Document created: 27 August 04
Air University Review, November-December
1970
Now that President Nixon has been in office for nearly two years it seems appropriate to consider what changes he has made in our foreign and military policies. The most recent significant transition occurred when President John F. Kennedy and his Secretary of Defense, Robert S. McNamara, made important changes to what had been the national strategy of the Eisenhower Administration.
At the outset, it seems fair to say that whereas the Kennedy and Johnson Administrations dressed up their policies with a good deal of ideological fervor and flamboyant grand design, the present administration has been—for the most part—bereft of the grandiose, preferring instead a more cautious approach.
Whatever Mr. Nixon’s judgment in the 1950s and early 1960s with respect to U.S. Vietnam policy, as President he moved early to change fundamentally both the policy itself and the governmental process that had fashioned it. He proceeded on the premise that there were existing organizational (bureaucratic) defects along with significant policy (intellectual) misconceptions which if left uncorrected were likely to generate new disasters―and sooner rather than later. In his lengthy foreign affairs message submitted to the Congress on 18 February 1970, titled “United States Foreign Policy for the 1970’s: A New Strategy for Peace,” the President made abundantly clear his dissatisfaction with both the substance and machinery of U.S. foreign policy as he found them on his accession to the Presidency.
President Nixon’s first step, therefore, was to initiate a basic overhaul of the policy process. While admonishing that “efficient procedure does not insure wisdom in the substance of policy,” Mr. Nixon observed that creative and farsighted policies can only be formulated systematically. “We must,” he noted, “master problems before they master us.” Piecemeal decisions dictated by the pressure of events had too often in the recent past led us into serious difficulties. Thus, at the outset, the President directed that the National Security Council (NSC) be revitalized as the primary vehicle for consideration of national security issues. This move was a natural one for the President because he had been intimately involved with the NSC as Vice President under Eisenhower; he has always been comfortable with procedural orderliness; and it has been no secret that he was aghast at the disparate manner in which policy had been fashioned under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson.
Obviously, Mr. Nixon felt that Vietnam marked a striking failure of the mechanics of the foreign policy process. By resuscitating the NSC and establishing a new system of groups to support it, he felt that the inadequacies of our foreign policy methods could be remedied. Only time and events will tell, of course, but there is some evidence for believing that the Nixon approach has already corrected the most glaring deficiencies that afflicted the previous administration’s policy process. Perhaps the most serious of the inadequacies had to do with the dearth of options to be found in the national security process and with the fact (recently stated by former Vice President Humphrey) that the Johnson Administration had become isolated from the major tides of American public opinion. Mr. Nixon recognized that either one of these crucial deficiencies could prove fatal.
Without getting down to the specifics of weapon systems, one can consider the broad outline of Mr. Nixon’s national defense policy, which was formulated after perhaps the most exhaustive review of the nation’s security since the early days of the first Eisenhower Administration. It is well to remember that President Eisenhower’s first priority was to end the Korean War. Similarly, Mr. Nixon is now in the process of extricating us from Vietnam by intensively supporting “Vietnamization,” which emphasizes training South Vietnamese forces to take over the burden of the fighting.
It will be recalled that when the New Look defense policy evolved in the fall of 1953 it complemented the Eisenhower Administration’s overall policy. Coming as it did on the heels of the Korean War, the New Look involved substantial reductions in conventional ground forces and a concomitant emphasis on the strategic nuclear deterrent. In his Mandate For Change, Mr. Eisenhower explained that
. . . the United States would not employ the same policies and resources to fight another war as were used in the Korean conflict. I saw no sense in wasting manpower in costly small wars that could not achieve decisive results under the political and military circumstances then existing. I felt that this kind of military policy would play into the hands of a potential enemy . . . We should refuse to permit our adversary to enjoy a sanctuary from which he could operate without danger to himself; we would not allow him to blackmail us into placing limitations upon the types of weapons we would employ. (p. 454)
As the New Look was a special reflection of the thought and philosophy of Eisenhower and his close aides (especially George Humphrey and John Foster Dulles), the Nixon defense policy undoubtedly reflects the President’s values and goals—which, interestingly, are reminiscent of Eisenhower’s. Like General Eisenhower in the backlash of Korea, President Nixon’s national security policy has had to come to grips with Vietnam. In his 18 February message, he said that we cannot expect
. . . U. S. military forces to cope with the entire spectrum of threats facing allies or potential allies throughout the world. This is particularly true of subversion and guerrilla warfare or “wars of national liberation.” Experience has shown that the best means of dealing with insurgencies is to pre-empt them through economic development and social reform and to control them with police, paramilitary and military action by the threatened government.
