Peace is in the air in Europe, or rather—because there has been a sort of peace for a long time—there is a growing desire to get rid of the tools of war. In fact, a curious new profession has emerged in the shadow of this long period of relative peace—that of the disarmament expert. The term itself is a triumph in dissimulation, but it is, nevertheless, well-accepted in NATO that these experts exist and meet from time to time to pursue jointly their mysterious business. Over the years it has not mattered much whether or not we had disarmament experts. The whole question of disarmament was largely academic. But it is no longer academic. The Leonid Brezhnev statement endorsing the general principle of force reductions in Europe had the immediate effect of giving urgency to the studies on force reductions. And the Mansfield resolution calling for substantial U. S. reductions in NATO, while defeated decisively, was widely regarded in Europe as the writing on the wall.
The French have a nice word for this euphoric air of relaxed tension—“détente”—and the mood in the West these days is marked by a longing for it. The real question is whether this understandable longing for détente, with its presumable easing of military expenditures, will be balanced by logic and caution, or whether there will be simply a one-sided slacking off. There is that danger, and it stems from a very real contempt on the part of many otherwise responsible people for all things military coupled with a growing conviction that the Soviet Union is no longer up to anything very sinister.
Nevertheless, it is probably time to take a hard look at NATO. The fact that it has been singularly successful is not in itself reason for leaving it alone. On the contrary, its long and successful run may carry the seeds of its undoing for, in the absence of any believable recent threat to the peace of Western Europe, the whole subject of preparedness has become an expensive bore. But an informed look at something as complex, even fragile, as the NATO Alliance requires a point of view. This point of view must include, always in focus, the other side—the competition, so to speak.
It is probably a fair assumption that war in Europe is neither imminent nor likely as things stand today. The operative phrase is “as things stand today.” It may also be true that the Soviets have no hostile intentions toward the NATO Allies, at least in a military sense but, in all fairness, we must at least entertain the notion that they might have hostile military intentions. For quite apart from what their diplomats say, the Russian are clearly improving their military capability—not necessarily their intention, but their capability—to subjugate Europe.
Again, this extravagant outlay for conventional forces may simply reflect a die-hard suspicion on the part of the Russians towards the motives of the West.
There is also just the chance, as we have agreed, that the basic motivation of Russia has not changed. TV statements of Soviet military leaders stand on the record, and they make uncompromising reading. Marshal V. D. Sokolovsky, editor of Military Strategy, an official Soviet military publication which presents not only the views of the Ministry of Defense but also, and perhaps more important, those of the Central Committee of the Communist Party, said in a discussion of the nature of modern war:
“The Soviet Union and the countries of people’s democracy, in order to protect their socialist achievements, will be forced to adopt . . . decisive aims directed towards total defeat of the armed forces of the enemy with simultaneous disorganization of his interior zone, and towards suppression of the enemy’s will to resist, and rendering aid to the people to free them from the yoke of imperialism.
“A future world war will require of the Soviet Armed Forces, of the entire socialist camp, the use of the main military forces from the very outset of the war, literally in the very first hours and minutes in order to achieve the most decisive results in the shortest time possible . . . Therefore, not only is a high degree of combat readiness of the Armed Forces required, but the entire nation must be specially trained for war against the aggressor.”
But if we cast around, we can find other Russians who do not sound so fierce and we can read signs that seem to bode well for détente. If the West ignores the Marshal Sokolovskys and chooses to follow the pleasanter sounds, then NATO must look to its future in reduced terms.
Viewed superficially, an alliance formed to defend its members against an attack by the Soviet bloc no longer makes much sense if the Soviet bloc clearly has no intention of attacking. At this point, a reasonable question arises as to the need for the present NATO troop levels or, in fact, for NATO at all. However, we agree to keep the other side in clear focus.
An examination of the Soviet bloc, or Warsaw Pact, over the past ten years shows it to have had an undeviating upward trend in equipment, in modernization, in money, and in total strength. The strategy of flexible response, requiring as it does heavy outlays for conventional equipment, may be a NATO doctrine, but it has been a doctrine more thoughtfully provided for by the Soviets and their Allies. The comparative strengths shown in Figure 1 are revealing.
