Does Strategy Matter?

 

Walter B. Slocombe

 

Panel Presentation at the

National Defense University Joint Operations Symposium

“Meeting Key U.S. Defense Planning Challenges”

 

November 16, 2004


Does Strategy Matter

 

"Strategy is the use of the engagement [i.e., military operations] for the purpose of the war. … "Strategic theory ... deals with planning; or rather it attempts to shed light on the components of war and their interrelationships." [1] -- Clausewitz

 

Strategy is, in Clausewitz’ definition quoted above, the method employed for application of “engagement,” i.e., military force, to achieve a desired goal.  Accordingly, strategy always “matters,” and, moreover, “strategy” always exists, because strategy is, by definition, the relationship between desired ends and available means.  Even though it is common (and appropriate) to speak of “having a strategy” as meaning having an effective and workable plan to achieve an objective, there is always some strategy embedded in any action toward a goal.  Ideally, strategy will be rational and efficient, but that is not always the case – and it is no less “strategy” for being a poor choice.  That strategy, that relationship between ends and means, may be planned or haphazard, realistic or delusional, confident or desperate, long or short term, but any action applying means toward an objective has embedded in it a strategy. 

 

Importantly, strategy is not the statement of objectives – like “defeat global terrorism” or “prevent proliferation” – however important clear objectives are to an effective strategy and however true it may be that some strategies imply certain objectives.  Nor is “strategy” simply the prescription of a capability – though a strategy may well imply the need, given time, to develop a capability, whether that capability is a new weapons system or simply the movement of assets.[2]  And, of course, it is a commonplace that at some point “strategy” shades into tactics and logistics – the detailed means of executing a strategy at the operational level. 

 

It is a critical element of a strategy that – if it is to be both conscious and rational – it must be such as to serve as a guideline for choices and the allocation of priorities rather than leaving such choices and allocations to random chance or the shifting demands of the moment.  Just as the core concept of economics is that wants are infinite but resources are limited, so the core concept of strategy is that – at least in any serious military matter – resources are limited relative to potential objectives and therefore they must be marshaled and allocated to objectives.  Propositions like, “It is our plan to prevail decisively at minimal cost” or even “we shall fight on the beaches, etc.” are not expressions of strategy, but at best instruments of morale-building and at worst evasions of strategic decision, a form of cheerleading. 

 

Real strategic decisions center on this matter of making choices.  For example, in the Second World War, Roosevelt early on – even before Pearl Harbor – made two fundamental strategic decisions about how to defeat the Axis that were meant to guide the application of the greatest strength the United States brought to the conflict – its ability to mobilize industrial resources.  Those decisions were first, that priority should go to defeating Germany and second that the US would wage war in coalition with Britain and the Soviet Union and other allies. [3]  Neither of these strategic choices was inevitable and, in an important sense, neither was easy.  There were powerful emotional and political forces in the US that argued for giving priority or at least equal weight to the fight against Japan, and the decision to support first the British and then the Soviet war effort, even at the cost of delaying or reducing America’s own military buildup entailed overcoming not only the natural inclination of the US military to give priority to their own needs and questions about the compatibility of the interests of the US with Britain much less Stalin’s USSR, but genuine and at the time by no means unreasonable doubts about the staying power of either major ally.  If these two decisions about priority illustrate that strategy at the level of grand strategy is about choices, that is equally true of any number of strategic decisions closer to the operational military level.  For example, in World War II the military strategy insisted on by General Marshall and other US military leaders was to focus effort on what they regarded as the inherently decisive front – an invasion of northern France as the quickest route to the complete overthrow of the Nazi regime by occupying the German homeland.  It is testimony to the fact these were indeed real “strategies,” that is, they were serious allocational decisions, there were real alternatives to them, and they remain controversial to this day.

