What Does a 21st Century Defense Require?
ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS
The current debate over national defense exhibits a curious sterility. On the surface, much of it involves the impassioned swapping of cliches. Yes, we will always need somebody with a rifle on the ground; yes, aircraft carriers can do things land-based aviation can’t; yes, land-based airpower can do things carriers can’t; yes, redundancy of capabilities is important. Such statements have a “true but not very helpful” quality, since they say nothing about the proper mix of forces, or how to prepare and employ them. And, rather often, the cliche-mongers turn out to be those with special interests to protect.
Beneath the bromides, the debate centers on two issues. One is readiness: real and perceived current inadequacies and the perhaps imminent danger of a hollow force, unable to accomplish its missions, due to lack of training, equipment, and supply. The other is the capability of the current force, even if fully prepared, to handle the two “nearly simultaneous major regional conflicts” posited as the strategic baseline in the Clinton administration’s Bottom-Up Review.
So far, much of this debate has been an exercise in bean-counting, i.e., quantitative assessments of how many billions spent, how many ships, divisions, and planes available, how many training days missed. These dry statistics are often counterpointed by what might be termed “analysis-by-anecdote”-a melange of uncritically collected and repeated horror stories.
The problem with this approach is twofold. First, readiness, like education, is a difficult condition to quantify. Statistics are easily manipulated, and readiness itself means nothing without asking: “Readiness for what?” For example, not everybody goes to war at once. If a division requires one month to prepare for deployment, but transportation won’t be available for three, high readiness is actually wasteful. Further, the services are still downsizing; it makes no sense to lavish resources on units slated for abolition. Many of the readiness horror stories appear to come out of lower-priority units.
But more importantly, indices of readiness say nothing about what kinds of forces the U.S. ought to have. The analogy may be extreme but, in 1939, the Poles had the most ready cavalry in Europe. It is true that, short-term, the present force must be maintained at adequate, perhaps unprecedentedly high levels. And, in fact, there is evidence that shortages have begun to affect higher-priority units. But it is also true that the current force is simply too large to be maintained at such readiness on any politically conceivable peacetime budget. Thus, the very attempt to maintain too large a force actually decreases overall readiness. A smaller force, differently structured and postured, is the logical alternative.
Not surprisingly, the same bean-counting mentality that decrees the present force unready also calls for larger forces if the strategic requirements of the Bottom-Up Review-the Clinton administration’s conventional defense strategy-are to be met. But the fundamental problem with the Bottom-Up Review is not that the forces available are inadequate. The problem with the Bottom-Up Review is that it’s conceptually inadequate, and should be treated as such.
The Bottom-Up Review posits the need to win two more-or-less simultaneous conflicts, presumably one in the Persian Gulf and one in Korea. The rationale is that, should the U.S. find itself immersed in one war, another regional predator might be tempted to take advantage of the fact and start a second. Whether this might happen is speculative, at best. Less speculative is the fact that such a situation would be a national emergency unparalleled since Pearl Harbor (especially if an Iranian-Iraqi alliance ever materializes). Yet the Bottom-Up Review counts only active forces. In a two-front, perhaps a two-continent war, early and massive reserve mobilization would be unavoidable.
Further, the Review accepts-indeed, effectively mandates-an operational concept guaranteed to produce maximum U.S. casualties and minimum results. In both wars, the U.S. would permit the aggressor to strike cross-border first. U.S. forces would then “stabilize the front,” await reinforcements, counterattack and restore the status quo ante. Some of these forces, most notably heavy bombers and Marines, would “swing” between wars in a process lasting several months. This “wait-get-hit-stabilize-reinforce-and-restore” approach, itself a legacy of NATO planning for a Soviet invasion, worked in Desert Shield/Desert Storm largely because of Saddam Hussein’s acquiescence. It must be doubted that the U.S. will ever again find so breathtakingly co-operative an adversary.
Of course, the Bottom-Up Review is far from the first U.S. strategy to suffer from a bad case of what is known at the Pentagon as the “plans/reality mismatch.” In the 1960s, Mr. McNamara and his Whiz Kids produced the “2 1/2 War Strategy”-simultaneous combat with the Soviets, the Communist Chinese, and somebody else in a little war somewhere. (That 1/2 war turned out to be Vietnam, which nearly wrecked the defense establishment.) Under Nixon, it became the “1 1/2 War Strategy.” During the Carter administration, a “Swing Strategy”-moving hollow forces from war to war-enjoyed its fifteen minutes of fame, and, mercifully, zero moments of employment.
