capability and agility with fleets that may shift to either side of the stalemate line. In other words, in a close contest, its easier for France to deal with any setbacks you might diplomatically engender for them than the reverse.
All this to say, it’s best for you to make friends with France, to coordinate here and there, but its not good for France to actually clear the runway and hit cruising speed. If they do, your risk of getting tied down at the North-South stalemate lines (or worse, getting beat outright) increases.
England: As discussed in Chapter Six, the “Northern Alliance” between Russia and England usually doesn’t work out, because both parties want Scandinavia. But if you strike up a friendship with England, it can solve some problems temporarily (say, if distracted by a hostile Turkey or Austria in the South), and might work to Germany’s disadvantage. Stay open minded! Possibly, England will wind up ostracized by France and Germany and offer you their firstborn in exchange for any minimal help you provide.
The 1901 goal with England for Russia is to avoid an English convoy to Norway, which signals English commitment to Scandinavia. England might trade that away for a promise from you not to move MOS to STP in Spring 1901. Unfortunately, this deal requires you to hold your end up first. I wouldn’t make the proposal as Russia, but might consider it if England makes the offer.
The best case scenario for you is an English move to Channel in Spring 1901. Failing that, a French move to Channel works almost as well: either likely avoids the Norway convoy and leaves Scandinavia tilted toward you at the end of 1901, especially if MOS did go to STP and if Germany lets you into Sweden.
Finally, note that England, though possibly initially hostile, is a reasonable option for midgame pivot if you have diplomatic flexibility to make one. England once Scandinavia is lost might not feel compelled to try to regain it, especially if you do not provoke with fleet builds in STP (NC).
Since Russia has four units Russia likely has the greatest plausible number openings. We’ll only cover a few.
First, the fleet in STP moves to Bothnia. Not Finland, which helps with nothing and sits further from Baltic. Not that it matters much in either case; you’ll need Germany’s acquiescence to get Sweden.
Next, the fleet in Sevastopol probably moves to Black Sea. An alternative, SEV → RUM has several disadvantages. First, the catastrophe that is a Turkish move to Black Sea; if there in Spring 1901 a good Turkey probably won’t rest till they’ve reached Sevastopol, and your odds of holding Rumania itself decline (Turkey may try to take it or might even find themselves able to cut a deal with Austria, who will feel subnormal antipathy toward Turkey if Turkey seems to have committed against you). Possibly, Turkey’s Black Sea move comes also with a move to Armenia, and Sevastopol might fall in Fall, along with your hopes of doing well in the game.
The second problem with a move to Rumania: now you hold Rumania with a fleet, not an army, and are kneecapped against Austria. Maybe you paired this with a move to Galicia from Warsaw (“the Austrian attack”), most likely bounced and of dubious value even if successful.
Yes, Russia can recover from this position; but why chance it?
One plausible option for SEV → RUM, the “Rumanian Opening,” pairs SEV → RUM with MOS → SEV and WAR → UKR. This opening makes sure of Rumania without offending anyone; you can follow it up later with moves into Austria (swapping RUM’s fleet out for an army at some soon juncture) or moves against Turkey (possibly even a fleet build in SEV in Winter).
This opening makes sense for a competitive match where Spring 1901 press leaves you uncertain. At least you likely get a build, possibly two if Germany feels generous, and begin 1902 with a strong defensive position and without having made enemies. The disadvantage: you’ve committed most of your units South (ignoring the strategic needs of the North) and risk Austria in GAL and either Turkey in the Black Sea or juggernaut alarms at an early juncture (fall 1901) should Turkey not move BLA.
Let’s say you decline the SEV → RUM option and move SEV → BLA. What now?
You could also move MOS → SEV and WAR → UKR. This “Turkish attack” probably achieves little in the current meta. Half your moves likely bounce when Turkey also moves BLA.
Further, you likely can’t spend WAR on UKR because in most games, Austria will insist on a bounce in Galicia (and if they do not, then perhaps you are best off with a move there).
The “Octopus,” Richard Sharp’s favorite opening[27], pairs SEV → BLA with MOS → STP and WAR → GAL. In this opening, Russia both defends and expands in all directions. You’ve bounced Austria in GAL (or got there), bounced Turkey in BLA (or got there), pressured England early in the North (who must commit two fleets to be sure of Norway now), and can take RUM with SEV if GAL bounces.