Figure 1
Comparative strength of NATO and Warsaw Pact
| Northern and | Southern Europe | ||
Category | NATO | Warsaw | NATO | Warsaw |
Combat and | 580 | 900 | 525 | 370 |
Main battle tanks | 5,500 | 14,000 | 2,100 | 5,000 |
Tactical aircraft in |
|
|
|
|
—Light Bombers | 16 | 240 | — | 30 |
—Fighter/Ground Attack | 1,400 | 1,300 | 600 | 200 |
—Interceptors | 350 | 2,000 | 250 | 850 |
—Reconnaissance | 400 | 400 | 100 | 100 |
THE INSTITUTE OF STRATEGIC STUDIES PUBLICATION. “THE MILITARY BALANCE 1970–1971”
Even a casual look at the relative conventional strengths of the two alliances makes one thing clear—NATO is a defensive alliance. It simply does not have the numbers and weight of equipment to launch an attack, even were it guided by the most suicidal of strategies It is clear to a casual observer and it must be equally Clear to Russian planners. NATO does not have a serious non-nuclear offensive capability.
And the other side? Anyone, after doing a few easy sums, will arrive at the conclusion that the Warsaw Pact has, in general terms and particularly in significant items such as tanks, the 3:1 ratio of superiority all cautious Soviet generals like to have before attacking.
This gives rise to another simple question. If the Russians have no hostile intentions, and NATO, regardless of any intention it might secretly have, has not the capability to attack, what is the Warsaw Pact doing with such a heavy and costly preponderance of strength?
It is, of course, anybody’s guess. Perhaps they need all these forces simply to maintain order in their uneasy alliance with the Western satellites. This seems unlikely now if it were in fact ever true. Undoubtedly some of these forces are there to maintain order and, from time to time, they have been used in just that fashion as we all remember so well. But they do not need the sophistication and the numbers that are presently available to the Warsaw Pact for the purpose of internal order; and, as we have seen, they do not need them purely for the defense of Warsaw Pact territory. China is a rising specter to the Soviets and some of this heavy defense outlay may be traced to this cause. But why do they keep forces needed for China thousands of miles away in Western Europe? What a simple and reassuring prelude to force reduction negotiation it would be if Russia transferred a significant number of their Warsaw Pact forces to the Chinese frontier.
Nonetheless, it is unlikely at this time that Russia is planning any truly aggressive actions, in the classic sense at any rate, against the West. There are no obvious signs that would indicate this and it seems to be clearly against their interests at the moment to start a war.
If that is so, perhaps these Soviet, and Soviet-equipped, forces serve a simpler purpose: an ever-present and threatening reminder of Soviet strength in Europe. When one couples this military presence with the spectacular accomplishments of Russian science, the effect on some people is ominous and downright discouraging. It need not, and should not, be.
In the early days of the Cold War, and particularly during the tense year of the Berlin Blockade, it would not be an overstatement to say that the appearance of a Soviet platoon, accompanied perhaps by two or three tanks, in any Western town along the German border would have created absolute panic. A panic that probably would have spread rapidly and with disconcerting, if not catastrophic, effects on the shaky political apparatus of Europe during that period. Had it not been for the U. S. nuclear superiority during those years, it is at least arguable that the Soviets would have moved through Western Europe, either in small forays or in strength. There was nothing to stop them. The Allies had essentially demobilized after the war and their forces in Europe were occupation troops, equipped and deployed for that purpose. Only U. S. nuclear bombs, and the capability to deliver them, stood between Russia and the whole of Europe.
Today, any small incursions, for whatever purpose, could be dealt with without question. Regardless of the fact that NATO is at some disadvantage wherever it faces the Warsaw Pact, the Soviets would have to mount a major attack in order to carry out any successful demonstration of force. And, in this case, it would clearly no longer be the use of military force for the support of some limited political maneuver but would, in fact, be war.
Thus, the maintenance of even an inferior force so long as it is big enough to be truly credible becomes an essential counter to the very great Soviet military presence. To go back to the early days of the Cold War, it is easy to forget what a dangerous game played and on what tenuous threads hung success. It is equally easy to forget that every successful confrontation with the Soviets has had as its basis a clear display of strength and firmness of purpose.
Sometimes we forget how much the Russians respect the direct approach and how little attention they pay to conciliatory behavior. One of the more remarkable incidents during the Berlin airlift, and one which received little publicity then or later—possibly because of diplomatic outrage—took place at Tegel Airport.