As far as a direct role for American forces was concerned, Mr. Nixon noted that such a situation might arise “when insurgency has shaded into external aggression” or when there is a conventional attack. Should either contingency develop, the U.S. would then consider its interests and obligations and the “efforts of our allies, in determining our response.” Thus overall, like the New Look, President Nixon’s military policy seems certain to be distinguished by retrenchment in nonnuclear forces.
This represents a significant shift from the Kennedy and Johnson policies. Whereas Eisenhower stressed strategic nuclear retaliatory power, John F. Kennedy took office determined to put “the nuclear genie back in the bottle.” President Kennedy felt that the primary danger was the corrosive effect of limited local wars or what Soviet Premier Khrushchev had described as “wars of national liberation”―precisely the kind of wars that cost the Soviets very little. Now, reacting to the Kennedy-Johnson policy which culminated in the war in Vietnam, President Nixon seems determined to withdraw (at the least) most of our ground forces from Vietnam and to pare down substantially our general-purpose forces.
Striking semantic similarities are apparent in a comparison of the Eisenhower and Nixon approaches to the strategic nuclear deterrent. Mr. Nixon’s proclaimed goal of a strategic posture of “sufficiency” recalls the doctrine of sufficiency expounded in August 1956 by Secretary of the Air Force Donald Quarles. There comes a time in the course of increasing our power, said Quarles, “when we must make a determination of sufficiency.” It should be noted that the Quarles statement marked the beginning of a turn in the Eisenhower Administration away from substantial superiority towards sufficiency. During 1953–55 the Administration insisted on maintaining the American lead in air power and the technology producing it. But between 1956 and 1960 the policy changed to one of adequacy, reflecting the forceful and insistent pressures for economy within the Administration. Adequacy or sufficiency had to be maintained at reasonable cost. The cost of overwhelming superiority was becoming too great to keep up. As Secretary Quarles expressed it, superiority could not guarantee immunity from nuclear catastrophe. The evolving determinant was the U.S. capacity to launch devastating retaliation upon the Soviet Union. In the late 1950s, therefore, assured destruction was well on the way to becoming the keystone of American nuclear strategy.
Interestingly, President Nixon first used the word “sufficiency” in his initial press conference, on 27 January 1969. “Our objective,” he said, “is to be sure that the United States has sufficient military power to defend our interests and to maintain the commitments which this administration determines are in the interest of the U.S. around the world.” He added that he thought “sufficiency” was a better word than either “superiority” or “parity.”
Then, to further make the point, in his 18 February 1970 message he indicated that he would not either sharply reduce or increase American strategic programs or deployments. Significant reductions would mean that the criteria for sufficiency of the deterrent force could not be met and also might provoke a Soviet reaction. On the other hand, a very substantial increase in strategic power might not only produce a response in the Russian defense budget but also dim prospects for an agreement to limit strategic weapons. In general terms―and the President’s February message was very general―these strategic goals fit well into the Nixon philosophy of moving “from an era of confrontation to one of negotiation.”
Nevertheless, because total war is the one kind of war we cannot afford to have, it must still continue to claim first priority on our resources. The strategic nuclear deterrent, as Bernard Brodie once put it, “will have to remain as the Constant Monitor and its efficiency in that role should never be subject to doubt.” And as one of the Nixon Administration’s strategic planners observed: “If we miscalculate by having too few general purpose forces the result can hardly be calamitous. But if we err on the side of too little in the strategic field, it could be fatal.” For the Nixon Administration, therefore, sufficiency does not mean parity. Thus, the question becomes how much counterforce to add to the assured-destruction force.
