Admiral Dewey to the contrary, the Navy l and politics indeed have much in common. Through the years this relationship has fluctuated—as we shall see—and it appears today the pendulum is starting another swing.
The Founding Fathers rightly had a fear of governmental domination by the military. They knew of this happening in Europe, whether it was a Caesar, the Comneni of the Byzantine Empire, or the condottieri of the Renaissance. But in popular thought, it was always the general on horseback who might ride permanently into the White House. It was never the Navy of which our leaders were afraid.
In like manner, our first naval officers were more divorced from politics than their Army counterparts. Unquestionably many naval officers finagled vigorously for specific commands, but not one of them ever took part in any political action or office of great national significance.
Will such a situation continue to be the case? What today is the relationship between the naval officer and politics? Let us examine the past, the present, and guess at the future. . . .
The Past
Throughout history, naval leaders have been involved to some extent in politics. The very fact that they became naval leaders was in itself a signThey were successful politicians. In the early days of navies this was only natural: the tactics were relatively crude, while personal bravery, motivation, and successful organization of seamen were the touchstones of victory. Who could accomplish this more successfully than the politician? Certainly the term “politician” has today fallen into disrepute, but let us always remember that the successful politician, by the varied requirements of his career, must be an extremely talented individual. Politics by definition is
The science and art of government; the theory or practice of managing affairs of public policy or of political parties; hence political affairs, principles, or the like . . .
It was rightly considered much more difficult to govern a Greek city than to lead a clump of galleys to sea, beach them each night, feed and rest the crews, and return to port a few days later.
In the thousands of years during which Mediterranean wars were fought by galleys, battles remained essentially fights between “two mobs of ships.” Few naval leaders were chosen because of their unique ability or understanding of the sea. For every naval genius such as Phormio of Athens or Agrippa of Rome there were innumerable naval leaders (good and bad) who owed their commands to proven abilities in other fields, almost invariably politics. Consider a few of the greatest: Themistocles, glib-tongued, wily victor of Salamis; Memnon of Rhodes, the heroic but tragic Persian satrap; the Pompeys, father and son. Who even remembers the names of the Roman consuls—politicians all—who won the decisive sea battles of the Punic Wars? No sane Byzantine emperor ever considered entrusting his fleet to anything but a politically reliable henchman.
In short, naval leaders for thousands of years were first and foremost successful politicians. This did not guarantee victory at sea, but it did insure that the demands of the era for victory at sea were most successfully met. It was the jack-of-all-trades politician who recruited the men, organized the shipbuilding, procured the consumables of war, and inspired the troops aboard to fight their best. A politician could learn naval tactics in little time indeed: “If the ram misses, there is always the sword, and may our Gods give us victory!” The organizer and administrator was the important man, not the tactician nor the technician.
But tactics and weapons grew more complex, even before the end of galley days. Greek fire, the crossbow, and gunpowder ushered in the technician. Centuries of experience gradually proved that tactics involved more than a few aphorisms. Politicians continued to be retreaded into admirals. Even at Lepanto in 1571, it was political leaders such as Don John of Austria who won. But more and more they looked to the lowly pilots and specialists for guidance.
With the advent of sailing vessels—carracks, galleons, and caravels—politicians and seamen began to part ways. Tactics became more complicated and weaponry followed suit. Another factor entered the picture: no longer were ships confined to coastal waters. Seamen began to search out the trade routes of the world and to fight for them. To leave court for a weekend battle was quite a different matter than to spend a year at sea under what might euphemistically be termed miserable conditions. For politicians there was always the “out of sight, out of mind” feeling about being away from the center of government. Finally, with nations replacing city- states, navies ceased to be something common to all citizens. Each inhabitant of Venice or Genoa could feel that his navy was close to him, and so it was—literally. Not so for the citizens of Burgundy, Warwick, or Bavaria; it was only the seaport towns of France, England, or the German States which knew their respective navies. The politician guided —and perhaps fed on—the shoreside navy, but increasingly kept his hands off the forces afloat. The unfortunate Duke of Medina- Sidonia perhaps ends this first phase: Lord Howard may have been his English counterpart, but it was sea dogs such as Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher who truly did the Spaniards in. The 1588 date may not be exact, but it is as good as any other to mark the swing of the pendulum when the politician at sea was replaced by the naval officer.
Increasingly the shoe was squeezed onto the other foot. Men becoming successful as naval officers were retreaded into politicians. In fact, England owed much of her national stature to this fact. The fictional Lord Hornblower is a composite of such seamen as Anson, Hawke, and Nelson—eventually all became peers. The Admiralty and the nation felt quite rightly that men who proved their leadership and technical ability upon the sea were best fitted to administer ashore. But mark this: those naval officers who became politicians were not national leaders; at most they became naval politicians. A corporal- turned-emperor ruled France, but in England a seaman-become-First Sea Lord confined himself to supervising the fleet. St. Vincent might debate in the House of Lords (“I do not say they cannot come, my lords; I only say they cannot come by sea”), but his actions as a politician were restricted to those things concerning the sea.