In this sense, the Bottom-Up Review is not much different from its predecessors, and proof once again of General Eisenhower’s dictum that “Planning is essential; plans are useless.” Or perhaps the Bottom-Up Review should be regarded as merely a particularly inept transitional document, something to stick in the drawer until the world situation clarifies. But it might not be a bad idea if that drawer were to remain empty for a while. If the United States cannot currently produce a serious military strategy, perhaps it makes more sense to concentrate on the resources first. Then, with that task underway, it might be useful to rewrite the brochure.
FORCE STRUCTURE, ROLES AND MISSIONS
The military capabilities of any defense establishment are embedded in its force structure. Creating this structure is both art and science. Structuring entails an endless series of decisions and trade-offs: what to leave in, what to leave out, how to achieve the necessary combat synergies. Force structure is everything from how many divisions in the Army (and whether divisions are still a useful kind of organization) to how many riflemen in a squad and who will carry the grenade launchers and machine guns; how many ships in the fleet and of what types; how many heavy bombers and what kinds of munitions they will carry.
Theoretically, and usually in practice, a nation’s force structure is determined by its geographical position and strategic needs. Historically, for most nations, necessity requires that one service or form of power dominate; the others support. In the 20th century, for example, Germany and Russia were land powers. Both got into serious strategic and economic trouble when they started acquiring navies they didn’t need, but that threatened maritime powers. Conversely, Great Britain was primarily a naval power; extended land combat in two world wars devastated the country. Israel is a land power, although its situation dictates a very strong Air Force. Other countries-North Vietnam comes to mind-succeed with little besides ground forces.
Further, a country’s force structure will be determined by whether its wars are fought at or close to home, or far away. Expeditionary forces cost much more than equivalent territorial forces, since they require sea and airlift, resupply, and, often, foreign basing. Expeditionary forces also tend to be professional and available for duties short of all-out war. Often, their use does not signal long-term commitment. Territorial forces, on the other hand, are often filled by conscripts, and-in the democracies-usually limited to home defense or foreign wars fully supported by the population.
But America’s strategic needs are unique, and its military exhibits characteristics of both territorial and expeditionary forces.
U.S. forces are, virtually by definition, expeditionary. They are also professional. But they operate under the severe political limitations characteristic of democracies, not the least of which is the requirement that victory be rapid and relatively bloodless. U.S. force structure is also unique. No nation has ever amassed the same mix: the normal array of land, sea, and air capabilities plus:
–a fleet of large-deck aircraft carriers
–the world’s largest Marine Corps
–long-range stealthy bombers
–an incomparable C3I (command, control, communications, intelligence) capability.
America’s mix of normal and unique, territorial and expeditionary capabilities has evolved throughout the 20th century. However, for a variety of reasons-from changing threats to technological revolutions and the popular insistence on short, perhaps impossibly “clean” wars-the present structure is no longer adequate. The mix must change.
Prior to the First World War, things were simple. If it happened on land, the Army tended to it; the Navy pursued its activities at sea. There were, of course, a few overlaps. The Army maintained coastal fortifications and artillery. The Navy might occasionally bombard a shore or land small parties of Marines. But neither service could do, or take, the other’s job.
The airplane blurred this tidy division of labor. So did the mixing and matching of hitherto unrelated systems. In World War II, carrier aviation routinely struck ground targets. Land-based planes could take on fleets, provide convoy protection, etc. Simultaneously, a plethora of new capabilities developed: armor, paratroops, submarines, large-scale amphibious forces, and strategic bombers, to name a few. Later came helicopters, missile-firing submarines, and the precision-guidance revolution.
The result is that today, while military technologies and systems have proliferated, their effects have converged. It is now possible to fight in many different ways. For example, it used to be axiomatic that the best anti-tank weapon was another (preferably larger) tank. But today, there are easily over twenty different ways to destroy tanks: other tanks, infantry anti-armor weapons, special artillery munitions, helicopter gunships, attack aircraft, various mines. Conceivably, in a few years, submarines will be able to fire cruise missiles carrying anti-tank submunitions, each guided to its target by internal sensors or by satellites. When ships underwater fight tanks well-inland with the aid of systems in space, clearly, the conduct of war could use some sustained rethinking.