The Administration is aware that it must guard against a loss of the American strategic nuclear edge. Our lead, Mr. Nixon frequently has pointed out, has been diminishing. Such a diminution in our position might encourage a more aggressive Soviet global policy. The Russians have always been sensitive to the international leverage inherent in strategic power―and also in space technology, it might be added. In contrast to the philosophy of strategic parity, the Nixon Administration does not want to see the Soviets pull up to (or ahead or) us because―among other considerations―we cannot he certain how it would affect the Soviets’ behavior, since they have never actually enjoyed parity. Contrary to what has become a popular theory (a shibboleth, really) among present-day strategic thinkers, parity might well induce instability in the relations between the two nuclear giants rather than the hoped-for stability.
Within the United States, in the meantime, there is ample evidence that we are well into a debate over the composition of the American strategic nuclear force for the l970s and beyond. The issues are similar to those advanced during the “great strategic debate” of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Not surprisingly, the semantics also strike a familiar note.
In the 1950s the Air Force advocated counterforce doctrine, and the Navy countered that this smacked of a first-strike concept―a strategy that had been ruled out by our national policy. Opposing the Navy’s finite deterrent or “city-busting” concept, the Air Force observed that this made no provision for the gradations of warfare―it was all or nothing. Historically (or, as some would put it, with the precious advantage of hindsight), it can be said that in large measure the issue as it was thus presented (either/or) was a false one. The U.S. could not adopt one strategy to the exclusion of the other. Thus, we adopted neither totally but instead opted for a combination. Based on the evidence to date, it would be surprising if the present debate turned out to be substantially different from the one of a decade ago.
This new controversy rests on the assumptions that U.S. policy will be
guided in large part by the public’s desire for less foreign involvement and
more emphasis on ameliorating domestic problems; that the Soviets will continue
to deploy the SS-9 ICBM; and that the defense budget might well continue to
shrink substantially in the immediate future. The Navy has moved quickly to
argue the need for a larger sea-based nuclear deterrent that would feature the
undersea long-range missile system (ULMS).1 This system is still in
the early planning stages. The SS-9, according to the Navy, makes the USAF’s
land-based Minuteman ICBM increasingly vulnerable. The Air Force, on the other
hand, notes that antiballistic missile (ABM) deployment will afford a greater
measure of protection for its hardened Minuteman sites and that the Minuteman
could be made mobile. Too, the Air Force has continued to make a strong case
for the B-1 Advanced Strategic Bomber.2
In all likelihood, the strategic debate this time around will be somewhat muted―at least publicly. The great dialogue of the late l950s and early 1960s featured Albert Wohlstetter, Klaus Knorr, Bernard Brodie, Henry Kissinger, Oskar Morgenstern, Herman Kahn, and others. But the conditions are quite different now, and many of the earlier participants seem to be preoccupied with other concerns, ranging from the plight of our cities to scenarios on the year 2000. Also, as Bernard Brodie observed, some of them got burned with Vietnam and have little stomach left for a new round. And, of course, Henry Kissinger is now President Nixon’s Assistant for National Security Affairs and has therefore removed himself from the ranks of the commentators.
Furthermore, we are still fighting a war in Vietnam, and while the Nixon Administration has made it clear that the process of Vietnamization is “irreversible,” it seems reasonable to assume that the process will take some time. Beyond the fact of the war itself, Vietnam has smashed some widely held beliefs and strategies, primarily those associated with the “flexible response” philosophy of the Kennedy-Johnson years. It remains to be seen whether this administration or some regime in the future will revert to a strategy grounded on a “no land war in Asia” policy featuring strategic deterrence and a top priority to European affairs. At any rate, so long as the war and the casualties continue (even at a reduced level), there seems little hope that our focus and our energies can be given over wholeheartedly to concerns elsewhere. The debate of the late 1950s evolved against a more quiescent domestic background and was fueled by the launch of Sputnik I and the bursting of the ICBM revolution.
But there seems to be a deeper and more fundamental reason for the suspension of informed, critical analysis―for the malaise in stimulating commentary, if you will. The pace of our technology has not only outstripped our ability to cope with our daily lives (especially in the great metropolitan areas), but it seems to have ground down our capacity to think in coherent geopolitical, strategical, historical, and philosophical terms. The compulsion―indeed, the necessity―to frame our thoughts in numerical analysis has apparently all but obviated the need for a larger and more meaningful frame of reference. We are all the poorer for this debilitating onslaught of statistical hocus-pocus—a veritable cacophony that seems to paralyze our critical judgment. This trend appears to have been accelerated by our experience in Vietnam.
