Does Strategy Matter?

 

Dov S. Zakheim

 

Speech to the

National Defense University Joint Symposium

“Meeting Key U.S. Defense Planning Challenges”

 

November 16, 2004


 

It is a pleasure to be here again.  I have always enjoyed attending these conferences: as a young analyst, it was a thrill to interact with the likes of Brent Scowcroft, and to get to know other young students of strategy such as Steve Hadley. Now that I have added weight, lost hair, and served twice in the Pentagon since those early days, I still find these events to be stimulating, indeed exciting, and always thought provoking.

 

I am once again a private businessman, so permit me to go immediately to my bottom line: of course strategy matters.  A country without a strategy is a country adrift. People may or may not agree with a particular strategy, but such disagreements do not obviate the need for one.

 

At times, previous administrations were accused of failing to have a coherent national security strategy, or for that matter, a coherent military strategy—the two are not the same, of course.  In fact, a more accurate criticism, particularly in the early post-Cold War period, was that the United States continued to cling to an outmoded grand strategy, which drove an obsolescent military strategy; neither had fundamentally changed since the aftermath of the Second World War.

 

Both strategies were built upon three key pillars. The first was a web of alliances around the world that supported large-scale forward deployments in Europe and East Asia. The second was the expectation that American forces would likely confront two major conflicts simultaneously, and that in the case of both of those conflicts, not only would the enemy have to be repelled, but it would be necessary to dismantle his entire governing structure. This model was of course, derived from America’s World War II experience with Germany and Japan.

 

Finally, the third pillar was that of mutual assured destruction (MAD). This was a more recent pillar, one that developed after the Soviet Union emerged as a sufficiently capable nuclear power as to render massive retaliation a meaningless concept. Nevertheless, MAD, as it came to be called, was a legacy of the McNamara era—and as such, endured for over three decades.

 

It was only with the election of President Bush in 2000, and the publication of the Quadrennial Defense Review and then the National Security Strategy, that the United States seriously altered each of those three pillars. Moreover, it added two others: a focus on homeland security and defense, and a major new approach to the employment of Special Forces.

 

Before I discuss how each of these pillars was altered, however, it is important to note what was not changed—namely, the determination to take pre-emptive action against an enemy that was preparing to strike the United States.  It is true that many observers, both in the United States and abroad, argued that this “pre-emptive strategy” not only was new, but was the most blatant divergence from previous American strategy. In fact, the United States had always reserved for itself the right to a first strike.

 

America had consistently refused attempts to get it to commit itself formally to “no first use” of nuclear weapons, in part because the first use of those weapons was a cornerstone of its strategic deterrent against a conventional attack in Europe. Moreover, the United States had often taken pre-emptive military action even when its own forces could hardly be said to be at serious risk: from Lebanon in 1958 to Panama in 1989, and many times in between, the United States deployed its forces for reasons other than a direct attack on its troops.

 

What the national security strategy did was to make explicit what had previously been implicit. Perhaps that in itself was a change of strategy, or at least of declarative strategy. Yet that change was motivated by factors that also contributed to other major changes in American strategy, to which I will now turn.

 

Forward Posture, Allies, and Coalitions

 

Since the end of the Second World War, and as a legacy of that war, the United States maintained large concentrations of forces in Western Europe, notably Germany, and in East Asia. East Asian forces were primarily maritime, with significant land forces in Japan. In the aftermath of the Korean War, the United States retained the Eighth Army on the Peninsula.

 

These forces represented not only a deterrent against aggression by the Soviet Union, the People’s Republic of China, and North Korea, but also served as a symbol of America’s commitment to her nato and East Asian allies. NATO, ANZUS, Japan, Philippines and Thailand formed the bedrock of America’s alliance structure for five decades, even though, in practice, those alliances were not always mobilized to support American interests. Indeed, NATO in particular was often driven by major disputes, whether over nuclear forces in Europe, or America’s policies in the Middle East. Nevertheless, the threat from the communist world, coupled with the military presence that allowed some countries to limit their defense spending even in the face of that threat, provided the glue that held the alliances together for more than five decades.