This opening does most things right: you won’t lose ground if attacked by Turkey, you’ve made a start on the critical goal of winning Scandinavia, and you still have a reasonable chance at RUM. The disadvantage: you might provoke a convoy to Norway from England (if they weren’t planning that already) and you may find yourself without RUM if Turkey or Austria foil you. I think this opening makes sense, but does better if you are reasonably sure of Austria’s early friendship (even better if reasonably sure of Austria *and* Turkey’s friendship). A friend makes taking RUM more likely. It’s also a strong opening if you expect someone to move to Channel.
A more conservative version: SEV → BLA, MOS → STP, WAR → UKR. Here, you gain greater surety on RUM, but have problems with WAR if Austria went GAL. Since Austria probably does go GAL; this move doesn’t achieve much, but if you really hit it off with Austria and want to chance a GAL DMZ to cement an alliance, this is one way to do it.
Next up, the most popular opening, the “Southern Defense” comprised of MOS → UKR, WAR → GAL, SEV → BLA. This opening also appears inoffensive, especially if the GAL move was agreed to by Austria, as it usually is. You’ve again bounced Turkey in Black Sea, and again have leverage on RUM. RUM isn’t guaranteed, but Austria and Turkey in this situation both might feel queasy about taking the sorts of risks that might keep you out. The disadvantage: as with any opening that does not see MOS → STP, you’ve passed up a shot at early leverage up North.
For most players, new or advanced, the Southern Defense, Octopus, and Rumanian openings probably constitute an adequate portfolio.
You might play other combinations, if brave and inventive. I recommend against Spring 1901 moves into Germany (WAR → SIL or PRU). Russia plays that from time to time, usually to both Germany and Russia’s detriment.
1. Back to the beginning: you really do play two countries, divided by the stalemate line. Think about who likes and dislikes you, how much you can chew at one time, and whether your commitment in terms of units matches up with the commitments you’ve either made or been forced into diplomatically. You do not (especially in early years) have the muscle to fight a heavy engagement on both fronts; if that starts to materialize, find someone willing to make a peace and cut a deal with them.
2. Unlike most countries, you’re not under pressure to build fleets early. Fleet STP North Coast is a risk that probably isn’t worth it, early on (the only thing it can do that other builds cannot do is threaten mainland England, and Britain’s a long way for a sub-ten-center Russia to stretch for).
You can win the game with a single fleet in the South, and a handful (three can do it, even two) in the North. In 1901, and often 1902, it might be better and more flexible to build armies; these can defend your interior whereas an all-too-common demise for Russia sees Germany move PRU and SIL immediately after Russia has built fleet STP North Coast. You are a paper tiger in the early years; army builds discourage land attacks (and encourage Germany to fight someone else, advantaging you). Early army builds can still further any campaign you choose to pursue, including one in the North (for example, an army build can slide into Scandinavia while SWE drops into BAL or SKA).
Most players do not prefer to play Austria, or Austria-Hungary on the formal Avalon Hill gameboard. Reviews of game statistics suggest Austria has the second-worst solo win rate (behind everyone save Italy), the highest elimination rate and the lowest draw rate. A reasonable review of available data suggests that if you’ve drawn Austria, then with 60-70% chance, you will die.[28]
Why is that? Austria sits between four powers (Turkey, Italy, Russia, and Germany, in rough order of dangerousness), has no defensive seas, and occupies a fertile and “busy” area of the board. Twelve centers lie within two moves (one game year’s movement) of Austria’s home centers, counting those home centers. The geographical setup leaves Austria the probable victim of neighborly avarice.
