Command in Crisis: Four Case Studies 9780231880022

Citation preview

C O M M A N D IN

CRISIS

J o s e p h F. Bouchard

COMMAND IN CRISIS Four Case Studies

Columbia NEW

University

YORK

Press

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS New York Oxford Copyright © 1991 Columbia University Press All rights reserved Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Bouchard, Joseph F. Command in crisis : four case studies, p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-231-07448-4 1. Crisis management—Case studies. 2. Escalation (Military science)—Case Studies. 3. Naval strategy—Case studies. 4. United States—Military policy—Case studies. 5. United States. Navy—History—20th centurv. 1." Title. U104.B78 1991 355.4'0722—dc20 90-23380 CIP Casebound editions of Columbia University Press books are Smyth-sewn and printed on permanent and durable acid-free paper © Printed in the United States of America c

10 9 8 7 6 5 4

3

2 1

CONTENTS

Preface

vii

Introduction

ix

1. Use of Force in Crises

1

2.

Stratified Crisis Interaction

36

3.

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis

57

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis

87

5. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War

138

6.

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War

160

7.

Findings and Conclusions Notes

223

Bibliography Index

313

276

188

PREFACE

The opinions expressed in this book are the author's alone and are not to be construed as representing views or policies of the Department of the N a v y . All source material cited in this book is unclassified. Portions of this book were submitted for security review in accordance with applicable Department of Defense and Department of the N a v y instructions. That review did not result in any changes in the substance of the book, and did not in any way restrict the academic freedom of the author. My foremost acknowledgment is to Professor Alexander George, without whose support and encouragement this book would not have been written. Professor George was a constant source of inspiration, wisdom, and incisive criticism. Professor Scott D. Sagan also provided important guidance and criticism. Professor John W. Lewis, Director of the Center for International Security and Arms Control at Stanford University, provided a stimulating academic environment at the center and in his classes. The Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C., provided invaluable assistance for my research. I am particularly appreciative of Bernard Cavalcanti and the staff of the Operational Archives Branch. The Ship's History Branch and Naval Aviation History Branch and the Department of the N a v y Library were also of assistance. I thank the many individuals who assisted my research at the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, the Navy Command Center, the Joint Chiefs of S t a f f , the National Military Command Center, and the National Security Council. Paul Stillwell and Susan Sweeney at the U.S. Naval Institute's Oral History Program were especially helpful. I owe a particularly great debt to over one hundred current or former naval officers and government officials that agreed to interviews or answered letters on the crises I studied. For assistance vii

Preface

above and beyond the call of duty, I thank Admiral George W. Anderson, Jr., Admiral Arleigh A. Burke, Admiral Isaac C. Kidd, Jr., Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, Admiral Horacio Rivero, Jr., Vice Admiral William F. Bringle, Vice Admiral Donald D. Engen, Vice Admiral William D. Houser, Vice Admiral Kent L. Lee, Vice Admiral Joe P. Moorer, Rear Admiral William A. Cockell, Jr., Rear Admiral E d w a r d J. O'Donnell, Rear Admiral J. C. Wvlie, Captain Charles P. Rozier, and Captain Ronald St. Martin. Finally, but with greatest appreciation of all, I would like to thank my wife Rita for her unwavering support and patient endurance while I completed this book.

vi n

INTRODUCTION

Studies of international crises have repeatedly concluded that the success of crisis management efforts is critically dependent upon top-level political authorities maintaining close control of the actions of their military forces. This essential crisis management requirement has been identified as a potentially serious problem area. Several concerns have been raised: Preplanned military operations and contingency plans may not be appropriate for the unique circumstances of a particular crisis, and may not support the political-diplomatic strategy adopted by national leaders to resolve a crisis. Delegated command of military operations could allow unintended military incidents to occur, which the adversary could misperceive as a deliberate escalation of the crisis or signal of hostile intent. Military alerts ordered to deter the adversary and increase the readiness of the armed forces could set in motion a chain of events exceeding the control of national leaders. Such problems are sources of concern because they could cause national leaders to lose control of events in a crisis, starting an escalatory spiral leading to war. 1 This study focuses on the problems that can arise when using military force as a political instrument in crises. In an international crisis, military forces commonly perform two missions: political signaling in support of crisis bargaining, and preparing for combat operations should crisis management efforts fail. Inadvertent escalation—an increase in the level or scope of violence in a crisis that was not directly ordered by national leaders or anticipated by them as being the likely result of their orders—can be a significant danger in these circumstances. A distinction can be drawn between the political requirements of crisis management, such as limiting political objectives, and the operational requireix

Introduction ments of crisis management, such as maintaining control of military operations. 2 The focus of this study is on the operational requirements of crisis management. 3 The use of U.S. naval forces in four crises that occurred since the end of World War II will be examined to develop contingent generalizations on crisis military interaction. In the introduction to his study of international crises, Richard N. Lebow discusses the distinction long made between the underlying causes of w a r — t h e long-term sources of hostility and tension —and the immediate causes of war—the particular events, such as a crisis, sparking a war. Lebow argues that, while students of international relations since Thucydides have focused on underlying causes, immediate causes are at least as important as underlying causes, in that immediate causes can determine whether war erupts from the underlying hostility and tension. 4 This study starts from Lebow's premise that immediate causes are important for understanding how and why wars occur. The causes of w a r can be viewed as falling on a time-span spectrum, with long-term underlying causes working their effects over years, decades, or even centuries toward the left end, and immediate causes occurring over days or weeks toward the right end. The underlying causes toward the left end of the spectrum include the structure of the international system, history, culture, economic development and resources, ideology, geography, and military technology. System structure has a strong influence on how "warprone" international politics are at a given time. Historical, cultural, economic, and ideological variables help to shape the political framework within which rivalries arise between particular nations and contribute to the intensity of the hostility and tensions between them. Geographic factors and the state of military technology shape the strategic relationships between nations and contribute to the level of tensions between them. This study will be addressing causes of war at the far right end of that spectrum—events occurring over hours, or even just minutes, at the speed of modern warfare. There is no intent to slight the importance of underlying causes or longer term immediate causes, which arrange the political and strategic circumstances for war to occur. Rather, the intent is to supplement those causes with greater understanding of how military interactions in a crisis could inadvertently trigger war. One of the fundamental problems in international relations is to x

Introduction

identify the necessary and sufficient conditions for war to occur. This study makes two assumptions on the necessary and sufficient conditions for war. The first is that an international environment marked by confrontation over national interests, hostility, and tension—all arising from the underlying causes of war—is a necessary condition for war to arise from a crisis. The implication of this assumption is that inadvertent military incidents will not spark escalation leading to war in the absence of confrontation, hostility and tensions. This study thus concentrates on inadvertent escalation arising under conditions of acute international crises, when the necessary conditions for war are present. The second assumption is that the underlying causes of war alone are not sufficient conditions for war. War can be avoided even under conditions of confrontation, hostility, and tension as long as national leaders on each side are willing to continue bargaining with the other side, are willing to sacrifice certain interests in order to protect or advance others, and perceive that the other side intends to continue bargaining rather than resort to war. This suggests that a number of factors can provide conditions sufficient for war once the necessary conditions—confrontation, hostility, and tension—are present. Examples include a belief that vital national interests cannot be protected through bargaining, an unwillingness to concede some interests to protect others (perhaps because the price would be too high or domestic political repercussions too severe), a misperception that the other side will not bargain seriously or intends to resort to war at an opportune moment, and loss of control over military operations. These factors can give rise to either deliberate decisions to go to war or to inadvertent war. The immediate causes of war can thus provide sufficient conditions for war if the necessary conditions are present. This study analyses a specific subset of the immediate causes of war: those arising from interaction of the military forces of the two sides and resulting in inadvertent escalation to war. Command and control problems that can degrade crisis management efforts and lead to inadvertent escalation have been the subject of several recent studies. 5 However, those studies have focused largely on top-level political decisionmakers and the command and control of strategic nuclear forces. Despite the fact that conventional military forces normally play a more immediate and important role in international crises, the crisis management implications of tactical-level interaction between conventional forces xi

Introduction have not been thoroughly explored. This study seeks to fill that gap in crisis management research by closely examining command of conventional forces and tactical-level interaction in international crises.

OVERVIEW OF CONCEPTS Three central concepts form the foundation for this study: stratified crisis interaction, stratified crisis stability, and the tensions that arise from the interaction of political and military objectives in a crisis. These concepts are explained in detail in Chapter 2. They are summarized here to provide an overview of the concepts presented in the research design. Given conditions of delegated command, tight coupling, and acute crisis, interactions between the two sides in a crisis will have a tendency to become stratified into separate political, strategic, and tactical interactions. These are separate interaction sequences between distinct groups of decisionmakers at each level on both sides in a crisis. Decoupled interactions are defined as interaction sequences at the strategic or tactical level in which the intensity of hostilities, level of violence, and magnitude of threat being conveyed to the other side are not under the control of national leaders. This occurs when there is an interruption or severe degradation of the vertical policy and information channels between decisionmakers at the three levels. When interactions are decoupled, the intensity of hostilities at the strategic or tactical levels no longer supports the political-diplomatic strategy being pursued by national leaders. Decoupling of interactions occurs to the extent that operational decisions on the employment of military forces made at the strategic and tactical levels differ from the operational decisions political level decisionmakers would have made to coordinate those military actions with their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis. Crisis stability exists to the extent that neither side has an incentive to strike the first military blow. The crisis security dilemma is that in a crisis, many of the actions a state takes to increase its security and improve its bargaining position decrease the security of the adversary. Under conditions of stratified interaction the crisis security dilemma is also stratified, arising from the interaction

xi i

Introduction

processes occurring separately at each of the three levels, and affecting the likelihood of war separately at each level of interaction. Crisis naval operations are particularly affected by the stratified crisis security dilemma due to the emphasis on striking first in modern naval warfare. Stratified crisis interactions provide a mechanism for inadvertent escalation—escalation that is not under the control of national leaders. In an acute crisis, in which strategic or tactical interactions between the two sides have become decoupled from political level control, an escalatory spiral can be triggered at the strategic or tactical levels of interaction, which under certain circumstances can cause the crisis to escalate uncontrollably to war. Those circumstances will be addressed in the study. An important issue is whether these phenomena—stratified crisis interaction, decoupling of tactical-level interactions from political-level control, and stratified crisis stability—are strictly symmetrical or can also be asymmetrical. That is, must the conditions necessary for these phenomena to occur be present on both sides in a crisis, or can the phenomena arise when the conditions are present on only one side? This issue will be examined in the study, but the focus of the study will be on the United States and the role of U.S. forces in crises. The interaction of political and military considerations when military force is employed as a political instrument in crises will also be addressed in the study. The interactions generate what will be described as political-military tensions—actual and potential conflicts between political and military considerations which force decisionmakers, either knowingly or tacitly, to make tradeoffs among individually important but mutually incompatible objectives. There are three political-military tensions: tension between political considerations and the needs of diplomatic bargaining, on the one hand, and military considerations and the needs of military operations, on the other; tension between the need for top-level control of military options in a crisis, and the need for tactical flexibility and instantaneous decisionmaking at the scene of the crisis; and tension between performance of crisis political missions and readiness to perform wartime combat missions. These three tensions between political and military considerations affect the degree to which stratified interactions become decoupled in a crisis, thus having a significant impact on crisis stability.

xiii

Introduction

RESEARCH

DESIGN

There is an inherent element of randomness and unpredictability in the occurrence of war that structural or system-level theories cannot eliminate or define out of existence. Addressing the immediate causes of war gets at that element of randomness and unpredictability, allowing identification of various sets of specific circumstances in which the probability of war is increased—which is both theoretically significant and policy relevant. This study will examine a particular subset of the immediate causes of war, those arising from the use of force as a political instrument in crises. The nature of the phenomena being considered dictates a focus on decisionmaking and the details of how crisis military operations are controlled. This, in turn, requires a research design in which a small number of cases are examined in detail using the method of structured focused comparison, rather than a research design using a large number of cases and statistical methods to identify significant variables. The purpose of structured comparison of a small number of cases is to reveal the different causal patterns that can occur for the phenomena, and the conditions under which each distinctive causal pattern occurs.6 The phenomenon to be explained is the occurrence of inadvertent escalation in international crises. For the purposes of this study, inadvertent escalation will be defined as any increase in the level or scope of violence in a crisis that was not directly ordered by national leaders or anticipated by them as being the likely result of their orders. The specific phenomena to be examined are the interaction of military forces in crises and the impact of such interactions on crisis stability. Empirical research on the use of U.S. naval forces in crises will be used to identify the conditions under which crisis interactions become stratified and decoupled, the conditions under which tensions between political and military objectives arise and affect crisis stability, and the conditions that prevent escalation dynamics from occurring. The analysis will define discrete patterns of tactical-level crisis interaction, each associated with a particular causal pattern. Because the patterns of crisis military interaction are arrived at empirically, the patterns identified in this study probably will not cover the universe of interaction patterns—ad-

xi

V

Introduction ditional patterns could well be identified through further empirical research. The research design will consist of a structured focused comparison of four cases in which U.S. naval forces were employed in crises: the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, the 1967 Middle East War, and the 1973 Middle East War. The criteria used to select these cases are discussed in the next section of this chapter. The four case studies will be used to develop discrete patterns of tactical-level crisis interaction. Eight questions addressing specific aspects of crisis military interaction will be answered through a structured focused comparison. Question 1. To what degree were interactions between the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis the result of actions taken in accordance with guidance in standing orders and other mechanisms of indirect control, rather than direct control by national leaders? If direct control was attempted, to what degree were national leaders able to exercise constant, real-time, positive control of operational decisions? Question 2. Were the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis tightly coupled? Did tactical-level commanders have sufficient information on the adversary's forces to allow them to develop a picture of the adversary's moves and intentions independent of information provided to national leaders? Were tactical moves by each side quickly detected by the other side, prompting on-scene commanders to make (or request authorization to make) countermoves in order to preserve or improve their tactical situation? Question 3. Were the forces of the two sides being used by their national leaders as a political instrument to convey military threats toward the other side in support of crisis bargaining? What strategy or concept of operations governed the employment of naval forces in the crisis? Question 4. Did tactical-level interactions become decoupled from political-level control during the crisis? Did any of the potential causes of decoupling arise during the crisis? If conditions for decoupling existed, did national leaders perceive the operational decisions made by the on-scene commander as not supporting their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis? There are seven potential causes of decoupling: communications and information flow problems, impairment of political-level deci-

xv

Introduction sionmaking, a fast-paced tactical environment, ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, inappropriate guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, and deliberate unauthorized actions by military commanders. To establish that tactical-level interactions became decoupled in a crisis requires two findings: First, that one or more of the seven potential causes of decoupling was present, creating the opportunity for decoupling to occur, and second, that operational decisions made by tacticallevel decisionmakers interfered with or otherwise did not support the political-diplomatic strategy being pursued by political-level leaders to resolve the crisis. Question 5. Did national leaders and on-scene commanders hold different perceptions of the vulnerability of on-scene forces to preemption and the need to strike first in the event of an armed clash? Did actions taken with on-scene forces by national leaders for political signaling purposes generate tactical situations in which the on-scene commander perceived a vulnerability to preemption and a need to strike first should an armed clash erupt? Did actions taken for political purposes prompt the adversary's forces to take compensatory actions to reduce their vulnerability or to improve their ability to strike first? Question 6. When stratified interactions become decoupled, what factors inhibit escalation at the tactical level? When tactical-level interactions begin escalating, what factors inhibit escalation from occurring at the strategic and political levels of interaction? Under what circumstances could these escalation-inhibiting factors break down, allowing a crisis to escalate uncontrollably to war? A limitation on the research that could be conducted for this study is that no post-World War II crises escalated to a war in which the United States was a participant. 7 The absence of cases resulting in war precludes using the outcomes of the crises—whether or not war occurred and the manner in which crises escalate to war —as dependent variables. The research design thus cannot address what would otherwise be the most interesting question: the circumstances in which tactical-level military interactions generate escalation dynamics leading uncontrollably to war. Although this question cannot be addressed directly, research will be conducted to identify the conditions that appear to have inhibited escalation from occurring. Question 7. Were the political signals being sent with military forces misperceived by adversaries or allies? Under what circumxvi

I ntroduction stances did inadvertent military incidents occur and how did they affect efforts to manage the crisis? Were national leaders aware of the dangers of misperceptions and inadvertent incidents, and did this affect their decisionmaking? Question 8. The eighth question addresses the three tensions between political and military considerations that can arise when military forces are used as a political instrument in crises. Did tensions arise between political and diplomatic considerations, on the one hand, and military considerations, on the other? Did tensions arise between the need for direct top-level control of military operations, and the need for tactical flexibility and instantaneous decisionmaking at the scene of the crisis? Did tensions arise between performance of crisis missions and maintaining or increasing readiness to perform wartime missions? If any of these tensions arose, how did they affect political-level and tactical-level decisionmaking?

CASE

SELECTION

The research design consists of a structured focused comparison of four cases in which U.S. naval forces were employed in acute international crises. Case selection criteria were (1) significant U.S. naval operations were conducted for the specific purpose of influencing the outcome of a crisis; (2) U.S. naval operations were conducted under conditions of acute international crisis; and (3) the naval operations were conducted in the immediate proximity of adversary naval or land-based forces that could threaten U.S. naval forces, generating tactical-level interaction between the forces. The first case selection criterion was that all cases would involve significant U.S. naval operations conducted for the specific purpose of influencing the outcome of a crisis. The study is limited to naval operations in crises, as opposed to all types of military operations, for two reasons. First, the command and control procedures, tactical doctrines, and rules of engagement used by the different armed forces vary widely. Variations in these factors can greatly affect the degree to which particular forces are prone to have crisis stability problems and escalatory potential. A study addressing the employment of all types of military force in crises would have to address variations in these factors across services in order to make an accurate comparative analysis of crisis cases. Focusing on naval xvii

Introduction forces improves comparability among crisis cases by holding constant inter-service variation in factors that can affect crisis stability and inadvertent escalation. The second reason for focusing on naval forces is that the Navy is the branch of the U.S. armed forces called upon most often to respond to crises. Data on the employment of the U.S. armed forces as a political instrument collected bv Barry M. Blechman and Stephen S. Kaplan show that U.S. Navy units were employed in 177 of 215 incidents (83 percent) between 1945 and 1975, while ground forces were employed in 54 percent of the cases, and groundbased air forces were employed in 48 percent of the cases. A followon study by Philip D. Zelikow found that U.S. Navy units were employed in 31 of 44 incidents (70 percent) between 1975 and 1982, while ground forces were employed in 41 percent of the cases and ground-based air forces were employed in 43 percent of the cases. 8 Having decided to focus on a single type of military force, a focus on naval forces provides greatest generalization of the findings to other crises. The second case selection criterion was that U.S. naval operations were conducted under conditions of acute international crisis. This eliminates the vast majority of the crises in which U.S. naval forces have been employed since 1945. The essential features of an acute international crisis are a confrontation short of war between two sovereign states, a perception by national leaders that important national interests are at stake in the confrontation, and a perception by national leaders of an increased danger of war breaking out, or at least increased uncertainty that war can be avoided. Acute international crises have two features of particular interest in this study: The first is that both sides in the crisis seek to protect or advance important national interests. Both sides thus take military actions intended to support crisis bargaining and to counter military moves by the other side. The second feature is that neither side desires war as the outcome of the crisis. National leaders on each side limit their objectives and restrain their military moves to avoid being misperceived by the other side as intending to launch a war. When these conditions are met, the primary danger is of war arising from inadvertent escalation. Limiting the study to acute international crises improves comparability among the cases by narrowing the range of variation in the factors that affect crisis decisionmaking. International crises of lesser intensity can involve much different political-military objecxviii

Introduction

tives and produce much different crisis behavior on the part of national leaders and on-scene military commanders. For example, a perception that war between the superpowers is an unlikely outcome in a crisis could well embolden U.S. leaders to take more forceful military action than would otherwise be the case. On-scene military commanders would be likely to perceive less of an immediate threat to their forces in a low-level crisis than in an acute international crisis, making them less suspicious of the intentions behind adversary military operations in their vicinity. The risk of inadvertent escalation can also be expected to be much less in lowlevel crises than in acute international crises because neither side perceives interests to be at stake that are worth going to war to protect. The third case selection criterion was that U.S. naval operations were conducted in the immediate proximity of adversary naval or land-based forces that could threaten U.S. naval forces, generating tactical-level interaction between the forces. Such tactical-level military interaction does not always occur in crises, and its absence results in a much different political-military environment. Tactical-level military interaction increases the risk that inadvertent military incidents could occur and influence the course of a crisis. Tactical-level tensions and threat perceptions are likely to be greater when naval operations are conducted in the immediate proximity of adversary naval or land-based forces. Political-level perceptions of adversary intentions and the risk of war can also be affected by tactical-level military interaction. The propensity of national leaders to take decisive action with military forces and risk further escalation could well be moderated by the immediate proximity of adversary naval or land-based forces. Focusing on cases in which naval operations in the immediate proximity of adversary forces generated tactical-level interaction improves comparability among the cases by limiting variation in crisis military operations to those most likely to affect threat perceptions and the risk of inadvertent escalation. Applying the three case selection criteria to the large number of postwar crises in which the U.S. Navy has played an important role resulted in four cases being selected as sources of empirical data for the study: the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, the 1967 Middle East War, and the 1973 Middle East War. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis was selected because the crisis xix

/ ntroduction was perceived as acute, with a serious possibility of war with the People's Republic of China; significant U.S. naval operations were conducted for the specific purpose of influencing the outcome of the crisis; and the naval operations were conducted in the immediate proximity of Chinese naval and land-based forces, generating tactical-level interaction between the forces. This was the only crisis that did not involve the Soviet Union as the primary adversary of the United States. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis was selected because the crisis was by far the most dangerous Soviet-American crisis of the postw a r era; significant U.S. naval operations were conducted for the specific purpose of influencing the outcome of the crisis; and the naval operations were conducted in the immediate proximity of Soviet naval forces, generating tactical-level interaction between the forces. The Cuban Missile Crisis case study will go into greater detail than the other three case studies because the crisis was m u c h more severe. The 1967 Middle East War was selected because the crisis was perceived as acute, particularly in the immediate a f t e r m a t h of the attack on the USS Liberty; significant U.S. naval operations were conducted for the specific purpose of influencing the outcome of the crisis; and the naval operations were conducted in the immediate proximity of Soviet naval forces, generating tactical-level interaction between the forces. Naval c o m m a n d e r s m a d e operational decisions without White House guidance that could have had a significant impact on the course of the crisis. The 1973 Middle East War was selected because it was arguably the second most acute Soviet-American crisis since 1945; significant U.S. naval operations were conducted for the specific purpose of influencing the outcome of the crisis; a n d the naval operations were conducted in the immediate proximity of Soviet naval forces, generating tactical-level interaction. As will be seen in the case study, Soviet naval actions in the Mediterranean generated a dangerous tactical situation that easily could have led to inadvertent escalation of the crisis. The three case selection criteria limited the n u m b e r of cases considered and improved comparability among the cases, but could not eliminate variation in all the variables that could influence tactical-level military interaction and the likelihood of inadvertent escalation. Seven of the more important factors that varied across the cases were the identity of the adversary that the United States xx

