President Charles de Gaulle’s action in pulling France out of NATO and expelling U. S. troops from France did not so much mark a profound change in the NATO organization as it explicitly brought out into the open the conflicts of purpose within the Alliance that have been evident for years. That De Gaulle was against the principle of integrating military forces of the various nations under a NATO commander was known even before he came to power in 1958. That he was going to do something about it became unmistakably clear after the failure of the 1960 Paris Summit Conference. Even before that, in 1959, he forbade U. S. nuclear weapons on French soil and withdrew France’s Mediterranean fleet from NATO. The inclination is strong to single out these disrupting actions and accuse De Gaulle of atavism in wishing to go back to the loose coalitions that proved so costly in previous wars. To do so, though, would obscure the existence of major conflicting interests on the important issues of security, on German reunification, and on the future course of Europe. In the long run, these are the important issues —not the organizational structure of the military command.
Of these issues, none is more important for the United States and for its allies than protecting the lives and welfare of a community of 500,000,000 people. The central problem here is a concrete one: how to co-ordinate Alliance arms and strategies in such a way that defense remains strong and deterrence successful amid all the changes that have taken place and are bound to arise from the conflicts of interests and purposes of the member states. The perception of a diminished Soviet military threat, the growing strength of the European nations, and the vulnerability of the United States to Soviet nuclear attacks have all had an influence in evolving strategic differences in the Atlantic Alliance. The improved stability of the military confrontation now permits the nations of Europe to attempt to shape their individual destinies. Because each nation sees its destiny in different terms, each also conceives of different means or strategy to achieve its objectives.
There is a clear incompatibility between the American concept of the defense of West- ern Europe and the strategic concepts of the European nations which put more emphasis on deterrence. While we proclaim that our strategy is indivisible and that we have “undertaken the nuclear defense of NATO on a global basis,” some of our pronouncements and actions to create a strong conventional defense in Europe or even to increase the number of tactical nuclear weapons (as was advertised by Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara) are viewed by Europeans as an effort to confine the fighting to Europe while leaving the United States untouched. The U. S. argument for adopting a common strategy of flexible response based initially on conventional defense is seen by many Europeans as an indication that the United States will back away from employing nuclear weapons on issues that may be vital to the Europeans but not vital to the United States. Even when faced with a bona fide threat in the 1961 Berlin crisis, the proposed American strategy which incorporated a conventional probe along the autobahn was not wholly subscribed to by the other NATO nations involved. West Germany, in particular, wanted to preserve Berlin as the future capital of a reunited Germany and stressed the importance of preserving the quadripartite status of East Berlin. Bonn wanted no diminution of resolve on that score. In the end, this quadripartite status was lost by allowing the Berlin wall to be built. As long as European national interests and objectives vary from our own, the attainment of a common strategy is hardly likely. One has merely to recall Suez to bring home this point.
An important emphasis in U. S. limited war strategy is placed on a larger conventional buildup to provide “additional options.” This policy is not aimed at dependence solely on conventional weapons and forces for the defense of Western Europe. As Secretary of Defense McNamara pointed out, it is rather to “increase our capability to tailor our responses to a particular military challenge to that level of force which is appropriate to the issue involved and favorable to our side.”
Nevertheless, this emphasis on conventional options represented a clear change of strategy from President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s “New Look” and the officially adopted NATO strategic plans of 1954 based on using nuclear weapons whether the Soviet Union used them or not. At that time, conventional forces were regarded as a “trip wire” that could not hold back the enemy, but could act as a screening force to divine enemy intentions and to give the alarm that would allow the nuclear forces to strike. The precarious trip-wire concept, however, could lead to mistaking a border incident for a deliberate invasion. Under General Lauris Norstad, as Supreme Allied Commander, Europe, the role of conventional forces was enlarged to act as a substantive “shield” to protect the West from border incidents and to enforce a longer “pause” on the enemy so that he could reflect on the serious consequences of his military action, before the full weight of the West’s nuclear forces were launched.