 

There may, of course, be a significant difference between declared strategies and those strategies actually employed.  Ultimately, a nation’s real strategy is discovered only by study of what it does, not just what it says it is doing.  Even in the World War II case, it is by no means clear in retrospect that the “Germany First” strategy was in fact applied with any great rigor.  For a variety of reasons, the actual allocation of US productive capacity and forces followed a course better described as a “balance” between the two great theaters than a rigorous preference for Europe over the Pacific. 

 

This observation that what is said publicly – and perhaps even what is promulgated in the most sensitive high level channels – may not reflect the strategy a nation actually follows in practice, is applicable to many of the documents that pass – in the public discourse at least – for the contemporary “strategy” of the United States, whether at the level of “national security,” “national defense,” or “national military” strategy.  To some degree, of course, these public statements of strategy are limited in their candor and real choice of priorities by the very fact of being public. Too much candor about choices we make and the priorities we set risks giving valuable information to potential enemies; it also can raise serious political problems both domestically and with allies. [4]  Moreover, any public statement of policy necessarily and rightly has in it an element of aspiration, of setting goals, and seeking to affect, as well as direct, resources. 

 

However, there is more than just confidentiality or goal-post-moving at work in the tendency of contemporary American strategic documents to avoid hard choices.  “Talk is cheap” is a principle that applies very strongly to the public articulation of national strategy.  Almost invariably, such statements espouse “strategies” that take little account of limited resources.  All too often, they descend to the level of self-parody, promising to “prevail” everywhere at minimum cost, and to maintain every conceivable capability, as well as induce allies and friends to bear their full share of the burden.  This failing is by no means limited to recent documents; the 2000 Clinton National Security Strategy (NSS) includes its full share of overstatements. 

 

It is not, however, a fully satisfactory answer to say, as the National Military Strategy (NMS) 2004 does, that the statement of strategy sets a standard against which to measure risk.  Even a strategy that does make choices and set aspirational goals will involve some risks; indeed a critical part of any strategy is to define – as a part of the strategy, not merely as limitations on its accomplishment – what risks must be accepted as contrasted to those that must be reduced by changes in operations, plans, or resource commitments.

 

I do not mean to suggest that current strategic documents are exceptionally bad on this score.  Quite the contrary, for the NSS published by what we must now get used to calling the first second Bush administration in September 2002 is, to its credit, distinctively “edgy” and decisive – by any standard and particularly by those of such documents.  This is so not only in its controversial (and I would argue much misunderstood – even “misoverestimated”) espousal of pre-emption, but its explicit commitment to maintain overwhelming military superiority by leveraging American technological and industrial power, its all but absolute priority to the fight against the combination of terrorism and proliferation, its market-oriented approach to foreign aid, its wary but Realpolitik acceptance of Russia and China as “great power” partners, and its grand strategic vision of expanding democratic values and practices as the key to American security.  One may agree or disagree with any or all of these strategic choices, but one can hardly dispute that they are choices, not pabulum.

 

However, as an exercise in considering the degree to which a current strategy document addresses current problems adequately, I have accepted the sponsors’ implied invitation to focus on the “National Military Strategy” approved in May 2004 by General Myers as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (CJCS).  That focus is appropriate, not only because the 2004 NMS is the most recent of the strategic triad of National Security Strategy issued by the President, National Defense Strategy (NDS) issued by the Secretary of Defense, and NMS issued by CJCS, but because it is, in principle, the most categorical and specific – applying to the armed forces the general strategic guidance laid down in the other two documents.[5]

 

The NMS of course – properly and necessarily – reflects the priority set in the other two documents on the fight against global terrorism, the protection of the homeland and the transformation of the military forces to meet the new threats and challenges.  It contains (as do the NSS and NDS) all the right buzz words about the importance of alliances and coalitions and of marshaling all the instruments of American power, not just the military ones. 