 

The war to liberate Kuwait, the first major international conflict after the Cold War ended, provided some models for a new approach to American grand strategy, as well as for its alliance strategy in particular. The United States did not call upon NATO to support its prosecution of Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. Instead, it mobilized an ad hoc coalition of allies, some of which were treaty allies, many of which were not, but all of which were concerned about the long term political, military and economic implications of Saddam Hussein’s aggressive expansionism. Both the war and the successful American effort to have others contribute to covering its costs demonstrated that ad hoc coalitions were an important supplement to formal alliances, and indeed, could serve in place of such alliances in a variety of circumstances. That coalitions could serve this purpose did not imply that alliances were meaningless or useless. Rather the 1991 coalition demonstrated that alliances were not a necessary condition for the successful conduct of an American-led multinational military effort, and that the American attachment to, and reliance upon, all members of those alliances—as opposed to the alliances as a whole—might not be as imperative as it had been during the Cold War. Put bluntly, if a NATO member felt that it did not want to support American policy outside NATO, the United States no longer felt compelled to cater to that country’s interests to the extent that it had during the Cold War, in effect burying whatever differences existed outside the context of the long-standing confrontation with the Soviet Union.

 

Operation Desert Storm also highlighted the importance of establishing a more diversified American presence outside the Western European and East Asian theaters. To be sure, America had long deployed some forces to the Gulf, both naval forces headquartered in Bahrain, and some units in Saudi Arabia. Part of the Gulf War’s legacy, however, was a large land and air force build-up on the Arabian Peninsula, both to deter any future aggression and to maintain the southern no-fly zone over Iraq, termed Operation Southern Watch. Even as the United States increased its Middle East presence, it began to reduce its presence in Western Europe. That shift presaged a much larger change that took place about a decade later, and that itself will soon be overshadowed by a new deployment posture reflecting America’s recognition that its forces must be as flexible and responsive as possible, and require a structure of host facilities that enhances capability. That structure currently is being developed: it reflects America’s need to confront international terrorism in a variety of locales, and seeks to avoid excessive dependence on a particular set of sprawling base structures. The new posture demonstrates that infrastructure and logistics are as important as weapons in promoting strategic flexibility. That is a lesson that has not necessarily been intuitive to strategic decision makers, even if planners understood it well.

 

Fighting on Two Fronts

 

That the United States has long pursued a strategy geared to fighting on two major fronts should come as no surprise. World War II only underscored geography’s legacy to the American strategic equation. As a two-ocean nation it is only natural that we should be concerned about a two front war of some kind. Nevertheless, as the Cold War waned, the retention of that strategy—recast in the mid-1990s as one of fighting two major regional contingencies—became increasingly questionable. It appeared as if the United States simply seemed more comfortable looking backward, that is, planning to fight and win two wars in which it had once fought, namely, Korea and Iraq.

 

Yet it was clear by the end of the 1990s that there were other potential adversaries to consider, all of which might or might not prompt military action simultaneously with ongoing wars that might have already broken out in Korea and Iraq. Both China and Iran sprang immediately to mind as major military adversaries. There was in addition the classic “unforeseen contingency” to consider—the war for which no one had really prepared but which actually was fought.[1]

 

Such unforeseen wars could be large-scale or of a lesser intensity. Indeed, the two contingencies that constituted the crux of the “two Major Regional Conflict (MRC) strategy” had themselves been unforeseen in their time. The 1950 North Korean attack on the South came as a complete surprise to the Truman Administration. Likewise, few in the Bush Administration anticipated that Saddam Hussein would invade Kuwait and prompt the massive military response that was Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm.

 

Nor has America’s record been much better with respect to anticipating small-scale contingencies.  No one had predicted the operations that took place in Grenada (1983), Panama (1989) or Kosovo (1999). Nor did anyone predict that the United States would find itself enmeshed in a war in Afghanistan within a year of the Bush Administration’s taking office.

 

The two-MRC strategy not only constrained thinking about the threats the United States faced; it also hampered innovative transformation of its military capability. If two MRC’s were the primary strategic planning construct, the need for a more flexible, responsive force was more difficult to justify. On the other hand, a capabilities-based approach, that was not scenario dependent, called for versatility, and responsiveness, which in turn demanded maximal use of innovative technologies that enhanced situational awareness, promoted logistic flexibility, and called for joint operations. Such approaches also reduced the overall demand for personnel, and shifted many warfighting burdens, such as operating UAV’s, from “tooth” to “tail,” thereby rendering that classic distinction much less meaningful than in the past.

 

The two-MRC approach also appeared to limit strategic flexibility by fostering the notion that every conflict could only end with regime change. A more nimble, less scenario-driven approach recognized something less than regime change as an acceptable outcome (as was Desert Storm). At the same time, it allowed for presidential decisions to be made regarding regime change in the context of the emerging contingency—as was the case with respect to Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom.