On the surface, the McNamara conventional concept appeared to be very much the same as Norstad’s shield concept. Both sought the achievement of the 30-division goal on the central front. But the shield concept envisaged no more than a comparatively brief holding action to enforce a pause with these conventional forces, whereas Mr. McNamara envisaged using these forces for a “major incursion or probe” and for “even larger Soviet attacks.” Both concepts recognized the possible need for using tactical nuclear weapons. But the shield concept wanted to bring nuclear weapons deliberately into play immediately after the pause, whereas Mr. McNamara did not want to employ nuclear weapons until forced to do so by Soviet conventional forces overrunning NATO forces. As he put it, tactical nuclear weapons are needed “to deal with an attack where the opponent employs such weapons first, or any attack by conventional forces which put Europe in danger of being overrun. We mean to defend Europe with every kind of weapon needed.”
A second important characteristic in the U. S. concept is the doctrine of “controlled response.” This is most often discussed in dealing with the general war strategy. But controlled response has another meaning related to the use of tactical nuclear weapons in a selected manner for the Defense of Western Europe. That Mr. McNamara is at least uncertain of the utility of controlled response in tactical nuclear warfare is indicated by the exchanges between the Secretary of Defense and Maine’s Senator Margaret Chase Smith during the defense appropriation hearings in February 1963.
In one place, Mr. McNamara pointed out that “The principal reason for having strong tactical nuclear forces is to cover the intermediate range between conventional war and global war.” In another place, he suggested that small nuclear weapons to close a pass or blow up a bridge would “not necessarily” escalate to a higher threshold. “But,” he went on, “by using nuclear weapons in this way we must recognize the possibility that our opponent will also perceive an advantage in using them on a similar or larger scale.” Later, Mr. McNamara stated that “The uncertainty and dangers of escalation which could arise from the initiation of tactical nuclear weapons must be apparent to the Soviet bloc leadership as it is to us.” Accordingly, he thought that the Soviets would not be likely to perceive an advantage in initiating the use of nuclear weapons for “they would do so with the full knowledge that the NATO nuclear response would be powerful and immediate. It would in all likelihood mean general nuclear war.”
The ambiguity in these statements could be calculated. Mr. McNamara suggests that tactical nuclear weapons are made available to be used under certain contingencies, but to use them would in all likelihood bring on general nuclear war. Again, on 23 February 1966, Mr. McNamara stated: “A theater nuclear capability is to deter Soviet use of tactical nuclear weapons in an attack on Western Europe, to permit us to respond in kind if such weapons are used, and to support U. S. and allied forces as may otherwise be required.” Except for the ambiguous third clause of this statement, the tenor suggests that tactical nuclear weapons would be used only in retaliation. For, as Mr. McNamara further confesses, “It is not yet clear how theater nuclear war could actually be executed without incurring a very serious risk of escalating to general nuclear war.” Coupled with insistence on providing stronger conventional options, it is clear that the United States intends to follow a strategic concept in Western Europe that relies on conventional defense—at least initially.
The very uncertainty and dangers of escalation to general nuclear war from the initiation of the use of tactical nuclear weapons, which the Secretary of Defense thinks “must be apparent to the Soviet bloc ...” is also apparent to our European allies. From the European viewpoint there are some serious objections to the American concept of conventional defense and “controlled” tactical nuclear response at the dire moment that NATO forces are in danger of being overrun. The American concept relies on a postponed threat of nuclear retaliation. Nuclear deterrence is counted on to prevent a continuation of an enemy invasion that a conventional defense fails to stem. Presumably, the threat of using tactical nuclear weapons at the outset is regarded as too implausible for the enemy to believe, but that he would then consider the deterrent threat plausible later when our forces faced defeat. We would then expect him to halt the attack he had started!
A basic European objection to the American strategic concept is the explicit dependence on conventional forces to cope with large Soviet attacks. A major conventional war is considered not only undesirable but infeasible. The memory of the devastation brought by conventional weapons in World War II is still fresh, and the Germans in particular object to having a large portion of their homeland reduced to a battlefield while the homelands of the two super powers remain intact. Furthermore, the distances are short and the densely populated area between the Iron Curtain and the Rhine does not permit room for maneuvering the large forces required to execute a successful conventional defense.