 

But it also incorporates some innovative and significant themes that go beyond the NSS and NDS or, more precisely, applies them specifically to the tasks facing the American military: 

 

·        Transformation is, of course, a key theme of the NMS as a strategy for adapting the capabilities of the US armed forces to meet new threats.  The NMS is quite explicit in explaining that, in a world in which no “Ten Year Rule” [6] can assume that there will be a relatively prolonged breathing space in crisis operations that would allow transformation to take effect in a period of relative calm, the strategy must be one of “in-stride transformation,” i.e., fundamentally re-shaping doctrine, weapons, training and structures for the future while maintaining capabilities for current operations that will be both intensive and extensive and whose successful execution must necessarily rely on current doctrine, weapons, training and structures.

·        The NMS goes beyond simply proclaiming the importance of cooperation with allies and friends that are willing to assist us in our military efforts.  It lays out some significant priorities for winning that cooperation – including finding new ways to enhance their capabilities, build interoperability, and insure that a technologically advanced US military can work meaningfully with other nations who will not be at the same level. 

·        The NMS follows the NDS in being highly specific on one critical point – the issue of simultaneity of conflict.  It notes, “The 2004 NDS directs a force sized to defend the homeland, deter forward in from four regions [evidently, North East Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and “the Western Hemisphere” – the inclusion of Africa is surprising], and conduct two, overlapping ‘swift defeat’ campaigns.  Even when committed to a limited number of lesser contingencies, the force must be able to ‘win decisively’ in one of the two campaigns.”  (NMS, p. 18)  Moreover, the NMS warns, accurately, that there may well be situations in which the military must engage in a new major conflict where it is “unlikely to disengage entirely” from other, lesser engagements in which it is already involved.  This guideline – nicknamed the “1-4-2-1 force-sizing construct” – eludes a good many difficult questions – like the difference between ‘swift defeat’ and ‘win decisively’ – but it certainly does not lack for specifics, nor for the potential to be used as a standard against which to measure plans for procurement, budgets, manning tables, lift requirements and the like. 

·        Consistent with the strategy of very ambitious world-wide simultaneous engagement, the NMS emphasizes the need not only for improved intelligence, including ‘persistent surveillance,’ but maintaining world-wide access and robust lift and communications capabilities.  In a world in which neither we nor our allies are fully comfortable with the deployment patterns of the Cold War, this will be a major challenge – but it is to the credit of the NMS that it acknowledges the problem.[7] 

Reviewing the NMS does however reveal some quite considerable – and mildly surprising – omissions and limitations on what would seem critical points – when measured against the standard of either the world situation, the NSS’ definition of US security concepts, or – what I would argue is the real test of the degree to which a strategic document is “real” or “rhetoric” – what we actually do with our military programs and operations.  These lacunae include:

·        Echoing the current jargon of the Pentagon, there is a great deal about basing our military policy on “capabilities” of deliberately unidentified generic adversaries, rather than on specific contingencies.  As a planning strategy this concept is hard to accept as the doctrinal innovation it is claimed to be, or even as a very useful construct for planning.  Of course, it is as true now as it was during the Cold War – or for that matter the Peloponnesian War – that a strategic planner must take account of the enemy’s capabilities, which are objective facts, and not put excessive weight on assessments of his intent.[8]  But the measure of capabilities, no less than intent, is case-specific – as the NMS implicitly acknowledges in pointing to the importance of “the security environment” in assessing risks. 

