Freedom Flotilla Imprisoned

The overnight storming by Israeli forces of the of the Mavi Marmara passenger ferry, which was leading a six ship flotilla loaded with peace activists and aid supplies, and with the announced intention of running the Israeli naval blockade of Gaza, has provoked widespread condemnation of the Israeli action, which resulted in at last report sixteen deaths and the impounding of all the ships in the flotilla. This is very likely precisely what the backers of this rather transparent attempt to provoke Israel were hoping would occur.

Israel as a regional power has time and again proven itself too strong to confront successfully in open warfare. From the War of Independence in 1947-8 to the conflicts with its neighbors in 1956, 1967, 1973, 1978, 1982, and 2006, Israel's military has shown itself to be highly effective. It outclasses its rivals in virtually every measurable category of military competence. So its enemies have done what those who find themselves overmatched usually do: they have changed their approach to minimize the strengths of the their rival while maximizing their own ability to act. This is a typical strategy of insurgencies: create conditions that weaken the stronger power over time by seizing the initiative and presenting a set of choices that leave the dominant power no good options. Inevitably, when pushed, the stronger power must act or surrender its position, but the consequences of even the best option serve to weaken it indirectly, usually in the eyes of the international community. As noted by Sun Tzu, "(t)hose skilled at making the enemy move do so by creating a situation to which he must conform."

The Free Gaza Movement, which organized the so-called "Freedom Flotilla", has taken measures to ensure maximum international discomfort for the Israelis. Not only has it placed Israel in the difficult position of either abrogating its own blockade, which would undermine its claims of legitimacy, or using force to halt ostensibly peaceful protest, which seems like substantial overreaction. Further, two of the ships it has employed in this effort are U.S.-registered and -flagged, which, as the FGM press release of 30 May 2010 notes, "means they are U.S. territory." Clearly trying to deepen the already significant rift between the United States and Israel, the document goes on to state that "we expect the U.S. government to intervene if U.S. property is wrongly confiscated by Israeli authorities as they have threatened" and encourages readers to contact the U.S. State Department.

Strategically, FGM has succeeded in further isolating Israel and minimizing the value of those measures of power that make it dominant in the region. What remains unclear, however, is what other groups or powers may have had a hand in this. The most compelling question is to what extent Turkey was involved. Relations between Turkey and Israel have been in rapid decline of late, and it is worth noting that FGM is based on Cyprus, from where the ships sailed, and that most of the activists aboard were reportedly Turks (the originally planned point of departure was the Greek side of the island, where Greek members of parliament were scheduled to embark but prevented from doing so by their government). Even if the Turkish government had no direct involvement whatsoever, its relations with Israel will likely be among the most directly and negatively affected by this confrontation.

For all of its tactical and operational dominance, Israel's hands are strategically tied by the ease with which its opponents can employ a far greater array of non-military options to force Israel to respond militarily or to acquiesce politically. Targeted terrorism and indiscriminate rocket attacks by Hamas and Hezbollah serve a similar function, though with neither the finesse nor the effectiveness of ostensibly peaceful political resistance.

Whither the frigate?

In the first half of the 19th Century, navies relied upon the frigate as a jack-of-all-trades: the sort of ship that could scout for the fleet, engage in commerce escort or raiding, and sail to distant and remote points around the globe to protect the national interest by engaging the navies of lesser powers, landing military forces to resolve matters ashore, or simply showing the flag. The sort of ship tasked with these diverse roles has changed over the years with the evolution of new technologies and terminology; the frigate was replaced by the cruiser (and to a lesser extent the gunboat) in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. These ships were often not possessed of the most modern technology - ships-of-the-line and the battleships that superseded them generally received the most modern guns and later propulsion systems - but they remained vital because of their versatility and the fact that they could be produced in numbers far greater than the staggeringly expensive larger units.


The Second World War and its aftermath suggested that the need for such ships had past; massive fleets, centered on carrier battle groups and supported by aviation and submarines, were now required to provide both survivable force and meaningful capability. The diffusion of technology to the Third World after the war suggested that a single ship alone, no matter how capable, would be a potential liability rather than an asset. The rapid advances of the Cold War era supported this interpretation of the strategic shift: as new technology drove costs ever higher, it paradoxically also enabled poorer nations to acquire capabilities that, while not on the cutting edge, offered conditions far closer to parity with the Great Powers than had been the case in the previous century. Cold War politics further encouraged this trend, as the Superpowers supported their allies with ever more capable weapons systems. One need only contrast the various 20th Century wars in former colonial battlegrounds like the Middle East, Africa, India, and Southeast Asia with their 19th Century precursors to understand how radically the playing field had been leveled.