But there is another aspect to this proliferation and convergence of technologies and systems. Capabilities that once were unique or clearly complementary can begin to seem redundant, especially in an era of nebulous threats and constrained resources. For example, once aircraft carriers and Marines could go where land-based aircraft and paratroop couldn’t; ships had longer ranges and more staying power than planes, and that was that. They still do, but such staying power may not always be a relevant characteristic. Today, Air Force heavy bombers operating from only three bases (in the United States, Guam, and on Diego Garcia) can strike anywhere on earth within eighteen hours of alert. Paratroops out of North Carolina can reach, say, Beirut, faster than Marines steaming through Gibraltar. Thus, there are now at least two ways to perform long-distance “get-in-and-get-out” air and ground operations.
This is not to say, of course, that carriers and Marines are obsolete. Far from it: Each service still possesses unique core competencies. Nor is it to suggest that redundancy is undesirable; in war, redundancy is vital. But it is to suggest that the current structure and mix of forces can be reconfigured to make maximum use of this new array of capabilities in an affordable manner-even if this involves some alteration of each service’s traditional roles and missions.
From time to time, the Pentagon’s internal struggle over roles and missions (technically, roles, missions, and functions) enters public consciousness. The subject can seem arcane. In reality, though, it’s as simple as it is significant. Imagine a theater company. Its mission is to stage “Hamlet.” To do this, it requires an on-stage cast. Each member plays a role. Some may play, or prepare to play, more than one. Finally, the troupe needs a large number of supporting functions: lights, tickets, PR, etc.
At the highest military levels, joint and unified commanders (the General Schwarzkopfs) receive missions. They draw their cast of characters and supporting specialists from the individual services and from the larger defense establishment. Obviously, the needs of the combatant commands should determine what the services purchase and train for. Indeed, the unified commanders and the Pentagon’s Joint Resources Oversight Council have achieved significant influence over the process. But the individual services still write their own budgets, in accordance with roles and requirements carved into law decades ago. And the legal and bureaucratic history of this assignment process has been, in large measure, the history of making sure that the services get what they want.
But today, the problem is how to make the new array of capabilities relevant to the myriad challenges of the 21st century. And one of the great hindrances to a new force structure is the old division of labor.
What follows is not so much a detailed list of recommendations for reallocation of roles, missions, and functions as it is a way of thinking about such reallocations.
To repeat: The problem is not money. This country can defend itself on a bit less than three hundred billion dollars a year. But the establishment must be restructured. Less-of-the-same no longer avails.
And neither does more-of-the-same.
GUIDING CONCEPTS FOR A NEW DEFENSE
The following points provide a conceptual framework for restructuring defense. Full implementation would probably require changes to Title 10, USC, and to Department of Defense Directive 5100.1, the basic legal and tasking documents. For present purposes, such specific changes need not be addressed.
1) We’re in an asymmetrical arms race. It is obvious that the post-Cold War world offers a variety of threats, from heavily armed aggressor states to terrorist splinter groups. Less obvious is the fact that there is an arms race going on-an historically unique arms race, in that it is thoroughly asymmetrical. The United States is, for practical purposes, out of the WMD (weapons of mass destruction) business. Development and production of precision-guidance weapons and systems are now primary. Meanwhile, the planetary predators develop or purchase nuclear, chemical, and/or biological weapons, along with crude but serviceable delivery systems. Thus, the fundamental task is to make U.S. power effective against both conventional forces and weapons of mass destruction.
2) Culture constrains combat. The American people, for reasons ranging from innate decency to media hype and hysteria, will not accept protracted land combat or heavy casualties. This means that, politically as well as militarily, it is vital to deter aggression or, failing that, to win rapidly and decisively. This is especially true because future aggressors may well try to create conditions in which the United States deters itself from responding to aggression. This can be done by initiating conflict in which protracted fighting and heavy casualties will be inevitable, or by striking so quickly and successfully that response becomes pointless or counterproductive. To avoid these situations, conventional deterrence must be overwhelmingly credible. Should deterrence fail, the rapid use of overwhelming force will be imperative.
3) The U.S. is an aerospace power. This overwhelming force has a special character. Militarily, the United States is neither a land nor a sea power, as these terms have traditionally been understood. The U.S. neither defends its territory against invasion nor covets the lands of others; there are few pieces of real estate anywhere for which this country would fight. Nor is there an enemy fleet to seek out and destroy, or sea lanes menaced by raiders. The United States is, instead, an aerospace power: the first and only one in history. Aerospace power, in all its aspects, is the great American comparative advantage. Aerospace does not mean exclusively, or even primarily, “Air Force.” It centers on the Air Force, but also includes naval aviation, Army capabilities, and-of great importance-precision-guided weaponry and C3I systems. True, aerospace power will not be relevant to every situation. But, since it is the great U.S. advantage, and since the American people abhor bloody ground combat, as a general rule: Whatever can be done from the air, probably should be done from the air.