Some Europeans (and Americans) profess to fear that reliance on conventional defense— considered inadequate by many—might encourage the Soviets to indulge in limited aggressions at lower levels of conflict by a “quick grab” or fait accompli. In other words, they accept implicitly the assumption that the credibility of the U. S. deterrent has been weakened, that some sort of “nuclear” standoff does in fact exist and that the Soviet Union could rationally attempt a purposeful, limited aggression in Europe without risk of reaching the higher level of stimuli that would trigger a nuclear response. Four important factors argue against the validity of this belief. The first is the record of manifest caution exhibited by the Soviet Union in any military confrontation with U. S. forces, no matter how minor. A second factor is the Soviet leaders’ unwillingness to subscribe to the distinction between general war and limited war in Europe. The third factor is the added disincentive created by the existence of the independent French and British nuclear forces. The fourth factor, paradoxically, is the very inconsistency in the U. S. declaratory strategy and the disposition and composition of U. S. forces in Europe, organized and equipped as they are for nuclear war. All of these factors make it extremely unlikely that the credibility of deterrence in Europe will be degraded in the eyes of the Russians.
European leaders recognize that the United States depends on nuclear deterrence for its own survival. They also understand that the limited war concept of flexible response—as it serves to protect the allies—is based on the logic of U. S. national self-interest. They see nothing wrong in having a choice of conventional as well as nuclear options to deal with various contingencies. What they object to is not having the same choice of options for themselves. They mark well the U. S. priorities that emphasize the nuclear option as the most vital for survival. But many of the European nations do not have this nuclear option —nor the unambiguous and early commitment of the United States to use nuclear weapons when their vital interests are at stake. It is hardly any wonder that these European nations are reluctant to expend their resources on additional conventional forces before the nuclear option, vital to their ultimate survival, is provided.
This is an important point. Some of our European allies accept our commitment to come to their defense without questioning it. For the smaller nations, it is practically the only alternative available to them. The problem is mainly with Germany—for France and Great Britain have their nuclear options.
The logic of the American strategic concept of flexible response is judged by U. S. national security and U. S. geographical position. But the same considerations of national security apply to other nations within the Alliance whose territories are not geographically separated from the scene of potential battle. The obligation of a state to protect its citizens and its territory is conditioned by the understanding that threat to any part is subordinate to the preservation of the state as a whole. The state may be forced to sacrifice part to preserve the whole. But the obligation is compelling for a state to protect its security and to devote whatever resources are needed to preserve the harmony of the whole without destroying the vitality of the parts.
The same obligations in theory apply to an alliance. But in practice the obligation is not as strong. History is full of broken treaties, abandonment of allies, and reversals of alliances. The Europeans are conscious of this and they are determined not to subordinate their own national security to preserve the alliance. They have no intention of permitting their homelands to be regarded as a “part” that might be sacrificed in time of war to preserve the vitality of a so-called indivisible alliance whose core is the United States. The Atlantic Alliance is to them, as it is to the United States, an instrument to preserve their own security. Alliances are made for national purposes, not the reverse. Thus, European fears center around the “flexible” American strategic concept for a limited war in Europe that might be limited or terminated at the expense of the allies. That the American concept has wide acceptance among Americans is quite natural. The point of this discussion is that it does not enjoy wide acceptance among Europeans.
The American strategy for limited war is a war-fighting strategy in the traditional sense. It has the objective of defense and a successful defense implies victory, or at least stalemate, on the battlefield. How well the American concept of flexible response can stand up to enemy attack in practice and achieve victory—a standoff, a restoration of the status quo ante, or even positive political goals—depends to a large extent on the military force postures of both sides. The presence of sufficient well-deployed military forces are essential to provide a successful defense. But what constitutes “sufficiency” depends on the kinds of action the enemy might undertake. One must examine a range of contingencies and alternative courses of actions. As Timothy W. Stanley has pointed out, some of the “most disastrous military mistakes in history have resulted from trying to make a choice of terrain, tactics, timing, and weapons for the enemy. One has to assume not one or two possibilities, but a full range of actions of which the enemy is capable.” On the other hand, one does not have to try to anticipate every conceivable contingency. There is a limit to the range of actions that are remotely plausible in the European context. In the first place, any outbreak of conflict in Europe would take place under an umbrella of strategic deterrence. Before one can examine various conflict contingencies, it is necessary to ask why should any conflict—aside from a border incident—take place at all.
In the over-all context, stable nuclear confrontation is generally assumed to exist— at least insofar as a nuclear exchange between the two super powers. This stability is based on the firm conviction, verging on certainty, that nuclear retaliation would result in such unprecedented death and destruction to the attacker that no nation would initiate the first strike.