The strategic situation today, however, is in some ways regressing toward that of the 19th Century. The bipolarity of the Cold War is gone, as are in large part the mass armies that made possible the total wars of the first half of the 20th Century. The historically more common state of international competition in a shifting multipolar system is once again emerging, as the United States, China, and Russia, joined in a fashion by Europe (as led by Germany and France), Britain, India, and Japan, are moving away from the relative stasis of their Cold War relationships and instead acting to more directly assert themselves in the protection of their own interests.


While the armed forces are certainly not the only, or even the primary, means of protecting national interest, they are a necessary component of the equation; without both the presence of useful military capability and the national will to employ it, national interests remain secure only by the continued acquiescence of one's rivals - rather a precarious condition. It should come as no surprise then that the reversion of the international political order to competitive multipolarity will require a significant shift in the military options with which nations provide themselves.


This has already been underway for some time. The obvious elements - reductions in nuclear arsenals, major combat units such as ballistic missile submarines and aircraft carriers, heavy ground forces (especially armor and artillery) - have been apparent in the U.S. and Russian militaries for well over a decade. Other powers are acting differently, dependent upon their circumstances: Europe is reducing its capabilities due to cost and the apparent belief that military force is of ever-decreasing utility, while China is streamlining its forces while developing new capabilities as it seeks to extend its international influence. In all of the Great Powers, the current conventional wisdom suggests that a combination of technology and doctrinal flexibility will compensate for the reduction in numbers.


Technology does indeed offer remarkable new options to precisely apply military force quickly and over an increasingly large area, while reducing the manpower required to do so. This has tremendous benefits in the current casualty-averse political and social environment so prevalent, especially in the West. New doctrines developed to employ these new technologies in current military circumstances may indeed further reduce the human costs of war.


But technology is increasingly costly. Reductions in manpower and the numbers of planes and ships has driven per-unit costs to astonishing heights as engineers and planners seek to build all the diverse capabilities for which they perceive a need into an ever-smaller number of units operated by an ever-smaller number of men. The paradox here is that, as the value of each unit rises, the willingness to use it (and potentially lose it) diminishes. Thus the seemingly tactical and technical questions of design and doctrine increasingly weigh on strategic decision-making. The dreadnought building programs of Britain and Germany in the years preceding the First World War, and the subsequent unwillingness to employ and risk these incredibly costly vessels (the fleets met in only a single major engagement, at Jutland in 1916; Germany turned increasingly to submarines as its primary naval weapons, while Britain employed a distant blockade of German ports), is but one example of how cost influences strategy.


The frigates and cruisers of the 19th and early 20th Centuries offered their respective owners options that more valuable fleet units did not. No Great Power of that time would risk a modern battleship in anything less than a full-scale war with another Great Power; to do so would not only require dividing the fleet, creating a strategic vulnerability, but the ramifications of the loss of a unit that might take years to replace at tremendous cost were politically, militarily, and economically dangerous.


So it is today. The fleets of the Great Powers are now but a faint shadow of those of the 20th Century; from the hundreds and even thousands of ships that comprised the navies of that time, the number of blue-water naval combatants in most fleets can be counted in the dozens. The ships that should be filling the traditional role of the frigate or cruiser - the modern destroyer is the closest analog - are so few that there are simply not enough to adequately perform the myriad roles in which they might prove useful. Consider the current situations which might benefit from an increased American naval presence: the looming crisis in Korea; the growing concern about China's naval and economic power; piracy in the waters off Somalia; the Iranian nuclear standoff; and perhaps even the ongoing turmoil in Jamaica. Add to these fleet duties, natural disaster response, search and rescue, patrolling shipping lanes, port calls, and all the various other tasks these ships may be called upon to perform, and it seems fairly optimistic to consider the 56 destroyers currently on the U.S. Navy's active list adequate. (It should be noted that the U.S. Navy still operates some 30 Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigates, but these ships were designed as primarily anti-submarine warfare types, and the last one was produced in 1989).