Enter the U. S. Navy. It is pleasant to think that our traditional ancestors—Jones, Preble, both Perrys, Luce—were efficient naval officers who did not intrude on the political scene. Not so; they entered the political arena frequently: pressured their congressmen, visited the President, and more than one used every bit of political pull he could muster. But note this well: these seamen stuck to their guns. When they entered politics it was with a specific naval objective in mind. Jones fought for efficient naval organization, Bainbridge fought for a naval school, Matthew Calbraith Perry fought for steam, Luce fought for training seamen at sea, Sims fought for better gunnery. One feels that all these men could hardly have been altruistic; they must have had personal axes to grind. True, but in each case the axe is at most a tiny hatchet. Those naval officers, and many others, turned part-time politician to make the Navy a more effective fighting machine.
So far did the pendulum swing toward naval officers becoming politicians that .before the days of rapid communication the Senior Officer Present Afloat on foreign station was a practicing diplomat. Decatur’s successful negotiation of treaties with Algiers and Tripoli and David Porter’s last decade as minister in Constantinople are not isolated examples; they are symptomatic.
Our closest naval officer-almost-become- politician was Admiral Dewey, of course. His quoted statement above forgotten, he flirted naively in 1900 with the presidential nomination. His actions at the time simply proved the truism of his remark.
Even as we approach current times, we find that naval officers were suitable candidates for ambassadorial and other governmental posts: witness Admirals Leahy, Standiey, and Land. But does this perhaps mark the ultimate swing of the pendulum in this direction?
The Present
Now what of today? Opinions are a mishmash of controversy. Some claim military men are dominating the government (“look how many ex-military men are in decisionmaking governmental jobs”). Yet others postulate our military machine is managed by overly-complex layers of civilian leaders insulated by hordes of entrenched civil servants whose slogan is “war is too important a matter to be left to the military men.” Where does the naval officer stand in this picture—for remember that we are dealing only with the U. S. Navy.
To begin with, we can agree with Janowitz, Heilbronner, and others that the dividing line between the naval officer and the politician is thinning. Any admiral, for example, must have many attributes of the successful politician—his ability to deal easily with people; his public speaking ability; his ability to get to the root of any question, no matter how unfamiliar; his ability to motivate men; his ability to weave a comprehensive picture from a mass of contradictory information. Likewise the governmental-level politician must have some of the flag-officer attributes: a broad grasp of international affairs, firsthand knowledge of far places, even some technical knowledge of the capabilities and limitations of naval weapons, ships, and planes.
This is not to say that either can efficiently replace the other without much additional training and experience. However, I do stress that after a divergence for hundreds of years the two types now tend to overlap somewhat. Strategy today is a medley of all services and all weapons. Unquestionably the first mission of any naval officer is to know his job and his service intimately. The higher one goes, the more interwoven the pattern of the services becomes. At grand strategy level the interplay becomes so complex that decisions are essentially geopolitical. At this level, if not much sooner, the naval officer must prove himself the peer of his political counterpart.
Second: what is true of admirals is also true of junior naval officers. A hundred years ago the Navy was generally confined to coastal areas. Today the Naval Establishment embraces the nation with supply depots, naval air training centers, ordnance plants, and naval reserve training centers, to name but a few. Even salt-water ships now reach the Midwest. Such a situation means increasing contacts with civilian counterparts in everything from industrial relations to PTA meetings. A fundamental attribute of any politician in his ability to deal successfully with others on their own home ground. Since most naval officers deal with civilians ashore rather than at sea, the naval officer becomes a politician at least to that extent. In fact, this awareness of “the big picture” may already have gone too far, especially in the junior ranks. Increasing contact with the outside world of industry appears to emphasize the traditional political talents (e.g., organizational aptitude, handling men, administrative ability) at the expense of professional attributes: navigation, shiphandling, and a “fleet-conscious” attitude.
Third: like it or not, the naval officer is becoming at least part politician in dealing with other facets of the Executive Branch: our sister services and the Department of Defense. It is not enough to rest on our oars, boast of past accomplishments, and simply state our present efficiency and abilities. It has been rightly said that merely mentioning that our product is good will not sell it. To survive the in-fighting of the Washington scene, our protagonists must develop the flexibility—and unbending will—of a Lincoln. In the Thirties, Admiral Yarnell could successfully squelch the Congressional query of an appropriation item by saying bluntly, “Why the hell would we put it there if we didn’t need it?” Such is no longer the case. Whether it be appropriations, missions and tasks, or strategic objectives, naval officers are forced to develop all the techniques and wiles of practical politics to justify their positions. If adaptability is the key to survival, it is certainly not unnatural that naval officers learn the “do’s” and “don’ts” of politics. And what is true of the Washington scene is true on a lesser scale elsewhere.