The French had not had much of a part to play in the Berlin airlift, although they shared with the United Kingdom and the United States responsibility for the government of West Berlin. Because air traffic control was best served by the least number of aircraft types, it had been agreed to turn the flying job over to the British and the Americans. Nevertheless, the French wanted a part in the operation and so they offered to build a third and much needed airfield, Tegel, in their sector. It was an old German tank ground and well suited for the purpose.
The French commandeered thousands of Berlin citizens and made ingenious use of rubble to supplement the limited building material in Berlin. In remarkably short time the airport was finished and ready except for one serious obstacle: directly in the traffic pattern stood a broadcasting antenna some several hundred feet high. Moreover, it was the transmitting antenna for the principal Russian station in East Berlin. Clearly Tegel could only serve a limited purpose so long as this antenna stood in the way.
The Americans and British set about negotiating with the Russians for its removal, and with, of course, little hope. The French considered this solution utterly unrealistic and recommended the destruction of the tower. But it was the view of the British and the American authorities that this would be an extreme provocation and might endanger the airlift itself.
A few days later, without either warning or consultation, the French quietly but firmly locked in their offices the few Americans at Tegel. Then, without further ceremony, a platoon of French demolition experts marched out to the tower and, with precision, blew it to the ground. Done with serious work for the the day, the other side of their Gallic nature then emerged at a champagne party celebrating the great event.
In spite of the alarm of the Americans and British, the French were convinced that the Russians would understand that it was the logical thing to do. In fact, the French were right. Russian retaliation was confined to minor harrassment [sic], a kidnapping or two.
More than 20 years have passed since those days. Most of the people who planned the airlift and the defense of Europe in the immediate postwar period are no longer on active service. Governments have come and gone. Many of the lessons learned by the West during those hectic and crucial days have been forgotten or have suffered the sea-change of two decades of the ebb and flow of western European politics. Not so with the Soviets, though. The monolithic nature of their government slows changes and retains the past further into the future.
World War II and its stepchild, the Cold War, are receding into history. If the Soviets remain quiet, with no more Hungarys or Czechoslovakias to stir old memories, the Cold War, and its premonitions of a Hot War, will recede even faster. A listing of contemporary problems by the average Western politician probably would not put the danger of war with the Soviets very high on that list. Soviet planners have a somewhat simpler problem with their own work generally uncomplicated by the voice of the people. Long-range international plans, whatever they may be, need not be subordinated to the immediate internal needs of the country. All that is needed is resolve and time to see these policies through.
A good example of Soviet resolve can be seen in the tremendous growth of the Soviet Navy. Post-World War II naval policy concentrated on the building of submarines. The submarine, with its ability to disrupt lines of communication, was a natural choice for an inferior seapower. However, disruption is not control, and lack of control was perhaps decisive in Soviet decision-making during the Cuban crisis. The merchant fleet could not be escorted. Russia then turned to building a true fleet, a surface, seagoing Navy. Less than ten years later, the Russian flag can be seen in the Indian Ocean, the Caribbean and, most evidently, in the Mediterranean.
Where does all this lead? Clearly the increasing budget pressures, if nothing else, probably spell a change in national NATO commitments in the coming years. If these changes are made with only budget considerations in mind, which is to say, mindlessly, then we can predict a process of rapid erosion and the eventual demise of this successful alliance. But if some real thought is given to force improvement, and if we accept the fact that the principal mission of NATO is to maintain the peace rather than to fight the war, then change is possible. It might even be a useful change, but we have to keep clearly in mind the fragile nature of this unlikely structure. And we must also keep in mind the fact that if we begin pulling out support without having done our calculations, the structure will be irrevocably demolished. After that, we can only pray for the future of Europe in its present form. The means to preserve it will be gone.
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General Milton currently is serving as U. S. Military Representative to the NATO Military Committee. He began his military career with the Army Air Corps after having graduated from the U. S. Military Academy in 1940. During World War II, he served in the Eighth Air Force in England. After the war, he was Chief of Staff for the Combined Airlift Task Force, the command that directed operations for the Berlin airlift. General Milton has also commanded the Thirteenth Air Force, been Deputy Chief of Staff, Plans and Operations CinCPac, Inspector General of the Air Force, and Comptroller of the Air Force. Prior to his present assignment, he was the Deputy Chairman of the NATO Military Committee.