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Chinese or English, the banner stretching above British ratings sashaying down a Shanghai street translates the same: the purpose of the British warships’ visit to China in September 1980, their first since 1949, was to extend the hand of friendship—one of three hands that can be played when one country’s warship visits another country’s port.
When Admiral Horatio Nelson said, “1 hate your pen-and-ink men; a fleet of British ships of war are the best negotiators in Europe,” he had in mind the naval branch of coercive diplomacy. But what about those more innocent occasions when the visit of warships to a foreign port carries no hint of the use or threat of naval force? What kinds of diplomatic contributions do visiting warships make?
Since this is a landsman’s view, I will not discuss what are often the real motives for such visits—providing the officers and men of cruising warships with rest and relaxation or exploiting the attractions of tourism to maintain service morale and recruiting. These are important to navies afloat, less so to diplomats ashore.
The impact on foreign soil is usually invoked to justify the expense of such visits. The impression desired, no less than the impression actually produced, can vary considerably with each visit, for so much depends on who is visiting whom and on the relationship between the two countries involved. Generally, however, the arrival of visiting warships is intended to produce one of three impressions on the government and public opinion of the host country: power, smartness, or friendliness.
These three objectives are not mutually exclusive, but they can be rather difficult to combine. In 1952, for instance, President Tito of Yugoslavia went to sea in the t USS Coral Sea (CVB-43) to observe a firepower demonic stration. This visit usefully displayed U. S. power at a ® time when Soviet-Yugoslav relations were particularly \ strained, and President Tito needed to be convinced that U. S. support was worth having. But did the populace of
Yugoslavia who heard about the demonstration regard it as a friendly gesture? Probably not.
As for smartness, the concept has altered considerably since the last century when the Royal Navy habitually avoided gunnery practice for fear of damaging the paintwork. But there is little brass left to polish or decks to holystone. Neither smartness, even in the modem sense, nor power is usually the impression produced when friendliness prompts the opening of visiting ships to all comers, as when the USS Yorktown (CVS-10) visited Kiel in November 1969. “An estimated 70,000 people jammed the streets . . . and stood in bitter cold waiting to tour the World War II carrier . . . .”1
It is advantageous to decide, while the visit is being planned, which is the predominant impression desired. Failure to do so can result in some peculiar situations. For example, in 1903, King Edward VII, who curiously combined an insistence on his royal prerogatives with the wish to be received on his personal merits, was planning a visit to Italy. His private secretary plaintively recorded: “I had telegraphed Naples to say that the King would arrive incognito, which seemed rather absurd as no other human being in the world could come with eight battleships, four cruisers, four destroyers and a dispatch vessel.”2
This difficulty is no longer particularly relevant. Heads of state still travel to foreign ports in warships from time to time and may be escorted by a squadron. But they do not attempt to do so incognito. Distinguishing the objective of the visit, however, remains important. An aircraft carrier or a nuclear submarine may demonstrate power, but friendship is often better promoted by a training ship, particularly by one of the elegant few that still operates under sail. Smartness comes in between, for carriers are not always smart, and the public is permitted little access to nuclear submarines. Training ships, though usually smart, are often dismissed as irrelevant to power.
The modem concept of smartness demands fuller definition than does power and friendliness. It is not, as many executive officers suppose, merely a matter of paintwork and the uniform of the sentry on the gangway. Shiphandling is a crucial element. During a Royal Navy visit to Thailand, a welcoming Siamese band played steadfastly on the pier, while the British destroyer failed in all her efforts to get alongside until an unintended collision by her next astern fortunately impelled the flotilla leader toward her elusive berth. The members of the band, of course, were not the only witnesses to this mortifying incident. In another incident, the looming presence of a U. S. aircraft carrier in St. George’s Bay impressed the citizens of Beirut, Lebanon, with the power of the U. S. Navy. But the dilatory departure from the quay of her rather scruffy boats did not convince the specially invited guests, later disconcerted by the casual environment they discovered on board, that this power could be efficiently exercised. Civilians judge a warship by the superficial characteristics they can understand.
