Document created: 18 August 03
Air University Review, March-April 1975

New Waves in the South Atlantic

A Strategy Needed?

In what used to be an ignored corner of the globe, changes are occurring. The South Atlantic is the scene of both long-term and immediate changes in strategic formulas. The United States, in additions to the counties of that region, is looking at military and foreign policy questions concerning that area with great care. The problems to be faced have implications for coming decades, and answers will have to include some long-range thinking about the future of that region. This article, of course, can only outline some of the alternative scenarios, but anyone interested in defense policy will want to explore at greater length the implications of American policy in the South Atlantic. With that in mind, let us consider American policy in the past, the challenge to present development, and the possible future.

the past

Prior to 1960 the South Atlantic caused few anxieties. The countries of Latin America had more than enough problems to handle. Africa was an apparently quiet continent, ruled by colonial powers that were members of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). The area was untouched by the cold war, and Great Britain kept the maritime peace from bases in Gibraltar, South Africa (Simonstown), and its island colonies. The air did not need to be ruled, since the South Atlantic was on the path to nowhere. The most advanced aircraft in the region were reconditioned C-47s of World War II vintage. Thus, for obvious reasons, the American government and the U.S. Air Force had few interests in the area.

There were some important aspects to South Atlantic defense, nonetheless, relating mostly to the sea-lanes around the Cape of Good Hope. Yet nobody had reason to be concerned for their safety, since all the powers in the area had an interest in keeping the sea-lanes free and open to tankers of all nations.

This situation lost its routine character, however, with certain long-term changes in Africa and Latin America and in non-Western strategic thinking. In addition, these changes were compressed into the last fifteen years, a time when American defense thinking was concentrating on problems in Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East.

African states began obtaining independence in large numbers about 1960, with significant changes occurring almost immediately thereafter. Most continued to follow the lead of their former mother countries in foreign policy, but it took only one or two independent-minded leaders to change the situation. Pressure from moralistic African leaders caused the British to lower their military visibility in South Africa. The national governments of South Africa then took on more defense activities of their own. The new African states pushed for the removal of all European powers from the African continent, the Indian Ocean, and the South Atlantic. The Liberation Committee of the Organization of African Unity has continually given material and moral support to liberation movements. 

A few of the newly independent states also invited nontraditional powers into the area. In a sense, the United States made its first important impact on the area after 1960, but so did the U.S.S.R. and China. In Nigeria the Russians helped supply and finance the federal government during the Nigerian civil war and have remained to occupy key positions in the burgeoning oil industry and budding steel mill complex. Their military ties remained close enough for the Nigerians to send a military delegation to Moscow in October 1973 to check out possible arms purchases. Soviet influence was strongly felt at various times in Ghana, Guinea, and Tanzania, but two areas merit special mention. In Somalia, the U.S.S.R. has clearly been establishing a position—port facilities and a communications base in the north bought With IL-28s, MIG-17s, and SAM-2s—that would match the efforts of the U.S. in the Red Sea-Indian Ocean area. The U.S.S.R. appears to have little interest for the moment, however, in escalating that strategic race, being satisfied with occasional port courtesy calls, the latest being the three-ship convoy en route from Suez Canal work to the Black Sea. When observed during a call at Mauritius and while transiting the Cape of Good Hope, the convoy consisted of the helicopter cruiser Leningrad, a destroyer of the Kachin class, and a support replenishment tanker. Such conventional forms of the Soviet presence must be balanced, of course, against small arms shipments and training given to the liberation movements of southern Africa. The quantities of those gifts can hardly be measured, being transferred frequently from the arsenals of Eastern European and third world friends.

The Chinese have tended to establish themselves on land, extending an offer that was accepted to build a railway from Dar es Salaam in Tanzania inland to the Zambian copper belt. The American presence has taken nonmilitary forms, with prominence given to the Peace Corps, bilateral aid programs, covert operations (as in the former Belgian Congo), NASA tracking stations, and the normal operations of U.S. corporations.