But nuclear deterrence may be used for other things such as deterring a non-nuclear attack. Here the element of uncertainty creeps in. Such a deterrent strategy can still be successful so long as the threat is made to appear to the opponent commensurate with the vital interests of the nation making the threat, and it raises doubts in the mind of the opponent whether the objectives he seeks are worth the risk. But if the stakes seem at the time to be relatively minor or peripheral, it will be difficult to make the threat of nuclear retaliation credible. The enemy may then take the chance of achieving his modest goals—such as the Berlin blockade of 1948 and building the Berlin wall in 1961—particularly if the means available to the other side appear insufficient to deny him success.
Uncertainty in the effectiveness of nuclear deterrence to cover every kind of threat has impelled the United States to seek a range of options between what is clearly vital to U. S. national interests and what is not. For what threatens our vital interests, nuclear deterrence is based on certainty of retaliation; for what threatens national interests that are not considered vital, nuclear deterrence has an element of uncertainty about it. In an attempt to remove the uncertainty from the latter category, the United States has attempted to structure a careful series of graduated threats and commitments that would be more credible than the threat of nuclear retaliation alone. The measures structured consist of a mixture of (1) attempts to convince the enemy that the U. S. national interests are vital, (2) not-so-credible threats of nuclear retaliation, (3) more credible threats of conventional defense backed by the postponed threat of using tactical nuclear weapons, (4) the actual commitment of conventional force to battle in the event that the first three fail to deter, and (5) the ever-present articulated or tacit threat of nuclear escalation that accompanies any armed conflict.
These measures may not, however, remove the uncertainty. One could argue that the United States would not intervene with nuclear weapons in Europe in the face of the risk that the U. S. homeland might be attacked. One could also discount the credibility that France would use her force de frappe to “trigger” an American nuclear response. These are legitimate arguments. But at the same time, one must also take into account the credibility of the threat of a Soviet invasion of Western Europe. The two sides of the credibility equation must be considered together. In other words, how plausible or credible would be a major Soviet invasion of Western Europe coupled with American and French abstention in the use of nuclear weapons? The record over the last 20 years and the force deployments in Western Europe would suggest that the combination of these two credibility factors balances out. Stated differently, the probability that the Soviet Union would refrain from an attack in the face of American and French threats to use nuclear weapons is exceedingly high. This indicates that either deterrence is credible or that the Soviet Union has had no intention of attacking Western Europe or both.
The prevalent view that a Soviet military threat in Central Europe has receded (if it has not disappeared entirely) appears to be based on evidence and logic. The historical evidence is a record of manifest caution by the Soviet Union in any military confrontation with the United States—particularly in the face of the strong United States commitment of the Seventh Army, Third and Seventeenth Air Forces, thousands of tactical nuclear weapons, the implied threat of the U. S. strategic nuclear forces and the support of the not inconsiderable European NATO forces in West Germany. The logic of this commitment would indicate to both sides that the decision in fact has been made to defend West Europe with all means necessary. This immediately places the onus on the Soviet Union to decide whether acquiring all or part of Europe is worth the cost. This is different from the many arguments on relative military capabilities that deal only with the comparative cost of defense versus offense. The value of the objective must also be judged and it is usually more valuable to the side that is in possession.
But assuming the Soviets place a value on the objective that would lead them to accept the cost of military aggression against Western Europe, one would have to pursue the argument further and ask what objective and what cost. Assume the objective would be the seizure of West Germany to prevent Germany from acquiring an independent nuclear force. The cost would be a certain nuclear war either initiated at the start by the Soviet Union in accordance with its doctrine or initiated by NATO as the Western forces are being overrun. For it is generally conceded that the NATO forces cannot defend against a major conventional invasion without resort to nuclear weapons. If on the other hand, one speculates that NATO would be able to defend against a major conventional invasion, then the Soviet Union would not achieve its objective unless it is prepared to resort to nuclear weapons herself. In any event, the Soviet Union must calculate in advance the cost in terms of nuclear destruction and lives lost for acquiring West Germany. If so, why should the Soviet Union not use nuclear weapons immediately and benefit by the tremendous advantage of surprise? Furthermore, can it be imagined that the Soviet Union would plan a deliberate invasion to seize West Germany without significantly reinforcing its forces or without having the Satellite states mobilize their defenses? Can it be imagined that the reinforcement would go unnoticed or that the Romanian, Polish, Czech, and Hungarian leaders would go along quietly with the plans for such a deliberate aggression?