That said, if you’ve drawn Austria, don’t despair. I actually like Austria, because at least it’s time efficient. I haven’t seen statistics to verify this, but anecdotally, if you die, it tends to be a quick and dignified execution, rather than the lengthy exsanguination that other powers are subjected to. And if you do not pass quickly, then the sky’s the limit: the same geographical nakedness that has you on the rack early becomes your mid- and late-game strength; you may find that you advance on multiple axes, picking up three builds a year. Median time to Austrian solo victory is 10-11 years, edging out every other power save Russia.[29]
Should you survive the early years as Austria, you might also find that you have the better of any alliance pairing. Each of your neighbors usually desires to build early fleets (Italy, Turkey), or must dedicate units to far-off areas of the board (Russia). As a result, no one tends to match your concentrated land army position in the southern half of the map. So, the tactics of stab-risk in any bilateral pairing favors you. The caveat is that you’ll have to negotiate skillfully to avoid a pile-on whenever you make a move against a neighbor; more than the average power, Austria relies on skillful diplomacy to stay alive.
Assuming you do stay alive, stay focused on what it takes to win; closing out a game as Austria can be difficult because so many of the centers you require (Tunis, the home centers of Italy and Turkey) are relatively inaccessible for a ground army. My experience: Austrias end up drawing where they could have won because they underbuild fleets (difficult, and always controversial, given your single, poorly-placed port in Trieste) and because they sign on to alliances popular in the current metagame (I/A, RATs, AIRs) that are nevertheless bad ideas, at least for more than a few seasons.
For some countries, you can imagine a flowchart that explains the best route to victory (Russia: win the North → else). That’s not the case with Austria. Every turn you’ll have the option of pushing in almost any direction and face the risk of experiencing a push from any neighbor. All too often, conflicting promises from neighbors will leave you sure someone is lying, but not sure who.
The “East”, gamespeak for the southeastern side of the main stalemate line, including Italy, Turkey, Austria, and most of Russia, feels more treacherous than the “West” (England, Germany and France). Once the West decides which of the trio they’re cutting out, the survivors might stick with each other for half a game or longer. Alliances in the East have shorter half-lives, perhaps because there are more units in the East (twelve starting units versus ten in the West), and fewer neutral centers for those units to pursue (five versus seven).
This matters to you as Austria because you, as the most-adjacent player to the fertile concentration of centers in the Balkans, are the epicenter of all the scheming; either as victim or victimizer.
How do you navigate this? The first challenge is deciding who to trust. For that, focus on the core element of “diplomacy” in Diplomacy, and think carefully about your neighbors’ incentives. Who is who’s worst problem? Who wants to go where? If they don’t eat you, what must others do, and are their moves consistent with that? What do you imagine a player is writing to each of his or her neighbors?
You need to repeat this analysis not just at the start of any relationship, but every turn; because again, stabs in the East are common and you should not be blind to the imminence of one just because your neighbor has been kind and is a smooth talker. Give greater weight to moves and positioning on the board than to promises. Check out the “psychology and guessing” subheading above: in that game, I played Austria. Even though I was at least analytically aware that Italy’s best move was stabbing me, I allowed the depth of our talks leading up to that point to lull me to sleep and took a knife soon after.
Aside from navigating betrayal, there’s a few generalized goals to shoot for. The first: try to win most of the Balkan centers (Serbia, Greece, Rumania, Bulgaria). Your borders do not materially expand by taking them (they lever your tactical position; you get more units without adding commitments). If you do not get them, someone else will and that player, not you, becomes the strongest player on your side of the stalemate line and likely precludes your solo.
Second, avoid alliances against you. This sounds obvious, right? Still, failure on this point is the proximate cause of many Austrian deaths. If you’re nice and persuasive, pax Austria in 1901 is doable: killing you, even if relatively easy, isn’t anyone’s (except maybe Turkey’s) top priority. In a vacuum, Italy’s kill list is topped by Turkey. Russia is distracted by the North, is also more afraid of Turkey than you, and might be tempted by the A/R pairing popular in the current meta. Turkey, while perhaps preferring to kill you more than others, is often desperate for friends and wants Italy dead almost as much as they want you dead.
You should recognize these dynamics and do your best to capitalize on them; if you don’t upset anyone, there’s a fair chance that they all seek to kill each other in partnership with you. Your early-game position also does not require you to anger anyone; its easy enough to frame all your moves as defensive and no one will debate your claim to Serbia. In other words, you can push off any revelatory moment (that might reveal to your erstwhile confidants who you are supporting) to 1902 if you choose.