Finally, fewer and fewer naval officers vegetate after retirement. In this respect it should be noted that almost invariably those starting a “second career” shun politics. This is a combination of inclination, previous training, and tradition. In any case the nation is yearly enriched by a highly capable group of individuals. They command attention because it is accepted that they are experienced, able, patriotic, and objective. No doubt axes are ground on a few occasions—for example, equalization of retired pay. But taken all in all, the large numbers of retiring naval officers are political factors locally and nationally because of what they are and what they stand for as individuals.
The Future
What of the future? From our study of the past and our analysis of the present, can we perhaps guess at some of the forthcoming relationships between politics and the naval officer? What are the trends with their attendant pitfalls?
First, it is safe to assume that all naval officers will, at a minimum, continue their close liaison with civilian and governmental counterparts. This, coupled with foundations of broad, general education, will inevitably result in an emphasis on political abilities, perhaps at the sacrifice of seamanlike ones. Regardless of subsequent specialized training, naval officers will observe that dealing with people outside the Navy involves as many officers (with consequent time and energy) as does dealing with personnel and equipment in the Navy.
The interplay of ideas, duties, and experience between the two types has several facets. As this continues it is logical to expect more criticism from each. The naval officer will increasingly tend to analyze the civilian activities with which he deals. The politician will increasingly tend to analyze the naval organizations and procedures which he sees. This, of course, is both good and bad. It produces some good results by interchanging ideas and forcing re-examination of procedures heretofore, perhaps, automatically accepted as hallowed by time. This may also be destructive by making either too much like the other: a ship existing solely to fight at any time cannot be organized and run identically to an industrial plant or a democratic city government.
The ultimate result of this interplay of overlapping functions and mutual analyses might conceivably be an Executive Body beside which the dangerous “single service” concept pales into insignificance. It might not, alas, be too fantastic to conjecture one massive, powerful Service for government consisting of fused politician-military-civil servant-scientists in which no one is a jack-of-all- trades, few are masters of one, and the vast majority are specialized specialists.
Secondly, there is the cliché of “familiarity breeds contempt.” No longer is the Navy simply a picture on a local movie screen or a sea story told by a young man home on his first leave. In one shape or form it is physically close to almost everyone in the nation. But familiarity breeds contempt only if navy men are not worthy of respect. Certainly the past has proven their merit, collectively and individually. There is no indication that our intra-nation people-to-people program will not continue to be successful.
Finally, one feels that the pendulum is starting its swing back to replacement of the military by the politician. A sufficient number of stimulating books has been printed lately by retired officers of other services to obviate summarization here. Suffice it to say that the problem of increasing civilian management— not simply control—is far from gnat-sized. The Navy appears to be entering a politically defensive era.
Such a trend could result in naval officers becoming too flexible, both as a group and individually. Naval officers traditionally have had a reputation for blunt speaking. This has resulted in acrimonious discussion at times, but if anything it has increased the respect in which they are held. Diplomacy and politics seldom utilize the Ernest King approach. Naval officers of all levels will have to insure that they continue to stand up and be counted when decisions are made.
Conclusion
There are some trends. All of them—or even most of them—need not necessarily come to pass. But what happens in the future depends on what we in the naval service do about it now. We must, of course, be fully aware of the growing interdependence between political-governmental groups and the Navy. But let us think of the political aspects as simply another dimension of the Navy. We understand the sea itself, the waters beneath, and the air above it. Of necessity we must also understand this important fourth dimension. But we must never, never forget that this understanding of politics is essentially another aid in gaining and maintaining control of the sea. Should it ever become an end in itself, then the Navy as an efficient fighting machine will suffer irreparably. No matter how much the naval officer may evolve, no matter how much the requirements of his profession may increase, of one thing we may be sure: the quintessence of naval efficiency is professional ability. Victory at sea will be won by men who understand the sea. The naval officer’s thoughts and his interests must first and foremost lie with his element, the sea. As Joseph Conrad once wrote:
“And now the old ships and their men are gone; the new ships and the new men, many of them bearing the old auspicious names, have taken up their watch on the stern and impartial sea, which offers no opportunities but to those who know how to grasp them with a ready and an undaunted heart.”
“The major deterrent is in a man’s mind. . .Stamina, guts, standing up for the things that we say— those are deterrents. Weapons alone are not. . . .”
Admiral Arleigh Burke