4) Aerospace forces come first. It is time to recognize that the precision-guidance revolution, coupled with long-range and stealthy delivery platforms (submarines as well as aircraft) has the potential to change the nature of conventional combat. For millennia, it has seemed axiomatic that, since people live on land, wars must ultimately be settled on land, i.e., by the taking and holding of territory. However, as Clausewitz pointed out, war is a political act, intended to compel the enemy to do our will. In any given situation, territory may be a vital element of victory; it may also be irrelevant. Terrorist groups or rogue states may or may not possess territorial ambitions. Still, it has remained taken-for-granted that, in conventional war, the land campaign must be the centerpiece. All else supports the ground war. But in Desert Storm, land combat didn’t win the war. Land combat finished it. In the future, presidents and commanders may wish to repeat the Desert Storm sequence: a devastating air war followed by a relatively easy ground campaign. Alternatively, they may decide, or be forced to decide, that the land campaign must be central. But they should have the aerospace option. This means that the Air Force’s unique capabilities-global range, stealth, advanced precision weaponry-should not be tied, doctrinally or operationally, to the ground campaign. It also means that the air components of the other services should be kept strong and employed creatively within their own realms.
5) Force structure must reflect reality. From this it follows that U.S. structuring priorities should be:
–Aerospace power in its many aspects
–Rapid response Marine and Army forces possessing substantial combat power. This includes a Marine Corps of about 175,000 and a selection of Army paratroop, air-mobile, and light infantry units at battalion/ brigade level, plus other (Ranger, Special Forces, etc.) units.
–Heavier Army units at brigade/division/light corps level capable of rapid deployment and employment.
For the Army, this entails both continuation of a post-Vietnam trend and a radical rethinking. In the 1970s, the Defense Department chose, for budgetary and political reasons, to adopt and seriously implement the “Total Force Policy,” declaring the reserves equal to the regular forces for planning and employment purposes. This meant, among other things, that the Army couldn’t engage in protracted war without reserve mobilization. The Army wisely accepted this policy, recognizing that reserve mobilization provided a crucial test of popular support and national commitment. In the 1990s, this policy should be pursued with renewed vigor. Militarily as well as politically, the capability to wage sustained ground warfare should reside with the people. Today, the Army is a force of over a million, when reserve and National Guard units are counted: certainly an adequate number, if properly structured and prepared.
Two principles follow. First, if a threat is not worth mobilizing the reserves to counter, or if the reserves can’t be mobilized for political reasons, it’s probably not wise to get into a major war. And, second, If large units can’t be ready to fight in a very few weeks, they probably belong in the reserves.
As a practical matter, this means that the Army must reconsider the nature of its larger active-force units. The old division and corps structure, with its many layers of command and staff, and its ponderous logistical “tail” may well be obsolete; future forces might better be a flexible mix of brigades tailored into light corps, with reduced staffs and support units.
Of course, not every active unit, regardless of size, can be ready all the time. But large unready active units are a waste of money. The Army is the most labor-intensive of the services, and there are significant cost savings in cutting personnel. Since World War II, the Army has been structured for expansion as well as for immediate employment. World War II demonstrated that, while a lieutenant or a private might be turned out in a few months, competent senior officers and non-commissioned officers took many years to develop. In effect, the Army stockpiled these people on active duty against some future mobilization requirement, finding them employment in bloated staffs, unnecessary organizations, and endless schools. But the days of Industrial Age warfare-of protracted mass mobilization-are gone. The active Army needs to downsize even more, modernize, and capitalize. And, in fact, the Army is moving toward these goals in a variety of experimental programs, although there is a certain reluctance to admit it too openly. This trend should continue.
6) Structure determines spending priorities. Defense spending should accord with these priorities. And, for the next few years, one of the top priorities should be acquisition of ample precision-guided munitions and supporting systems, plus stockpiling of critical parts in the event of a “surge” production requirement. The United States is indeed an aerospace power, but that doesn’t mean that, just because something has wings, the Pentagon has to buy it. There must be rational trade-offs between platforms and munitions.
The best example here is the B-2 stealth bomber. At over $800 million per copy for the 20 already on order, and at $20,000 per hour to operate, the plane is simply too expensive. Nor are next-generation fighter and attack aircraft an urgent priority; upgraded current models will serve for the next few years. True, sometime after 2000, new aircraft will be required, and development should proceed aggressively. Air superiority is not a God-given American right; it must be maintained. But, for the next few years, the munitions will be more important than the platforms that launch them. When the price of a B-2 bomber is also the cost of more than 800 Tomahawk cruise missiles, for the Navy and the Air Force, the correct choice is obvious.