It has been suggested that the Soviet Union might seek a more limited objective— such as a “probe,” the seizure of a border town such as Lübeck or even a “Hamburg grab.” The idea would be to achieve a fait accompli quickly and place the burden of escalation upon the West. Now it is conceivable that such a surprise military operation could be successful in the initial action, provided it were mounted as a Blitzkrieg with a substantial force of at least three or four assault divisions. But it is most difficult to conceive that the Soviet Union would undertake major aggression for such limited objectives. First, such purposeful large scale conventional attacks are not consistent with Soviet war doctrine which stresses combined nuclear and conventional attacks in an attempt to seize the strategic initiative. Neither are they consistent with Communist doctrine of peaceful coexistence and avoidance of “adventurism.” Second, such “adventurist” moves clearly place in jeopardy Soviet core interests. The Kremlin leaders could hardly be certain that the thermonuclear standoff would prevent the United States from launching a strategic strike against the Soviet Union or from even using tactical nuclear weapons on the battlefield to prevent the seizure. In any event, the Soviets still would realize that the West could not accept such a sacrifice without taking immediate military steps to restore the status quo ante or at least to exact a comparable loss from the Soviet Union. Third, once committed to the defense of so vital an area with the NATO military forces at hand, the war would rapidly expand to a full scale European war and the pressures for nuclear escalation would be almost irresistible. This would hardly be an acceptable price for the Soviets to pay for a limited objective. A limited Soviet military aggression of the size of a “probe” seems on the face of it even more implausible than an all-out invasion. Yet, since it has been suggested as possible by responsible spokesmen on both sides of the Atlantic, it should be examined as a contingency.
The third and final contingency is the conflict that might arise out of a crisis or a miscalculation of NATO resolve. This is considered by most military analysts as the most likely contingency. The crisis might be an uprising in East Germany, the attempted seizure of power in West Germany by a resurgent nationalist group, the hemming in of an important military convoy on the East German autobahn in connection with a crisis at Berlin, or even a serious riot and storming of the Berlin wall. A crisis might be exploited by the Soviets to achieve what they consider minor or peripheral gains—gains that might be achieved by deterring NATO’s military opposition with the threat of escalation. (The burden would then be on NATO.) This would be in keeping with the Soviet strategic concept and with the Communist doctrine of eschewing “adventurism.” If the move is nevertheless opposed by NATO and conflict results, the Soviet Union would have the option of backing down, holding on to the gains so far established, or to push further. The last option represents the greatest chance of miscalculation and the greatest danger that the conflict would spread.
Crucial to the task of co-ordinating arms and strategies in an alliance for dealing with these contingencies is a definition of common political goals in the event of conflict. In the Atlantic Alliance, these have not been defined beyond the commitment of collective defense against an unidentified aggression laid down in the Treaty itself.
If conflict breaks out in Europe for whatever reason, the Alliance should at least have an agreed purpose in mind and certain clear political objectives. Each local conflict situation will vary accordingly to the circumstances surrounding the initial crisis, the value of the objectives and the conscious decisions of the two sides to join in battle. But when military forces join each other in battle there is only one purpose: victory. It is extremely difficult to conceive of circumstances where one side or the other would deliberately decide to resort to military force to attain an objective and then refrain from throwing the available military forces into battle to achieve victory or to avoid defeat. But it is not impossible to imagine that in an actual battle constraints would be imposed on the use of nuclear weapons by both sides to prevent the conflict from escalating to general war. Too much is at stake. From 122 to 149 million fatalities could result from a Soviet strike against U. S. cities and military targets. There is no doubt that the Soviet leaders understand well that Russia could expect carnage of similar monstrous proportions. But still, exercising constraints on force implies a limited political objective. The only sensible objective for the types of conflicts examined would be the minimum objective of restoring the territorial status quo ante helium on the least disadvantageous terms.
There are some practical problems that must be dealt with. The question is not an abstract one of whether we can restore the status quo with the military means at our disposal. The question rather is whether we can defeat or at least stop the enemy’s armed forces at a specific locale over a particular issue or whether we can actually use military force to threaten or to punish the enemy in order to induce him to back down. Once armed conflict takes place, the tendency on both sides is to take additional measures necessary to achieve a favorable outcome— but not measures that would worsen the outcome. To suggest, however, that both sides would be mutually deterred from using nuclear weapons out of fear of a worsened outcome suggests also that a conventional defeat is a more acceptable outcome. This may well be true, provided the conventional defeat is not one of vital proportions—or perceived as vital. But then the question should be asked if there are any conceivable conventional victory/defeat outcomes of armed conflict in Europe that would not be considered vital by one side or the other.