Introduction faced in the crises, the size of the adversary's nuclear arsenal, the intensity of cold-war tensions between the adversaries before the crises erupted, the level of threat to and nature of U.S. interests at stake in the crises, the identity of U.S. leaders in the crises, the size and nature of the naval operations conducted in the crises, and the evolution of weapons and communications technology over time. The impact of these seven factors on the research design must be addressed. The identity of the adversary that the United States faced in the crises is important to the extent that it affected perceptions of the threat that war might arise from the crises and, consequently, the willingness of U.S. leaders to use force to protect vital interests. Although the adversary was the People's Republic of China in the first case and the Soviet Union in the remaining three cases, the adversary was perceived as a serious potential threat in all four cases. As will be discussed in the individual case studies, the possibility that China or the Soviet Union might resort to military force was a serious consideration and influenced U.S. decisions on how military forces were employed in all four cases. The United States possessed nuclear weapons in all four of the crises, but China did not possess nuclear weapons in 1958, and the Soviet nuclear arsenal varied from much smaller than the U.S. arsenal in 1962 to approximate equivalence in 1973. The role of the strategic nuclear balance in international crises and the impact of nuclear threats on the behavior of adversaries have been addressed in a number of studies, but there is no clear consensus of opinion on these issues.9 Blechman and Kaplan conclude that the strategic nuclear balance did not have a significant impact on the outcome of the Soviet-American incidents they studied. 10 Variation in the nuclear balance does not reduce the comparability of the cases selected for this study. As the case studies will show, the nuclear balance has greatest effect on decisionmaking by national leaders, influencing the objectives they define in a crisis and the strategies they formulate in order to achieve those objectives. This study focuses on tactical-level implementation of the military actions ordered by national leaders, rather than on formulation of objectives and strategies. T o the extent that the strategic nuclear balance affects tactical-level decisionmaking, it is addressed in the case studies. As will be seen, it tends not to be a significant factor. The intensity of cold-war tensions between the adversaries before each of the crises varied widely, ranging from very high in xxi

Introduction

1958 and 1962, to slightly lessened in 1967 and detente in 1973. As was the case with the nuclear balance, because the study focuses on tactical-level implementation of military actions ordered by national leaders rather than on formulation of objectives and strategies, variation in the intensity of cold-war tensions does not reduce the comparability of the cases selected for this study. To the extent that the intensity of cold-war tensions impacts tactical-level decisionmaking, it is addressed in the case studies. The level of threat to and nature of U.S. interests at stake in the crises also varied widely. In 1958 the threat was to a U.S. ally (Taiwan) from a cold-war rival (China); in 1962 the threat was directly against the United States from the Soviet Union; and in 1967 and 1973 the threat was against a country the United States supported (Israel) from countries the Soviets supported (the Arab nations), with a concurrent threat of direct Soviet military intervention in a region (the Middle East) in which the United States desired to minimize Soviet presence and influence. As before, however, the level of threat to and nature of U.S. interests at stake in the crises principally affect formulation of objectives and strategies, and management of the crises by national leaders rather than tactical-level implementation of military actions. It thus does not reduce the comparability of the cases. A different administration was in office in each crisis: Eisenhower in 1958, Kennedy in 1962, Johnson in 1967, and Nixon in 1973. This difference in leadership across the cases can be expected to have a significant impact on the formulation of objectives and strategies in the crises, given that each President would have had unique political background, experience in crisis management and the use of force, and perceptions of the interests at stake and the threat to those interests. For this reason, each of the case studies begins with a summary of U.S. objectives in the crisis and the strategy pursued for resolving the crisis. The impact of the objectives and strategies on the manner in which naval force was used in the crises is also addressed in the case studies, thus providing a basis for comparative analysis of the political-military considerations that generated the tactical-level military interaction observed in the crises. An advantage of the four cases selected is that they cover an extended time frame—from 1958 to 1973 — in which significant advances were made in weapons and communications technology. This allows the study to assess the impact of improved communicaxxii

Introduction tion and information processing technology on the ability of national leaders to exercise close control over tactical-level military interaction in crises as the range, speed, and destructiveness of naval weapons increased over time. The issue of whether improved communication and information processing technology leads to improved crisis management is addressed in chapter 7. Although the case selection criteria limited the number of cases considered, several cases that met the criteria to varying degrees were excluded from the study. Among the cases considered and rejected were the 1954 Quemoy-Matsu Crisis, the 1956 Suez Crisis, the 1958 Lebanon Crisis, the 1970 Jordanian Crisis, and the 1971 Indo-Pakistani War. Although the 1954 Quemoy-Matsu Crisis and the evacuation of the Tachen Islands were perhaps as serious as the 1958 case, there was less tactical-level interaction because China ceased its harassment of the islands while the U.S. Navy was on the scene (thus making a naval confrontation an unlikely source of escalation). The Navy role in the 1956 Suez Crisis was limited to evacuation of civilians, there was little tactical-level interaction, and little concern that the crisis would escalate to war. There was little tactical-level interaction in the 1958 Lebanon Crisis, little concern that the crisis would escalate to war with the Soviet Union, and, after the Marines were landed, little concern that the United States would be involved in a civil war. There was minor tacticallevel interaction in the 1970 Jordanian Crisis, but the Navy role was small and there was little concern that the crisis would escalate to war. Although there was tactical-level interaction and concern among Navy officers over the Soviet naval threat in the 1971 Indo-Pakistani War, the Navy role was limited and there was little concern that the crisis would escalate to war. Limited war situations, such as the Korean War and the Vietnam War, were not addressed because the focus of the study is on international crises rather than limited war. Three cases in which U.S. Navy ships were attacked in peacetime were also excluded from the study. The 1964 Tonkin Gulf Incident, the 1968 North Korean seizure of the USS Pueblo, and the 1987 Iraqi attack on the USS Stark were all excluded primarily because the attackers were small nations that did not represent a serious threat to the United States and because there was little likelihood of direct Soviet intervention on their behalf. The 1964 Tonkin Gulf Incident was excluded because war was not perceived as a serious threat during the crisis. The 1968 North Korean seizure xxiii

Introduction of the USS Pueblo was excluded because the President decided almost immediately not to respond militarily against North Korea, essentially eliminating the threat of war over the incident. The 1987 Iraqi attack on the USS Stark was excluded because it did not generate significant U.S. naval operations or tactical-level interaction between the forces and the United States accepted the Iraqi explanation that the attack was inadvertent.

NAVAL FORCES AND INADVERTENT

ESCALATION

Inadvertent escalation is unintended escalation arising from the employment of military forces in a crisis. The feature of inadvertent escalation that distinguishes it from other paths to war is that the escalation was not intended by national leaders when they ordered military action. The military action was taken to increase security, deter escalation, or improve their bargaining position in crisis diplomacy. But it resulted in unintended escalation by their own forces or unanticipated escalation by the adversary. Inadvertent escalation can occur when either side takes military action that provides the other side an incentive to launch a preemptive attack, that causes the other side to perceive that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored, or that results in use of force not controlled by national leaders." Once escalation has begun, whether deliberately or inadvertently, it can be difficult to control. Studies of conflict and war have identified an escalation spiral that can cause tensions and insecurities to erupt in war. 12 In a refinement of this theory, Richard Smoke concludes that there is an escalation dynamic driven by rising stakes in the outcome of a conflict and an action-reaction cycle. Rising stakes increase the motivation of national leaders to prevail in the crisis. In the action-reaction process, an escalatory action by one side provokes an escalatory reaction by the other side in recurring cycles. 13 Although Smoke's analysis is limited to the escalation processes that occur after war has broken out, it is equally applicable to the escalation processes that can arise after fighting erupts in a crisis. The escalation spiral that led to the outbreak of World War I is often cited as the classic example of escalation dynamics at work. 14 Thus, inadvertent escalation can initiate a broader escalation process in which the two sides employ xxi v

I introduction increasingly threatening military and diplomatic moves—including alerts, mobilizations, deployments of forces, small-scale demonstrative use of conventional weapons, and ultimatums—in an effort to gain leverage in crisis bargaining and improve their military positions should diplomacy fail. Accidents and other inadvertent military incidents can contribute to this process. Such deliberate and inadvertent actions increase tensions and harden resolve until the process results in a war that neither side wanted or expected when the crisis first arose. American leaders and many analysts perceive naval forces as having important advantages over other types of forces for crisis response. Despite their advantages, however, naval forces could well have greater crisis stability problems than other types of military force. Importantly, those crisis stability problems arise from the same characteristics of naval forces that make them the preferred type of military force for crisis response. Due to the nature of their crisis operations, naval forces carry a high risk of being involved in inadvertent military incidents. This risk is compounded by the danger that, once they are involved in an armed clash, naval forces have greater escalatory potential than do other types of military force. Analysts have proposed several reasons for believing that a clash at sea is a more likely scenario than other paths to a superpower war, and that inadvertent escalation of a war at sea could be exceedingly difficult for national leaders to control. Naval forces are widely perceived as having several inherent advantages as a political instrument, particularly for response to international crises. Naval vessels are free to roam the oceans outside of territorial waters with few restrictions. The principle of freedom of the seas is well established in international law, and warships have long been a highly visible means of asserting that freedom. 15 The ability of naval forces to establish a visible U.S. presence in international waters near the scene of a crisis without intruding into disputed territory or immediate need of politically sensitive shore bases is an advantage not shared by land-based forces. The oceans provide naval forces with wide geographic reach. Only the few nations without sea coasts and beyond the reach of carrier aircraft are not readily influenced by sea power. The mobility and flexibility of naval forces are highly valued by national leaders. Naval forces are readily moved to a tension area, maneuvered to signal intentions and resolve, and withdrawn when xxv

Introduction U.S. objectives are achieved. Endurance, the ability to remain on station in a tension area for a prolonged period of time, is another important attribute of naval forces. The endurance of naval forces allows national leaders to send Navy ships to a tension area and then wait and see what develops. Although naval forces in a presence role serve primarily as a visible symbol of U.S. power and influence, their combat strength is a central element in their role. The ability of naval forces to project power ashore on short notice with naval gunfire, carrier airpower, cruise missiles, and Marine troops provides national leaders with a wide range of military options for conveying carefully crafted threats in support of diplomatic bargaining. Equally important, these combat capabilities also provide options for seeking a military solution to the crisis should it become necessary. 16 In contrast, land-based air and ground forces face numerous political, legal, and logistical constraints on their ability to be inserted into a tense area. They often require prepared bases (at least runways), and may not be welcome on foreign soil. Nationalism is a powerful emotion in many countries, particularly former colonies, and even nations desiring U.S. support may be hesitant to incur the domestic political strife that a foreign military presence can ignite. Land-based forces have a long and heavy logistical tail that makes them a cumbersome political instrument—they cannot be rapidly deployed other than in small units with low endurance, and once inserted can be difficult to withdraw. Deployment of land-based forces by air, or even use of long-range bombers for a show of force, can be precluded by reluctant allies and other nations refusing passage through their air space or refusing landing rights to refuel. Employment of land-based forces normally entails greater risks than employment of naval forces due to the much stronger political signals sent by forces ashore and their vulnerability to a wider range of threats. Because land-based forces imply a greater degree of permanence than do naval forces, land-based forces can signal a stronger and less flexible commitment to protecting U.S. interests. Even if a strong signal of commitment was intended, the fact that land-based forces are difficult to move can inadvertently create an actual degree of commitment greater than had been intended. 1 7 Observers of naval diplomacy have concluded that changes in the structure and conduct of international politics since the end of World War II have been the primary factors causing maritime xx vi

Introduction powers, particularly the United States, to place greater emphasis on the use of naval forces as a political instrument relative to landbased air and ground forces. Starting from the perspective of Robert E. Osgood and Robert W . Tucker that the destructiveness of nuclear war and the danger of conflicts escalating to nuclear w a r impose constraints on and " r e g u l a t e " the use of force, 18 James A. Nathan and James K . Oliver contend that the superpowers have had to search for usable and controllable forms of military power — instruments of force which are both potent and responsive to the need for limits on their use. They conclude that naval power has been the type of force best suited for use under these constraints, largely due to the advantages described above. 1 9 Similarly, James Cable has observed that " s o m e of the constraints on the use of American military power to exert international influence are also such as almost to encourage reliance on limited naval force for this purpose." 2 0 Other observers have suggested that domestic political constraints in the United States have also caused naval forces to be favored over the other armed forces. 21 Thus, there is reason to believe that in the future, naval forces will continue to be the branch of the armed forces favored by U.S. leaders for crisis response. The easing of Soviet-American cold w a r tensions and the dramatic political changes in Eastern Europe in 1989 do not presage an era in which naval forces will lose their political utility. If detente between N A T O and the Warsaw Pact leads to a significant reduction of U.S. forces in Europe, the importance of naval and air forces relative to ground forces as a means of protecting U.S. interests abroad will increase. Additionally, weakening of the bipolar international system and the rise of multipolar political and economic competition will generate much greater complexity in international affairs. Rather than fading with the cold war, international crises could well occur more often as a larger number of powers and blocs compete for influence and resources. Greater international cooperation on global environmental and social problems could generate crises and force being used to bring renegade nations into line. The emerging world order is certain to be much more complex, is likely to be less stable, and might well be more crisis prone. In much the same manner as the Royal N a v y served as an instrument of British foreign policy for three centuries before World War II, the U.S. N a v y can be expected to thrive as an instrument of American foreign policy in the future. xxvii

Introduction The characteristics of naval forces that make them the preferred type of force for use as a political instrument in crises also tend to make them relatively more susceptible to crisis stability problems than other types of forces. Naval forces face four crisis stability problems: the political signals sent by naval forces are especially vulnerable to misperception; the nature of modern naval warfare places a premium on firing first in tactical engagements; U.S. naval leaders approach the concept of naval crisis response from a perspective that is much different from that held by civilian leaders; and naval warfare appears to be more escalation prone than other forms of warfare. The first naval crisis stability problem is that the political signals sent by naval forces are especially vulnerable to misperception. Studies of naval diplomacy often note the danger of the signals sent by naval forces being misperceived by the target nation or third parties. Naval officers are also aware of the problem of misperception. In his article explaining the Navy's peacetime presence mission, Vice Admiral Stansfield Turner pointed out that the perceptions of the country to be influenced are a factor in selecting forces for naval presence. 22 The signals sent by naval forces are vulnerable to being misperceived for three primary reasons. First, warships are inherently coercive, even when used for supportive, influence-building purposes. 23 They cannot escape their aura of menace. Thus, the signals naval forces send have coercive connotations that can serve as "noise" complicating reception of the intended signal. Second, the flexibility of naval forces, which makes them so valued by national leaders for political signaling, also makes the signals they convey inherently ambiguous. As Nathan and Oliver observe, because naval forces can be withdrawn as easily as deployed, they can signal uncertainty and lack of resolve, rather than firmness and commitment. 24 Third, naval forces send highly visible signals which can be received by a large number of countries in addition to the intended recipient. Thus, third parties can perceive signals not intentionally sent to them. 2S The second naval crisis stability problem is that the nature of modern naval warfare places a premium on firing first in tactical engagements, making the security dilemma particularly acute in naval crisis response. The nature of naval warfare is that ships, submarines, and aircraft are fragile relative to the destructiveness of the weapons used against them This began during the era in xxviii

Introduction

which guns were the main armament of ships. An individual hit usually did not do serious damage, but massed gunfire could destroy a ship in short order. This led to emphasis on unilateral attrition—being able to fire on the enemy without suffering his return fire—achieved through longer range guns and such tactical measures as surprise and maneuver. 26 Advent of the anti-ship cruise missile greatly exacerbated the vulnerability of ships to weapons, allowing a single weapon to destroy a vessel. Captain Frank Andrews has described the threat presented by anti-ship missiles: "A carrier battle group is liable to serious wounds from preemptive missile attack in forward waters . . . because modern technology affords so much advantage to the side which strikes first that the victim may be unable to defend himself." 27 Even if the missile does not sink the ship, it can knock the ship out of the battle—achieving what the Navy refers to as a "mission kill." Anti-ship missiles can be difficult to defend against, making destruction of the launch platform the most effective defense against them. U.S. Navy tactical doctrine for the defense of surface ship battle groups thus emphasizes destruction of launch platforms before they launch their missiles. 28 Soviet navy doctrine places great emphasis on the first strike, making it a central objective of strategy as well as tactics. Soviet naval writings emphasize the importance of "the battle of the first salvo." 29 The tactical doctrines of the superpower navies interact, producing a war initiation scenario described in the U.S. Navy as the "D-day shootout." 3 0 The side that gets off the first salvo in the D-day shootout is likely to accrue a significant tactical advantage that could determine the outcome of the war at sea. When Soviet and American naval forces are deployed to the scene of an acute crisis, the security dilemma is likely to arise at the tactical level of interaction regardless of the threat perceptions held by national leaders. The technology and tactical doctrines of modern naval warfare thus provide ample conditions for crisis stability problems to arise. The third naval crisis stability problem is that U.S. naval leaders approach the employment of naval forces in support of crisis management with a particular perspective that is likely to be much different from that held by civilian leaders. The Navy, like every large organization, has an organizational philosophy or ideology which shapes and organizes the attitudes, perceptions, and thought processes of its members. Because success in combat is crucially xxix

Introduction dependent on maintaining effective command and control, military organizations place great emphasis on formalizing their organizational philosophy. 31 This doctrinal guidance is a particular bureaucratic perspective on the use of force, reflecting the Navy's views on efficient and effective operation of naval forces in peacetime, and the Navy's perception of the principles of naval warfare that would be operative in the event that fighting erupts. Prior to the early 1970s, the U.S. Navy did not conceive of peacetime missions as a category separate and distinct from wartime missions. That the Navy had peacetime roles to perform was recognized, but, with the exception of naval diplomacy, those roles were viewed as being derived from wartime missions or as preparatory to execution of wartime missions. 32 During the tour of Admiral Elmo R. Zumwalt, Jr., as Chief of Naval Operations, serious efforts were made to refine and clarify the Navy's conceptions of its missions. The result, as described in a 1974 article by Vice Admiral Stansfield Turner, was a scheme of four missions: strategic deterrence, sea control, projection of power, and naval presence. 33 Sea control and projection of power are wartime missions. Naval presence is "the use of naval forces, short of war, to achieve political objectives," and has two objectives: "to deter actions inimical to the interests of the United States or its allies," and "to encourage actions that are in the interest of the United States or its allies." 34 Naval presence takes two forms: preventive deployments, which are a show of force in peacetime, and reactive deployments, which are a show of force in response to a crisis. The primary difference between preventive and reactive deployments is that preventive deployments can rely on the implied threat of reinforcement as well as the combat capabilities onscene to influence the situation, while reactive deployments must rely exclusively on the combat capabilities on-scene to convey a credible threat. 3 5 A study of naval presence by Lieutenant Commander Kenneth R. McGruther identified six requirements for the naval forces employed for the presence mission: (a) the ships should be "dear," valuable assets must be committed to demonstrate will; (b) the warfighting capability of the force must be impressive and proven for the political signal to be credible; (c) the force should be multimission capable for flexibility of signaling and response; (d) the potential stay-time of the forces should be substantial from the start to signal an intent to stay until the job is done; (e) the fleet XXX

Introduction should be forward deployed so that forces are readily available close to potential trouble spots; and (f) superior command, control and communications capabilities are essential for an effective presence role. 36 This list of requirements reflects Navy thinking on the presence mission from the early 1970s onward. Of particular interest is that the requirements emphasize employment of powerful, multi-mission, high endurance, high value forces. Commander James F. McNulty has described the perspective commonly held by naval officers on peacetime presence as opposed to other Navy missions (deterrence, sea control, and projection of power): In all instances, our naval forces are organized and optimized toward one or more of the other three roles, and their commitment to the presence mission in any given case must frequently conflict with their readiness to perform tasks in support of what is almost inevitably perceived as their primary mission. This tendency to see the presence mission as competitive and mutually exclusive with the remaining mission areas seems to pose the gravest hazard to the success of our Navy in support of the basic goal of conflict avoidance. 37 This perspective, that wartime missions have priority over and are the foundation for peacetime missions, has been consistently and strongly held by Navy leaders for over forty years, and remains central to Navy thinking today. The Maritime Strategy was formally issued in 1982 as the overall strategic framework guiding U.S. Navy strategic and operational planning. The strategy addresses the employment of naval forces as a political instrument with greater sophistication than any previous formulation of U.S. Navy missions. The three nonwartime naval functions encompassed by the strategy are deterrence, forward presence, and crisis response. Crisis response is defined in the Navy's maritime strategy as employment of naval forces to achieve specific objectives while limiting the scope of the conflict and terminating military action as soon as possible. Crisis response serves primarily to control escalation of a conflict by deterring Soviet intervention and escalatory actions by other participants. Should control of escalation not be possible, the objective of crisis response is to dominate escalation—to prevail over any threats that may arise with precise use of force, so as to avoid increased hostilities. National objectives are xxxi

Introduction achieved through the political impact, and, if necessary, the direct military impact, of warfighting capabilities brought to bear at the scene of a crisis.38 Navy leaders believe that naval forces have escalation control characteristics that make them well suited for the crisis response role: mobility, readiness, flexibility, endurance, and a wide range of capabilities for precision political signaling and selective military options.39 Although the Navy's description of its peacetime roles and missions changed significantly in the early 1970s and again in the early 1980s, there are strong continuities in the perspectives underlying these changing mission formulations. Warfighting capabilities are viewed as the foundation for performance of peacetime missions. The ability of naval forces to deter, persuade, or impress is derived from their ability to fight. Peacetime missions always entail maintaining readiness to perform warfighting missions, particularly in crises. This entails readiness of on-scene forces to engage in combat at the scene of a crisis should fighting erupt, and readiness of all operational forces, particularly forward deployed forces, to perform wartime missions should the crisis escalate to war. Deterrence, at least below the strategic nuclear level, is achieved through threat of denial—maintaining the capability to defeat enemy forces in battle, thus denying the enemy the ability to achieve his military objectives. The purposes of forward presence are to demonstrate denial capabilities for deterrence and to place forces where they are available to conduct warfighting missions for denial should deterrence fail. The objectives of crisis management and escalation control are best achieved by employing forces capable of demonstrating deterrence by denial, and, should it become necessary, capable of defeating the enemy in battle to achieve denial. That Navy leaders should hold such views is not surprising, the raison d'etre of navies being to win battles at sea. There is merit in naval leaders focusing on readiness to perform warfighting missions, for coercive threats are by definition threats that force will be used. The necessity of maintaining readiness to perform wartime missions is inherent in crisis response. Laurence W. Martin has observed that when naval presence is exercised in an area of acute military tension, political demonstration purposes blend into preparations for warfare. That is, despite the ostensibly nonbelligerent purpose of the presence mission, the naval forces must in fact have "a posture capable of accepting combat." 4 0 Naval forces deployed to the scene of a crisis to lend credibility to a deterrent xxxii