The British historian H. A. L. Fisher once said that the only safe rule to follow was to be ready for the unforeseen contingency. This is good advice. For despite the immense technology we have at hand, we are still unable to see into the future with anything approaching certainty. Nevertheless, it is necessary to plan as best we can based on our very limited perspective at any given point in time. It does seem safe to say that the end of an era seems to be at hand. This period was marked by the failure of the strategy of controlled and flexible response that came into being with the Kennedy Administration and subsequently was applied to the fullest by President Johnson. With its obvious legacy from two Eisenhower Administrations, the Nixon regime is unlikely to make the fatal error that Lyndon Johnson did―that of adopting a policy for which there was a disinclination to pay in terms of military power and domestic economic adjustment. Also, the President is obviously cognizant of Eisenhower’s success in deterring both large- and small-scale Communist aggression during the 1950s.
However, it should be observed that it is difficult to generalize about Vietnam. Although the U.S. went a long way in observing self-imposed restrictions, there remains no absolute assurance that in different circumstances at another time (e.g., when our own vital interests are more clearly in jeopardy) we would not intervene in a substantial way. Today’s reaction to Vietnam does not necessarily provide us with firm clues as to future behavior. But implicit in what Mr. Nixon has already outlined in the so-called Nixon Doctrine enunciated at Guam and in his foreign policy message is the conviction that a sense of proportion must be reintroduced into American policy. A balance must be struck between excessive intervention on the one hand and an excess of isolation on the other. Reliable foreign and military policy is rarely made in the emotional backlash of something like the “no more Vietnams” dictum.
If we are to give critical attention to our national priorities, it is necessary that our foreign and military affairs be in good order. President Nixon is saying that in any particular part of the globe we must think through the American national interest very carefully. Although we shall continue to play an active role internationally, it is absolutely necessary to our well-being that we be much more selective in the use of American power. And when our power is applied it must be done quickly and effectively. Writing to Dr. Theodore von Kármán in November 1944, General H. H. (“Hap”) Arnold observed: “It is a fundamental principle of American democracy that personnel casualties are distasteful.”
Yet it remains true that no administration can start from scratch with completely brand-new ideas, free from constricting policies of the past. Our strength is not infinite; even our resources are limited; there are things we might wish to do that we cannot do; even a President’s judgment is apt to be wrong; and events and historic currents may conspire against us. Nevertheless, national strategy must always be dictated by national factors—by the structure, values, and aims of our society. These flow from the very character and psychology of our people. It is in part an outlook, what the Germans call Weltanschauung. Our policies must spring from the nature of our institutions and from our national tradition.
When they do not, we are apt to get into trouble.
Silver Spring, Maryland
Notes
1. See the statement by Navy Secretary John H. Chafee in the Navy Times, 14 January 1970: editorial, “We Must Move Our Nuclear Deterrent to Sea,” Navy Magazine, February 1970; William McGaffin, “Navy Pushes Undersea-Missile Plan,” Chicago Daily News, 8 January 1970; and Captain Ralph E. Williams, Jr., USN (retired), “After Vietnam,” United States Naval Institute Proceedings, April 1970. In his article, a First Honorable Mention Prize Essay for 1970, Captain Williams says: “The proposal here is to move our strategic nuclear striking force to sea. Let us put all of it to sea.”
2. For a consideration of how the B-1 might fit into American deterrent strategy, see John L. Frisbee, “The B-I—Blue Chip in the Deterrent Stack,” Air Force and Space Digest, April 1970, pp. 45-48. Also see Frisbee for a reasoned case against Polaris as the sole American nuclear deterrent in “Let’s Have Three for Deterrence,” Air Force and Space Digest, June 1970, pp. 28-31.
Herman S. Wolk (M.A., American International College) has been with the Office of Air Force History since 1966. For seven years he was a historian for Hq Strategic Air Command. During the Korean War he served in the U.S. Army information and education program. Mr. Wolk has taught history and lectured on strategic nuclear deterrence and matters related to the cold war. His articles have appeared in Air Force and Space Digest, Military Review, and Air University Review, among others.
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this
document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression,
academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official
position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air
Force or the Air University.
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