Other high priorities include aggressive development of next generation systems and ample funding for the Army’s experimental programs. R&D is future readiness; it should not be sacrificed to maintain the present force at the present size. A final priority: airlift and fast sealift. The most powerful military on earth is useless if it can’t get to the war, or sustain itself once there.
7) Presence and peacekeeping options expand. In recent years, two activities short-of-war have consumed enormous resources. One is the so-called “presence mission,” i.e., keeping combat-ready forces in and around various global hot spots. The most effective presence is, obviously, permanently overseas-based, combat-capable forces. But, for better or worse, U.S. forces are coming home. The next-best presence forces are deployed aircraft carrier battle groups and Marine amphibious ready groups; these units are mobile, operate in international waters, and have significant combat power and sustainability. They are also vital during the transition from crisis to war, and as the “enabling” force that permits the Army and Air Force to get ashore. But they are also expensive, and presence may now be defined as more than the up-close-and-personal.
To the extent that presence is a condition in the mind of would-be aggressors–the knowledge that the stealth fighters and bombers and the Tomahawk-firing submarines and the paratroops are also out there–these capabilities may augment, and sometimes replace, more traditional forces. It’s not a perfect trade-off, but one that is both available and reasonable. The trade-off can also lead to the conclusion that the constant deployment of carrier battle groups may no longer be necessary in certain areas. The Navy has recognized this for years. Its efforts and experiments in “adaptive force packaging”-sending out presence forces without the large-deck carriers-should continue. Marine amphibious carriers and surface ships armed with precision-guided weaponry may not be as powerful or versatile as the big-deck battle groups, but the option is valuable.
The other major short-of-war activity consists of peace-keeping and humanitarian operations. These are expensive, exhausting, and demoralizing. They also wreak havoc with operating schedules and tempos, especially when a crisis erupts and the Joint Chiefs call on whatever units might be available. A special Army peacekeeping division might not be a bad idea; if established, it should not count against Army end strength, or be funded out of Army appropriations.
8) Home defense belongs in the structure. Finally, defense, like charity, begins at home. Although the United States is not vulnerable to invasion, it is entirely open to attack by weapons of mass destruction. Too often, the debate over continental defense comes down to a spurious either/or. “Why build defenses when bombs can be smuggled in?” and equivalent arguments. But it’s not either/or. And, in fact, many of the battlefield and theater weapons now coming into the hands of potential predators could be used against the continental United States. Launching a crude cruise or ballistic missile from a yacht or merchant ship on the high seas may well be easier than assembling and emplacing so-called “suitcase bombs.” These weapons can now be targeted with the aid of commercially available satellite navigation systems.
And the United States is not alone in facing this problem. Many other nations have a vital interest in defense against limited attacks. Russia, especially. It is therefore imperative that the United States begin a serious home defense program, based upon maximum use of available and developing battlefield and theater defenses, and in concert with other nations, whenever possible. What will it cost? Less, no doubt, than someday pondering the crater where Manhattan once stood, or the million bloated corpses that used to be the good people of Puget Sound.
CONCLUSION
The preceding has dealt with the conceptual framework for defense restructuring in a transitional era. Today, there is no defining threat. There is, however, a defining opportunity, created by changing technologies and world politics. These require a new force structure. But unnecessary defense spending is, domestically as well as internationally, a clear and present danger. Even during the coldest days of the Cold War, President Eisenhower could warn that it was possible to spend too much on defense, and to spend it wrongly. His admonition is still apt.
Dr. Philip Gold is a senior fellow of the Discovery Institute, and director of the Institute’s Aerospace 2010 Project. A former Marine, he is the author of Evasion,: The American Way of Military Service and over 100 articles on defense matters. He teaches at Georgetown University and is a frequent op-ed contributor to several newspapers. Dr. Gold divides his time between Seattle and Washington, D.C.
Portions of this Inquiry originally appeared as articles in the Seattle Times and the Washington Times. The author is grateful to the following for sharing their time and insights: General Merrill A. McPeak, USAF (Ret); Major General John Costello, USA; Rear Admiral Philip A. Dur, USN; Major General Charles D. Link, USAF; Rear Admiral Charles Lynch, USN; Major General Thomas L. Wilkerson, USMC. These acknowledgments do not imply any endorsement of this Inquiry by the officers or their services; all errors are the responsibility of the author.