Introduction

threat are also on-scene to take military action should deterrence fail. The danger, however, is that Navy leaders and political leaders may be using the terms crisis management and escalation control with much different meanings, and viewing the same military actions as having much different purposes. Much more representative of the views likely to be held by civilian policymakers are the seven operational requirements for crisis management identified by Alexander L. George: (1) political authorities must control military operations, including details of deployments and low-level actions as well as selection and timing of the moves; (2) the tempo of military operations may have to be deliberately slowed, creating pauses for the exchange of diplomatic signals, assessment, and decisionmaking; (3) military actions have to be coordinated with diplomatic actions in an integrated strategy for resolving the crisis acceptably without war; (4) military actions taken for signaling purposes must send clear and appropriate signals consistent with diplomatic objectives; (5) military options should be avoided that give the adversary the impression of an impending resort to large-scale warfare, possibly prompting him to preempt; (6) military and diplomatic options should be chosen that signal a desire to negotiate a solution to the crisis rather than to seek a military solution; and (7) military options and diplomatic proposals should leave the adversary a way out of the crisis compatible with his fundamental interests. 41 In contrast to these requirements, the Navy perspective on crisis response does not address political leaders controlling the details of deployments and operations, deliberate interruption of on-going operations to support nonmilitary objectives, tailoring naval operations to support political signaling, or political limitations on naval deployments arising from consideration of the adversary's interests. The scale of deployments and type of operations envisioned in Navy statements on crisis response could well be misperceived as aggressive rather than deterrent in intent, giving the adversary the impression of an impending resort to large-scale warfare and signaling a desire to seek a military solution rather than to negotiate a solution to the crisis. Naval and political authorities could well have much different perspectives on the purposes of naval deployments during an international crisis. Misunderstandings could arise between political leaders and naval commanders at the scene of the crisis if the chain of command is not kept informed of the political purposes of naval xxxiii

Introduction deployments. Such misunderstandings could lead to force being used when the political leadership would not have desired it used. As will be seen in the case studies, political authorities normally do not permit on-scene commanders to be informed of sensitive political objectives and initiatives. The fourth naval crisis stability problem is that naval warfare appears to be more escalation prone than other types of warfare. Several researchers have expressed concern over the escalatory dangers of naval forces. Strong pressure to retaliate can arise when a U.S. Navy ship is attacked. Former White House aide Chester Cooper, commenting on the strong Senate reaction to the 1964 Tonkin Gulf Incident, described the emotions aroused by attacks on U.S. ships: There is something very magical about an attack on an American ship on the high seas. An attack on a military base or an Army convoy doesn't stir up that kind of emotion. An attack on an American ship on the high seas is bound to set off skyrockets and the "Star Spangled Banner" and "Hail to the Chief" and everything else.42 Other researchers have expanded upon Cooper's remarks. Noting that "It is dreadfully dangerous to sink a major power's warship today," George H. Quester warns that "the warships of the world have become highly prized investments, such that their loss would be likely to enrage the publics and governments that matter back home—enrage them enough to trigger off escalations that neither side might have wanted, thus setting up the deterrence and bluff mechanisms that are at the heart of 'chicken.' " 4 3 John Borawski echoes this concern: "The 1967 Israeli sinking [sic] of the USS Liberty, and the subsequent US uncertainty as to whether a Soviet ship had attacked the Liberty, is often cited as an example of the type of nuclear Sarajevo that could inadvertently lead to war." 44 Sean M. Lynn-Jones shares the concern that public opinion is likely to demand retaliation after a naval incident, but adds that "It is, of course, relatively unlikely that a naval incident could provoke a nuclear exchange between the United States and the Soviet Union. . . . An incident could, however, increase tensions and needlessly disrupt negotiations or other political discourse, much as the U-2 incident of 1960 forced the cancellation of the Khrushchev-Eisenhower summit." 4 5 xxxiv

I ntroduction Some researchers contend that there is a greater risk of nuclear war erupting at sea than ashore. This argument has been made forcefully by Desmond Ball: The possibility of nuclear war at sea must be regarded as at least as likely as the occurrence of nuclear war in other theaters. Indeed, there is probably a greater likelihood of accidental or unauthorized launch of sea-based nuclear weapons, and the constraints on the authorized release of nuclear weapons are possibly more relaxed than those that pertain to land-based systems. Further, there are several important factors that make it likely that any major conflict at sea would escalate to a strategic nuclear exchange relatively quickly. 46 The factors that Ball identifies are the occurrence of accidents at sea, the attractiveness of ships as nuclear targets, the nuclear weapons launch autonomy of naval commanders, dual-capable weapons systems and platforms, offensive Navy anti-submarine warfare (ASW) strategy, incentives for Soviet preemption arising from the vulnerability of Navy ASW and command and control systems, the Navy doctrine of offensive operations in forward areas, Navy tactical nuclear weapons doctrine, Soviet doctrine for war at sea, and lack of Navy contingency planning for limiting escalation in a war at sea. 47 Another source of the escalatory danger associated with employment of naval forces in crises arises from the need to surge forces for wartime operations. In the event of war with the Soviet Union, the Maritime Strategy calls for offensive forward operations, seizing the initiative in the war at sea to destroy the Soviet navy and carry the war to the Soviet homeland. 48 The first phase of wartime naval operations commences as a Soviet-American crisis begins escalating toward war. Aggressive forward deployment of U.S. naval forces would commence on a global basis in order to be ready for wartime operations in strategic waters, to put the Soviet navy on the defensive, and to deter the Soviets from escalation. 49 This phase of operations is intended to be executed (and, if possible, completed) before war erupts. The emphasis is on deterrence by denial, deterring the Soviets by making it clear to them that they cannot achieve their wartime aims. As one would expect, given the wide range of crisis scenarios that can be envisioned, the Maritime Strategy is deliberately imprecise on the circumstances in which the transition from crisis

Introduction response to the prewar deployment phase of operations would occur. In all likelihood, though this is not stated explicitly, the two phases of the strategy would proceed simultaneously. Early transition to the prewar deployment phase of operations in a crisis could create serious political and crisis management problems. Crisis management and escalation control entail much more than deterrence by denial and escalation dominance, the central strategic concepts of the Maritime Strategy. The President could well decide upon a crisis management strategy in which he is willing to accept much greater risks to U.S. naval forces than are envisioned in the Maritime Strategy. This could preclude execution of the strategy in the manner preferred by the Navy. Conversely, naval forces organized, trained, and positioned for execution of the Maritime Strategy might not be immediately responsive to unanticipated ad hoc operational requirements created by the President's crisis management strategy. The decision to shift from crisis response to the first phase of wartime operations (prewar deployment) would undoubtedly be a momentous and difficult one for the President. He can be expected to put off making this decision for as long as possible while seeking a negotiated solution to the crisis. Equally likely is the probability that the President would order the first phase of w a r t i m e operations incrementally, to use the forward deployments as further signals of resolve, and to convey increasingly strong coercive threats. This raises the question of whether the Navy's wartime operations plans have sufficient flexibility to allow successful conduct of wartime operations under conditions of delayed and incremental execution of the Maritime Strategy. According to U.S. Navy leaders, delayed or incremental execution of wartime operations could seriously threaten the ability of the Navy to achieve its wartime objectives. Admiral James D. Watkins pointed this out in his 1986 description of the Maritime Strategy: Keys to the success of both the initial phase and the strategy as a whole are speed and decisiveness in national decisionmaking. The United States must be in position to deter the Soviets' "battle of the first salvo" or deal with that if it comes. Even though a substantial fraction of the fleet is forward deployed in peacetime, prompt decisions are needed to permit rapid forward deployment of additional forces in crisis. 50

xxxvi

Introduction Admiral Watkins w a s arguing for the decision to c o m m e n c e the first phase of w a r t i m e operations to be m a d e earlier r a t h e r than later, a n d decisively r a t h e r than incrementally. E m p h a s i s on m a i n t a i n i n g readiness to p e r f o r m warfighting missions also raises concerns a m o n g naval officers over political restrictions on crisis naval operations, particularly rules of engagement. 5 1 Lieutenant C o m m a n d e r T. Wood Parker h a s expressed concern that overly restrictive rules of engagement could leave the Navy vulnerable to a p r e e m p t i v e surprise attack: Our specific rules of engagement, although classified and dependent on the given situation, generally require us to assume a "defensive position" and to react to a hostile act. This, of course, is not all bad, for a different type of rules might result in a miscalculation which could have catastrophic consequences. Even so, our rules of engagement put us at a disadvantage because our unit commanders and individual commanding officers are forced to think defensively prior to taking offensive action. Moreover, our present rules put us in a very unpalatable situation in that the enemy can start the war at the time and place of his choosing. Within the context of the "battle of the first salvo," so important in Soviet military thinking, our rules of engagement give the Soviet Navy a tremendous advantage. The U.S. Navy can illafford to absorb a massive, coordinated attack prior to being able to take offensive action. 52 This concern arises f u n d a m e n t a l l y from the n a t u r e of modern naval w a r f a r e , which places a p r e m i u m on striking first. In a severe crisis, o n e in which Soviet-American hostilities have risen to the point that w a r t i m e options must begin to be considered, the tension between crisis m a n a g e m e n t and m a r i t i m e strategy objectives would be acute. Top-level naval leaders would be likely to press for authority to commence large-scale deployments to forward war-fighting positions. On-scene naval comm a n d e r s , concerned over the i m m e d i a t e threat represented by adversary naval forces a n d largely ignorant of political efforts to resolve the crisis, would be likely to feel dangerously constrained by peacetime rules of e n g a g e m e n t . They would be watching closely for indications of hostile intent on the part of adversary forces a n d taking all actions within their authority to improve their tactical situation. Thus, both strategic a n d tactical considerations would

xxxvii

Introduction

tend to drive naval forces toward courses of action that could cause political authorities to lose control over events in an acute international crisis. In summary, inadvertent escalation is unintended escalation arising from the employment of military forces in a crisis. The military action is taken to increase security, deter escalation, or improve a bargaining position in crisis diplomacy, but results in unintended escalation by its own forces or unanticipated escalation by the adversary. Naval forces appear particularly vulnerable to inadvertent escalation because they are perceived as having important advantages over other types of forces for crisis response, yet have serious crisis stability problems arising from the very characteristics that make them the preferred type of military force for crisis response. Due to the nature of their crisis operations, naval forces carry a high risk of being involved in inadvertent military incidents and, once they are involved in an armed clash, have greater escalatory potential than do other types of military force. There are several reasons for believing that a clash at sea is a more likely scenario than other paths to a superpower war, and that inadvertent escalation of a war at sea could be exceedingly difficult for national leaders to control. As was described in the research design, a principle objective of this study is to gather empirical evidence on these propositions. Although there is a persuasive rationale for naval forces having serious crisis stability problems and being vulnerable to inadvertent escalation, empirical research is needed to confirm whether naval incidents tend to occur in crises and whether they tend to spark inadvertent escalation. There could well be additional factors not previously identified that inhibit escalation, cause naval incidents to lose momentum and the forces to disengage, and allow national leaders to reassert control over tactical-level naval interaction. This study will attempt to identify the factors that inhibit escalation at the tactical level and the circumstances that could cause the escalation-inhibiting factors to break down, allowing a crisis to escalate uncontrollably to war.

ORGANIZATION

OF THE

BOOK

The study will begin in chapter 1 with a review of the literature on crises and crisis management. Chapter 2 defines the concept of xxxviii

Introduction stratified crisis interaction and explores its implications for theory. The next four chapters present the case studies of U.S. naval operations in international crises: Chapter 3 presents the case study of the 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis, chapter 4 presents the case study of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, chapter 5 presents the case study of the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, and chapter 6 presents the case study of the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Chapter 7 presents the findings of the case studies, the patterns of crisis military interaction, and the crisis management implications of stratified interaction.

xxxix

COMMAND

IN

CRISIS

ONE

Use of Force in Crises

The success of crisis management efforts is widely regarded as crucially dependent upon top level political authorities maintaining close control over military actions. Command and control problems that can degrade crisis management efforts and lead to inadvertent escalation have been the subject of recent studies by Paul Bracken, Alexander L. George, Scott D. Sagan, Richard N. Lebow, and other researchers.1 However, these studies have largely focused on top-level political decisionmakers and the command and control of nuclear forces. This study expands upon their work by taking a closer look at military command and control, and examining the crisis management implications of tactical-level military interaction.

INTERNATIONAL

CRISES

The focus of this study is on "acute" international crisis.2 This type of crisis has been defined by Oran R. Young as "a process of interaction occurring at higher levels of perceived intensity than the ordinary flow of events and characterized by: a sharp break from the ordinary' flow of politics; a rise in the perceived prospects that violence will break out; and significant implications for the stability of some system or subsystem (or pattern of relationships) in international politics." 3 Along the same lines, Glenn H. Snyder and Paul Diesing define a crisis as "a sequence of interactions between the governments of two or more sovereign states in severe conflict, short of actual war, but involving the perception of a dangerously high probability of w a r . " 4 The essential features of acute international crises are a confrontation short of war between two sovereign states, a perception by national leaders that important na1

Use of Force in Crises tional interests are at stake, and a perception by national leaders of a significantly increased danger of w a r breaking out, or at least greatly increased uncertainty that war can be avoided. 5 A crisis is fundamentally a bargaining relationship between the two sides. 6 Bargaining relationships are marked by interdependence: The ability of each side to achieve its objectives depends on the decisions and actions of both sides. Each side, in planning its own course of action, must take into account the objectives and anticipated course of action of the other side. In crisis bargaining, the two sides have common or complementary interests, as well as conflicting interests, otherwise one or both sides would opt for w a r rather than engage in crisis bargaining. 7 Crises consist of a series of bargaining interactions between the two sides. Bargaining interactions include formal negotiations, official diplomatic communications, informal communications via intermediaries or the media, and actions taken to convey political signals. Focusing on interaction highlights the interdependence between the two sides. Decisions made by each side reflect decisions made by the other side as well as their own objectives, and the ability of either side to achieve its objectives is dependent upon decisions m a d e by the other side. Not all types of crises are relevant to this study. Coral Bell distinguishes between adversary crises, those between nations regarding themselves as adversaries, and intramural crises, those among allies or members of a regional organization. Other researchers draw a similar distinction, excluding intra-alliance crises from their analyses. 8 This is useful because intra-alliance crises, though they may be acute politically and involve explicit coercion, rarely entail risk of war. Thus, the scope of this study will be limited to adversary crises. A useful approach is to distinguish among different motives for provoking a crisis. Snyder and Diesing distinguish among three types of crises: the "coercive bargaining" type, a confrontation arising from a challenge met by resistance; the " w a r scare" or "security d i l e m m a " type, arising from fear of imminent attack; and the "prelude or pretext to an intended attack" type, provoked to justify a preplanned military move. A hypothetical category, "accidental crises," is excluded for lack of empirical evidence that such a crisis has occurred. 9 Lebow has proposed a similar scheme of four types of crises: the "justification of hostility" crisis, used as a causus belli for war; the "spinoff" crisis, a deliberate hostile act 2

Use of Force in Crises toward a third country taken to further prosecution of a war in progress; the "brinkmanship" crisis, a challenge to a known interest or commitment of another country in the expectation that the other country will be compelled to back down rather than fight; and the "accidental" crisis, caused by an undesired and unsanctioned provocation. 10 Of these categories, the coercive bargaining or brinkmanship crisis and the accidental crisis are the types that are of interest in this study.

DELEGATION

AND CONTROL IN

ORGANIZATIONS

The bureaucratic politics and organizational process models are widely used for analysis of bureaucratic behavior and the implementation of policy by organizations. The bureaucratic politics model recognizes that the policy perspectives held by participants in decisionmaking are shaped by the organizations they represent, and that the policy recommendations made by participants will be influenced by the parochial interests of their organizations. In the organizational process model governmental action is viewed as organizational output: Decisions of government leaders trigger organizational routines, which primarily determine the nature of the actions taken. Organizational activity consists largely of enactment of preestablished routines—the standard operating procedures and programs which constitute an organization's repertoire." Although the bureaucratic politics and organizational process models provide a useful description of bureaucratic and organizational behavior, they are not without their faults. The bureaucratic politics model tends to treat all policy recommendations made to the President and his closest advisors as having been motivated primarily by parochial bureaucratic self-interests. There is thus an inherent bias toward interpreting evidence of policy disagreements or actions not ordered by the President as evidence of bureaucratic politics. 12 The model does not recognize that conflicting policy recommendations may be based on considerations of national interest and the feasibility of various courses of action, rather than bureaucratic self-interest, or that cabinet-level officials may base recommendations on personal policy preferences or political considerations, rather than on the interests of their bureaucracies. 13 The organizational process model has similar problems. Once the President has decided on a course of action, government organ3

Use of Force in Crises izations serve only to carry out his orders—essentially devoid of their own policymaking authority. Organizational routines serve to explain how presidential orders are corrupted in the process of implementation. This, in turn, leads to the implicit assumption that all actions taken by a nation during a crisis either are ordered by national leaders in pursuit of their policy objectives, or should not have occurred and therefore represent a loss of control over events. The necessity for delegation of discretionary powers and the coordination problems that can arise from this have long been recognized in organization and management theory. Chester Barnard recognized that delegation of discretion results in policies being defined at all levels in an organization, rather than just at the top. 14 According to Anthony Downs, "At every level there is a certain discretionary gap between the orders an official receives from above and the orders he issues downward, and every official is forced to exercise discretion in interpreting his superior's orders." 1 5 This decentralization of decisionmaking is driven by limitations on the analytical capabilities of decisionmakers, which are rapidly exceeded as an organization increases in size and complexity. John W. Sutherland emphasizes this point: "Simply, as the scope of a decisionmaker's authority increases (as the number of units for which he is responsible expands), the probability that he will make rational, accurate decisions about the properties of those programs decreases." 1 6 Thus, authority to define policies is diffused throughout organizations by the necessity of delegating discretionary powers in order to carry out top-level policy decisions. In a useful refinement of this concept, Jay R. Galbraith has drawn a distinction between two methods of delegating decisions in organizations. In the first approach, rules, programs, and procedures are used to move repetitive decisions to lower levels in the organization without delegation of discretion. Decisionmaking by lower level officials is guided by directives that specify the actions to be taken in those situations that can be anticipated in advance. According to Galbraith, "The primary effect is an information processing one—the elimination from hierarchical channels of communications concerning routine events. Rules serve the same function as habits for individuals. They preserve the scarce information processing, decisionmaking capacity for novel, consequential events." 1 7 Rule-governed delegation of decisionmaking is the type recognized in the organizational process model. 4

Use of Force in Crises The second approach is to delegate discretionary decisionmaking authority. According to Galbraith, this is driven by an inability to anticipate situations for rule-governed decisions: The combination of rules and hierarchy, like hierarchy alone, is vulnerable to task uncertainty. As the organization's subtasks increase in uncertainty, fewer situations can be programmed in advance and more exceptions arise which must be referred upward in the hierarchy. As more exceptions are referred upward, the hierarchy will become overloaded. Serious delays will develop between the transmission of information upward and a response to that information downward. In this situation, the organization must develop new processes to supplement rules and hierarchy. As the task uncertainty increases, the volume of information from the points of action to points of decisionmaking overload the hierarchy. In this situation, it becomes more efficient to bring the points of decision down to the points of action where the information exists. This can be accomplished by increasing the amount of discretion exercised by employees at lower levels of the organization. 18 Organizations typically use both methods of delegation: Rule-governed delegation of decisionmaking for standard, recurring situations, and discretionary delegation of decisionmaking for situations that cannot be anticipated. 1 9 Discretionary delegation of decisionmaking raises the problem of ensuring that the decisions made by lower level officials support the goals established by top-level officials. When this is not the case, delegated discretion results in "authority leakage," a divergence of goals between top-level and lower level officials. 2 0 There thus arises an inherent tension between autonomy and control when discretionary delegation of decisionmaking is used to cope with uncertainty. Various methods of control can be used by organizations. A scheme of three categories of organizational controls is now commonly used in organization and management studies: hierarchical control, which include rules, procedures and directives; collegial control, which is based on professional training and identification; and nonhierarchical control, which is based on internalization of the organization's norms and values. 2 1 Organizations use all three of these categories to varying degrees in order to maintain control under conditions of discretionary delegation of decisionmaking. 5

Use of Force in Crises These concepts of delegation a n d control have been widely used in studies of school a d m i n i s t r a t i o n . As Kent D. Peterson points out, the relationship between school district officials and the principals of individual schools highlights the issue of a u t o n o m y versus control: Functioning as the linkage between central office and classrooms as well as between parents and teachers, principals must keep resources, personnel, and students working efficiently toward organizational goals and objectives. To do this, they must neither be so tightly constrained that they cannot respond to changing conditions, nor so loosely controlled that they seek personal rather than organizational goals. Superiors must afford the principal enough autonomy to cope with unexpected problems or variable local conditions, while still keeping schools in line. In short, superiors seek an appropriate balance of control and autonomy that will maximize organizational effectiveness. 22 Studies of school principals consistently find that they a r e accorded significant a u t o n o m y a n d depict school districts a n d the schools within t h e m as being "loosely coupled." Although all three forms of control are used in conjunction, school principals typically are controlled largely by collegial and nonhierarchical controls, r a t h e r than by hierarchical controls. 2 3 F u r t h e r m o r e , studies of business m a n a g e m e n t reveal p a t t e r n s of delegation a n d control similar to those seen in studies of public a d m i n i s t r a t i o n . 2 4 These observations s u p p o r t Michael Lipsky's conclusion that the persons charged with c a r r y i n g out a policy have an i m p o r t a n t role in shaping the policy: There are many contexts in which the latitude of those charged with implementing policy is so substantial that studies of implementation should be turned on their heads. In these cases, policy is effectively " m a d e " by the people who implement it. Where considerable discretion characterizes the jobs of people who implement public agency activities, people "make" policy in hidden concert with others in similar positions through their patterned responses to the situation and circumstances in which they find themselves. 25 The organizational process model thus needs to account for the significant delegation of decisionmaking authority in m a n y government organizations. Allison recognizes t h a t "government action requires decentrali6

Use of Force in Crises zation of responsibility and p o w e r . " However, his model is based on the observation that " t h e necessity for coordination and the centrality of foreign policy to the welfare of the nation guarantee the involvement of government leaders in the processes of the organizations that share p o w e r . " 2 6 This observation, while essentially correct, leads to a simple model of governmental behavior as consisting of policy decisions by government leaders, subsequent organizational execution of preestablished routines to carry out policy decisions, and national leaders attempting to control implementation of organizational routines to achieve desired results. This applies well to highly centralized governmental organizations, but does not account for the significant delegation of decisionmaking authority in organizations composed of numerous independent operating units. In such organizations, organizational activity could well be the result of decisions made by low-level officials in the absence of policy guidance from top-level officials. Three changes must be made to the organizational process model to make it applicable to large organizations composed of multiple independent operating units. First, the model must recognize that delegation of decisionmaking authority in such an organization can lead to initiative and policy innovation on the part of the independent operating units. Organizational action thus consists of more than just execution of preestablished routines. Individual operating units performing essentially the same function can have much different repertoires, and their repertoires can change significantly. Second, the model must allow for the possibility that top-level officials may not have made a policy decision or have known what policy they preferred until after a low-level official has made a policy decision on his own authority. Low-level officials may not be required to consult with top-level officials on certain policy decisions, and sometimes may not have time to consult with toplevel officials even though expected to do so. Third, the model must account for variations in the external operational and political environments of the independent operating units. Top-level officials may not be aware of crucial details concerning local operational and political environments. With these modifications, the organizational process model becomes applicable to organizations composed of multiple independent operating units. There is no better example of a large organization consisting of numerous independent operating units than the Department of Defense and its component armed forces. The Department of De7

Use of Force in Crises fense is by far the largest organization in the U.S. government, consisting of numerous independent operating units with varying degrees of autonomy. The organizational process model does not adequately account for the degree to which the armed forces have been delegated authority to make detailed decisions on how to carry out operations. The normal state of affairs—in crises as well as in peacetime—is for innumerable military actions to be taking place that the President is not directly controlling. Military commanders often face circumstances that had not been anticipated by national leaders when deciding upon a course of action. Military commanders can also be confronted with a requirement to make what is essentially a policy decision without specific guidance on how to make it or sufficient time to seek further guidance from higher authority. For the most part, the crisis management literature has not accurately portrayed the manner in which military forces are controlled in crises. 27 This apparently resulted from the frequently observed phenomenon of U.S. leaders exercising close control over military operations in crises, combined with a lack of familiarity with military command and control procedures. Control of crisis military operations is typically described as being highly centralized, with top-level civilian authorities exercising direct control— in contrast to routine peacetime operations, which are described as highly decentralized and having little involvement of civilian political authorities. This description fails to grasp the complexity of military command and control. Even in crises, military commanders are delegated significant authority to make operational decisions on the employment of their forces. Under certain circumstances, spelled out when the delegation of authority was made, military commanders can use conventional weapons without seeking permission from higher authorities. The scope of their authority is spelled out in a variety of documents, which collectively will be referred to as mechanisms of indirect control.