Smartness has two important impressions to convey. The first is efficiency. Officers and men must appear so highly trained that they can obviously operate the ships and equipment displayed. The second is civilization. By their conduct, officers and enlisted men must demonstrate not only that they belong to a disciplined service, but also that the nation they represent has acceptable, even attractive, standards of behavior. This latter component is most convincingly demonstrated by the conduct of a ship s company ashore.
This is a delicate subject to broach and still preserve amicable relations with naval officers. It must, however* unfortunately be admitted that sailors do occasionally gej drunk ashore, assault the local inhabitants, impregnate and desert local women, and even, most deplorably of all. talk freely to the local media. Certainly, a veil should be drawn over these incidents, which are habitually exaggerated m the recollections of disgruntled diplomats, but one p°'nl must be made. The commanding officer who believes his country will be judged by his own conduct toward the local dignitaries on whom he calls deludes himself. What matters for the inhabitants and the media is the behavior ot his men on liberty and even of his junior officers. Men1' oirs of British admirals, for instance, sometimes record how, as midshipmen in visiting warships, they robbed an official building of its foreign flag. In many countries, such conduct is not always accepted as an amusing display
This again emphasizes the necessity to choose among the various purposes of a naval visit. The organized parties °f Soviet sailors perambulating the streets of a foreign fation in their best uniforms under the strict guidance of trusted petty officers certainly create an impression of Srnartness and do not cause any trouble ashore. On the °ther hand, they perhaps too literally meet Admiral of the hleet Sergei Gorshkov’s requirement that they “carry to lhe peoples of other countries the truth about our socialist country, our Soviet ideology and culture, and our Soviet "'ay of life.”3
Friendliness is perhaps more easily demonstrated by arrangements that allow, as Soviet practice does not, some contact between the visiting sailors and the inhabitants of the host country. Provided, of course, that these contacts ho not involve the local police.
Whatever the objective of a naval visit, its outcome is jhe result of a two-sided process: the reactions from local '^habitants and the intentions and conduct of the visitors. Local reactions are just as important, often more imported, than visitors’ intentions and conduct. These reactions are sometimes easier to predict than they are to orchestrate. Not all naval visits are generally welcome, nor is Universal acceptance in the host country a necessary condition for undertaking the visit at all. Some visits are specifically intended to encourage one party without undue regard for the contrary attitudes of their opponents.
For instance, U. S. naval visits to Turkey in 1969 should not be regarded as failures because the first provoked a hostile demonstration by 3,000 students and the last sparked the distinctly unfriendly warning from a local feminist: “We will not allow Turkey to become a brothel for American sailors.”4 If the arrival of U. S. warships reassured Turkish leaders that naval assistance was readily available in an emergency, the principal objective was attained. Nevertheless, naval officers and diplomats would rather avoid hostile demonstrations—to which all navies are occasionally subjected. This can sometimes be achieved by full consultation and planning between the naval staff and the resident diplomatic representatives.
These consultations are rarer than they should be. The adjective “naval” was seldom so divorced from the noun “diplomacy” as it was when a French squadron visited
A naval visit demonstrates friendship to a host country when visiting sailors invest their time, their muscle, and their spirit in goodwill gestures. Opposite, men of the Royal Navy help clear the Suez Canal of mines in 1974, and, left, Indonesian schoolchildren romp around a visiting Navy crewman. But naval visits should be fun for the sailor as well— below, African and U. S. soccer players scramble to gain control of the ball.
Stockholm between World Wars I and II. The officer in command, an admiral, hosted a splendid dinner in his flagship, but he did not invite the French charge d’affaires. Typically, the naval staff decides the date, the place, the duration, and the composition of a naval visit, then invites the ambassador to the country being visited to make arrangements accordingly. Sometimes this works, though it demands both frankness and flexibility on the naval side. For instance, an officer in command of a visiting warship should not conceal from his own representatives the presence of nuclear weapons on board his ship, or fail to disclose the thousands of tons of high explosives carried by an accompanying auxiliary. These are problems better argued privately in advance than made the subject of unconvincing explanations after embarrassing revelations in the media.