More problematic, though, is their design and cost. While incredibly capable ships, it seems rather inappropriate to send a modern American Arleigh Burke-class destroyer, equipped with 90 vertically-launched missiles and costing close to a billion dollars to produce, to chase down a dozen Somali pirates equipped with AK-47s and RPGs, or to provide a Marine security detachment to assist Jamaican police in restoring order (the disorder having been caused by a U.S. extradition request), or to provide logistical support to a disaster relief effort. Yet these are precisely the sort of missions that the U.S. Navy is called upon to perform. The majority of the capabilities of its only class of destroyers are utterly unnecessary to successfully fulfill these missions. Other navies face similar situations, though perhaps not as frequently as the U.S.; nonetheless, would not the anti-piracy effort in the Indian Ocean be more effective with twice as many less-capable ships? Would not the navies of the Great Powers be more willing to meaningfully commit their forces to non-controversial international missions if the costs were not so high?


The problem is far from new. Julian Corbett, in his classic Some Principles of Maritime Strategy (1911), identified a similar problem afflicting the Royal Navy: "What Nelson felt for was a battleship of cruiser speed. What Strachan desired was a cruiser fit to take part in a fleet action. We have them both, but with what result?...Battleships grade into armoured cruisers, armoured cruisers into protected cruisers. We can scarcely detect any real distinction except a twofold one between vessels whose primary armament is the gun and vessels whose primary armament is the torpedo." Today the distinction is even more faint: virtually every surface vessel employs missiles as its primary armament. Corbett's query was not answered, but was instead rendered largely irrelevant by the change in strategic conditions beginning in 1914 and only properly coming to a close in 1991. As fleets grew, organized into large task forces centered first on battleships and later aircraft carriers, the distinctions changed as primary missions became narrower and ever more focused on fleet engagements and total war. With ships in abundance, specialization became the norm. Only as the numbers drew down significantly did Corbett's question regain its relevance.


The world today bears closer strategic resemblance to the volatile years before the First World War than to most of the 20th Century, and as such it would be wise for policymakers to consider that the political framework in which they operate will dictate how they employ their military options. Ground and air warfare have already seen significant adjustments as the result of recent experience. Naval operations have been few and far between; naval forces, however, remain busier than ever. Drones cannot deliver humanitarian assistance; infantry is not well-suited to demonstrating diplomatic resolve. It falls to the navies of the world to form the closest visible link between national policy and military power, yet navies have changed the least in constitution and doctrine since the end of the Cold War. Corbett put it succinctly: "On cruisers depends the exercise of control; on the battle-fleet depends the security of control." The security of control was at great risk during much of the 20th Century, but that risk has since diminished. What presents a far greater problem in the current strategic environment is exercising control across the vast spaces of the world's oceans and littorals, in no small part for the want of a suitable number of suitable vessels and the political will to use them.

The North Korea Conundrum

The rapidly escalating crisis begun by the sinking of the South Korean naval vessel Cheonan on 26 March by a North Korean submarine presents interested powers with a difficult set of choices. It seems increasingly clear that, while there is public agreement that some sort of retaliatory response is necessary, there are few good options for doing so. The announced joint anti-submarine exercises between the U.S. and South Korea offer the prospect for some good news footage, and perhaps a means to move these forces to a higher state of readiness without being overtly aggressive, but do little to resolve the underlying problem. Similarly, cutting economic and diplomatic ties with the North means nothing without the full inclusion of China, which has provided the lifeline by which North Korea has managed to endure for this long.


A closer examination of the objectives of the various involved powers suggests that little will change. It is not in the strategic interests of any of these countries to go to war, the successful prosecution of which is likely the only method by which anything approaching permanent resolution is possible. The continuation of the division of Korea, the tensions between North and South, and the relationship between the two Great Powers most closely involved - China and the United States - preserves the status quo in the region. While this is not desired by the U.S. or the South Koreans, they do not hold the strategic initiative; the North Koreans do, and for them the status quo represents the best of a very poor set of options.


For North Korea, the maintenance of tension with external threats is necessary for the preservation of the regime. Like all totalitarian states, the government identifies the need to protect the nation from such threats as the justification for its unilateral control. Absent such danger, no rationale for the continued dominance of the state over the people would exist, threatening to unravel the regime. The North must therefore foment tension periodically as a means to demonstrate to its own population the reason they are suffering privation and isolation.