INTERACTION

IN

CRISES

Previous studies of international crises have not fully captured the complexity of crisis interaction. In a crisis, multiple interaction sequences occur that only partially influence each other. National 8

Use of Force in Crises political leaders on the t w o sides are interacting through diplomatic communications and political signaling, national military leaders are interacting through the actions taken with their forces, and military forces in the field are interacting as they respond to orders from higher authorities and the actions of adversary forces. Such multiple interaction sequences, evolving simultaneously and semi-independently, arise when national leaders do not make all operational decisions themselves, but must delegate significant decisionmaking authority to subordinates. Each interaction sequence consists of a series of actions and reactions between specific groups of decisionmakers on each side. Although any number of interaction sequences could be postulated, limited only by the number of decisionmakers capable of affecting the crisis, this results in a model of excessive complexity. Instead, a relatively simple model of three interaction sequences will be used. Each of the three interaction sequences will be associated with a specific level in the chain of command, leading to a depiction of crisis interaction as being stratified into three levels. This will be referred to as stratified interaction, and is described in detail in chapter 2.28 T h e fundamental condition necessary for crisis interaction to be stratified is for the military establishment to be sufficiently large and complex that national leaders are incapable of exercising constant, direct control of the actions of all operational units that might have an impact on the crisis. This condition is clearly met in the military establishments of the United States and the Soviet Union. Paul Bracken demonstrates that it arises in the control of nuclear weapons: " I n neither country [the United States and the Soviet Union] do leaders have the tight central control over nuclear arsenals offered in public relations statements. Instead, they rely on the vast organizations which are needed to manage the complex integration process. This has profound implications for maintaining political control over nuclear forces as they go on alert and operate in w a r . " 2 9 Similar conditions pervade the Soviet and American command and intelligence systems for conventional as well as nuclear forces. This condition can also exist in the military establishments of much smaller nations if national leaders do not have the capability or desire to exercise direct control of their forces. W h e n direct control of operational forces is not being exercised, various military commanders are delegated authority to make 9

Use of Force in Crises specified operational decisions. Their decisionmaking authority is bounded by the guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, which could range from being tightly controlled to being essentially autonomous. Even forces under the direct control of the President retain a certain amount of decisionmaking authority, which can be substantial in some circumstances. The fact that different sets of decisionmakers are responsible for making different operational decisions does not in itself lead to stratified interaction. Hypothetically, if all of those decisionmakers possessed identical beliefs, objectives, and perceptions, the operational decisions they make would be the same ones that national leaders would make if exercising direct control. 3 0 Organization theory explains why this hypothetical situation will almost never be the case. Organizations possess distinct belief systems that shape the perceptions of their members. In military organizations, organizational belief systems are formalized in the strategic and tactical doctrines governing employment of their forces. Such doctrines tend to vary widely among military organizations. Decisionmaking in organizations is bounded by cognitive limits on rationality, which generate a range of mechanisms for simplifying environmental complexity, coping with ambiguity, and dealing with value complexity. A principle effect of the cognitive limits on decisionmaking is to give prominence to the beliefs and perceptions held by individual decisionmakers. There are thus ample theoretical grounds for expecting military commanders to make operational decisions different from those that national leaders would have made if they had been in a position to make them. 31 Paul Bracken's concept of "tightly coupled forces'' is an important contribution toward a more accurate understanding of how the U.S. command and control system affects crisis interaction. Bracken contends that U.S. and Soviet nuclear forces are tightly coupled due to two features of their respective command and control systems: vertical integration of early warning sensors with operational nuclear forces on each side, necessary to reduce their vulnerability to surprise attack, and a de facto coupling of U.S. and Soviet forces through each side's warning and intelligence networks. 32 Mutual coupling can drive an interaction process between Soviet and American nuclear forces: This mutual coupling occurs because a threatening Soviet military action or alert can be detected almost immediately by 10

Use of Force in Crises American warning and intelligence systems and conveyed to force commanders. The detected action may not have a clear meaning, but because of its possible consequences protective measures must be taken against it. The action-reaction process does not necessarily stop after two moves, however. It can proceed to many moves and can, and often does, extend from sea-based forces to air- and land-based forces because of the effect of tight coupling. 33 This action-reaction process can produce what Bracken calls "a mutually reinforcing alert," in which U.S. and Soviet actions prompt increasingly higher alert levels on both sides. A mutually reinforcing alert, in turn, would exacerbate political tensions because of the near impossibility of distinguishing precautionary military moves from hostile political moves. 3 4 Bracken's concept of tight coupling is an important contribution to understanding crisis interaction, but it does not convey the actual complexity of the relationships between American and Soviet forces. Two modifications to Bracken's concept are needed to derive the stratified interaction model. First, national leaders are not necessarily an integral element in all aspects of the vertical integration of sensors with forces: some m a j o r warning and intelligence systems are directly linked to the c o m m a n d e r s of operational military forces, who have been delegated authority to take certain actions on the basis of warning provided by those systems without f u r t h e r orders from national leaders. Bracken makes this clear in his description of the c o m m a n d and control system, but includes national leaders in the action-reaction loop when describing the process of mutually reinforcing alerts. To a degree, that process can proceed without national leaders specifically having to order alerting actions as military c o m m a n d e r s act in compliance with their standing orders. The second modification to Bracken's model is that U.S. conventional forces are vertically integrated with warning and intelligence systems, and tightly coupled with Soviet conventional forces, in a m a n n e r similar to nuclear forces. The reasons for this are the same: The ability of U.S. conventional forces to successfully execute their w a r t i m e missions can be crucially dependent on strategic warning of an impending Soviet attack. This is most clear in NATO, where the alliance defense strategy is based on having sufficient warning to complete essential defensive preparations. It is also true for the U.S. Navy, whose Maritime Strategy is founded on 1 1

Use of Force in Crises early and rapid surging of naval forces to key forward operating areas. An action by either side to increase the readiness of major conventional force commands is readily detected by the command on the other side responsible for dealing with that threat, which then takes actions to compensate for the changed strategic situation. This is the normal state of affairs in peacetime. As a crisis situation emerges, the tightness of coupling between the conventional forces of the two sides actually increases as surveillance efforts are stepped up and focused on those adversary forces most likely to play an immediate role in the crisis. In some military environments, U.S. and Soviet forces are tightly coupled down to the tactical level. At any given moment, U.S. and Soviet tactical forces are operating in close proximity in several parts of the world: Their naval forces routinely intermingle on the high seas and their surveillance aircraft are monitoring and being monitored by each other's air defense systems. Because a surprise attack by either side could be decisive in a tactical engagement, operational forces on both sides keep their adversary under close surveillance. An action by either side's tactical forces to increase their readiness or improve their tactical situation is readily detected by the other side's tactical forces in the vicinity, which then take actions to compensate for the changed tactical situation. Again, this is the normal state of affairs in peacetime, and the intensity of surveillance increases as the level of tensions rise in a crisis— further tightening the coupling between the forces of the two sides. Thus, the actual situation is that the tight coupling of U.S. and Soviet forces is stratified into tight coupling at two levels: the m a j o r command level, including strategic nuclear forces and other major commands, and the tactical level, encompassing operational units in close proximity in the field or at sea. Significant information on the status of the other side's forces flows directly to military commanders at these levels from organic sensors under their control and dual reporting from intelligence sources outside their commands. Tight coupling of conventional forces is not limited to U.S. and Soviet force:;, it can arise whenever potentially hostile forces are in close proximity. U.S. and South Korean forces have been tightly coupled with North Korean forces since 1953. In a crises, U.S. forces can become tightly coupled with forces that receive only routine attention in peacetime. In recent years, this has occurred with the forces of Libya, Syria, Iran, and Iraq. 12

Use of Force in Crises CRISIS

MANAGEMENT

A nation confronted by a crisis can choose from among three general strategies for dealing with it: capitulation, war, or crisis management. As defined by Williams, "crisis management is concerned on the one hand with the procedures for controlling and regulating a crisis so that it does not get out of hand and lead to war, and on the other hand with ensuring that the crisis is resolved on a satisfactory basis in which the vital interests of the state are secured and protected." 35 These two elements are also central to the definition of crisis management used by Snyder and Diesing: first, exercise of detailed control by the top leadership in order to avoid war, and, second, efforts by national leaders "to advance or protect their state's interests, to win or at least to maximize gains or minimize losses, and if possible to settle the issue in conflict so that it does not produce further crises." 36 The essence of the crisis management problem is to find the optimum balance between efforts to advance or protect national interests, and efforts to avoid war. 37 The ability of national leaders to maintain control over events is a central problem in crises. 38 Decisionmakers commonly fear that a crisis can develop a momentum of its own, degrading their ability to control events. 39 According to Thomas C. Schelling, "It is the essence of a crisis that the participants are not fully in control of events; they take steps and make decisions that raise or lower the danger, but in a realm of risk and uncertainty." 40 Thus, maintaining control over events also means controlling risks, particularly the risk of war breaking out inadvertently. National leaders can be confronted with serious problems in attempting to maintain control over events in a crisis. Glenn Snyder identifies four "autonomous risks" that could cause a loss of control over events: military action being driven by its own logic and momentum, national leaders losing control over their military commanders, lack of military options other than escalatory war plans, and impairment of rational calculation by psychological factors under the stress of a crisis. 41 This study will treat these problems differently, but Snyder's list of autonomous risks is a useful summary of the types of concerns that have been raised in the crisis management literature. A wide range of actions can be taken with military forces during 13

Use of Force in Crises a crisis in pursuit of m i l i t a r y a n d political objectives. Coral Bell identifies "signals," t h r e a t s or offers c o m m u n i c a t e d to the o t h e r side, as the basic i n s t r u m e n t of crisis m a n a g e m e n t , a n d notes that some of the most effective signals are m o v e m e n t s of military resources. 4 2 As Bell suggests, political signaling is a p r i m a r y function of military forces in crises, c o m p e t i n g with or even overshadowing their n o m i n a l military missions. Alexander L. George lists five general uses to which military forces can be put in crises: reducing the vulnerability a n d increasing the readiness of theater and strategic n u c l e a r forces, signaling limited intentions and an interest in avoiding escalation, engaging in a test of military capabilities within restrictive g r o u n d rules, conveying military threats for coercive p r e s s u r e in b a r g a i n i n g , a n d d e t e r r i n g escalation by the adversary a n d neutralizing his coercive threats. 4 3 Thus, in a crisis, political missions such as coercion a n d signaling intentions are assigned to forces that m u s t also be ready for limited c o m b a t operations a n d the possibility of s u d d e n escalation to full-scale w a r . S t u d i e s of crisis m a n a g e m e n t have identified stringent requirem e n t s for its success. Foremost a m o n g these, as Bell points out, are imposing limits on the m i l i t a r y m e a n s employed that are c o m m e n s u r a t e with the limited e n d s of military action in crises, a n d maintaining close d i p l o m a t i c control of military measures. 4 4 The basic r e q u i r e m e n t t h a t national leaders m a i n t a i n close control of military o p e r a t i o n s is central to the m o r e detailed lists of r e q u i r e m e n t s a n d techniques proposed in o t h e r studies. In a d d i t i o n to the " p o l i t i c a l " r e q u i r e m e n t s of crisis m a n a g e m e n t — limiting objectives a n d the m e a n s employed to secure those objectives—George also identifies seven " o p e r a t i o n a l " r e q u i r e m e n t s for crisis m a n a g e m e n t : First, political authorities must control military operations, including details of d e p l o y m e n t s a n d low-level actions as well as selection a n d t i m i n g of the moves. Second, the t e m p o of military o p e r a t i o n s m a y have to be deliberately slowed, c r e a t i n g pauses for the exchange of d i p l o m a t i c signals, assessment, a n d decisionmaking. Third, military actions have to be coordinated w i t h d i p l o m a t i c actions in an integrated strategy for resolving the crisis a c c e p t a b l y w i t h o u t w a r . Fourth, military actions taken for signaling p u r p o s e s m u s t send clear a n d a p p r o p r i a t e signals consistent with d i p l o m a t i c objectives. Fifth, military options should be avoided that give the a d v e r s a r y the impression of an i m p e n d i n g resort to large-scale w a r f a r e , possibly p r o m p t i n g him to p r e e m p t . Sixth, military a n d d i p l o m a t i c options should be chosen that signal 14

Use of Force in Crises a desire to negotiate a solution to the crisis rather than to seek a military solution. Seventh, military options and diplomatic proposals should leave the adversary a way out of the crisis compatible with his fundamental interests. 45 These crisis management requirements have important implications for the manner in which military force is used in crises. Tensions can arise in attempting to reconcile military considerations with crisis management requirements. This arises from the nature of crisis management: The objective is to protect vital national interests as well as to avoid war. 4 6 Although he makes it clear that political considerations must be paramount and that close presidential control of military operations is crucial for effective crisis management, Alexander L. George points out that "there are likely to be severe limits on the ability of top-level political authorities to orchestrate military operations and serious risks if they attempt to carry 'micro-management' of military forces too far." 4 7 One of the most difficult problems of crisis management is avoiding misperceptions of intentions and objectives. Misperceptions can disrupt crisis management efforts by eroding the credibility of deterrent threats, defeating attempts to signal limited objectives and the desire to resolve the conflict without war, and exacerbating the security dilemma. Misperception of the intentions of an adversary or miscalculation of the costs he is willing to endure can arise from several sources: the normal cognitive constraints on decisionmaking, the particular psychological factors that affect decisionmaking under stress, the political and organizational perspectives of participants in decisionmaking, and from incomplete or inaccurate information on the adversary and the status of the conflict. 48 Deterrent threats often play a major role in crisis management. The effectiveness of a deterrent threat depends on its credibility. For a variety of military, political, and cognitive reasons, the nation to be deterred may not perceive a deterrent threat as credible, or may miscalculate the consequences of challenging a deterrent threat, leading to a failure of deterrence. The credibility of extended deterrence can be particularly difficult—a variety of factors can cause an adversary to doubt the credibility of a commitment to defend an ally or client. 4 9 Many actions taken with military forces in crises are intended to enhance the credibility of extended deterrence by adding a specific threat of denial using conventional 15

Use of Force in Crises forces to the threat of punishment with strategic nuclear forces. 50 Although national leaders make efforts to anticipate adversary perceptions of crisis moves, attempting to predict adversary perceptions and reactions is inherently the most difficult aspect of crisis management. Careful attention to the credibility of deterrent threats may not suffice to prevent escalation, and could inadvertently prompt it.

CRISIS

STABILITY

The classic definition of crisis stability is that it exists when neither side has an incentive to strike the first military blow by launching a preemptive attack on the other side. James G. Blight and David A. Welch used this approach in their recent study of the Cuban Missile Crisis, defining crisis stability as "a condition where neither side has a decisive military incentive to attack first."51 This concept of crisis stability has generally been used to assess the stability implications of weapons technologies and force postures. Weapons that enhance crisis stability are survivable, providing an assured retaliatory capability, and do not provide first strike capabilities for use against the other side. Weapons that degrade crisis stability are valuable for launching a first strike—providing a rapid, accurate, hard-target kill capability—but vulnerable to preemption, potentially confronting leaders with a "use them or lose t h e m " dilemma in a crisis. 52 Crisis stability as a technological characteristic is also applied to command and control systems: Survivable systems enhance stability by ensuring that retaliation can be executed, while vulnerable systems degrade stability by providing the other side an incentive to preempt for damage limitation purposes. 5 3 Alexander George adds a second dimension to crisis stability: Crisis stability exists when neither side perceives that crisis management has broken down and cannot be restored. 5 4 This idea leads to the crisis management requirements that military actions have to be coordinated with diplomatic actions in an integrated strategy for resolving the crisis acceptably without war, that military options should be avoided that give the adversary the impression of an impending resort to large-scale warfare, possibly prompting him to preempt, and that military and diplomatic options should be chosen that signal a desire to negotiate a solution to the crisis 16

Use of Force in Crises rather than to seek a military solution. 55 Thus, crisis stability exists when neither side has an incentive to launch a preemptive attack on the other side, or perceives that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored. Richard N. Lebow has identified three sources of crisis instability: pressures to preempt, loss of control, and the risk of miscalculated escalation. 5 6 Pressures to preempt arise from the belief that striking first will confer a significant strategic advantage. The vulnerability of command and control systems exacerbates pressures to preempt. Loss of control occurs when "disaffected officials try to sabotage policy or impose a new policy of their own" (political loss of control), or when "individuals, acting on orders, or at least within the accepted confines of their authority, nevertheless behave in ways that interfere with, undercut, or are contrary to the objectives that national leaders are pursuing" (institutional loss of control). Miscalculated escalation is "steps taken to moderate adversarial behavior which instead provoke further escalation." 5 7 Two of these sources of crisis instability are covered in the definition of crisis stability given above. Pressure to preempt falls under the crisis stability requirement that neither side has an incentive to launch a preemptive attack. Miscalculated escalation is covered under the crisis stability requirement that neither side perceives that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored. Miscalculated escalation would be a serious source of that perception. Loss of control is not addressed in the definition and needs to be added. This leads to a three-dimensional definition of crisis stability: Crisis stability exists to the extent that neither side has an incentive to launch a preemptive attack on the other side, perceives that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored, or takes actions with its military forces that could result in use of force not controlled by national leaders. This definition of crisis stability adds the danger that military operations could lead to loss of control. The concept of the security dilemma, originally proposed by Herbert Butterfield, provides a useful approach for study of the impact of military operations on crisis stability. 5 8 The security dilemma, as defined by Robert Jervis, is that "many of the means by which a state tries to increase its security decrease the security of others." 5 9 According to Jervis, the intensity of the security dilemma is a function of three factors: (a) the condition of anarchy in 17

Use of Force in Crises international politics, in which states tend to pursue security unilaterally rather than accept the risks of cooperation with potential adversaries; (b) geography, commitments, and beliefs, which can create the perception that the security of the state and its interests (such as territories abroad, commerce, and allies), requires the ability to take offensive action against others; and (c) the perception that military technology and geography give offense a strategic advantage over defense, which can be exacerbated by difficulty in distinguishing defensive from offensive weapons. When a decisive advantage can be gained by striking first, such as when military forces are vulnerable to preemption, even a status quo power without expansionist objectives has an incentive to strike first.60 The security dilemma is used by Butterfield and Jervis primarily to explain how a r m s races and international tensions arise from unilateral efforts by states to protect their security and maintain the balance of power. But Jervis suggests it also applies to crisis stability: "The second aspect [of the offense-defense balance] — whether it is better to attack or defend—influences short-run stability. When the offense has the advantage, a state's reaction to international tension will increase the chances of war." The reason for this is that when there are incentives for preemption and reciprocal fear of surprise attack, "There is no way for the state to increase its security without menacing, or even attacking, the other." 6 1 In Jervis' view, this problem arises from the existence of the security dilemma as a feature of international politics, as opposed to being a phenomenon unique to crises. An expansion of Jervis' definition is needed in order to apply the security dilemma to the impact of military operations on crisis stability. Reciprocal fear of surprise attack and incentives for preemption arise from three sources: the perceived impact of weapons technology on the nature of warfare, perceptions of the adversary's military strategy and doctrine, and the operations being conducted by military forces. 62 The perceived impact of weapons technology on the nature of warfare is a fundamental source of the security dilemma in crises. The offense-defense balance applies to all aspects of warfare: conventional ground, air, and naval warfare, as well as strategic nuclear warfare. When the prevailing weapons technologies in a particular area of warfare are perceived as giving an inordinate advantage to offensive action or being the first to strike, military 18

Use of Force in Crises

commanders will have a strong incentive to preempt. Naval warfare is especially offense-dominant, resulting in great stress being placed on striking first. Crisis naval operations thus can exacerbate the security dilemma. Perceptions of military strategy and doctrine also give rise to the security dilemma in crises. In fact, the difficulty of distinguishing offensive from defensive weapons tends to make strategy and doctrine more important than technology. Most weapons, including virtually all conventional weapons not emplaced in fixed fortifications, can be used with nearly equal effectiveness for offense or defense. This is particularly true of naval forces. Their offensive or defensive nature is predominantly a function of the military strategy and doctrine prescribing how those weapons will be used in war. Assessing the threat posed by a potential enemy's forces and making contingency plans against that threat requires assumptions about how the adversary would use its forces in wartime. The security dilemma can arise from perceptions held by each side that the other side has adopted an offensive military strategy or a military doctrine emphasizing preemption and surprise attack. When both sides perceive that the other has adopted an offensive strategy, actions taken by either side to increase its security will be perceived by the other side as decreasing its security. The worst case arises when both sides have adopted offensive strategies, and accurately perceive that the other side has adopted an offensive strategy. Under these circumstances, each side has an incentive to strike first in order to effectively execute its own strategy and preempt the enemy from executing his. 63 The third source of the security dilemma is the operations being conducted by military forces. 64 In his study of threat perception, Dean G. Pruitt identifies military actions as an important source of evidence used to infer the intentions of an adversary. 65 That military operations are used as an indicator of intent is, of course, the basis for using military forces for signaling in crises. But crisis military operations also help to define whether the forces have an offensive or defensive purpose. Military operations can thus perform the same function as strategy and doctrine: defining or signaling the offensive or defensive nature of forces whose technological characteristics make them suitable for either role. Maval vessels, for example, may appear defensive when kept close to their home ports, far from the scene of a crisis, but appear offensive to an 19

