Paul Cornish

Beyond the EU/NATO dichotomy: the beginnings of a European strategic culture

The European Union and its member states have moved with considerable speed towards the creation of a European Security and Defence Policy (ESDP). Whether what has been achieved so far adds up to a revolution remains a moot point. The Common Foreign and Security Policy of the Maastricht Treaty has not always been noted for its binding character, and too often the debate over security and defence has degenerated into an artificial, zero-sum-type game between Atlanticists and Europeanists. What is required for the success of the ESDP is not simply continued commitment to achieving the Headline Goals set out at Helsinki in 1999, but also the development of what the authors call a ‘strategic culture’, i.e. an institutional confidence and processes to manage and deploy military force as part of the effective range of legitimate policy instruments of the Union. The authors argue that political commitment at the highest levels has been underpinned by the institutionalization, within the Council Secretariat, of the ‘military option’ in the form of the Military Committee and a Directorate General for the EU’s Military Staff (DGEUMS). Even more importantly, there are already signs, especially through such concepts as ‘security sector reform’ and ‘structural stability’, that the EU, through its development and humanitarian programmes, has already recognized the necessity of military solutions.

European security: the end of architecture and the new NATO

This article looks at the three institutions which lie at the heart of the debate about European security after the Cold War-NATO, the WEU and the EU-and in particular at the changing relationship between them. Focusing on the June 1996 meeting of NATOsforeign ministers, and the development of the Combined Joint Task Force idea, this article asks how and why the European security debate developed as it did in 1996, and what a European Security and Defence Identity might actually amount to.

Clausewitz and the Ethics of Armed Force: Five Propositions

The work of Carl von Clausewitz continues to provoke heated debate. For some scholars, Clausewitzs On War remains indispensable to serious thought on the resort to war in the modern period. Others, however, see Clausewitzs work as either outdated, or a morally repellent argument for unlimited, unrestrained and brutal warfare. This essay argues not only that Clausewitzs work continues to be relevant to discussions on the use of armed force, but also that On War provides a framework for ethical reflection on war and its conduct. Two main preoccupations of western military academies and staff colleges—Clausewitz on the one hand, and the just war tradition on the other—can complement, rather than rival each other. On War creates a space for reflection on the use of armed force, and for that reason if no other, should still be considered an important resource for contemporary students and practitioners of strategy.

Governing Cyberspace through Constructive Ambiguity

At the heart of the cyber-governance problem is a fundamental disagreement over the relevance and significance of state sovereignty.

Fragile Logic: Strategic Plans, 1945–47

With Germany’s defeat, Britain’s relationship with its former adversary immediately took on an entirely different character. In its zone of occupation, Britain now became wholly responsible for social, political and economic affairs. While many military tasks attended Germany’s defeat, tasks which were carried out using military resources and Montgomery’s command structure, the whole panoply of civil affairs planning and organisation, which had been in preparation for so long in Britain, was now brought into effect.2 The military had also been preparing for some time for Germany’s defeat. Yet VE Day did not mark a complete and sudden change of attitude on the part of the COS and their planners. With the exception of a tentative involvement in US planning for war in Germany in the short term, British military thinking and strategic planning for Germany in the immediate aftermath of the war were characterised more by caution and incoherence than by anything pro-active and far-sighted.

The Defence Budget, 1945–50

The desperate condition of the British economy in the immediate aftermath of VE day is well known. Keynes provided a vivid summary of the problem for the new Labour government in the first week of August 1945. Britain had accumulated overseas debts of about £3,100m and had lost about £1,100m worth of overseas income through sale of overseas assets, and about £7,000m (25 per cent of national wealth) on the costs of the war. Between 25 per cent and 30 per cent of merchant shipping assets had been sunk, and although exports were yielding about £400m, the balance of payments was in deficit owing to the need for £1,100–£1,200m to maintain wartime levels of consumption.2 Following the surrender of Japan, problems were exacerbated within days by the termination of Lend-Lease from the United States and Mutual Aid from Canada. At a stroke, Britain was cut off from £1,350m of vital assistance. The landmarks in post-war economic reconstruction in Britain are equally familiar: from the Washington Loan of December 1945 to the convertibility crisis of 1947; from Marshall’s speech and the beginning of the European Recovery Programme, to the devaluation crisis of 1949. In spite of American assistance, Britain remained economically destitute during the Attlee governments, a constant factor in civil and military thinking about Germany, Europe and strategy generally.3

Token Forces: Strategic Plans, 1949–50

In mid-December 1948,2 Slim conceded that the occupation forces should at least be made ‘battle-worthy’, by reorganising and training first one division, but had been reluctant to make any promise of reinforcement. He wanted to stimulate the Europeans into providing for their own defence, and was convinced that Britain’s ‘main effort’ in any war in Europe would be at sea and in the air. The first COS meetings of 1949 show that Slim’s view reflected something of a consensus within military planning circles. Defence of the WU seemed a lost cause and it was important not to create ‘the impression that if a big enough land contribution could be made, the position would be satisfactory’. Britain could make no contribution to WU defence without additional effort coming first from France and the Benelux countries. But then, even had it been possible to fund a large-scale commitment of land forces — which it was not — the strategic thinking of the day would rule out such an option in favour of action in the air (the strategic air offensive) and at sea.3

The ‘No War Rule’

Held to be a crowning example of budget-driven, civilian mis-management of military affairs, and an illustration of the perils of failing to consult professional defence planners in matters of national security, the no-war rule of 1919–1933 has clearly made a deep impression on strategic thinking in Britain. But what is most interesting about the above comment is not that it was made in mid-1990, but that it could also have been uttered in, and of, the late 1940s. During post-war discussion of strategy and resources a variation of the rule was developed which, like its predecessor, still crops up in contemporary defence policy debate in Britain.

Consolidation of the Cold War: Strategic Plans, 1947–48

From the end of 1947 military thinking about Germany became more certain, albeit in a negative sense: there was now even less willingness to entertain a continental strategy. The basic budgetary, technological and doctrinal prejudices against military involvement on the Continent went largely unchallenged and were even given something of a boost during interventions by Attlee at the end of 1947. The Future Defence Policy paper (FDP — DO (47) 44), which provided the framework for strategic thinking during 1947 and beyond, implied further movement away from military involvement in Germany.2 From early 1948 Britain was involved in new planning discussions — most notably those with the Americans — which, again, postulated movement away from Germany both conceptually and physically.

Threat Perceptions, 1945–50

A military threat perception has at least two components; an assessment of a potential adversary’s capabilities along with a prediction of his likely intentions. A clear division of labour is often thought to exist in the development of the assessment, with capabilities a matter for military staffs, while intentions are thought to be more the stuff of sophisticated political and diplomatic analysis: In estimating the security threats the military man looks at the capabilities of other states rather than at their intentions. Intentions are political in nature, inherently fickle and changeable, and virtually impossible to evaluate and predict. The military man is professionally capable of estimating the fighting strength of another state. But judging its policies is a matter of politics outside his competence.2