The Latin American side of the triangle was changing as well. Increasingly nationalistic and willing to thumb their noses at the norteamericanos, some Latin Americans found it profitable to establish relations with, first, Western European countries and later with Communist states. Such international trade and arms purchases became more common in the late 1960s, as Peru, Chile, Brazil, and Argentina expressed their self-confidence by breaking the Yankee monopoly. Thus in Argentina today the Air Force is mostly British-equipped; the Brazilian Air Force has 16 Mirage III-EBR's on order; Chile bought a cruiser for its Navy from Sweden in 1972; Venezuela is buying its fighters from Canada and France. Even Ecuador turned to Britain to buy its armed trainers (BAC-167) in late 1971. There were, of course, parallel developments in the economic and political fields, as the Latin Americans attempted to declare their independence from outside assistance.

Such were the long-term changes that began to stimulate a few Americans to new thinking about the southern hemisphere, including the South Atlantic. It was a process of reaction: to the gradually increasing Soviet naval presence in the Indian Ocean, to the withdrawal of Western Europeans from Africa, and to the fact of weakening United States influence in South America.

Short-term changes have been equally important, particularly in the last year. The dramatic change, certainly, has been that of the government in Portugal and subsequent indications that the Portuguese African colonies would obtain independence. Such a change is now accepted as inevitable by all sides. Moreover, the new governments of Guinea-Bissau, Mozambique, and Angola would clearly be led by men who succeeded in their quest for power by means of Chinese and Russian arms. The United States shipped school books to the rebels of Mozambique, through the efforts of Janet and Eduardo Mondlane, while the Russians shipped carbines and the Chinese provided instructors in guerrilla warfare. Mondlane, formerly the leader of FRELIMO (the Mozambique component of the Conference of Nationalist Parties of the Portuguese Colonies), is now dead, having been assassinated in 1969, and the leadership is in the hands of those who appreciated guns more than books. Such a dramatic change in power dearly alarms the remaining white governments, Rhodesia and South Africa, as well as the United States, whose assumptions about the power distribution in the South Atlantic are being destroyed. By 1975 the stakes are not simply tramp freighters limping around the Cape. Western Europe obtains nearly 60 percent of its petroleum supplies via the Cape route, and petroleum supertankers will continue to use that route even after the Suez Canal is reopened. Admittedly the United States gets few vital supplies via the Cape of Good Hope, but if Western defense interests include a stable supply energy to Western Europe, American strategic interests in the southern hemisphere are at stake.

With the most to lose, the South Africans have been the first to react. South Africa has not traditionally searched out foreign alliances. External affairs were to be pursued only when necessary, which meant that South Africa had ties with neighbors—Britain, Australia, and recently the United States—but few other countries. The year 1973 caused changes South African calculations. At the time the Yom Kippur war, South Africa received the honor of being placed on the oil boycott list. Iran did not honor that list and continued to supply at least 40 percent of South Africa's petroleum needs. Needless to say, South Africa has been cultivating even closer ties with Iran. In recent months, for instance, the South African president visited Iran. In late January 1974 the South Africans carried out joint maneuvers with ships from Great Britain's Royal Navy. In that exercise the British supplied the naval component, and the South Africans supplied the air force to hunt phantom submarines off the Cape of Good Hope. Contacts between the British and South Africans had been at a low level in recent years, limited largely to the supplying of the British frigates lying off Beira that were trying to keep oil out of Rhodesian fuel tanks. Thus the joint maneuvers were an important indicator of South African and British relations. Whether such ties will survive the attainment of a majority by Labour in the British parliamentary elections cannot be predicted.

The South Africans, though, have seen possibilities across the Atlantic also. Trade between South America and South Africa has generally been minimal, with a steamship of the Nedlloyd Line making the trip every week or two. More symbolically, the Cape-to-Rio yacht race is held every three years in January, the latest in 1974. Such a nautical tie translated into military relationships would please the South Africans greatly, but by all indicators the ties had been fairly weak until 1974. Events were to take a different tack, as Brazil became interested in the South African connection.