Use of Force in Crises

adversary when deployed off his coast. This can occur regardless of the intention of the deployment, which could well be defensive or deterrent. Similarly, forward deployed naval vessels can appear to have offensive purposes even when the national strategy they support is essentially defensive or deterrent. Military operations can also reinforce perceptions of strategy and doctrine, appearing to confirm estimates or assumptions that an adversary holds an offensive strategy. This leads to the concept of the crisis security dilemma: In a crisis, many of the military actions a state takes to increase its security, deter escalation, or improve its bargaining position decrease the security of the adversary. This is a particular case of the security dilemma as defined by Jervis. The primary difference is that in a crisis, the most important sources of the dilemma are the military strategies and doctrines of the two sides, and especially the military operations being conducted by the two sides. In a crisis, decisionmakers focus on the adversary's immediate intentions and the actions he is taking with his military forces, making these factors predominant in determining the offense-defense balance. The security dilemma thus can be much more severe in a crisis, when military forces are being used to signal coercive and deterrent threats. The crisis security dilemma affects all three dimensions of crisis stability. Actions a nation takes to increase its security, deter escalation, or improve its bargaining position can inadvertently prompt the adversary to launch a preemptive attack, cause him to perceive that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored, or result in use of force not controlled by national leaders. Use of force not controlled by national leaders can occur because military commanders in the field as well as national leaders are reacting to the adversary's military moves. Military commanders in the field could well perceive an adversary move as a much greater immediate threat than do their national leaders, prompting tactical-level preemption. The value of the crisis security dilemma concept is that it focuses on the unintended and inadvertent consequences of crisis military operations. The crisis security dilemma explains how escalatory pressures can arise despite crisis management efforts. The next step is to examine the escalation processes that can cause a crisis to erupt in war. Several possible paths to war have been proposed: premeditated 20

Use of Force in Crises war, catalytic war, accidental war, preemption, and inadvertent war. 6 6 Premeditated war is launched deliberately, usually by surprise attack, and is often described as a "bolt from the blue" attack. Catalytic war is started by a third party, which can be either a nation or some other group, such as a terrorist organization. A typical scenario is the launching of a nuclear weapon at one of the two superpowers, which responds by retaliating against the other superpower, thinking it to be the source of the initial blow. Accidental war is the result of equipment malfunctions or unauthorized use of nuclear weapons by military commanders. Equipment malfunctions can occur in strategic warning systems, command and control or battle management systems, or nuclear weapons and their control systems. 67 The first two paths to war—premeditated war and catalytic war — a r e widely regarded as much less likely than the other three. Accidental war is also generally regarded as unlikely. There is a remote possibility that a military accident could spark an escalatory spiral (particularly under conditions of acute crisis), but it is more likely that an accident would trigger or exacerbate the preemption or inadvertent escalation paths to war. 6 8 The preemption and inadvertent escalation paths to war are thus particularly relevant to this study. Preemption is motivated by perceptions and fears that the other side is about to strike first.69 This is the path to war that results from the crisis security dilemma. Preemption can result from either misperception of adversary moves as an impending attack, or from a correct perception that the adversary is about to launch a premeditated attack. The two situations are much different in terms of the analytical questions they raise: the misperception scenario focuses on the dynamics of the security dilemma, while the correct perception scenario focuses on deliberate decisions to resort to war rather than continue crisis management. 7 0 This study will address the preemption path that arises from the crisis security dilemma. The possibility of inadvertent war has been discussed for some time, but this has not led to an agreed definition of the concept. One early discussion defined inadvertent war as a decision to preempt based on "erroneous appraisal of the intentions of an opponent" arising from inadequate information on the opponent. 71 This approach falls under the preemption path to war, defined above. Similarly, the 1989 Pugwash Workshop on accidental nuclear war defined inadvertent war as launching a preemptive nu21

Use of Force in Crises clear strike based on strategic warning that a nuclear strike by the adversary is imminent. 7 2 This approach also falls under the preemption path to war. Neither definition addresses the possibility of crisis military operations unintentionally causing escalation to war. Barry R. Posen has defined inadvertent escalation as "the unintended consequence of a decision to fight a conventional w a r . " Posen contends that "intense conventional operations may cause nuclear escalation by threatening or destroying strategic nuclear forces." 7 3 This definition of inadvertent escalation applies to conventional w a r between the superpowers, rather than to crises. However, the concept that employment of military forces can lead to unintended escalation of a confrontation is very much applicable to crises. Inadvertent escalation will be defined as unintended escalation arising from the employment of military forces in a crisis. The feature of inadvertent escalation that distinguishes it from the other paths to w a r is that the escalation was not intended by national leaders when they ordered military action. The military action was taken to increase security, deter escalation, or improve their bargaining position in crisis diplomacy. But it resulted in unintended escalation by their own forces or unanticipated escalation by the adversary. Former Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara succinctly stated this idea as McNamara's L a w : "In this nuclear age, it is not possible to predict with a high degree of certainty what the effects of the use of military force will be because of the risks of accident, misperception, miscalculation, and inadvertence." 7 4 This definition of inadvertent escalation encompasses two of the paths to w a r identified by Lebow: loss of control and miscalculated escalation. 7 5 Defining inadvertent escalation as unintended escalation arising from the employment of military forces in a crisis complements the definition of crisis stability given above. Crisis stability exists to the extent that neither side has an incentive to launch a preemptive attack on the other side, perceives that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without w a r have broken down and cannot be restored, or takes actions with its military forces that could result in use of force not controlled by national leaders. Inadvertent escalation can occur when either side takes military action that provides the other side an incentive to launch a preemptive attack, that causes the other side to perceive that efforts to resolve the 22

Use of Force in Crises crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored, or that results in use of force not controlled by national leaders. Once escalation has begun, whether deliberately or inadvertently, it can be difficult to control. Studies of conflict and war have identified an escalation spiral that can cause tensions and insecurities to erupt in war. 76 In a refinement of this theory, Richard Smoke concludes that there is an escalation dynamic driven by rising stakes in the outcome of a conflict and an action-reaction cycle. Rising stakes increase the motivation of national leaders to prevail in the crisis. In the action-reaction process, an escalatory action by one side provokes an escalatory reaction by the other side in recurring cycles. 77 Although Smoke's analysis is limited to the escalation processes that occur after war has broken out, it is equally applicable to the escalation processes that can arise after fighting erupts in a crisis. The escalation spiral that led to the outbreak of World War I is often cited as the classic example of escalation dynamics at work. Bell has described the 1914 case as being an example of a "crisis slide," in which a series of crises gather irresistible momentum toward war. The escalatory impact of a crisis slide is that " t h e decisionmakers of one or more of the dominant powers believe that they see the options available to them steadily closing down to the single option of war or unlimited defeat." 7 8 Lebow points out that the most likely manner for war to break out is through an escalation process encompassing all three of his paths to war—preemption, loss of control, and miscalculated escalation. 7 9 Inadvertent escalation can initiate a broader escalation process in which the two sides employ increasingly threatening military and diplomatic moves—including alerts, mobilizations, deployments of forces, small-scale demonstrative use of conventional weapons, and ultimatums—in an effort to gain leverage in crisis bargaining and improve their military positions in the event that diplomacy fails. Accidents and other inadvertent military actions can contribute to this process. Such deliberate and inadvertent actions increase tensions and harden resolve until the process results in a war that neither side wanted or expected when the crisis first arose. Crisis stability can be seriously affected by inadvertent military incidents: military actions that affect the development of a crisis, but which were not specifically ordered or anticipated by national 23

Use of Force in Crises leaders. Avoiding such incidents has been a central concern in the study of crisis m a n a g e m e n t . As Phil Williams points out, an "inadvertent outbreak of violence" could cause national leaders to lose control of events in a crisis: The problem is likely to be particularly acute if military forces are in close proximity to those of the opponent. Trained specifically for warfare, military forces are not an ideal instrument in situations demanding an enormous degree of caution and restraint. Although it is highly improbable that hostilities would be initiated without explicit orders, a clash between opposing forces resulting from the actions of an over-zealous military commander cannot be discounted entirely. Thus, policy-makers could find themselves losing control over a crisis because of the actions of subordinates. This may be even more of a problem when geographical distance is added to the organizational distance between those who formulate and those who execute policy. 80 Most professional military officers expect that at least some things will invariably go wrong during military operations. In planning military operations, c o m m a n d e r s a t t e m p t to allow for mistakes, accidents, and other unforeseen circumstances. Such problems constitute what Clausewitz described as "friction" in w a r — t h e myriad things that tend to interfere with the smooth accomplishment of military operations. 8 1 Friction begins to arise as soon as military operations are launched—well before the enemy is engaged. It is reasonable to expect that friction—things going wrong— will occur in crisis military operations as well as in w a r t i m e military operations. Recent studies of crisis m a n a g e m e n t have shown a growing awareness that inadvertent military incidents are inherent in the use of military forces as a political instrument in crises. 82 In discussing the weaknesses of crisis management, Eliot Cohen warns that " . . . the statesman must inevitably fall victim to what Clausewitz called friction, or w h a t we sometimes call Murphy's Law— the tendency of things to go wrong, of people not to get messages or to misunderstand or deliberately ignore them, of large organizations to fail in their missions for a host of unforeseeable reasons." 8 3 Robert M c N a m a r a , Secretary of Defense during the Cuban Missile Crisis, has proposed a variant of Murphy's Law applying specifically to use of military force in crises: I don't think the Cuban Missile Crisis was unique. The Bay of Pigs, Berlin in '61, Cuba, later events in the Middle East, in 24

Use of Force in Crises Libya, and so on—all exhibit the truth of what I'll call "McNamara's Law," which states: "It is impossible to predict with a high degree of confidence what the effects of the use of military force will be because of the risks of accident, miscalculation, misperception, and inadvertence." In my opinion, this law ought to be inscribed above all the doorways in the White House and the Pentagon, and it is the overwhelming lesson of the Cuban Missile Crisis.84 There are three categories of inadvertent military incidents: unanticipated authorized actions, military accidents, and unauthorized deliberate actions. Unanticipated authorized actions are military actions taken by military commanders in compliance with guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control, but not directly ordered or specifically approved by national leaders. Such actions are taken by on-scene commanders in response to events or tactical conditions that national leaders did not anticipate, are not aware of, or do not understand. Such actions are authorized, in that they are taken in compliance with guidance contained in one of the mechanisms of indirect control—the alert system, standing orders, mission orders, contingency plans, or rules of engagement. But they are unanticipated, in the sense that national leaders did not directly order the specific action or anticipate that the specific action would result from guidance contained in mechanisms of delegated control. Even when under direct control by top-level political authorities, operational commanders usually have sufficient authority to take actions that could significantly affect the development of a crisis. Ambiguous or ambivalent orders greatly increase the likelihood of unanticipated authorized actions by leaving the on-scene commander uncertain as to the objectives of his mission, the intentions of national leaders, and the actions he is authorized to take. Movement of forces outside the scene of a crisis into battle positions, employment of weapons in self-defense in accordance with the rules of engagement, and stepped up surveillance of sensitive targets are all actions the President might not anticipate as resulting from his decisions, but which could raise tensions in a crisis. National leaders can only react to an unanticipated authorized action and try to manage its impact on the crisis. Military accidents are actions not ordered or deliberately initiated at any level in the chain of command. Military accidents are troublesome because decisionmakers may fail to realize they are 25

Use of Force in Crises unauthorized and perceive them as a deliberate provocation, signal of hostile intent, or escalation. This problem is compounded by modern communications systems, which in theory give national leaders in many countries the capability for detailed control of military operations and the ordering of specific tactical actions. 8 5 Richard N. Lebow has warned that since any military action could conceivably be the result of orders from national leaders, an adversary may assume that those leaders in fact ordered a given action, whether or not the conclusion is warranted. 8 6 Thus, virtually any military actions can assume strategic importance if believed to have been conceived and personally supervised by national leaders. In practice, national leaders and military c o m m a n d e r s a t t e m p t to distinguish accidents from deliberate provocations or attacks: U.S. naval c o m m a n d e r s did so in the 1967 Israeli attack on the Liberty, and Khrushchev did so during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, when a U.S. U-2 strayed over the Soviet Union. 87 Among the factors that are considered when evaluating whether a particular incident was a provocation or an accident are (a) the international political climate (Did the adversary have political and military motives to make a deliberate provocation or attack?); (b) the overall pattern of military operations at the time of the incident (Was the incident isolated or one of several attacks?); and (c) whether the circumstances of the incident indicate that it was a deliberate action (Were appropriate combat tactics used?). However, when assessment of a military accident must be made in the fog of a crisis, with possibly incomplete and erroneous information coming in from the scene and decisionmakers attempting to sort out adversary intentions under great stress, the possibility of an accident being misperceived as a deliberate provocation or attack is heightened. U.S. and Soviet leaders have used communications with each other to clarify whether incidents were accidents or provocations. One tactic is to assume for diplomatic purposes that an isolated incident was an accident, but w a r n that further such incidents would be viewed as deliberate provocations or attacks. Khrushchev may have used this approach when a U.S. U-2 strayed over the Soviet Union during the Cuban Missile Crisis, warning President Kennedy that the incident could have had serious consequences. Both of the superpowers have used the "hot line" to prevent incidents from becoming confrontations: In the 1967 Middle East War, the United States informed the Soviet Union of its military 26

Use of Force in Crises response to the attack on the Liberty, and in the 1973 Middle East War, the Soviet Union protested the sinking of a Soviet merchant ship during an Israeli raid on a Syrian harbor. Communications between the United States and the Soviet Union, particularly over the hot line, have thus proven valuable for sorting out accidents from provocations (and for preventing provocations from recurring by warning against similar "accidents" in the future). Situations could arise, however, in which national leaders or on-scene military c o m m a n d e r s on the side that was the victim of a military accident perceive that they do not have time for communications with the other side before taking a military response to an a p p a r e n t deliberate attack. Unauthorized deliberate actions are ordered or executed by tactical-level military c o m m a n d e r s in violation of orders issued directly by national leaders, or in violation of operational guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control. One way in which an unauthorized deliberate action can occur is for a military comm a n d e r to stretch the limits on the actions he is authorized to take —complying with a broad interpretation of the letter of his orders r a t h e r than with what he knows to be the spirit of those orders. This type of unauthorized action is especially likely when the orders given to military forces are vague or ambiguous, leaving ample room for an on-scene c o m m a n d e r to rationalize his actions. Not all unauthorized deliberate actions are h a r m f u l to crisis m a n a g e m e n t efforts. An on-scene military c o m m a n d e r with an appreciation of the political objectives being pursued by national leaders could well decide to ignore orders that are inappropriate for the local situation and pursue a course of action that better supports crisis m a n a g e m e n t efforts. Two types of unauthorized deliberate actions can be distinguished on the basis of the military c o m m a n d e r ' s intentions: constructive and malicious. A constructive unauthorized action is taken in the belief that actions called for in existing orders are inappropriate under the circumstances, and that the unauthorized action would better support national objectives in the crisis. Whether or not the outcome is constructive is a different matter: a well-intentioned action could seriously complicate crisis management efforts. The mark of a constructive unauthorized action is an effort to inform the chain of c o m m a n d as soon as possible of the action and the reasons for taking it. A malicious unauthorized deliberate action is taken out of opposition to the objectives underlying specific 27

Use of Force in Crises orders, disrespect for the chain of command, or frustration with particular orders felt to be unnecessarily endangering the men performing the mission. The mark of malicious unauthorized action is an effort to conceal the action from higher authority.

MECHANISMS

OF INDIRECT

CONTROL

There are three major reasons for examining military command and control and the mechanisms of indirect control. First, there is always a danger that national leaders could lose control of events in a crisis, allowing crisis military operations to escalate uncontrollably to war. 8 8 Second, the occurrence of stratified interaction in crises is largely a function of the military command and control procedures being employed to direct crisis military operations. Third, the nature and intensity of the tensions between political and military considerations that arise in crises are heavily influenced by military command and control procedures. Other than the technical requirements for maintaining connectivity, methods and problems of military command and control have received scant attention in studies of warfare and crisis management. 8 9 Greater familiarity with military command and control will enhance our understanding of the problems of crisis management. The puipose of this section is to examine how delegation and control are exercised in the U.S. military command system. Centralization versus decentralization in the control of military operations had been a major issue in civil-military relations and the design of the U.S. military command system since the National Security Act of 1947. The Truman-MacArthur dispute during the Korean War and military dissatisfaction with the Johnson Administration "micromangement" of the air war against North Vietnam are only two of the most prominent examples of such tensions. Three primary reasons or explanations for the trend toward centralized control of military operations have been advanced. The first is that the increasing complexity of warfare and concomitant specialization of military forces has increased the need for centralized control over military operations in order to effectively coordinate diverse weapons and units. 9 0 The second reason for centralized control, the one most important to civilian leaders, is the threat of nuclear war. 9 1 This, in turn, leads to the emphasis on toplevel control of military operations for escalation control and crisis 28

Use of Force in Crises management 9 2 The third, and most controversial, reason for centralization is the "force multiplier" concept. The contention is that effective c o m m a n d and control systems in effect multiply the combat utility of available forces by allowing them to be rapidly applied where they are most needed or where they can achieve the greatest results. 9 3 T w o primary reasons are advanced for decentralized control of military operations. First, the ability of top-level decisionmakers to effectively exercise close control of military operations is severely constrained by limits on decisionmaking and information processing. Second, the on-scene c o m m a n d e r often has superior ability to control the employment of his forces. His information about the current tactical situation is normally superior to that of his superiors. The on-scene c o m m a n d e r requires initiative and flexibility to effectively cope with the "fleeting opportunities and sudden dangers" of combat, to use E d w a r d N. Luttwak's apt expression. 9 4 The military chain of c o m m a n d , from the President down to the lowest levels, is founded upon the principle of delegating control of forces to subordinate commanders. The methods of exercising control cover a "tightness of control" spectrum ranging from positive control at the tight end to autonomous delegated control at the loose end. In the positive control method, communications links with operational forces are used to control their movements and actions on a real-time basis. Positive control allows subordinate commanders the least amount of initiative and flexibility: movements and actions are taken only on direct orders. If the on-scene commander wants to take an action other than that ordered by higher authority, he must request and receive permission to do so before initiating the action. The effectiveness of positive control is crucially dependent on communications connectivity and having the full, undivided attention of higher authority. This form of control is rarely used for w a r t i m e or large-scale crisis operations because it is cumbersome and incapable of keeping pace with a rapidly changing tactical situation. Toward the center of the tightness of control spectrum is the control by negation method. Under this method, the on-scene commander is delegated greater authority to control his forces, with the scope of his authority defined in his mission orders. The key feature of this method of control is that the on-scene c o m m a n d e r is authorized to take action unless it is specifically vetoed by higher 29

Use of Force in Crises authority. There are two forms of control by negation. In the tight form, the on-scene commander reports proposed actions before initiating them. In the loose form, the on-scene commander initiates action before reporting it. The loose form of direct control by negation is the method of control that military commanders typically prefer when they must be placed under direct control. Like positive control, the effectiveness of control by negation is crucially dependent on communications connectivity and having the full, undivided attention of higher authority. Toward the loose send of the tightness of control spectrum are various forms of delegated control. Under these methods of control, the immediate commander of a force is delegated direct control over its operations. The commander is issued orders to perform a certain mission and then allowed to carry out that mission on his own initiative. The scope of his authority and the actions he is permitted to take in pursuit of the mission are spelled out in his mission orders, and can range from granting him wide freedom of action to restricting him to a specific plan of action. When direct communications links are available, monitored delegated control is the form commonly employed. In monitored delegated control, the on-scene commander is required to keep his superiors informed of the status of his forces, the progress of his missions, and his operational intentions through periodic situation reports and, if possible, real-time reports of crucial information. The chain of command intervenes in the conduct of the operation only when absolutely necessary to ensure that it supports the overall strategy being pursued or to correct serious (mission-threatening) errors by the on-scene commander. Control by negation is often employed in monitored delegated control, but allows the onscene commander greater freedom of action. Monitored delegated control is viewed by most military officers as the ideal method of control, striking an effective balance between autonomy and control. When direct communications links are not available or not feasible, autonomous delegated control is the form of control that is employed. In autonomous delegated control, the on-scene commander is given his mission orders and is not expected to report again to higher authority until he successfully completes or aborts the mission. This type of control is necessary in covert operations, such as by special forces, when stealth is crucial to the effectiveness of a platform, such as attack submarines, and in situations where 30

Use of Force in Crises electronic emissions must be curtailed, such as in a surprise attack or when deception is used in battle. This method of control is not often favored by military commanders because it lacks flexibility, and is therefore used only when absolutely necessary. The approach the U.S. armed forces have taken is to rely on a flexible combination of direct and delegated methods of control. The balance between autonomy and control is based on the nature of the operations being conducted, the tactical environment, and the political environment. Different methods of control can be used in conjunction. For example, an on-scene commander could be under monitored delegated control, but have certain tactical options placed under positive control. Admiral Joseph Metcalf, commander of the Grenada invasion force of 1983, used this approach to allow his subordinate commanders maximum freedom of action while retaining control over weapons with the greatest destructive power (such as attack aircraft and naval gunfire). 95 Forces can be rapidly shifted between different methods of control. An important aspect of the U.S. Navy command and control philosophy, which has no equivalent in the other services, is the extremely high delegation of authority granted to the commanding officers of ships and other operational commanders. Because the actions of individual commanding officers could have a major impact on the management of a crisis, it is important to understand their authority, as spelled out in United States Navy Regulations. Both the 1948 and 1973 editions state the following: The responsibility of the Commanding Officer for his command is absolute, except when, and to the extent, relieved therefrom by competent authority, or as provided otherwise in these regulations. The authority of the Commanding Officer is commensurate with his responsibility, subject to the limits proscribed by law and these regulations. 96 Commanding officers are, of course, required to carry out lawful orders from superiors, but Navy Regulations even has a provision covering situations in which a commanding officers believes he must act contrary to his orders: A commanding Officer who departs from his orders or instructions, or takes official action which is not in accordance with such orders or instructions, does so upon his own responsibility and shall report immediately the circumstances to the officer from whom the prior orders or instructions were received.97 31