The record would indicate that whereas the Soviets have made threats, they have committed no acts of aggression against the Alliance. True, the Berlin blockade on the autobahn and railroads in 1948, the construction of the Berlin wall in 1961, and a number of lesser infringements on what the United States regarded as rights of access were accepted by the United States without recourse to force. None of these issues were vital, however. Furthermore, whereas they could all be regarded as infringements of rights, they could hardly be classed as acts of aggression. The United States, on the other hand, has taken special pains to create in Berlin a symbol of vital interests if not an American vital interest per se. The United States and the other occupying allied powers have made the freedom of West Berlin an unambiguous symbol of the West’s determination to resist further Soviet encroachment. To acquiesce to the loss of Berlin’s independence would cause such a serious blow to the West that it is hardly conceivable that the Atlantic Alliance could survive. It is even less conceivable that the city’s absorption by the Communists could be carried out without a fight. Finally, considering the absolute commitments made by the United States and its allies to Berlin and the impossibility of mounting an adequate conventional defense, there can be little question that the United States would use nuclear weapons if needed. In fact, this was made clear during the Berlin crisis in 1961. The Soviet threat of signing a peace treaty with East Germany and of creating a “free city” of West Berlin was resisted firmly by the United States. One could hardly assert that U. S. vital interests were involved at this stage. But President John F. Kennedy saw larger political effects in the move and, according to Arthur M. Schlesinger in his book, A Thousand Days, stated that “if we do not meet our commitments in Berlin, it will mean the destruction of NATO and a dangerous situation for the whole world. All Europe is at stake in West Berlin.” He gave serious thought to the use of nuclear weapons in the event force was required.
These factors would indicate that nuclear weapons would be used in important circumstances. First, McNamara’s idea that the European nations would come up with the additional forces to make a forward conventional defense-deterrence successful “for dealing with even larger Soviet attacks” has been dashed. The Alliance can no longer even reckon on the French divisions and aircraft. The war in Vietnam is placing a strain on U. S. resources and already 15,000 special American troop ratings have been withdrawn from Europe. Britain is also suffering from a chronic financial drain, and there are pressures to reduce the British Army of the Rhine even further. Second, the very existence of nuclear arsenals and elaborate plans for their use on both sides would indicate that any large conflict that cannot be terminated early enough would in all probability escalate to nuclear conflict. A third factor is the continuing nature of deterrence. Deterrence— whether it relies on conventional forces, nuclear forces, or a composite mixture—does not fail once and for all. The effectiveness of deterrence depends on the opponent’s belief that the necessary military action would be taken to match the value of the objective sought. Each deliberate step in escalation would signify a higher value placed on the objective. For example, if it were possible for one side or the other to use nuclear weapons in a distinct, obvious, and discriminate way on the battlefield to prevent the loss of a vital objective, it would do so rather than surrender. The burden of expanding the nuclear war beyond the battlefield would then be placed on the other side. But since each step in the escalation ladder brings the contestants nearer to general war—an outcome that neither side would want—it would appear that at some place along the line, graduated deterrence would work and restraint would be exercised by each side from the very start to keep the issue from becoming vital to either. Therefore, in pursuing the minimum objective of restoring the status quo, NATO must have a force posture that will permit it to react quickly to oppose any enemy move and to prevent the move from developing into a vital issue.
It is strongly suggested that the most likely issue would be small at the start and would arise from a crisis or a miscalculation of resolve. Since the most likely locale would be along the border partitioning Germany or at Berlin, strategic concepts should be examined in these contexts. Certainly, a response to low- level conflicts in line with the French strategic concept that hurls nuclear destruction upon the Soviet Union can hardly be considered a rational response, since it fails to consider that deterrence is a continuing phenomenon. If conflict starts by miscalculation, the proper response would be to take the necessary steps to prevent the conflict from continuing or from enlarging. Whether one accepts the American concept of a conventional response with a high nuclear threshold or the German concept of using battlefield nuclear and atomic demolition mines at a much lower threshold, one can certainly rule out the French concept of massive retaliation as a sensible way to achieve a minimum objective or to keep the lid on the fighting.