Brazil had long had ambiguous feelings about Africa. In 1972 the Brazilian Foreign Minister made a well-publicized trip to eight black African states. The junket, however, had few strategic implications, since the Foreign Minister was more interested in mustering support for higher coffee prices under the to-be-negotiated International Coffee Agreement. At the same time Brazil had certain natural bonds with the Portuguese territories through shared language and culture. But Brazil in 1974 saw itself as joining a fancier club of nations. It was booming economically, urging a higher birth rate to populate the inland frontier, talking of developing nuclear weapons, and seeing itself as the paramount power in Latin America. As Professor Robert Pfaltzgraff noted in a recent issue of this journal, "The growing strength of Brazil will give that rising power a role of unprecedented importance in Latin America."¹ South Africa wanted to link up with that power. The inauguration of General Ernesto Geisel as President of Brazil in March 1974 was attended by South African Foreign Minister Muller and the Chief of the South African Navy, Vice-Admiral Johnson. Such a mission at that level, especially when sent by the South Africans, has more than simply courtesy implications. Relations were clearly warming, as indicated in the announcement of June 1974 that their respective diplomatic legations would be raised to embassy status. The improvement in relations can be expected to continue.

Relations between South Africa and Paraguay were the focus of President Stroessner's five-day visit to South Africa in April 1974. Such a trip was also unprecedented in terms of those two countries' relations. The immediate implications of that visit were clearly more economic than military, as South Africa contracted to help Paraguay undertake exploration for minerals. But the gesture on South Africa's part indicated a real urgency in its efforts to find common ground with the South American countries. It seems clear that South Africa was rebuffed by Argentina because of the latter's internal instability.

The most important leg of the strategic triangle, however, lies in the role of the United States in the South Atlantic. If American interests in that area are security and stability, a means of dealing with the major powers, Brazil and South Africa, will have to be found.

South Africa has made several approaches to the United States since the Portuguese coup. In January 1974 the South African Minister of Information, Cornelius Mulder, paid visits on then Vice President Ford and Vice Admiral Ray Peet, in charge of overseas military sales. In May more discussions were held in Washington by Admiral Hugo Biermann, South African Chief of Staff, with Admiral Thomas Moorer, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and Navy Secretary J. William Middendorf II. The desire for closer ties is clearly present; the problem is for each side to determine the basic strategic needs and the political price that can be paid to obtain them. The same problem will be present in U.S.-Brazilian relations.

The principal cost to the United States of closer ties in the South Atlantic lies in the nature of the domestic politics of both Brazil and South Africa. Both profess to be democratic, and yet both are under attack from many parts of the world for allegedly repressive policies toward domestic opposition. South Africa has been under particularly strong attack, both at the United Nations and from official quarters of several American allies in Europe, for apartheid, a policy of racial segregation that the United States has voted to condemn at the United Nations. The degree to which Americans are committed to opposition to South African domestic policies will affect the ability of the American government to coordinate defense planning with the South Africans. The American government is under a great deal of pressure from many groups of domestic interests opposed to any dealings with South Africa at all. The formation of ties with Brazil and South Africa will thus involve the cost of alienating the segment of American opinion strongly opposed to the two governments.

Present developments thus push the American government in two directions, and like a man trying to stand in two boats at once, the government's policies may fall into the sea. Pressure for a decision on strategic policies is building, with the Navy asking for a go-ahead on constructing the Diego Garcia base in the Indian Ocean, which would have implications for the South Atlantic. Political pressures for a clear policy toward the newly independent Portuguese colonies southern Africa are stronger, going in both directions. Delaying a decision is f a policy, since that merely gives the initiative to other countries. A purely defensive policy would satisfy none of American goals in the area.

American policy in the South Atlantic will need to be defined in response to all these long-term and short-term changes. But it will also need to reflect the American attitude toward new middle-level powers such as Brazil and South Africa. How does one deal with a country that is only slightly important on a global scale and yet very important in a particular region? The United States has faced this dilemma before and has never found a consistent solution. The South Atlantic will be another test case. The two major solutions that can be foreseen will be labeled "nationalist" and "internationalist." Each term can be explained in context.

The "nationalist" approach to the problem of the South Atlantic would involve two basic goals: preservation of American interests in and through the area (thus including the oil shipping lanes) and maintenance of those interests at the least possible cost, preferably using American military forces to achieve it. Such an American "nationalist" approach has many historical precedents and should be explained.