Third, build fleets whenever you can. This might mean sacrificing your relationship with Italy; just do it anyway, as soon as it is reasonably feasible to do so while surviving the fallout (not guaranteed, do not wait for guarantees). Fleetless Austrias might top boards but they rarely win games, and if you’re reading this, you are playing to win.
Last, remember your win conditions: your side of the main stalemate line, plus Munich. If you fail to get Tunis (because you didn’t build enough fleets!) you’ll also need Berlin. On very rare occasion, St. Pete might sub in for a missing piece of Italy, but since it may be held indefinitely by two units north of the main stalemate line you cannot count on STP.
Recall the above: Austria tends to die, even though killing Austria isn’t necessarily an immediate priority for Austria’s neighbors in 1901. Recall also the explanation: your lack of defensive seas, the “busyness” of your neighborhood, etc.
Another contributing dynamic is the long-run ambition of all your neighbors; their win conditions require them to pick up all of your centers.
That’s not actually damning though, is it? Most powers in Diplomacy require the centers of their neighbors for a solo. That Austria suffers from this same avarice is not unique.
What is unique to Austria, though, is that a successful Russia, Italy, or Turkey often must target Austria in the midgame, whereas for other countries, their immediate neighbors usually have the option of deferring an attack to late-game (other country’s alliances have longer viability). For Austria’s neighbors, that option doesn’t exist; R/I/T generally need to move on Austria second, if not first. For Austria’s neighbors, there’s almost no plausible path to 18 that doesn’t run through Austria in some order sooner than last.
So, if you have an alliance partner, and you’re both doing well, it might be time to sharpen your knife, because your friend (if they are playing to win) is sharpening hers. If someone must stab, better it be you, hard and first. Probably, you’ll have to do it at a time when you’d rather do something else: your erstwhile allied neighbor is likely to run out of productive things to do with their units before you because they have fewer neighbors and fewer routes of expansion. Fortunately, there is one upshot to all this: as mentioned above, at balanced center counts, no one will match your concentration of armies and you should be able to execute on a stab more easily than one can be executed on you, if you choose to act first.
Of course, if your ally isn’t doing well (is besieged, behind in centers, locked in intractable conflict somewhere) then your stab risk is lower. The foregoing applies only where you’ve both met with success.
Italy: With those delicate topics understood, lets move on to discuss specific relationships, starting with Italy. That requires us to address the current Diplomacy metagame.
Lately, its very common for Austria and Italy to team up against Turkey (an “I/A” pairing in Diplomacy gamespeak). Typically this involves a “Lepanto”-style opening (more on that later) against Turkey, followed by moves against Russia and France, assuming no betrayals.
For Austria, this alliance seemingly sense: it keeps Italy off you, kills off Turkey, and means you’ll survive, provided Italy doesn’t stab you, which you may be able to avoid if you employ enough prophylaxis. Plus, with your concentration of land armies, you’ll retain the ability to stab Italy for whatever he gets out of the Balkans once Turkey’s dead, and even if you can’t do that, you can probably meet the survivors of the West in the middle for a four-way draw before 1910. A nice quick draw! Not bad, given that most Austrias end up six feet under.
Still, there are problems with this pairing: it means Italy gets stronger, and Italy’s difficult enough to kill without extra centers. It may open you up to midgame sandwiching by a Wintergreen, if Russia and Italy are both intact when Turkey dies. Alternatively, it may provoke the juggernaut, which is probably Turkey and Russia’s best option in any universe where Russia believes you and Italy are not stabbing each other.
If a juggernaut occurs the bulk of the fighting falls to you (you must deal with everything Russia commits south, plus some portion of Turkey’s units; Italy must contend only with Turkey’s fleets) which means Italy may outgrow you after doing less work (and you can already hear him asking for Greece). Absent some intervention from the West, the juggernaut likely stalemates you (if it doesn’t kill you outright). To make matters worse, Western countries will feel less pressure to intervene when a strong I/A exists to stall the R/T.
If Italy does play aggressively, you may see a midgame stab from him before Turkey’s corpse is cold. Note that after Turkey dies, Italy’s choices include a) sailing for France (slow, difficult, requires extending his borders and fighting France, neither of which is attractive), or B) stabbing you for immediate gain as you fight Russia, a conflict you’ll be embarking on, if you are faithful to the I/A in the midgame, and if you are not bogged down with Russia already.