 

Finally, the fixation on two contingencies, both of them overseas, drew attention away from the growing threat to the American homeland, represented not only by the ballistic missile threat, but also by that of international terrorism. The Quadrennial Defense Review’s pre-publication draft in 2001 accounted for this relatively new development.

 

Moving Beyond MAD

 

Despite Ronald Reagan’s launching of the Strategic Defense Initiative in 1983, the long-standing American commitment to Mutual Assured Destruction, and to the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty (ABM), undermined any serious progress in the realm of missile defense. The Bush Administration’s recasting of the strategic triad from one based on three types of offensive strategic nuclear systems to one that incorporated both strategic and conventional weapons as well as both offensive and defensive systems marked a major departure for America’s grand strategy. That this change also represented a radically different approach to relations with Russia was not initially understood by many observers, especially in Europe. Yet Russia accepted, albeit somewhat begrudgingly, the termination of the treaty and missile defense in all its aspects has proceeded apace. Parenthetically, Russian flexibility was not limited to the abrogation of the ABM treaty; few would have predicted that Russia would tolerate NATO membership for the Baltic States. That it has done so testifies to the new strategic relationship that has emerged between Washington and Moscow, and that was anticipated when abrogation of the ABM treaty was first publicly mooted.

 

Two More Pillars: Homeland Security and the Employment of Special Forces

 

I have already mentioned the new focus on homeland security that was adumbrated by the 2001 Quadrennial Defense Review. Of course, the events of 9/11 ensured that henceforth homeland security would be a major component of American strategy. In turn that meant a new role for the military in protecting the American homeland, a role that extended beyond missile defense. It also called for new roles for reserve units.

 

Special Operations Forces (SOF), on the other hand, were always an element of American force posture. Nevertheless, until 2001, they were merely an adjunct to the general-purpose forces, commanding little in the way of resources and often less respect. Operation Enduring Freedom confirmed, and Iraqi Freedom reconfirmed, the strategic change in American thinking about SOF. No longer adjunct, Special Operations Forces were to be a major factor in future contingencies, precisely because they embodied flexibility, responsiveness and carefully targeted firepower.  No longer merely a supporting force, the Special Operations Forces are now a supported force, playing a critical role alongside the four major military services within a joint operations framework.

 

Implications for Policy, Planning, Force Structure, Programs and Budgets

 

It should be clear that all of the foregoing changes in strategy have had a major impact on the implementation of our policies, as well as on the planning, programming, force structure and program/budget decisions of the first Bush Administration.  They will have a similar impact in the second administration that is almost upon us.

 

A new forward posture has already called forth an entirely new approach to army force structure and to forward naval deployments and training. As noted, the Department will reposition its forces overseas, in concert with the Base Realignment and Closure process, and is in the midst of negotiating agreements with many states that will permit a new overseas facilities support structure. The focus on capabilities-based planning and flexible, responsive forces has led to a major transformation of our defense posture that affects everything from training and experimentation, to a new array of weapons systems such as UAVs and SSGNs, and to the communications and networking that supports their effectiveness. The movement to a new triad has led to the deployment of anti-ballistic missiles at Fort Greeley, Alaska, and will result in major additional expenditures for land and sea-based missile defense, coupled with a terrestrial and space-based support structure. Homeland security will continue to require additional resourcing, as will Special Operations Forces.

 

Does Strategy Matter?

 

I trust that by now you can understand how I reached my bottom-line that strategy matters. Without a coherent strategy, the United States simply would not be able to face the rash of changes in world affairs that have taken place since 9/11. Certainly, the events since that horrible day have prompted more modifications of our strategy.  In general, however, those events have vindicated changes that were already made and were being hotly challenged by those still clinging to old ways of thinking.

 

Strategic planning is not prophecy, and strategies can well be proved wrong and often are. Nevertheless, the act of thinking ahead, of thinking creatively, of outlining goals and adapting capabilities to them, and of adding or shedding military and other capabilities in light of those goals, is still the best way to enable the United States to respond effectively to future international threats however, wherever and whenever they may arise. On the other hand, without strategic creativity, without a constant process of re-evaluating strategy in light of new factors on the international scene, the United States would continually find itself burdened with serious mismatches between the military capabilities it required and those it possessed. That is a burden we simply cannot afford to bear.

 



[1] I once wrote an article on that subject over twenty years ago, entitled “The Unforeseen Contingency: Reflections on Strategy” (The Washington Quarterly V (Autumn 1982), pp. 158-166.