Use of Force in Crises This is a key provision: It permits a commanding officer, under unanticipated extraordinary circumstances, to exercise initiative —even when contrary to his orders—provided he immediately informs his chain of command of his action. In practice, commanding officers are extremely cautious about taking such an action. Their professional training and experience instill in them strong respect for the chain of command and orders issued by higher authority. 9 8 When a military commander delegates control of operational forces, he does not relinquish all control of those forces to his subordinate. In most cases, he retains a certain amount of direct control, which can vary widely in tightness. Additionally, the commander has at his disposal various mechanisms of indirect control. Mechanisms of indirect control are orders, instructions, or detailed guidance issued to a commander prior to the start of a mission in order to ensure that the operational decisions he makes support the objectives and intentions of his superiors. Such instructions can range from being very detailed and specific to very general in nature. As the method of control being used moves across the "tightness of control" spectrum from tight to loose—that is, as the subordinate is granted increasing freedom from direct control — the importance of the mechanisms of indirect control increases. When a subordinate is operating under autonomous delegated control, with no direct communications links at all, the mechanisms of indirect control are the only means of control available. There are five principal mechanisms of indirect control: the alert system, standing orders, mission orders, contingency plans, and rules of engagement. The U.S. alert system is based on five levels of Defense Readiness Condition (DEFCON), ranging from normal peacetime readiness (DEFCON 5 and 4) to wartime readiness (DEFCON 1)." The DEFCON system defines the overall framework for controlling the readiness of U.S. forces, providing a uniform system for all operational commands. The alert system serves as a mechanism of indirect control by ensuring a uniform response to an order to increase (or decrease) readiness. A commander need not issue detailed orders to every subordinate command specifying the measures he wants them to take. The measures required for each level of readiness are spelled out in their standing orders; all the comm a n d e r needs to do is state the level he desires and then monitor attainment of the specified readiness condition. Standing orders are detailed guidance on operational proce32

Use of Force in Crises dures prepared on a routine basis during peacetime. Although they are revised periodically, the intent is that they provide stable guidance, thereby minimizing uncertainty over operational procedures and facilitating the exercise of delegated control. Standing orders fall into four general categories: doctrinal publications, operations orders, operations plans, and long-range schedules. An important function of standing orders is to define the scope of decisionmaking authority delegated to subordinate commanders on a routine basis. Standing orders are a good example of hierarchical controls or rule-governed delegation of decisionmaking. Mission orders include letters of intent (LOIs), operations plans or operations orders issued for a specific short-term operation, and various other types of orders used to initiate routine and nonroutine operations. Mission orders serve as a mechanism of indirect control by relieving a commander of having to exercise direct control over the details of an operation's execution. An important function of mission orders is to define the scope of decisionmaking authority delegated to subordinate commanders. A mission order can specify which decisions must be referred to higher authority and which decisions the subordinate commander is authorized to make himself. Thus, mission orders provide a means of allowing a commander to focus his attention on the most important decisions that come up on the course of an operation without being distracted by routine matters. This in turn helps to prevent communications channels and decisionmakers from becoming overloaded. Contingency plans are those operations plans (OPLANS) prepared in advance for execution in the circumstances specified in the plans. Contingency plans are commonly prepared for crisis and peacetime emergency scenarios, various limited war scenarios, and general war scenarios (the last two types are often collectively referred to as " w a r plans"). Contingency plans serve as a mechanism of indirect control by allowing a commander to rapidly issue a single order to executive an operation that he and his staff have had time to prepare in detail ahead of time. Contingency plans are distributed in advance, eliminating the burden of having to issue a large volume of orders when a decision is made to carry out the operation. 100 Rules of engagement are orders issued to define the circumstances in which the U.S. armed forces are authorized to use their weapons in self-defense against hostile forces in peacetime, and to specify the scope and level of violence of combat operations in 33

Use of Force in Crises wartime. Rules of engagement serve as a mechanism of indirect control by allowing top-level authorities to specify policies on the use of force prior to situations in which direct control of the decision to use force is not possible. 101 Captain J. Ashley Roach describes rules of engagement as a tool for implementing top-level decisions on the use of force at the operational level, providing a means of ensuring that "national policy will be followed in wartime or sudden emergencies which do not allow time for communications between Washington and the field." 102 In short, rules of engagement provide guidance to operating forces on how to respond to threat of attack in peacetime and on limitations on fighting in wartime. 1 0 3

CONCLUSION The focus of this study is on acute international crises, which are marked by a confrontation short of war between two sovereign states, a perception by national leaders that important national interests are at stake, and a perception by national leaders of a significantly increased danger of war breaking out. Crisis interaction becomes stratified when the military establishments of the two sides are so large and complex that national leaders are incapable of exercising direct control over all operational units that could have an impact on the crisis. Paul Bracken's concept of tightly coupled forces—modified by the observation that tight coupling is stratified, occurring separately at the strategic and tactical levels without national leaders necessarily being involved—explains how separate interaction sequences arise. Crisis stability exists to the extent that neither side has an incentive to launch a preemptive attack on the other side, perceives that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored, or takes military actions that could result in use of force not controlled by national leaders. The crisis security dilemma is that in a crisis, many of the actions a state takes to increase its security, deter escalation, and improve its bargaining position decrease the security of the adversary. The most important source of the crisis security dilemma is the military operations being conducted by the two sides. Inadvertent escalation is unintended escalation arising from the employment of military forces in a crisis. Military action taken to 34

Use of Force in Crises increase security, deter escalation, or improve a bargaining position results instead in unintended escalation by one's own forces or unanticipated escalation by the adversary. Inadvertent escalation can occur when either side takes military action that provides the other side an incentive to launch a preemptive attack, that causes the other side to perceive that efforts to resolve the crisis acceptably without war have broken down and cannot be restored, or that results in use of force not controlled by national leaders. Organization and management studies show that significant delegation of decisionmaking authority is common in large organizations comprised of multiple independent operating units. Delegation of decisionmaking is driven by the limits on decisionmaking, which cause decisionmaking by top-level officials to deteriorate as the size and complexity of the organization increase. These observations apply particularly well to the military chain of command, which is founded on the principle of delegating control while retaining command. The U.S. armed forces rely on a flexible combination of direct and delegated control. The methods of control range from positive control and control by negation toward the tight end of the "tightness of control" spectrum, to monitored delegated control and autonomous delegated control at the loose end. Particular methods of control can be used in conjunction, and forces can be shifted rapidly from one method to another as the situation warrants. Commanders can exercise indirect control of subordinates even after having delegated them substantial autonomy. This is done via the mechanisms of indirect control: the alert system, standing orders, mission orders, contingency plans, and rules of engagement.

35

TWO

Stratified Crisis Interaction

Studies of crisis management invariably emphasize the importance of top-level political authorities maintaining close control of crisis military operations in order to prevent them from triggering an uncontrollable escalation spiral. Underlying this emphasis on control is concern that interactions between the military forces of the two sides in a crisis could develop their own momentum, decoupled from the political-diplomatic objectives and strategies of national leaders. This study examines interaction between the military forces of the two sides in a crisis to identify factors that could cause national leaders to lose control over those interactions and factors that could cause uncontrolled military interaction to escalate to war. STRATIFIED

CRISIS

INTERACTION

Given conditions of delegated command, tight coupling, and acute crisis, interactions between the two sides in a crisis will have a tendency to become stratified into separate political, strategic, and tactical interactions. These are separate interaction sequences between distinct groups of decisionmakers at each level on both sides in a crisis. The nature of these stratified interactions will be described, then the conditions that give rise to them will be examined. Vertical linkages connect decisionmakers at the three levels within each nation. Two types of vertical linkages connect the three levels: a policy channel and an information channel. There are flows in both directions, downward and upward, in each channel. In the policy channel, there is a flow of orders and policy guidance downward from national leaders to strategic and tactical military com36

Stratified Crises Interaction manders, and from strategic level commanders to tactical level commanders. There is also an upward flow of requests for permission to take action, recommended courses of action, reports of intended actions that have not yet been taken, and reports of actions already initiated that had not been ordered by higher authority. In the information channel, there is a downward flow of intelligence on the adversary, assessments of the adversary's intentions and likely moves, and backgound information on the objectives and strategy being pursued in the crisis. There is also an upward flow of requests for these types of information, intelligence, and assessments on the adversary from lower levels, and background information on the situation at the lower levels (such as force readiness data). Vertical interaction between decisionmakers at the three levels in each country takes place through these policy and information channels. Political interaction is between the top-level political authorities in each nation—the head of government and his immediate advisors. In the United States this consists of the President and those officials present with him during crisis decisionmaking, which normally includes the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of State, the National Security Advisor, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff (usually represented by the Chairman alone). During the period of this study (1958—1973), the political level in the Soviet Union included the General Secretary of the Communist Party and certain members of the Politburo, the Defense Council, and the Headquarters (Stavka) of the Supreme High Command (Verkhonoye glavnokommandovaniye, VGK, the command element of the Soviet General Staff).' Although the term "political" is used to label this top level of interaction, military considerations will, of course, be at least as prominent as political considerations in decisionmaking. Interactions between the two sides at the political level encompass the full range of diplomatic and military interactions under the cognizance of national leaders. Strategic interaction is between the strategic nuclear forces and major military commands on each side, thus encompassing conventional as well as nuclear forces. In the United States this includes the Commander in Chief, Strategic Air Command (CINCSAC), the Commander in Chief, Space Command (which includes the North American Air Defense Command, NORAD), the Commander in Chief, U.S. Atlantic Command (USCINCLANT, who is also the NATO Supreme Allied Commander Atlantic, SACLANT), 37

Stratified Crises Interaction the Commander in Chief, U.S. European Command (USCINCEUR, who is also the NATO Supreme Allied Commander Europe, SACEUR), the Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Command (USCINCPAC), the Commander in Chief, U.S. Central Command (USCINCCENT), and the Commander in Chief, U.S. Southern Command (USCINCSOUTH). In the Soviet Union, the strategic interaction level includes the Strategic Rocket Forces, the National Air Defense Forces (PVO Strany), and the Commanders in Chief (glavnokommanduyushchiy) of the Western, Southwestern, Southern, and Far Eastern Theaters of Strategic Military Action (teatr voyennykh deystiviy, TVD, often translated as Theater of Military Operations). 2 Tactical interaction is between the operational units (troops, aircraft, and naval vessels) of the two sides. Tactical interaction occurs primarily at the scene of a crisis, but can take place anywhere the military forces of the two sides are operating in close proximity to each other. Examples would include interaction between the U.S. Sixth Fleet and the Soviet Mediterranean Eskadra, interaction between a U.S. naval battle group (a carrier or battleship and its escorts) and a Soviet naval task group, and interaction between individual U.S. and Soviet ships or planes. Generally, the smallscale encounters are part of a larger interaction between the military commands on each side responsible for operations in the region encompassing the scene of a crisis. Thus, in the naval realm, tactical interaction will generally be regarded as being between larger units, such as fleets or task forces. In the stratified interaction model, coupling between the forces of the two sides in a crisis is stratified. Tight coupling at each of the three levels of interaction—political, strategic, and tactical— can occur because decisionmakers at each level receive direct inputs from warning and intelligence systems. The degree or "tightness" of coupling at each level can be different, depending on the availability of intelligence and sensors, and the strategic and tactical environment (i.e., whether forces are in close enough proximity for interaction to occur). The overall U.S. surveillance, intelligence, and early warning system can be viewed as stratified into three levels: national-level assets, strategic warning systems, and tactical sensors. Nationallevel assets include Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and National Security Agency (NSA) intelligence sources, such as reconnaissance satellites, electronic and communications intelligence (ELINT and COMINT), human intelligence, and certain reconnaissance mis38

Stratified Crises

Interaction

sions by military units. Inputs from national-level assets go to decisionmakers at the political level, but much of the intelligence also goes to appropriate lower levels in the military chain of command. Strategic warning systems include the distant early warning (DEW) radar system, early warning satellites. Pave Paws SLBM warning radars, and certain ELINT and COMINT systems. Inputs from strategic early warning systems initially go to appropriate decisionmakers at the strategic interaction level. With modern computerized command and control and military data systems, however, certain crucial elements of the information gathered by strategic warning systems can be automatically transmitted to appropriate political level control centers, such as the National Military Command Center and the White House Situation Room. Tactical sensors include radar, sonar, visual and photographic reconnaissance, electronic support measures (ESM), and tactical ELINT and COMINT systems. Most inputs from tactical sensors initially go to decisionmakers at the tactical level, and from there are reported up the chain of command. However, information from certain of the more capable tactical sensor systems is simultaneously reported directly to strategic level commanders, and, with specific prior arrangements, can be transmitted directly to political-level control centers. Two important features of these warning and intelligence systems must be noted. First, dual reporting—simultaneous transmission of intelligence to multiple users at various levels in the chain of command—is widely used to expedite the flow of crucial information. Dual reporting generally involves the political and strategic levels, but can also be used with certain tactical sensors. Dual reporting has two effects on the command and control system. On the one hand, it enhances the ability of national leaders to exercise close control of military operations in crises by keeping them better informed of events at the strategic and tactical levels. But, on the other hand, it can increase the autonomy of decisionmakers at the strategic and tactical levels by reducing their dependence on higher authority as a source of warning and intelligence. Which of these two competing tendencies prevails in a particular crisis, or in a particular incident in a crisis, depends upon the specific circumstances in which operational decisions must be made. The second important feature is that there can be substantial overlap in the coverage of sensors at the three levels. For example, 39

Stratified Crises

Interaction

Figure 1. The Stratified Interaction

Model

national-level assets and strategic warning systems can simultaneously detect some military actions. Even tactical sensors can detect some military actions being monitored by strategic warning systems and national-level assets. The effect of overlapping coverage is the same as that of dual reporting: it can enhance top-level control of military operations, or it can increase the autonomy of decisionmakers at the strategic and tactical levels. Overlapping coverage thus can either intensify or inhibit stratification of crisis interaction. Figure 1 provides a diagram of the stratified interaction model. The circles represent decisionmakers on the two sides: P designates political level decisionmakers, S designates strategic level decisionmakers, and T designates tactical level decisionmakers, with the subscripts designating the two sides. The diamonds represent 40

Stratified Crises Interaction interactions between the two sides: I p is political interaction, is strategic interaction, and I, is tactical interaction. Horizontal arrows from circles to diamonds represent actions the two sides take toward each other, horizontal arrows from diamonds to circles represent detection of the other side's actions. 3 Vertical arrows represent flows of information (upward and downward), orders (downward), and requests for permission to take specific actions or recommendations that specific actions be taken (upward). The P|Ti arrow and the P2-T2 arrow represent efforts by political level decisionmakers to exercise direct, positive control of operational forces in a crisis. Three conditions are necessary for crisis interactions to become stratified. First, the military establishments of the two sides are sufficiently large and complex that top-level political authorities cannot exercise constant, direct control over the actions of all operational units, and must therefore rely to a large degree on delegated command. Second, the military forces of the two sides are tightly coupled through warning and intelligence systems that are vertically integrated with major military commands and operational forces. This condition is driven by perceptions that striking first will accrue significant strategic or tactical advantages, thus requiring warning of attack to ensure the survival of operational forces and the ability to effectively execute wartime contingency plans. Third, stratified interaction occurs in an acute international crisis, when military forces are being used as a political instrument for crisis bargaining. This results in actions being taken with military forces that deliberately or inadvertently convey a military threat to the other side. Strategic- and tactical-level interactions also occur under normal peacetime conditions and in lesser crises that do not pose a danger of war. In fact, under normal peacetime conditions, when national leaders pay little attenion to routine military operations, there could be numerous interaction sequences taking place between forces in direct contact with the other side's forces. But such peacetime interactions are normally not important because they do not gain m o m e n t u m or seriously affect overall relations between the two sides. This is because the perception of an acute danger of war is not present and the interactions do not occur in the context of deliberate efforts to convey military threats to the other side. An example of this is peacetime incidents at sea between U.S. 41

Stratified Crises Interaction and Soviet naval forces. The U.S. and Soviet fleets are almost always in close proximity somewhere in the world, and their interactions occasionally produce incidents, such as shouldering (forcing a ship clear of a formation), threatening actions with weapons, and even collisions. But such incidents have never produced more than diplomatic protests, even at the height of the cold war before the 1972 U.S.-Soviet Incidents at Sea Agreement was signed. None of the incidents resulted in tactical-level interactions between the forces of the two sides that gained their own momentum, even though U.S. leaders responded to a few of the incidents with military shows of force. 4 The existence of stratified interaction in a crisis is not in itself important. The interaction sequences at the strategic and tactical levels can be expected to parallel the interaction sequence at the political level as long as national leaders are able to control the overall magnitude and momentum of military operations—even if they cannot control every operational decision in the interaction sequence. The three interaction sequences are described as being parallel when the intensity of the hostilities and magnitude of threat (or reassurance) being signaled by strategic- and tacticallevel interactions are roughly what national leaders desire to implement their political-diplomatic strategy for managing the crisis. What is of analytical interest is the decoupling of interactions at the three levels, which could cause national leaders to lose control of events in a crisis and touch off an escalatory spiral. Decoupled interactions are defined as interaction sequences at the strategic or tactical level in which the intensity of hostilities, level of violence, and magnitude of threat being conveyed to the other side are not under the control of national leaders. This occurs when there is an interruption of the policy and information channels between decisionmakers at the three levels. When interactions are decoupled, the intensity of hostilities at the strategic or tactical levels no longer supports the politicaldiplomatic strategy being pursued by national leaders. Richard N. Lebow describes this as institutional loss of control: "It occurs when individuals, acting on orders, or at least within the accepted confines of their authority, nevertheless behave in ways that interfere with, undercut, or are contrary to the objectives that national leaders are pursuing." 5 In principle, decoupling can lead to the intensity of hostilities at the strategic and tactical levels being either greater or lesser than that desired by national leaders. The 42

Stratified Crises

Interaction

escalation dynamics theory predicts that the tendency would normally be escalation of hostilities, but this is a question for empirical research. Decoupling of interactions occurs to the extent that operational decisions on the employment of military forces made at the strategic and tactical levels differ from the operational decisions political-level decisionmakers would have made to coordinate those military actions with their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis. Conversely, decoupling of stratified interaction is averted to the extent that political-level decisionmakers exercise constant, direct, positive control over operational military forces, or ensure that the guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control produce operational decisions at the strategic and tactical levels that support their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis. This is not to imply that national leaders always act wisely while exercising direct control over their military forces, or that tactical-level military commanders have a propensity to disrupt crisis management efforts when not under direct top-level control. Inept or indiscriminate employment of military force by national leaders can defeat crisis management efforts as easily as inappropriate operational decisions by on-scene commanders. Additionally, as will be seen in the case studies, on-scene commanders are quite able to act with prudence and caution when not under direct control by national leaders. Military commanders are never without operational guidance of some sort. When direct control is interrupted, for whatever reason, they will base operational decisions on the last direct guidance received until the tactical circumstances change sufficiently to make that guidance inapplicable—which can happen very quickly. At that point they revert to the operational guidance contained in the mechanisms of indirect control. This is an entirely rational system of command, reflecting the reality that decisionmaking at the tactical level does not cease simply because national leaders are unable to make the decisions. Once operational forces make this de facto shift to delegated command, even though nominally still under direct command, decoupling of interactions can occur. There are seven potential causes of decoupling: communications and information flow problems, impairment of political-level decisionmaking, a fast-paced tactical environment, ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, inappropriate 43

Stratified Crises Interaction guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, and deliberate unauthorized actions by military commanders. As these potential causes suggest, decoupling can occur even when national leaders are attempting to exercise constant, direct, positive control over operational forces. Communications problems can sever the links from national leaders to operational forces, leaving those forces at least temporarily under delegated command. The problems can take many forms, including outright loss of radio contact, garbled messages, delays in message delivery due to system overload, misrouting of messages, and deliberate interference by the adversary. Although the U.S. military communications system has been vastly improved over the last four decades—without which the President could not even attempt to exercise close control of military operations—it is still not infallible. A wide range of information problems can contribute to decoupling. Information flows can be interrupted by communications problems, excessive secrecy and compartmentation, or even a simple failure to realize that a particular report warrants the immediate attention of decisionmakers. Exclusive information is a resource that confers influence on policy decisions, which can lead to hoarding or hiding of crucial facts. Too much information can also cause problems, particularly when it is necessary to sift through large a m m o u n t s of inaccurate and irrelevant information to reveal what is accurate and relevant. Accurate assessment and effective use of information can be degraded by the cognitive limits on analysis and decisionmaking. 6 Information problems such as these can prevent national leaders from exercising effective direct control over crisis military operations by leaving them unaware of the need to make certain operational decisions, denying them the capability to make those decisions, or convincing them that they should delegate the decisions to lower levels. Impairment of top-level decisionmaking under the stress of a crisis, or preoccupation with a particular aspect of a crisis, can result in real-time guidance not being provided to operational forces even when communications channels are intact. Selective and sequential attention to problems is a well-recognized cognitive limit on decisionmaking. When decisionmakers become overloaded with information and urgent problems, "load shedding," to use Coral Bell's expression, can occur, producing inaction or much delayed reactions when a new problem arises. 7 Such impairment of deci44

Stratified Crises Interaction sionmaking by national leaders can rob them of effective direct control of military operations, resulting in tactical- or strategiclevel interactions being decoupled from political-level guidance. In a fast-paced tactical environment, tactical decisionmakers may not have time to describe their circumstances to national leaders and await a decision before having to take action. To use an exaggerated example, when missiles are inbound, the captain of a ship cannot wait for the National Security Council to convene and haggle over his fate. For this reason, operational commanders always have a certain amount of decisionmaking authority delegated to them, regulated by the rules of engagement. When urgent operational decisions must be made on the basis of delegated command rather than on consultation with national leaders, what might be called momentary decoupling occurs. If direct command is immediately reimposed, decoupling ceases. But if an action-reaction sequence begins at the tactical level, with operational commanders on both sides making decisions on the basis of delegated command, momentary decoupling could lead to an interaction sequence that is decoupled from the political-diplomatic strategy of national leaders. National leaders, uncertain of the implications of their politicaldiplomatic strategy for tactical military operations or even uncertain of the strategy itself, may issue orders to military forces that are ambiguous or ambivalent. To some degreee this problem is inherent in the nature of crisis management, which consists of the dual goals of protecting vital national interests while avoiding unwanted escalation of the confrontation. Ambiguous or ambivalent orders are particularly likely when they must be formulated under the stress and time pressures of a crisis; thorough evaluation of alternative tactical options may not be possible before an order must be given. A military commander faced with ambiguous or ambivalent orders may not have time to seek guidance on how to interpret them in a specific situation, forcing him to rely on his own best judgment. If his decisions, no matter how carefully reasoned or tactically appropriate they may be, do not support the political-diplomatic initiatives being pursued to manage the crisis, then decoupling has occurred. If top-level control can be immediately reestablished, the decoupling will only be momentary. But if it cannot, the momentary decoupling could lead to an interaction sequence that is decoupled from the political-diplomatic strategy of national leaders. 45

Stratified Crises Interaction National leaders could well decide to exercise only a small degree of direct control over certain military operations during a crisis, relying instead on military commanders to carry out their wishes. When this occurs, the guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control—the alert system, standing orders, mission orders, contingency plans, and rules of engagement—becomes crucial to effective crisis management. If national leaders do not pay sufficient attention to that guidance, military actions could occur which they had not anticipated and which exceed the scope of operations they had desired. 8 This could cause momentary decoupling and lead to an interaction sequence that is decoupled from the political-diplomatic strategy being pursued by national leaders. The final possible cause of decoupling is a deliberate unauthorized action by a military commander. In this case the commander has specific orders for the mission he is to carry out, but deliberately chooses to disobey those orders and carry out an action contrary to the letter and intent of his orders. A military commander might do this because he disagrees with the political-diplomatic strategy being pursued by national leaders and seeks to achieve what he considers to be a superior resolution of the crisis. Lebow refers to this as political loss of control, which occurs when "disaffected officials try to sabotage policy or impose a new policy of their o w n . " 9 More likely, however, would be the case in which a military commander deliberately takes an unauthorized action because he perceives his local tactical situation to be much more threatening than do national leaders, or believes that his orders are infeasible under the conditions he faces. The military commander could be entirely correct, but the action is still unauthorized.