If France is serious about her strategic concept of “massive retalialtion” for everything but border incidents, one can only wonder why she desires to keep her two divisions in Germany. Their location in Germany is much too far from the Iron Curtain to be useful in a border incident and anything larger than a border incident is theoretically ruled out under her concept. But then France may perhaps plan on using these forces to block on German territory a larger “probe” or incursion before it threatens France. It is suggested that the geographical position of France permits her to entertain the concept of nuclear retaliation even for a “probe,” since a probe must first strike West Germany and by the time it threatens France, it is no longer a probe. General Pierre Gallois, a French strategic theorist, in discussion with the author, suggested that if the enemy threatened France from “outside the gates of Strasbourg,” the appropriate reply would be to strike Russia with nuclear weapons. This viewpoint indicates the kind of situation in which the French might regard nuclear retaliation as an appropriate response. Unanswered is the question of how the Soviets achieved this position “outside the gates of Strasbourg” without “bloodying” quite a few Americans and Germans in the process.
France’s true reason for wanting to keep her forces in Germany is more than likely “political,” to influence Germany’s action by retaining rights stemming from the Occupation relating to the stationing of armed forces in Germany until a peace treaty is signed for all of Germany. This would give France increased weight, vis-a-vis the Soviet Union: Russia stations troops in East Germany and France stations troops in West Germany.
De Gaulle’s calculated move to get American forces out of France would have a serious effect on the operation of the American strategic concept of flexible response in the case of any sizable penetration. The idea of depending on a conventional defense until the ground forces are in danger of being overrun before employing tactical nuclear weapons always suffered from logistic difficulties and lack of maneuvering room. Preoccupied as we have been with the central sector and the Thuringian gap, we nevertheless have recognized the possibility of being outflanked through the north Germany plain where the much weaker British Army of the Rhine is on guard. Theoretically, we could always have fallen back to a defense line along the Rhine and the Weser —perhaps comforted by the thought that we still had some strategic depth in France and in our logistic lines behind us. If the situation just described ever had any relevance to reality, it has all been changed with de Gaulle’s unilateral action. The one thing de Gaulle has done is to force us to re-examine our strategic concept for limited war—especially as it related to the defense of West Germany.
But one should not attach too much importance to erecting the straw man of a sizable Soviet penetration for the purposes of shooting down the American limited war concept. Clearly a conventional defense in such a case would be the worst possible application. For the more likely contingencies mentioned—a border or a Berlin crisis—an initial conventional response could very well be the only sensible one to employ. In a real crisis, a series of actions would very likely take place that would reveal how vital the issues are, and the governments would act accordingly. The logic of the situation—even to the French—would indicate that certain intermediate steps would be taken before inviting holocaust. The chances are, both sides would act to snuff out the conflict as quickly as possible with the minimum of violence. But if the conflict got out of hand and conventional defense-deterrence proved inadequate, then the problem would be one of when and how to initiate the use of nuclear weapons—keeping in mind the assumed minimum objective of restoring the status quo ante helium—with the least possible devastation and the maximum possible control to prevent escalation to a Europe-wide or general nuclear war.
This brings us face to face with the problem of escalation and the idea of a “fire-break” or distinguishable threshold of violence that once crossed would quickly cause the conflict to escalate to general war. Leading defense spokesmen of the major NATO nations have expressed this belief. The difference is that the U. S. concept calls for maintaining this firebreak at a high level of violence and provocation whereas European members would establish it at a low level to enhance deterrence.
That the so-called nuclear threshold, or firebreak, is clearly distinguishable is widely accepted. Hardly anyone subscribes to the view that a tactical nuclear weapon is just another weapon as was advocated by some enthusiasts in the early 1950s. Furthermore, the nuclear firebreak is the kind of unambiguous distinction that facilitates tacit agreement on constraints that prevail in war. History has shown that constraints defined in such clearcut categories are more reliable than those defined in quantitative degrees within categories. Thus, “no gas” in World War II was an easier limit to accept than “a little gas” or just one type of gas. Tacit acceptance in Korea of “no atomic bombs” was easier to understand than “small atomic bombs” on certain kinds of targets.