This view is based on the notion that the United States is the strongest power in the world and thereby has the right (and perhaps the obligation) to defend its own interests. Reliance on allies is discouraged, especially when dealing with relatively unstable states such as Brazil or South Africa; their stability, after all, is hardly assured. In a way, too, the major states in a region such as the South Atlantic could be viewed as rivals. Any accretion of military power in the hands of the South Africans, for instance, would mean greater problems if at another time they were hostile to American interests. Thus any strategic ties formed in the area would be with weak, small states that could be easily manipulated and would demand little for themselves in return for the American presence. Potential friends of that type might be Liberia, Zaire, or independent Falkland Islands.

A major element in "nationalist" thinking is cost, and that means cost in both political and financial terms. Ties would be made with small states because the political costs would be minimal. The degree of military accommodation would be small, in contrast to the elaborate security needs of South Africa and Brazil. The political cost of developing Diego Garcia Island as a base in the Indian Ocean, for instance, is nothing in terms of the host government, as the island is owned by Britain; and the financial cost is also small. More important allies demand large aid packages as the price of bases. Portugal and Spain have been receiving large payments every year for decades so that the United States can have strategic bases in those two countries and in the Azores.

Indeed, a good "nationalist" analysis would compute the cost/benefit ratio of the American presence in the South Atlantic. The cost to date has been small. It is increasing rapidly and may already have surpassed the benefits. Some "nationalists" would urge either a more economical method of maintaining American interests or simple withdrawal. But there we can see that some would hesitate. Many factors elude precise pricing, particularly the potential benefits of the region.

An "internationalist" would take a broader view of the issues. Departing from a narrowly military viewpoint, the person with "internationalist" views operates on several assumptions. The first is that world politics is multipolar. Not only has the nuclear club expanded and thus changed international politics but those countries with the immediate potential of developing nuclear weapons need to be accorded due respect as well. A second assumption is that one can better preserve the peace through cooperation than through competition and confrontation. One can thus imagine what conclusions such an analysis would provide for the South Atlantic.

The policy would first concentrate upon the existing important powers in the area. Brazil and South Africa would be the targets for obtaining cooperative agreements. Few other countries in central and southern Africa would be worthy of much attention, although a few of the other states in South America would be catered to, particularly if Argentina can stabilize its politics. Cooperation with the two major regional powers would embrace all spheres of governmental activity, not merely the military. From the "internationalist" point of view, after all, all areas of activity are related. If agreement can be found in political, social, and economic matters, military ties will naturally follow. Or they will be unnecessary, since the South African and Brazilian militaries would be able to carry out American goals.

There would be a notable expansion of other forms of American influence, such as increased investment by U.S. multinational companies, more trade, and large aid programs (economic assistance and arms purchases). Such ties can be important in mitigating some of the political costs otherwise incurred. In the case of South Africa, for instance, multinational corporations have been used as a form of pressure for changing the apartheid laws. In Brazil, on the other hand, American aid ties have been criticized for accommodating to local police practices rather than trying to change them. Such ties obviously do cut both ways, but each country has its own environment, and the ties will vary accordingly.

The overall goals of an "internationalist," however, would be to create a stable framework of governments in the South Atlantic and then allow a process of orderly change that would not threaten American interests directly or indirectly. But in contrast to the "nationalist" view, control over change would be vested in the local governments, as supported by the U.S., and not in the U.S. directly. Direct involvement of the U.S. would be discouraged as leading inevitably to costly imposition of American force in an area difficult to supply.

The "nationalists" and "internationalists" are both well represented in the American military and among the concerned public. The clash between their points of view is inevitable, but as to whether or not it is resolved at this time cannot be predicted. The South Atlantic is clearly important enough to deserve more attention, and when the issues are properly confronted we can expect one of these two points of view to prevail. After all, the South Africans and Brazilians are not inhabitants of mere banana republics. They are now powerful enough that American policy will either have to adjust to them or go around them.

Note

1. Dr. Robert L. Pfalrzgraff, Jr., "National Security in a Decade of Transition," Air University Review, July-August 1974, p. 7.