STRATIFIED

INTERACTION AND CRISIS

STABILITY

The crisis security dilemma is that in a crisis, many of the actions a state takes to increase its security, deter escalation, and improve its bargaining position decrease the security of the adversary. Under conditions of stratified interaction, the crisis security dilemma is also stratified, arising from the interaction processes occurring separately at each of the three levels, and affecting the likelihood of war separately at each level of interaction.

46

Stratified Crises Interaction The crisis security dilemma is particularly likely to arise at the tactical level of interaction when naval operations are being conducted in a crisis. Due to the emphasis on striking first in modern naval warfare, which is fought at lightning speed with enormously destructive weapons, actions one side takes with its naval forces to increase its security, deter escalation, or improve its bargaining position almost always decrease the security of the adversary's naval forces. The adversary's military intentions—whether they are essentially offensive or defensive—can be perceived differently by decisionmakers at the political, strategic, and tactical levels of crisis interaction. Many military moves are ambiguous as to their offensive or defensive intent, and can increase capabilities in both areas. Interactions at the strategic and tactical levels can generate circumstances in which actions taken by one side to increase the security of their forces or improve their tactical position can decrease, or appear to decrease, the security of the other side's forces. Actions by one side prompt countermeasures by the other side that in turn contribute to an escalatory action-reaction spiral as military commanders on both sides seek to maintain or increase their strategic or tactical advantages. The danger at the strategic and tactical levels is that at some point in the interaction, one side will take an action that increases the perceived threat of attack against the other side to an intolerable level, prompting the adversary to preempt. Military commanders could have authority to preempt for self-defense under conditions specified in their standing orders or rules of engagement, or could be required to seek authority to preempt from national leaders. The key point is that the interaction process that created the circumstances in which preemption was perceived to be necessary was not under control of national leaders. The mutually reinforcing alert phenomenon described by Bracken is an example of the stratified security dilemma at the strategic level of interaction. 10 An example at the tactical level of interaction would evolve like this: movements of naval forces intended to signal resolve by placing them within striking range of the adversary's naval forces increase the vulnerability of the adversary's forces prompting them to take measures—authorized in their standing orders—to increase their ability to defend themselves. Those defensive measures, in turn, increase the vulnerability of the

47

Stratified Crises Interaction first side's naval forces, prompting them to take measures—once again, authorized in standing orders—to increase their ability to defend themselves. This type of interaction occurred between U.S. carrier battle groups and Soviet anti-carrier forces in the Mediterranean during the 1973 Middle East War. Soviet ships and submarines armed with anti-ship cruise missiles moved into positions where they could launch preemptive strikes against the U.S. Sixth Fleet on short notice. This in turn prompted the Sixth Fleet to maneuver to evade being targeted, and to deploy ships, submarines, and armed aircraft into positions where they could strike Soviet cruise missile platforms upon indication of an a t t a c k . " This maneuvering for tactical advantage continued throughout the crisis until U.S.-Soviet tensions subsided and national leaders on both sides ordered their naval forces in the Mediterranean to stand down and resume peacetime operations. Stratified crisis interactions provide a mechanism for inadvertent escalation—escalation not under the control of national leaders. In an acute crisis, in which strategic or tactical interactions between the two sides have become decoupled from political-level control, an escalatory spiral can be triggered at the strategic or tactical levels of interaction, which under certain circumstances can cause the crisis to escalate uncontrollably to war. 1 2 An escalation spiral can be touched off at any of the three levels. If it starts at the political level, with national leaders making the escalatory decisions, it encompasses all three levels. If an escalation spiral starts at the tactical or strategic level, it will not necessarily be transmitted upward to higher levels of interaction. National leaders could, for example, decide to allow an uncontrollable escalation spiral between their forces in direct contact in the field or at sea (the tactical level) to play itself out, and decide not to escalate the w a r at the strategic level. National leaders of the two sides could, in effect, decide to stand back, wait for the tactical engagement to finish, then disengage what remained of their forces. While this scenario is theoretically possible, it is not likely under the stress of a crisis, when a sudden outbreak of fighting at the tactical level would appear to confirm perceptions of the other side's offensive intent and fears of war being imminent. It is even less likely that national leaders would be able to let an escalation spiral at the strategic level, even one involving only conventional 48

Stratified Crises Interaction forces, play itself out without a full-scale war resulting. An escalation spiral at the tactical or strategic levels would be the loss of control over events that crisis management is intended to prevent. Escalation dynamics of this type are possible because of two factors. First, reliance on delegation of decisionmaking authority to military commanders at the strategic and tactical levels can allow interaction sequences to gain m o m e n t u m without the direct involvement of national leaders. Second, decisionmakers at the strategic and tactical level could, for a number of reasons, base operational decisions on their standing orders and operational doctrines, rather than on direct guidance from national leaders. Stratified escalation dynamics are prevented or controlled by two means: national leaders exercising constant, direct, positive control of operational forces at the strategic and tactical level, or national leaders ensuring that the operational guidance in the mechanisms of indirect control supports their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis. Both of these means of controlling escalation can be difficult to implement in practice. As was dicussed earlier, direct control can be interrupted or degraded by a wide range of technical, operational, and even psychological impediments. Ensuring that the mechanisms of indirect control support the political-diplomatic strategy in a crisis is made exceedingly difficult by the near impossibility of anticipating every possible tactical situation that a military c o m m a n d e r might face. Thus, there are ample grounds for postulating that an escalation spiral beyond the control of national leaders could arise at the tactical or strategic levels. The stratified escalation dynamics phenomenon can exist under an assumption of rational decisionmaking. Fully rational strategicand tactical-level decisionmakers, acting strictly in accordance with approved operational guidance, could well initiate an action-reaction sequence that becomes an uncontrollable escalation spiral. There is no need to assume military evasion of civilian control, as is done in one definition of inadvertent escalation, or military commanders deliberately disobeying orders, which is one of the accidental war scenarios. 13 To contend that stratified escalation dynamics can occur under an assumption of rational decisionmaking is not to deny that the stress and confusion of a crisis can exacerbate the cognitive constraints on decisionmaking. Misperception and miscalculation are highly likely during a crisis, and increase the possibility that crisis 49

Stratified Crises

Interaction

military operations could touch off an escalation spiral. The crisis security dilemma creates a decisionmaking environment in which misperception and miscalculation are not only more likely to occur, but are also more likely to touch off an escalation spiral. Stratified interactions can cause misperceptions of the intentions of adversaries. Strategic- and tactical-level interactions that result from military commanders acting on their own initiative, responding within the bounds of their authority to actions by the other side, can be misperceived as having been deliberately instigated. If viewed as having been ordered by national leaders, strategic- and tactical-level interactions are interpreted in the overall political and military context of the crisis, rather than the immediate circumstances that surround the interaction. This can result in strategic- or tactical-level interactions being viewed as deliberate signals of the adversary's intentions, which may not have been the case at all. Misperception of intentions can thus arise from interactions among forces at the strategic and tactical levels as well as from the signals being exchanged at the political level. Inadvertent military incidents are most likely to occur under conditions of stratified interaction, when national leaders are relying on mechanisms of indirect control and delegated command of military forces. An inadvertent military incident could spark an action-reaction escalation sequence at the tactical or strategic level decoupled from interaction at the political level as military commanders acted in accordance with the mechanisms of indirect control. If national leaders misperceive the military engagement as a deliberate signal of hostile intent or as a direct military threat to their security—a situation likely under the crisis security dilemma —escalation dynamics could spread upward, affecting all three levels of interaction and leading to war. Serious fighting could also erupt without escalation spreading to the political level; that is, while national leaders on the two sides were still trying to resolve the crisis without war. An intense engagement between the forces of the two sides in direct contact in the field or at sea (the tactical level) could spread upward to the major theater commands in charge of those forces (the strategic level) through the operation of delegated decisionmaking authority at the strategic level. Actions taken by strategic-level commanders on both sides for defensive purposes, such as increasing the readiness of conventional and nuclear forces and initiating measures to support the forces already engaged at the tactical level, could set 50

Stratified Crises

Interaction

in motion an escalating action-reaction cycle at the strategic level decoupled from the objectives of national leaders. 14 The most likely scenario for war under these conditions would be for conventional forces in the field, brought to a wartime readiness posture by escalation dynamics at the strategic level, to react to deliberate or inadvertent actions taken by the adversary's forces—actions allowing a defensive response under their rules of engagement—by initiating combat actions in accordance with wartime contingency plans.

POLITICAL-MILITARY

TENSIONS

Awareness of the problems inherent in crisis management and the escalatory impact they could have on a crisis underlies the emphasis national leaders place on maintaining close control of military forces in crises. Efforts to prevent interactions at the strategic and tactical levels from becoming decoupled can generate tensions between political and military considerations. These tensions and the manner in which they are resolved directly affect stratified interaction. Tensions between political and military considerations are inherent in the use of military force as a political instrument, and their impact on the ability of national leaders to manage a crisis is exacerbated under conditions of stratified interaction. The tensions are actual or potential conflicts between political and military considerations which force decisionmakers, knowingly or tacitly, to make tradeoffs among individually important but mutually incompatible considerations. 15 Three such tensions arise in crises: tensions between political and military considerations, operational control tensions, and wartime readiness tensions. The first source of tension is conflicts between political and military considerations: tensions between political considerations and the needs of diplomatic bargaining, on the one hand, and military considerations and the needs of military operations, on the other. Both sets of considerations are those being pursued to influence the outcome of the crisis. Tensions between political and military considerations arise because military forces must always be prepared for the possibility of combat even when being used for political signaling. Thus, such tensions arise well before force is actually used in a crisis. There are two approaches to using military forces deployed to 51

Stratified Crises Interaction the scene of a crisis for political signaling. In the first approach — the symbolic or indirect threat—token forces are sent to signal resolve to protect vital national interests and as a symbol of the overall military power of the nation. The multinational Allied Command Europe Mobile Force (AMF) serves such a role for NATO, demonstrating alliance solidarity at the scene of a potential threat to a member nation. In some circumstances, token forces serve as a tripwire, enhancing, through the likelihood of their being involved in any fighting that erupts, the credibility of a deterrent threat. 1 6 Tension between political and military considerations can arise even when military forces are used in this limited manner. The token forces typically do not have a mission other than to be present at the scene of the crisis, leaving them without a clear military objective other than survival, and even that may be compromised when the forces are placed in an exposed position as a tripwire. Military moves by the adversary that are hardly worth the attention of national leaders can present an imminent threat to the token force. It is thus to be expected that on-scene military commanders will have perceptions and priorities much different from those of national leaders in this situation. In the second approach to using military forces for political signaling, strong forces (well beyond what would be needed for a token force) are used to convey a direct threat with their intrinsic warfighting capabilities. Alerting strategic nuclear forces during a crisis is an example of a direct threat, intended to achieve deterrence by threat of punishment. Deployment of substantial forces capable of engaging the adversary's forces at the scene of a crisis is another example of a direct threat, intended to achieve deterrence by threat of denial. When military forces are used in a crisis to convey a direct threat, the tension between political and military considerations can become acute. This is because the credibility of the threat being conveyed by the forces is a function of the adversary's perception of their capability to carry out the military actions being threatened, as well as the credibility of the threat to use them if necessary. The adversary's perception of the likelihood of the forces actually being used is certainly the more important consideration, but his perception of their capabilities can influence that assessment. For example, a threat to intervene with a battalion of troops to halt an invasion by a division-sized force would probably not be

52

Stratified Crises Interaction credible. Three separate groups of adversary decisionmakers—at the political, strategic, and tactical levels—are assessing the credibility of the force. Different decisionmakers could well focus on different indicators of intent. Military commanders, particularly those commanding forces in contact with the adversary force, are likely to be more attentive to capabilities as an indicator of intentions than are national leaders weighing a broader range of considerations. The second source of tension between political and military considerations is the issue of operational control: tensions between the need for direct, positive, top-level control of military operations in a crisis, and the need for tactical flexibility and instantaneous decisionmaking at the scene of the crisis. The m a n n e r in which this tension is handled by national leaders and the military chain of command is a m a j o r determinant of whether stratified interactions become decoupled in a crisis. 17 A fundamental and ubiquitous issue in civil-military relations is the level in the chain of command at which operational decisions on the employment of military forces should be made. Delegating decisionmaking authority to lower levels can deprive national leaders of the ability to control the momentum of a conflict and to coordinate military operations with diplomatic initiatives. On the other hand, centralizing decisionmaking authority in the hands of national leaders can rob on-scene forces of tactical flexibility, leaving them incapable of adapting to a rapidly changing situation and vulnerable to surprise attack. This dilemma cannot be resolved; it must be managed on an ongoing basis every time a crisis occurs. The nature of the interactions at the political and tactical levels can be quite different. Given a crisis in which national leaders on the two sides are pursuing strategies of coercive diplomacy, efforts by each side to enhance the credibility of its coercive threats or to counter the adversary's coercive threats by deploying forces to the scene of the crisis will generate tactical-level interaction. On-scene commanders are constantly evaluating their tactical situation relative to adversary forces—assessing the threat posed by enemy forces and the ability of their own forces to counter that threat. When the tactical situation is dynamic, with both sides acting to maintain or improve their tactical situation, the result is a test of capabilities. Tactical commanders on the two sides constantly calculate the likely outcome of an engagement with each new devel-

53

Stratified Crises Interaction opment in the tactical situation. Thus, even though political level interaction may be marked by coercive diplomacy, tactical level interaction can become a test of capabilities. This illustrates why the level of control issue can be a source of tensions. The tactical situation can appear much different to the on-scene commander, operating under the guns of the adversary, than it does to top-level political leaders, negotiating with that same adversary. A military move by the adversary that is viewed as a political signal by national leaders can be interpreted as an immediate military threat to the tactical commander. Under the conditions of a test of capabilities, a tactical commander is going to perceive an urgent need for as much decisionmaking authority as he can get from his chain of command. At the same time, national leaders, particularly when engaged in coercive diplomacy, are going to perceive an urgent need for a high degree of direct control over the actions of their military forces. The result is tension between the tactical commander's need for flexibility and the political leader's need for close control of military operations. The third source of tension is wartime readiness: tensions between performance of crisis missions and maintaining or increasing readiness to perform wartime missions. This is a tension between present operations and possible future contingencies: the immediate political and military objectives being pursued in a crisis conflicting with the military objectives that would be pursued if the crisis escalates to war. This tension arises for four reasons, which may occur individually or together: dual crisiswartime tasking, replacement of crisis forces, alliance commitments, and execution of contingency plans. The first reason is that military forces do not necessarily drop their wartime contingency tasking when assigned to crisis operations. Their wartime tasking may change to make it more compatible with their crisis tasking, for example by assigning them wartime missions in the vicinity of the crisis, but their wartime tasking is rarely dropped altogether. The more capable and mobile a military unit is, the more likely it is to retain significant wartime contingency tasking while assigned to crisis operations. Forces equipped with dual-capable weapons—aircraft and missiles capable of carrying nuclear as well as conventional warheads—are most likely to have simultaneous crisis and wartime tasking. Tensions arise from simultaneous crisis and wartime contingency tasking because the military requirements of the two mis54

Stratified Crises Interaction sions can be significantly different. As an example, such differences in mission requirements would be particularly pronounced for U.S. forces when their crisis tasking entailed small-scale conventional operations against a much smaller nation (like Libya), while wartime contingency tasking entails large-scale conventional or nuclear operations against the Soviet Union. The second reason tensions arise between crisis objectives and wartime objectives is that forces detached from m a j o r operational units to respond to a crisis may be replaced by other forces in order to maintain readiness for wartime missions. For example, moving an aircraft carrier battle group out of the Western Pacific into the Arabian Sea for the possibility of operations in the Middle East can require that another carrier battle group be surged from its home port in the United States to the Western Pacific in order to cover the wartime commitments of the first battle group. During an acute Soviet-American crisis, such surging of forces to replace crisis forces could send an inadvertent signal of hostility to the Soviet Union—an example of the crisis security dilemma. The third reason tensions arise between crisis objectives and wartime objectives is that alliance commitments can inhibit forces deployed for support of allies from being used in a crisis. Alternatively, diverting forces normally committed to an ally may require that other forces be deployed from home bases to avoid the appearance of abandoning the ally. For example, U.S. ground and air forces deployed in Western Europe to support NATO commitments are rarely employed for out-of-area contingencies. The frequent refusal of U.S. allies, notably NATO and Japan, to provide forces in support of U.S. military actions in crises—even crises affecting their interests more than American interests—further compounds crisis-wartime tradeoffs for the United States. 18 In such situations, the United States must divert forces from unilateral U.S. wartime contingencies in order to respond to a crisis without diverting forces from alliance wartime contingencies. The fourth reason tensions arise between crisis objectives and wartime objectives is that as a crisis escalates and military forces are placed at increasingly higher levels of readiness (DEFCON), initial preparations to execute wartime contingency plans commence. Certain of these preparations can be initiated by military commanders on the basis of authority delegated to them, without an increase in DEFCON or other orders from political level leaders. 19 For conventional forces, preparations for wartime operations 55

Stratified Crises Interaction include increased surveillance of the adversary, measures to thwart enemy surveillance, and deployment to wartime positions. If not carefully integrated with diplomatic actions being taken to resolve the crisis, preparations to execute wartime contingency plans can touch off stratified escalation dynamics at the tactical and strategic levels of interactions.

CONCLUSION Given conditions of delegated command, tight coupling, and acute crisis, interactions between the two sides will have a tendency to become stratified into separate political, strategic, and tactical interactions. Decoupling of interactions occurs to the extent that operational decisions made at the strategic and tactical levels fail to support efforts by political-level decisionmakers to coordinate military actions with their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis. In an acute crisis, in which strategic or tactical interactions between the two sides have become decoupled from political-level interactions, the security dilemma can trigger an escalatory spiral at the strategic or tactical levels of interaction.

56

THREE

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis erupted in August when the Chinese Communists launched an artillery blockade of Quemoy Island, cutting off the flow of supplies to the Nationalist Chinese garrison on the island. The United States responded by announcing a commitment to the defense of Quemoy and assisting the Nationalists in breaking the blockade of the island. The crisis tapered off in October 1958, after the Chinese Communists announced that they would not shell Quemoy on even days, allowing supplies to reach the island. The U.S. Navy played a prominent role in the crisis, escorting Nationalist convoys to Quemoy and patrolling in the Taiwan Strait.

BACKGROUND The most important consequence of the First Taiwan Strait Crisis in 1954-1955 was a deepened U.S. commitment to the Nationalists. The United States signed a Mutual Defense Treaty with the ROC on December 2, 1954, and Congress passed the Formosa Resolution in January 1955. The Formosa Resolution authorized the President "to employ the armed forces of the United States as he deems necessary for the specific purpose of securing and defending Formosa and the Pescadores against armed attack." The resolution did not explicitly state that the United States would defend the offshore islands, but stated that the President's authority to defend Formosa and the Pescadores included "the securing and protection of such related positions and territories of that area now in friendly hands." 1 The Eisenhower administration chose not to make a formal, public commitment to defend the offshore islands, but did make a private commitment to Chiang Kai-shek on January 31, 57

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis 1955, that the United States would defend the islands. 2 It is not clear, however, that the c o m m i t m e n t to defend the offshore islands, which was m a d e as part of an agreement with Chiang to evacuate the Tachens, was intended to last indefinitely. The fact that in making the private c o m m i t m e n t , the Eisenhower administration was breaking an earlier promise (January 19) to make a public c o m m i t m e n t , suggests that the private commitment — better described as informal a s s u r a n c e — w a s intended only to resolve the i m m e d i a t e crisis. President Eisenhower would later interpret the Formosa Resolution narrowly to mean that the United States could not defend the offshore islands unless their loss would threaten the defense of Taiwan. Everett F. Drumwright, the U.S. a m b a s s a d o r to the Republic of China in 1958, has stated categorically that "we had no private agreement with Chiang to defend the islands." 3 The Eisenhower administration thus did not perceive itself in 1958 as bound by the informal assurances it h a d given Chiang in 1955 that the United States would defend the offshore islands. Between 1954 and 1957, the Nationalists increased the Quemoy garrison f r o m 30,000 to 86,100 troops—almost one-third of their ground forces. Chiang Kai-shek probably wanted to ensure that the United States would help defend the island in the event of a Communist attack—loss of a third of the Nationalist army would seriously weaken the defense of Taiwan. Chiang also had not abandoned the option of some day taking offensive action against the m a i n l a n d , and may also have deployed the troops to Quemoy to be able to rapidly exploit political upheaval on the mainland. The Eisenhower administration was concerned over Chiang's aggressive designs and sought to restrain him by hedging the American c o m m i t m e n t to defend the offshore islands. 4 Tension in the Taiwan Strait remained at a relatively low level f r o m April 1955 to July 1958. The Nationalists used the offshore islands for limited political and military operations, such as infiltration of agents into the mainland and the broadcast of propaganda over loudspeakers. The Communist Chinese occasionally shelled the offshore islands or buzzed them with aircraft. Neither side increased the intensity of their operations prior to late August 1958. 5 The more important factor appears to have been that the PRC was growing frustrated over its lack of progress in peacefully liberating Taiwan. Ambassadorial talks with the United States in Poland had failed to yield any American concessions on the Taiwan 58

The 1958 Taiwan Strati Crisis issue. 6 In July 1958, the PRC shifted to a more militant policy toward the Nationalists, and began building up its air and naval forces in Fukien Province, across the Strait from Taiwan. On August 23, 1958, the Communist Chinese commenced an intense artillery bombardment of Quemoy, firing over 40,000 shells in two hours, according to Nationalist spokesmen. 7 This marked the start of the second Taiwan Strait Crisis.