But admitting that a distinctive firebreak exists does not support the belief that crossing the firebreak would inevitably result in uncontrolled escalation to general nuclear war. In fact, the initial use of weapons that are so dreaded might have an opposite effect and shock the conflict to a standstill. There is a vast difference between the “danger of escalation” and the certainty of it. In the abstract, there is a certain logic in the American strategic concept for limited war in Europe for serving U. S. national interests. A local defense employing a flexible response might succeed or it might escalate to general war. But the threat of such a defense with the attendant dangers of escalation is at least a better deterrent to local enemy actions than a threat of transoceanic massive retaliation from the United States, if for no other reason than it is more believable because our troops and our weapons are on the spot and must be dealt with. On the other hand, establishing a firm ceiling on the conflict by adopting a policy of postponing the use of nuclear weapons until allied territory and ground forces are in danger of being overrun is not the answer. For then the issue becomes vital, and demands for tactical nuclear weapons to stem the invasion would be quite large and the unprecedented combat losses on both sides would exert pressures on the political leaders to expand the aims to something greater than the restoration of the status quo.
There exist two possible alternatives to this dilemma. First, the United States could adopt a strategic concept more in line with German desires. Such a concept would call for lowering the violence threshold or firebreak and giving an unambiguous commitment to West Germany that tactical nuclear weapons would be used much earlier than now contemplated. There are dangers to this approach. One might miscalculate the intentions of the enemy and use nuclear weapons when none are needed, and thus precipitate a nuclear battle which no one wants. There are also practical difficulties in establishing an arrangement for giving an unambiguous nuclear commitment to West Germany, difficulties that go beyond the obvious political problems involved. It is basically a matter of credibility. All the assurances in the world will not convince the Germans or the Soviets that the United States would use nuclear weapons unless it were clearly perceived that U. S. vital interests are threatened. As Secretary of Defense McNamara put it, “a credible deterrent cannot be based on an incredible act.”
The second alternative rests on the same psychological premise. But it seeks to improve the credibility of deterrence, not by enhancing the “vitalness” of our commitment, but by making the consequences of using nuclear weapons less horrendous by establishing other firebreaks or thresholds of violence at levels intermediate between the first use of nuclear weapons and a general nuclear war. The problem here is making the thresholds distinguishable. Making a distinction among nuclear weapons during war by judging their yield (except in the most general sort of way), by estimating the range and point of origin of the delivery vehicle, or by divining whether the collateral population damage was intentional or not, is for all practical purposes impossible in the confusion of battle. About the only hope of establishing a distinction between nuclear weapons in time of war is to base the distinction on the use to which the weapons are put. For example, nuclear weapons which impact only in a certain area and in no other may be distinguishable provided the accompanying dialogue is made explicit and unambiguous in both words and actions. Also, atomic demolition weapons (ADMs) may be very distinguish able as battlefield weapons because of their emplacement on defended territory and their immobility. However, there are three objections to their use. They must be prepositioned before hostilities to be of much use in fast moving actions, and this seems to be politically unacceptable. Present defensive concepts call for attempts to stop incursions conventionally before using nuclear weapons. If ADMs are placed near the violated borders, they are likely to be overrun before decisions to use them can be made. Finally, there is the dangerous and unmanageable problem of radioactive fallout.
Nevertheless, it may be possible to distinguish “battlefield” nuclear weapons from other tactical nuclear weapons used for purposes of interdiction and penetration attacks on military bases deep in enemy territory— not only by their smaller yield and lesser range but mainly by the fact that their bursts are confined to the immediate battle area. If the other side did not perceive the limitation, it would be because it did not want to perceive it. The precedence already has been established in Korea and Vietnam that certain targets could be treated as sanctuaries— as long as it appeared advantageous to do so. If one side struck airfields and other military bases outside of the battle zone, the action would be deliberate and not an unintentional violation of a limitation that the leaders would have failed to perceive. Whether such a distinction can be made in practice or not, efforts to do so by peacetime and wartime actions and pronouncements would at least create a presumption in the mind of the enemy, and among our allies, that the United States would be less reluctant to cross the “first use” nuclear firebreak in certain circumstances. This could only have the effect of reinforcing graduated deterrence. This conclusion is supported by the expressions of concern by Soviet leaders over the U. S. concept for limited war and for the use of tactical nuclear weapons to keep a European war limited.