·        Apart from a few glances back to the Cold War confrontation with the Soviet Union as an example of the degree to which the international security environment has changed, there is no mention at all in the NMS of either Russia or China – and indeed no explicit attention to the general long term problem of what used to be called hedging against the re-emergence of a “near-peer competitor.”  It may be that the NMS’s passing references to “traditional challenges” from nation-states – or even the concept of “capabilities-based” planning – are meant to encompass the “near-peer” problem without the embarrassing need to say openly whom we are talking about – or the awkward acknowledgement that we cannot concentrate entirely on the problems of terrorism, failed states, or proliferators because we also have to prepare for the more familiar – but in some respects even more grave – challenges from large nation-states possessing not only asymmetric capabilities, but powerful conventional and nuclear ones as well.  It may also be that it is thought impolitic (or even unwise in a more profound sense) to mention publicly the possibility of conflict with China, much less Russia – in a public strategic policy statement.  Nonetheless, it is a hard fact that Russia remains the second military power on the globe – particularly when nuclear capability is taken into account – and that the future course of Russia remains uncertain.  Moreover, in other contexts, the Defense Department is far from bashful about pointing to the potential challenge presented by a China that combines growing economic power, increasing political influence in the region, an unresolved and potentially explosive conflict with Taiwan, and an ambitious military modernization program.  Unfortunately, the possibility of conflict with China over Taiwan is all too real and that such a conflict is (aside from a spectacular relapse in our relations with Russia) the one case in which the US could plausibly find itself at war with a powerful nation-state with conventional, asymmetric, and nuclear capabilities.  However we may hope to avoid it by prudent diplomacy and deterrence, and however important it is to avoid letting concern about the possibility of conflict with China produce a self-fulfilling prophecy, it is hardly a case we can ignore.  In any event, even laying that potential aside, it seems pretty clear that much of our military’s effort – particularly in the maintenance of a very large nuclear capability and commitment to extremely ambitious advanced weapons like F-22 and SSNs and at least some of our alliance relationships – has little to do with terrorism or potential wars with the North Koreas or even the Irans of this world, but is (quite rightly) directed at maintaining America’s long-term capacity to deter and, if need be, defeat any emerging challenge from any would-be rival super-power.  Realistically, there are only two candidates for that role.  A strategic document that is wholly silent on that significant part of the security environment – or limits itself to references so subtle as to be all but undecipherable – is necessarily less useful as a guide to action than it should be.

·        Perhaps even more surprising – given the NMS’s candid recognition of the need to balance current effectiveness with long term transformation – the NMS barely mentions Iraq, much less Afghanistan, either as current commitments that dominate immediate needs or as a source of lessons for the future.[9]  One would not know from reading this document that the US has committed a huge fraction of its ground forces – virtually all of them, when rotation requirements are taken into account – to these two conflicts, and, perhaps more important, is fundamentally committed to success in both – and has, unfortunately, found that ‘swift defeat’ of the enemy’s organized conventional forces in both wars has not yet meant ‘decisive victory’ in either.  For the next several years, it seems likely that maintaining these two commitments – each of which has a central place in our overall effort against terrorism, proliferation, and regional instability -- will have a profound impact on our ability to execute many of the strategic lines of action laid out in the NMS.  Doing so will also impact heavily on such priorities as force sizing. Maintaining access, and balancing between current operations and long term transformation.  No doubt these issues are a major focus of practical planning in DOD, and there are good reasons not to attempt to manage immediate problems in a strategy document.  Nonetheless, the all but complete omission to address the need to commit very large parts of the military to Iraq and to a lesser extent Afghanistan, limits the degree to which the NMS will in fact serve its purpose of defining America’s military priorities for the near and medium term, and serve as guide for force sizing, procurement priorities, basic personnel policies, and the balance between current operations and long term transformation.

 

Nevertheless, these strategic documents do have an impact.  At a minimum they will set the terms of the debate over resource allocation and the shaping of concrete military plans.  For example, the current priority to the global war on terror provides a context for both advocates and critics in evaluating the relative urgency of other tasks, including the war in Iraq.  The commitment to technological superiority – and to dealing with asymmetric threats – sets priorities not only for procurement but for the specific content of transformation.  The ambitious “1-4-2-1” standard sets a bar – and a high one – for force sizing, for lift, and for maintenance of alliances and coalitions.  They – and the strategy they embody – certainly “matter.”



[1]           C. von Clausewitz, On War, (M. Howard and P. Paret, Eds.) (Princeton Univ. Press, 1976), p. 177.