Moreover, every port of call, however administratively convenient to the naval authorities, presents its particular diplomatic problems. Disregarding those countries temporarily averse to any naval visit or to those of certain navies, the welcome extended to foreign warships and the advantages depend crucially on certain considerations best assessed on the spot: time, manner, and place. A naval visit, for instance, may be more attractive during the tourist season or when neither local elections nor international controversies offer any impediment. Circumstances may favor an impressive squadron or an unobtrusive ship to do the visiting. Either the country’s principal port or some provincial harbor may be the preferred venue. All these questions should be thrashed out in advance, before the ambassador to the host country is required to approach that country’s foreign ministry or the naval attache has to present the local naval staff with unwelcome proposals. Only between World Wars I and II, incidentally, did the Royal Navy begin to admit that foreign consent was even necessary for a naval visit.
Fifty years ago, the British Manual of Infantry Training contained a single epigram: time spent on reconnaissance is seldom wasted. That precept is most fully honored in the six months of meticulous preparation that precedes the arrival of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in the Royal Yacht Britannia, escorted by British warships, for a state visit. Such occasions combine smartness and friendliness to an extent not, in my experience, otherwise achieved. Visits of less consequence should perhaps receive less prior attention, but the example deserves full and generous attention by all concerned with naval diplomacy.
Subject to this essential condition of prior preparation and to prior definition of the principal objective or objectives of the visit, certain propositions may be suggested for the conduct of naval visits.
Where the emphasis is on the display of power, the people to be impressed are primarily naval officers, the defense establishment, and the government of the host country. Displaying power to the populace is much trickier than it formerly was. Those people who are unfriendly toward the visiting country will more likely be provoked than overawed by a show of power. Only in exceptional circumstances is it desirable to seek a popular impact for the display of foreign naval power by, for instance, bringing nuclear submarines into port, practicing opposed landings on a populous coast, or sending carrier-borne aircraft screaming over rooftops. Even friendly, allied nations often contain pacifist or dissenting minorities whose reactions may embarrass the host government and boomerang the entire visit. As a general rule, power is best displayed at sea and to a carefully selected audience. Joint maneuvers could be held with warships from the host country (despite the high incidence of collisions on these occasions), or distinguished guests could be invited on board the visiting flagship to witness exercises by her squadron.
Smartness is a different matter. Its manifestation often includes more than a hint of power, but power displayed in a more discreet, less alarming, and less provocative manner. Between World Wars I and II, for instance, capital ships were often chosen for naval visits, the British favorite being the battle cruiser HMS Hood. Recently, however, this practice has been subject to constraints: nuclear- propelled vessels are often unwelcome in foreign ports; navies (particularly the Soviet Navy) are sometimes reluctant to expose their newest ships to public scrutiny; and U. S. aircraft carriers excite apprehensions in certain foreign countries. Nevertheless, in 1967-76, 80% of the visits made by the Soviet Navy included at least one large surface combatant. Sverdlov-class cruisers were particularly favored. Nikita Khruschev is reported to have said, “Our naval commanders thought that they looked beautiful and liked to show them off to foreigners.”5
A large, handsome warship in a foreign port does indeed impress the population, even if the naval experts know that her fighting value is slender except as part of a balanced squadron. She is impressive, given the necessary degree of smartness, both in her own right and as a reminder that the nation she represents has a navy of man)' ships whose efficiency may be inferred from the smartnesS of this particular ship.
Generally, unless the mere presence of the visiting nav>_ is likely to provoke hostile reactions, the more ships o this navy that are seen by the people of the host country, the better. Peacefully aligned against the quay, these ships present no immediate threat; but rather a discreet reminder of ultimate power. It is a pity to diminish this impression by ostentatious precautions against the revelation of any secrets the ship may embody. Anything discoverable by casual inspection is seldom really a secret.
It should not, however, be suggested that the visit o even a single warship is invariably acceptable. Indeed, there is no level of naval visit that may not at some time attract political objections. In 1966, I experienced great difficulty in obtaining agreement for a small number o very small British minesweepers to visit Beirut. This would, I was told, upset the Syrians. When the visit eventually took place, I showed the representative of the Lebanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs the single 40-mm. gun boasted by the flotilla leader and convinced him that its shells would scarcely reach Damascus. Visits by small ships to small countries do, however, have one advantage- They may suggest to the local navy to order such ships from the visiting navy’s shipbuilders.