Finally, an alliance with Italy means not building fleets, which means not winning the game. Your conflict with him needs to occur early enough for you to build the two (minimum) or three-plus (more likely) fleets necessary to lock down your half of the map. Note that a competent Italy will almost certainly make your never building a fleet a condition of your friendship with him.
I think these I/A alliances tend to be motivated by players “settling” for survival after a difficult country draw: “Ach, I’ve drawn [Italy/Austria], I’ll just try to muddle through and hope for draw.” Also, by tournament meta, in which (see above) solos are precluded. In a world where no one is going to win, the I/A is fine. But in a world where you aim to win, you likely shouldn’t play one for long.
That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make nice with Italy early, of course. Just recognize this relationship isn’t one that will last forever. Try not to give him Balkan centers; if he does demand one, insist it be taken with a fleet (at least then he can’t stab as effectively). Do your best to remain cordial with at least one other neighbor so you have a pivot option when you stab him, first.
And, be wary of the first turn. We’ll talk openings soon, but, one common way for Austrias to die is to make clear to Italy that Trieste is open for the taking, and for Italy to accept the invitation, either with a direct move to Trieste or with a move to Tyrolia in Spring 1901.
<Note 6/21/22: subsection incomplete>
<Note 6/21/22: subsection incomplete>
[1] On WebDiplomacy, a search for finished classic map, rulebook or regular press, 70%+ reliability rating, one excused missed turn games yields 275 solo victories and 675 draws from 2015 to August 2021 (29% solo win rate).
[2] https://grantland.com/features/diplomacy-the-board-game-of-the-alpha-nerds/
[3] http://www.diplomacy-archive.com/god.htm
[4] Current solo rates (~30% per note 1, much less in tournament play) are below 50%+ winrates previously analyzed (see http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/F2007R/Burton/statistician3.htm). The delta may reflect modern attempts to control for NMR and CD, but may also reflect changes to game meta over time.
[5] This work’s secondary purpose is to document what I should but routinely fail to do during Diplomacy games.
[6] See Josh Burton’s work finding full-press solo-victory median game length near eleven years, at http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/F2007R/Burton/statistician3.htm. Note in an NMR-less game, average length may be higher.
[7] Stephen Agar wrote a comprehensive treatment of the 1971 rulebook revision here: http://www.diplomacy-archive.com/resources/postal/1971_rulebook.htm
[8] http://www.diplomacy-archive.com/resources/strategy/articles/more_about_convoys.htm
[12] A good description of stalemate positions that may form around the main stalemate line: https://brotherbored.com/gunboat-diplomacy-stalemate-lines/
[13] These comments rely in part on game experience and in part on this work: http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/F2007R/Burton/statistician3.htm
[14] See Josh Burton’s The Statistician series; links in the Appendix.
[15] http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/W1995A/Self/hof.html
[16] https://brotherbored.com/gunboat-diplomacy-journal-intro/
[17] https://brotherbored.com/diplomacy/gunboat-solo-win-intro/
[18] https://onedrive.live.com/view.aspx?cid=3199CD9857175D9F&resid=3199CD9857175D9F%21176
[19] http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/F2007R/Burton/statistician3.htm. Note this data is old and makes no correction for NMRs, so all winrates are overstated versus competitive online press today.
[20] Except maybe the E-F pairing; more later.
[21] http://www.diplomacy-archive.com/resources/strategy/articles/hey_bresto.htm
[22] A Mar S Par → Bur is a common French opening and “meta” in Gunboat play. Lately, Germanies tend to passively accept this. More later.
[23] See https://onedrive.live.com/view.aspx?cid=3199CD9857175D9F&resid=3199CD9857175D9F%21176; see also http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/F2007R/Burton/statistician3.htm.
[24] id.
[25] http://uk.diplom.org/pouch/Zine/W1995A/Self/tables.html
[26] https://onedrive.live.com/view.aspx?cid=3199CD9857175D9F&resid=3199CD9857175D9F%21176
[27] http://www.diplomacy-archive.com/resources/god/six.htm