[2]               “Capabilities” are no more immutable than “objectives” – at least over time. A wise ministry of defense or general staff, just as it will modify objectives to reflect the strategies its current capabilities make feasible, will have a strategy for allocating resources to develop and maintain capabilities for the future, just as much as it has a strategy for allocating forces in a war.  In principle, such a strategy for the commitment of  resources to building capabilities should be derived from, and consistent with, the overall strategy for the application of military (and other) instruments to achieve security goals.  To give an example, if negating missile attacks on the US is a critical objective, one strategy for doing so may be to defeat such attacks directly, rather than, say, deterring them by threat of retaliation, securing their dismantlement by negotiation, or pre-empting against the enemy’s missile systems.  That strategy implies a need to develop, deploy, and operate, a missile defense system capable of intercepting a limited ballistic missile attack on the US homeland.  But the system is an instrument required to carry out the strategy of direct (or “active”) defense; the developing of the capability is not itself the strategy, but its execution.

[3]               Conversely, the controversial decision to seek “unconditional surrender” was a matter of definition of objectives, not choice of strategy (though it can certainly be argued that the objective was in part required by the strategy of fighting the war in coalition with the USSR).

[4]               During the Cold War, for example, it was politically impossible to suggest that NATO’s strategy for the defense of the Central German front was anything other than a “no retreat” stand on the inner-

German border.  Whether that abjuration of defense in depth reflected the actual military plan is an open question – but it is certainly true that the stated strategy was not matched by actual military preparations for its execution.  Similarly, Secretary of Defense Aspin was savaged when, early in his unhappy tenure, he attempted to promulgate a strategy that faced the fact that if the United States ever again found itself engaged in two simultaneous major regional wars it might do worse than follow the stated (if not followed) strategy of World War II and give priority to victory in one while “holding” in the other.

[5]               The NMS defines the relationship among the three “strategic” documents as follows:  “The NSS and NDS provide a broad strategic context for employing military capabilities in concert with other instruments of national power.  The NMS provides focus for military activities by defining a set of military objectives and joint operating concepts from which the Service chiefs and combatant commanders identify desired capabilities and against which the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff assesses risk.”  NMS 2004,  p. 2.

[6]               The “Ten Year Rule” famously directed by British military authorities beginning in 1919 to assume for budget planning purposes that Britain would not be engaged in a major war for ten years.  It is widely, if not entirely accurately, blamed for Britain’s lack of preparedness to stand up to Hitler militarily early in his course of aggression.  In fact, when Winston Churchill, as Chancellor of the Exchequer extended the rule in 1929 he also insisted that it be reviewed annually, and it was formally dropped in 1932, after the Japanese invasion of Manchuria.  Though it was not until several years later that Britain seriously accelerated its military modernization, this delay had far more to do with the nation’s economic plight, its failure to acknowledge the Nazi challenge, and widespread rejection of participation in another European war than any legacy of the budgetary guideline.  Nonetheless the story of the Ten Year Rule has come to symbolize the dangers of optimistic assumptions that any real military problems lie far in the future.

[7]               This brief listing is by no means a complete catalogue of areas in which the NMS is both candid and intellectually original:  For example, there is a quite extensive discussion of the problems that “ungovernable areas” present for the war on terrorism (and, by implication, for post-conflict operations), and a remarkably forthright acknowledgement that the “on-going war on terrorism” will last a long time (NMS, p.19), an acknowledgement with considerable implications for force planning and procurement.

[8]               The usual warning is that the danger lies in discounting capabilities by over-confidence in limited intent.  Recent experience in Iraq shows, ironically, that measuring threats and imperatives by intent can sometimes overstate the urgency of the problem if it had been measured based on an accurate sense of his capabilities, rather than an (accurate) evaluation of the malevolence of his intent.  We may be in danger of making a similar error about China – in the sense of reading more actual capability into its modernization plans than they are likely to deliver in relative improvement vis a vis the United States military.

[9]               The latter omission is, to be sure, qualified:  There is a passing reference to the need to draw lessons from these two conflicts  (CITE) and a number of discrete observations about the importance and difficulty of post-conflict stability operations, and the guidance to combatant commanders does delicately remind them that they “must prepare to operate in regions where pockets of resistance remain and there exists the potential for continued combat operations amidst a large number of non-combatants.” (NMS, p. 5).