Friendliness makes no demands in terms of ships, but is exorbitant in its requirements of officers and men. F°r example, it has been suggested that one of the underlying! causes for the expulsion of the Soviet Navy from Egyptian bases was the failure of Admiral Gorshkov, on his arrival in Egypt, to call on the Egyptian naval commander m Alexandria before hurrying off to do business in Cairo- The achievement of either friendliness or smartness may occasionally entail some administrative inconvenience.
On the whole, navies are proficient in extending formal politeness. Perhaps that is why their occasional lapses have such disproportionate impacts. Where naval officers do tend to slip up, if they have not sought and accepted diplomatic advice, is in not appreciating the peculiar kinds of tact needed to cope with absurdly sensitive foreigners- The British Admiralty, for instance, was surprised by the fuss made in 1940 by the Commander in Chief of the Free French Naval Forces when he refused an invitation to celebrate the anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar.
If friendliness is the objective of a naval visit, consultation with the resident diplomat or consul deserves absolute priority. The simple sailor does not make the best ambassador. Foreigners are not simple, and they are different- Their peculiar prejudices are better considered before the visit takes place rather than after it has gone sour.
Resident diplomatic and consular representatives are naturally not infallible. Sometimes they are not even particularly helpful. Commanders of British warships used to submit, probably still do, confidential reports on the caliber of the British representatives they encountered abroad- Some of the reports preserved in the Public Record Office are distinctly abrasive. Such shortcomings, however, are
better ascertained well before the warships arrive in a for- e>gn port.
Basically, a naval visit can demonstrate friendship in two ways. The first and best is by doing something useful: administering first aid after a natural disaster or clearing sway someone else’s mines or obstructions. The effect Produced by these types of actions generally depends on the promptness of the assistance and may have a price in terms of operational readiness, training programs, and administrative convenience.
The second way to demonstrate friendship is to give Pleasure to the local inhabitants. A well-organized naval visit is often fun. There can be musical ensembles or folk dance troupes imported by visiting warships, participation tn local yacht races or regattas, and splendid parties on hoard the visiting ships. Moreover, many lively, vigorous Young men, bachelors hopefully, are injected into a rather limited local society. A ship visit even offers distracted Parents a novel relief from the obsessive boredom of their children. For a seaside town that is neither very large nor very sophisticated, a foreign naval visit can be an event more welcome and more memorable than the arrival of most of the world’s statesmen. It also has a much wider impact.
But these activities must be organized. Sporting events can be arranged ashore, in which the visiting sailors compete against local teams. If the country visited has a community of expatriate nationals, these can be mobilized to offer private hospitality to officers and men and to introduce them to local residents. A formal ball held at the embassy is always an attraction, but the ambassador must know well in advance how many officers to expect if he is to find enough single women for them—not an easy task m certain countries.
Some navies must try harder than others because of special handicaps. For example, the Soviet Navy cannot mix
freely with local inhabitants; the U. S. Navy is dry. Much of the success of the Indian naval visit to Jakarta, Indonesia, in 1950 was a result of the lavish hospitality on board the visiting ships compared with the synthetic orangeade to which the Indian Embassy was restricted, at least on formal occasions. Cocktail parties on board do not, of course, produce such a favorable impression in all Moslem countries, but Indonesia was an exception, as was New York City when visited by British warships during Prohibition.
The success of a naval visit depends on the choice of an objective appropriate to the relationship between the two countries concerned, on full and frank prior consultation between naval officers and diplomats, on naval comprehension of, and adaptation to, the peculiarities of the country visited, and on meticulous advance planning. Time spent on reconnaissance is seldom wasted.
‘D. L. Strole and W. E. Dutcher, “Naval and Maritime Events, July 1969-Decem- ber 1969,” Proceedings. May 1970, p. 548.
Frederick Ponsonby, Recollections of Three Reigns (London: Eyre and Spot- tiswoode, 1951), p. 161.
’Bradford Dismukes, Jr., and James McConnell, Soviet Naval Diplomacy (New York: Pergamon Press, Inc., 1979), p. 102.
4Strole and Dutcher, p. 556.
5Ken Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy (London: Croom Helm, 1977), p. 62.
Sir James Cable, a retired British ambassador, now spends his time writing on international relations and naval affairs. He is an occasional contributor to Proceedings, and the Naval Institute Press published his book, Britain’s Naval Future (1983).