China's interest in the Korean situation is significant but indirect. While there is virtually no chance of a repeat of the experience of the winter of 1950-1, when hundreds of thousands of Chinese "volunteers" were sent to fight on behalf of the North, China recognizes that the collapse of the North Korean regime would result in a Korean state aligned with the U.S. on its border. Given China's expanding strategic reach as seen in its continued economic and naval expansion, any improvement in the position of the U.S. in the Far East, whether in the growth of its allies or a reduction in tensions that allows it to focus greater attention on China would be most unwelcome.


Recognizing that neither China nor North Korea has any real interest in resolving the situation, the United States and South Korea must accept that their real options are quite limited. Short of war, which is certainly considered the most undesirable outcome, but which is ironically the one that could actually bring the decades-old standoff to a conclusion, there is little to be done. Further isolation and military vigilance plays into the hands of the North Korean regime by reinforcing the security rationale put forward by its leaders. The Chinese will continue to supply the North with as much as it needs to survive, but nothing more, ensuring that attempts at economic isolation will fail while preserving China's ability to manipulate the situation as its interests dictate.


The key then is China's strategic interest. It has no desire to see any increase in U.S. power and influence in Asia; resolution of the Korean situation would do just that. For its part, the United States must recognize that China does not wish to resolve the situation in any way that is not explicitly beneficial to its own interests. Reunification and peace may seem universally desirable to many in the U.S. and South Korea, but the views from Pyongyang and Beijing are decidedly less rose-colored.

Book Review: H.P. Willmott, The First Century of Sea Power, Vol. I: From Port Arthur to Chanak, 1894-1922

H.P. Willmott. The First Century of Sea Power, Vol. I: From Port Arthur to Chanak, 1894-1922. Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 2009. Xviii + 543 pp. $34.95.


As the first volume of three, this work sets a very high bar for both Willmott's second and third installments. Indeed, such is the quality of the author's analysis and writing that it is difficult to imagine another who could so seamlessly offer such incisive commentary in such an accessible form.


Following the useful introductory piece, Willmott proceeds to discuss every naval conflict in the period, from the Sino-Japanese War to the end of the series events that evolved from the First World War. Included herein are some little-known wars, notably the Greco-Turkish War of 1897 and the naval components of the Balkan Wars of 1912-3. Naturally, the World War receives extensive coverage, but the number of pages devoted to lesser conflicts is impressive. The narrative is followed by a detailed 72-page chronology of the First World War at sea; this is a very useful resource in its own right to students of the subject.


Willmott's research is exhaustive. The select bibliography gives only a small sense of the material consulted; a more meaningful measure of it can be found in the extensive endnotes and the appendices that follow some chapters. For example, the chapter on the First World War in the Atlantic is followed by no fewer than eight appendices, which include detailed narrative discussions of the actions at Heligoland, Coronel, the Falkland Islands, Dogger Bank, and Jutland, each of which in turn offers details of all the individual ships known to be involved, including auxiliaries, and a brief discussion of the action and results, as well as analysis specific to the battle in question. The remaining four appendices offer extensive statistical evidence on the German submarine effort against maritime trade and the convoy system employed to combat it, along with further analytical comments. All told, these comprise thirty-four pages of densely-packed information.


The reader is presented with this wealth of information in a somewhat unusual form. Chapters are generally brief, focusing on developing a specific argument without burdening the narrative with collections of evidence that might otherwise distract from the point of primary focus. This is a very effective method of organization, and Willmott's insightful commentary is thus afforded the clarity it deserves. When one proceeds to the aforementioned appendices and the extensive collection of largely explanatory endnotes, the depth of the evidence supporting his analysis is readily apparent.


Criticisms of this volume are minor. The level of assumed knowledge is quite high, so readers without some background in the era and specialty will likely find themselves a bit lost from time to time as Willmott moves easily (and often without notice) between topics. Context will provide sufficient explanation in many cases, given careful reading, but this is not an introductory volume. The maps included are perhaps a bit general and slightly below the current standard, and are often oriented in directions other than the usual true north, making them less intuitive, albeit only initially.


In all, Willmott has produced an extraordinary volume. His analysis is clear, well-supported, sometimes unconventional but always compelling. This book, and certainly the two volumes that follow it, will remain landmark studies of Twentieth Century naval warfare.

Welcome

Welcome to STRATEGICON. We hope to offer interesting and insightful commentary on issues broadly related to strategy, both historical and current. We hope you find it thought-provoking.