POLITICAL-STRATEGIC CONTEXT The PRC probably had four objectives in launching the artillery bombardment of Quemoy. The first objective was to deter the Nationalists from using the offshore islands for harassment of the mainland, or as a base for a future invasion of the mainland. The second objective was to force the Nationalists to withdraw from Quemoy, similar to the manner in which they had been forced to abandon the Tachen Islands in 1955. The third objective was to avoid war with the United States, which could well result in U.S. atomic attacks on the mainland. The advantage of a blockade over an outright invasion was that it was less likely to provoke the United States into attacking the mainland in support of the Nationalists. The fourth objective was to discredit the American commitment to the Nationalists and weaken U.S.-ROC relations. Weakening U.S.-ROC relations might have made the Nationalists more amenable to negotiations and even weaken the defense of Taiwan. 8 The strategy adopted by the PRC has been described by Alexander L. George and Richard Smoke as a limited probe: "In initiating their potent but limited probe via an artillery blockade, the Chinese Communists correctly perceived both the ambiguity of the U.S. commitment to Quemoy that had been written into the Formosa Resolution and the high probability that Washington would observe important limits on its military response if it decided to react to a low-level threat to Quemoy. Peking chose an appropriately cautious military operation for testing and clarifying the U.S. commitment, and for exerting pressure to erode the administration's willingness to accept risks in order to help defend Quemoy." 9 The essential features of the strategy were strict limits on the use of force against the Nationalists, avoidance of military engagements with American forces, and employment of a military option that could readily be scaled back or halted to avert U.S. intervention. 1 0 59

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis

As Tang Tsou has pointed out, the Chinese Communists "shifted to the United States the decision as to whether there would be a direct encounter between American and Communist Chinese forces in Asia." 11 Peking thus adopted a strategy that allowed it to adapt its military campaign to the intensity of the American reaction— maintaining pressure on Quemoy if the U.S. commitment was weak, or backing off and settling for lesser objectives if the United States threatened escalation against the mainland. Although Communist China primarily relied on an artillery barrage to blockade Quemoy, it also used PT boats to attack Nationalist ships and occasionally attacked the island with aircraft. On August 24, the Communists made an attempt to seize Tung Ting Island, a tiny Nationalist-occupied island eighteen miles southwest of Quemoy. The Nationalists repelled the invasion force and there were no further Communist attempts to invade any of the islands in the Quemoy group. It is likely that Tung Ting was the only island that the Communist Chinese intended to invade at the outset. Tung Ting had minor military value: it was close to the sealanes to Quemoy, so Communist possession of it would aid their blockade of Quemoy. However, the primary reason for seizing Tung Ting would have been the psychological impact of its loss on the Nationalists. Loss of the island might have demoralized the Nationalists and, the Communists may have hoped, led the Nationalists to believe that Quemoy was also indefensible. Additionally, seizing a single, tiny island would be a low-level test of the U.S. commitment to the defense of the offshore islands. If seizing Tung Ting did not evoke a strong U.S. response, other small islands in the Quemoy group probably would have been seized as part of protracted campaign against Quemoy. The Soviet Union played a peripheral role in the crisis. Strains had begun to develop in the Sino-Soviet alliance in 1956 and 1957, but as of 1958 both sides were still trying to forestall the rupture that would occur later. During Khrushchev's July 31-August 3, 1958, visit to Peking, Mao may have informed Khrushchev in very general terms of China's intention to take action against the offshore islands. In his memoirs, Khrushchev states that his government supported Chinese military aid requests for the upcoming operation. However, once the Chinese bombardment of Quemoy began, the Soviets were circumspect in their propaganda support until the Communists had taken steps to avert a direct clash with the United States. 12 60

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis The Eisenhower administration had three primary objectives, all of which were clearly articulated in American policy statements issued during the crisis. The first objective was to prevent Quemoy f r o m falling into Communist hands. This objective was driven by the specific U.S. commitment to the Nationalist government on Taiwan, the policy of containment of Communist China, which meant resisting moves viewed as expansionist, and the general principle of resisting use of force to achieve territorial changes. The second objective was to prevent the crisis from involving the United States in a w a r with Communist China and the Soviet Union. This objective required that the United States restrain the actions taken by the Nationalists against the mainland and limit the role of U.S. forces in the conflict. The third objective was to stabilize the situation in the T a i w a n Strait with a cease-fire, to be followed by an effort to get both sides to renounce the use of force against the other and to get the Nationalists to reduce their garrison on the offshore islands. 13 The U.S. strategy in the crisis had four elements: first, to deter Communist China from invading Quemoy, expanding the conflict to Taiwan or the Pescadores, or attacking U.S. forces; second, to break the blockade of Quemoy with a minimum amount of force, in particular without attacking the Chinese mainland; third, to restrain the Nationalists from launching military operations that could escalate the conflict; and fourth, to pursue negotiations with the Nationalists and Communists toward reducing tensions in the T a i w a n Strait. 14 The thrust of this strategy was to turn the tables on the Chinese Communists. Apparently assuming that the Nationalists and Americans would not be able to break the blockade without attacks on the mainland, Peking had adopted the limited probe strategy in order to force the decision to escalate on the United States. By adopting a strategy emphasizing a limited response—breaking the blockade without attacking the m a i n l a n d — the United States passed " t h e onerous burden of deciding whether to accept the existing situation or to escalate" back to the Chinese Communists. 1 5 The key requirement for the American strategy to succeed was to break the blockade of Quemoy without attacking the Chinese mainland. Militarily, this strategy carried a high risk of defeat. Early in the crisis, American military and naval commanders in the Far East were not at all confident that they would be able to resupply Quemoy under the artillery barrage. The Chinese Com61

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis munists had in effect written the rules for the military contest that was to follow, and those rules were highly unfavorable for the American strategy. Alexander L. George has aptly described the strategy adopted by the Eisenhower administration as a "test of capabilities under restrictive, initially unfavorable, ground rules." 1 6 If the strategy succeeds, as it did in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the expected outcome is reversed without escalation of the conflict.17

COMMAND AND CONTROL The 1958 defense reorganization, which removed the Joint Chiefs of Staff from the operational chain of command, had not yet been implemented. The unified commands reported to the JCS for operational control. The J C S used a system of designating one of the service chiefs to act as the "executive agent" for the JCS in controlling a particular operation. This ensured that a single commander, rather than a committee, was responsible for detailed management of the operation at the J C S level. The JCS executive agent was responsible to the JCS, but was normally accorded substantial authority and could work directly with the Secretary of Defense provided he kept the J C S informed. Admiral Arleigh A. Burke, Chief of Naval Operations, was the JCS executive agent for the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. 18 The next level in the chain of command was the Commander in Chief Pacific (CINCPAC), Admiral Harry D. Felt, the unified commander for all U.S. forces in the Pacific theater. CINCPAC reported to the J C S , usually through its executive agent. In his oral history, Admiral Felt states that he reported to the JCS and had substantial operational authority: " I had a way of operating which turned out very w e l l . . . . I'd send in something and, unless otherwise directed, I'm going to do this or that. That would be the Joint Staff's solution to the problem. And I never once got countermanded on t h a t . " 1 9 Admiral Felt is describing J S C control of CINCPAC by the method of control by negation, in which the subordinate commander reports his operational intentions rather than waiting for direct orders. There were three component commands under CINCPAC: Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet (CINCPACFLT), Commander in Chief, Pacific Air Forces (CINCPACAF), and Commander in Chief, 62

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis U.S. Army Pacific (CINCARPAC). Admiral Herbert G. Hopwood was CINCPACFLT during the Taiwan Strait Crisis. Commander Seventh Fleet (COMSEVENTHFLT) was the command responsible for naval operations in the Western Pacific, including the seas around Taiwan. 2 0 During the Taiwan Strait Crisis, COMSEVENTHFLT was Vice Admiral Wallace M. Beakley, relieved on October 1, 1958, by Vice Admiral Frederick N. Kivette. The Seventh Fleet was divided into five Task Forces (TF) and one Task Group: Task Force 72, the Taiwan Patrol Force; Task Force 73, the Logistic Support Force; Task Force 76, the Amphibious Assault Force; Task Force 77, the Attack Carrier Striking Force; Task Force 79, the Fleet Marine Force; and Task Group 70.4, the ASW Hunter-Killer (HUK) Group. 21 The units assigned to these task forces changed as ships and squadrons deployed from the United States for duty with the Seventh Fleet. The Formosa Patrol Force originated during the Korean War, when President Truman ordered the Seventh Fleet to guard Taiwan against Communist attack. The Navy ships and patrol planes assigned to patrol the Formosa (Taiwan) Strait were designated a separate task force (TF 72) on August 24, 1950. Task Force 72 became the Formosa Patrol Force in 1953, reflecting the nature of its duties, and was renamed the Taiwan Patrol Force in 1957. Rear Admiral Paul P. Blackburn, Jr., was Commander of the Taiwan Patrol Force in 1958. During the crisis, the force consisted of a cruiser, approximately twelve destroyers (the number varied), two patrol plane squadrons, and two seaplane tenders, one of which served as the force flagship.22 The U.S. Formosa Defense Command was established on December 1, 1953. In February 1957, the Formosa Defense Command received its own commander and was renamed the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command (USTDC). On September 11, 1958, the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command became a true unified command with the commander having operational control of all U.S. forces committed to the defense of Taiwan. The U.S. Taiwan Defense Command consisted of three component commanders: Commander Taiwan Patrol Force (TF 72), Commander Air Task Force Thirteen (Provisional), and the Chief of the Military Assistance Advisory Group (U.S. Army units). The Commander of the Taiwan Defense Command during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis was Vice Admiral Roland N. Smoot. 23 63

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis U.S. communications capabilities in 1958 forced employment of delegated methods of control, r a t h e r than direct methods of control. Existing communications systems had been created well before the unified c o m m a n d system was established and thus were not designed to support it. 24 Washington could not establish direct radio communications with naval forces at sea, and excessive time delays precluded real-time control of forces on Taiwan. In his 1966 study of the crisis, Morton H. Halperin noted that "it sometimes took several days for classified messages to reach Washington from Taipei or vice versa," and that such delays were "significantly to h a m p e r policymaking throughout the c r i s i s . " ' 5 The primary communications channels between c o m m a n d e r s ashore were telegraph and teletype lines. Long-range high frequency radio communications were also available, but subject to atmospheric interference and limited to radiotelegraph (manual morse code) and slow radioteletype (major ships only). Direct radio communications between Washington and the Far East or Hawaii were not possible, but telephone communications were available to Hawaii and were used heavily during the crisis (between Admiral Burke and Admiral Felt). Heavy reliance had to be placed on mechanisms of indirect control a n d the good j u d g m e n t of the on-scene commanders. Washington did not provide detailed operational guidance to Navy operational c o m m a n d e r s in the Far East. Vice Admiral Alexander Heyward, Director of the Politico-Military Affairs Division of the CNO's staff during the crisis, states that "civilian authorities did not a t t e m p t to exercise detailed control over those operations." 2 6 Navy c o m m a n d e r s were delegated substantial decisionmaking authority and given relatively broad freedom of action. COMUSTDC and COMSEVENTHFLT originated and planned virtually all of the operations that were conducted. 2 7 Vice Admiral Blackburn, Comm a n d e r of the Taiwan Patrol force, states that he experienced "very little interference f r o m the powers in Washington" during the crisis. 28 The only detailed guidance they received concerned limits on the operations they could conduct, such as how close U.S. Navy ships could come to the m a i n l a n d . Two of the mechanisms of indirect control w a r r a n t f u r t h e r attention. First, the United States, including the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command and the Taiwan Patrol Force, did not have contingency plans for assisting the Nationalists with the resupply of Quemoy. These c o m m a n d s began formulating plans for resupply and convoy 64

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis escort in late August when it became apparent that the Nationalists could not resupply Quemoy on their own, but the plans were not completed until September 3 and the first convoy was not ready to sail until three days later. 29 As it turned out, however, this delay did not have a m a j o r impact on the crisis—the Eisenhower administration did not commit itself to the defense of Quemoy until September 4, and the garrison on Quemoy had adequate supplies to hold for the additional two weeks that were required for substantial supplies to reach the island. One aspect of contingency planning caused particular problems for U.S. military commanders in the Pacific. Under the Eisenhower administration's strategy of "massive retaliation," primary emphasis in w a r planning had been on plans calling for use of nuclear weapons from the onset of a conflict. Planning, training, and logistical preparations for extended conventional operations had been neglected, particularly in the Air Force. The Eisenhower administration had previously directed, during the 1954-1955 QuemoyMatsu Crisis, that plans be made to defend the offshore islands with nuclear weapons. 3 0 When the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis erupted, some U.S. commanders in the Pacific, such as General Lawrence Kuter, Commander in Chief Pacific Air Force, expected that if a decision were made to defend Quemoy, it would be with nuclear weapons. However, the Eisenhower administration, which was not enthusiastic about defending the offshore islands to begin with, directed that planning proceed on the basis that only conventional weapons would initially be used. Nuclear weapons would only be used as a last resort with specific approval of the President. This was a significant change in administration policy, for which some commanders were not prepared. The problems caused by this policy shift primarily affected the Air Force, but also caused problems for the Navy, which had a significant nuclear delivery role in 1958.31 This sudden shift from emphasis on nuclear weapons to their use only as a last resort is an extreme example of the problems military commanders can encounter when, in the process of drafting contingency plans, they must anticipate the approach civilian leaders will want to take in managing a crisis. CINCPAC, the JCS, and the Eisenhower administration paid close attention to the authority delegated to operational commanders. President Eisenhower states in his memoirs that he "saw no need to delegate to any subordinates my authority as Commander-in65

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis Chief to commit United States forces to action," and that he therefore retained this authority himself. 3 2 However, the classified docu m e n t a r y record compiled by Morton H. Halperin shows that the President did delegate certain authority to the JCS. On September 6, 1958, the President approved a JCS request that it be delegated authority to take the following emergency actions, but only " u n d e r those circumstances when time does not permit securing the President's specific approval in each case": 1. Authority is required to replace losses of supplies and materiel and expenditure of ammunition and supplies by CHINAT [Chinese Nationalist] forces. 2. In the event of a major emergency arising from an attack on Taiwan and the offshore islands moving so rapidly that it would not permit consultation with the President, JCS would take the following actions on behalf of the Secretary of Defense: (a) CINCPAC would be authorized to augment U.S. forces engaged in the defense of Taiwan from the resources of his own command; (b) all U.S. forces worldwide would be alerted; (c) oppose any major attack on Taiwan and attack mainland bases with all CINCPAC forces that can be brought to bear. 3. In the event of a major landing attack on offshore islands, authority for the following actions not now authorized would be desirable: (a) approve CHINAT Air Force's striking enemy forces and mainland targets; (b) authority for U.S. forces to strike with conventional weapons any CHICOM [Chinese Communist] assault of major proportions moving against Offshore Islands. 4. Use of atomic weapons and U.S. air attack in support of CHINAT Air Force in 3(a) above [air strikes against mainland to defend offshore islands], as necessary, only as approved by the President. 33 In approving this JCS request, the President specifically did not delegate authority for U.S. forces to strike mainland bases in the event of an attack on the offshore islands (paragraph three), nor did he delegate authority for U.S. forces to use nuclear weapons under any circumstances (paragraph four). As Halperin points out, the JCS did not f u r t h e r delegate this authority: "The Joint Chiefs looked upon the authority given to them as not subject to delegation to c o m m a n d e r s in the field and hence did not pass on the authority to defend Quemoy." 3 4 The President and the JCS thus gave careful consideration to the authority they delegated to subordinate commanders, striking a balance between delegation and control. 66

The 1958 Taiwan Strait

Crisis

The rules of engagement authorized U.S. ships and aircraft to use force in self-defense, but prohibited them from taking offensive action against the mainland. The CNO warned CINCPAC that U.S. forces must "avoid any action which is provocative or might be made to appear provocative before world opinion." 3 5 The rules of engagement issued by Commander Seventh Fleet authorized use of force to protect Nationalist ships under attack by Communist ships, aircraft, or submarines, but warned that U.S. forces were not to provoke fire from Communist shore batteries or engage in gunfire duels with them other than as necessary for self-defense and defense of Nationalist ships. Vice Admiral Beakley sent this admonition: "Remember, the shot you fire will be heard around the world, maybe in the floor of the UN. Be right. However, the objective is to get the supplies through." 3 6 Vice Admiral Blackburn, Commander of the Taiwan Patrol Force, states that U.S. forces could engage Communist Chinese forces "only in reponse to overt offensive action by the ChiComs against our forces," and that "TF 72 commanders were enjoined to avoid getting into any shooting with the ChiComs" and were instructed to avoid confrontations with the Chinese Communists. 37 The rules of engagement issued by Commander in Chief Pacific and U.S. Taiwan Defense Command for the air defense of Taiwan were highly restrictive prior to the 1958 crisis. American fighters on Taiwan were only permitted to fire on hostile aircraft entering Taiwan's airspace and were not permitted hot pursuit in international airspace. U.S. combat air patrols were required to remain east of the "Davis Line," which ran approximately down the center of the Taiwan Strait. After the crisis erupted, the U.S. Air Force commander on Taiwan convinced CINCPAC and the JCS that these rules would cripple air defense efforts in the event of concerted Communist air strikes against Taiwan. In September, the JCS approved three relaxations to the rules of engagement: first, U.S. fighters were authorized to engage Communist aircraft crossing the Davis Line on an apparent course toward Taiwan or allied forces; second, U.S. fighters were authorized hot pursuit in international airspace and into Communist airspace; and, third, U.S. and Nationalist forces were authorized to fly combat air patrols to a limit of three miles of the mainland. 3 8 The distinction between hot pursuit (which was authorized in self-defense) and retaliation (which required approval of the President) had been proposed by the National Security Council and 67

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis approved by President Eisenhower in May 1955. By August 1956, this distinction had been incorporated into all rules of engagement issued to U.S. forces. The distinction between hot pursuit and retaliation was applied by the Eisenhower administration to the rules of engagement for the air defense of Taiwan. If Communist Chinese aircraft threatened U.S. forces, Nationalist forces outside of three miles from the mainland, or Taiwan and the Pescadores, those Comminst planes could be pursued by U.S. fighters. If necessary, hot pursuit could continue into Communist Chinese airspace and even over the mainland. However, attacks by U.S. forces against the mainland airfields from which the Communist Chinese planes operated were defined to be retaliation, and had to be approved by the President. 39 NAVAL

OPERATIONS

The U.S. Navy began stepping up its operations in the vicinity of Taiwan more than a month before the crisis erupted in August. On July 14, 1958, in response to the crisis in the Middle East, the Chief of Naval Operations had directed CINCPAC to place the Pacific Fleet on alert in accordance with the General Emergency Operations Plan (GEOP). The First and Seventh Fleets were put on fourhour readiness to get under way, a third attack carrier was deployed to the Western Pacific, and other forces were readied for wartime contingencies. 40 In August 1958, as Nationalist concerns grew over the Communist military buildup in Fukien Province, the United States took additional actions to increase its readiness to defend Taiwan. On August 3, the Air Force deployed six F-100s to Taiwan. On August 5, the CNO ordered that an attack carrier group remain in the Taiwan area and that a two-destroyer patrol be maintained continuously in the Taiwan Strait. On August 6, U.S. Air Force Pacific was placed on alert. On August 17, the Strategic Air Command placed five Guam-based B-47 jet bombers on alert. U.S. military commanders in the Pacific also sought further guidance on rules of engagement for the defense of Taiwan and on American policy concerning defense of the offshore islands. 41 These actions reveal a pattern of prudent preparations in response to indications of an increased Communist Chinese threat in the Taiwan Strait. Although the GEOP alert had been partially relaxed on August 68

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis 7, U.S. naval forces in the Pacific were still at a high state of readiness when the shelling of Quemoy started on August 23. The U.S. Navy had three attack carriers and an anti-submarine warfare (ASW) carrier at sea in the Western Pacific. The Taiwan Patrol Force had two destroyers on patrol in the Taiwan Strait and two in port Kaohsiung, Taiwan. Most of the Seventh Fleet's amphibious force was in Buckner Bay, Okinawa, and a four-ship amphibious group was in port Singapore. 42 The U.S. Navy responded immediately to the Communist shelling of Quemoy. On August 24, Commander Taiwan Patrol Force ordered two destroyers to proceed to Tung Ting Island (eighteen miles southwest of Quemoy), which the Nationalists had reported as being invaded. The destroyers withdrew upon finding no Communist Chinese activity in the area. Commander Taiwan Patrol Force also ordered USS Hopewell (DD 681) to proceed to the assistance of a Nationalist tank landing ship (LST) under attack by Communist torpedo (PT) boats, but directed Hopewell to remain clear of fighting and not fire unless fired upon. Communist PT boats circled Hopewell as she approached, but departed without firing on the American ship. The Commanding Officer of Hopewell, adhering to the rules of engagement in a tense and dangerous situation, refrained from firing on the PT boats. 43 Thus, caution on both sides averted the first potential clash between Communist and American forces in the Strait. Commander Seventh Fleet ordered Commander Taiwan Patrol Force to station three destroyers twelve miles east of Quemoy in the Strait, ordered USS Hancock (CVA 19) readied to commence combat air patrols over the Strait and air strikes if directed by the President, ordered USS Lexington (CVA 16) and USS Princeton (CVS 37) to proceed to stations northeast of Taiwan at best speed, and ordered all available minesweepers to report to the Taiwan Patrol Force for duty. Commander Seventh Fleet also issued rules of engagement for the Taiwan Strait, authorizing Taiwan Patrol Force destroyers to fire on Chinese Communist units attacking U.S. or friendly ships in international waters, and directed that U.S. Navy aircraft remain at least twenty miles off the coast of the mainland. CINCPAC set Readiness Alert Condition Yankee, defined as "war imminent, be prepared to execute war plans" (roughly equivalent to DEFCON 2). The CNO directed CINCPAC to position the Seventh Fleet for support of Taiwan, an action already initiated by COMSEVENTHFLT. 44 Thus, by the end of the first full day of the crisis, 69

The 1958 Taiwan Strait

Crisis

U.S. naval forces had been mobilized to support the Nationalists, but with restrictions placed on their actions by the on-scene commanders in order to avoid clashes with Communist forces. President Eisenhower approved the first Joint Chiefs of Staff operational directive for the crisis on August 25, and it was sent to CINCPAC and Commander Taiwan Defense Command the next day. J C S directed reinforcement of U.S. air defense forces on Taiwan, preparations to assume total responsibility for the air defense of Taiwan, preparations to escort and protect Nationalist resupply convoys to the offshore islands, augmentation of the Seventh Fleet as necessary, and preparations to assist the Nationalists in defending the offshore islands against invasion, to include air attacks on coastal air bases on the mainland. The message stated that " I t is probable that initially only conventional weapons will be authorized, but prepare to use atomic weapons to extend deeper into Chinese Communist territory if necessary." 4 5 With only minor changes, these were the operations and preparations carried out by U.S. forces throughout the crisis. Over the next week, the U.S. Navy built up powerful forces in the waters around Taiwan. A fourth attack carrier proceeded to the Western Pacific from the Mediterranean via the Suez Canal. The four attack carriers were deployed around Taiwan, and a Marine Air Group consisting of three fighter squadrons was transferred from J a p a n to Taiwan. Several warships, including an attack carrier, were ordered to the Western Pacific from stateside ports, and the normal rotation of ships back to the United States was halted until these reinforcements arrived. Additional ships were added to the Taiwan Patrol Force, raising its strength to twelve destroyers and a cruiser. B y mid-September, the Seventh Fleet included four attack carriers, one ASW carrier, three cruisers, forty-one destroyers and destroyer escorts, and seven attack submarines. 4 6 In late August, the U.S. Navy began operations in support of the Nationalists and prepared to execute any contingency operations the President might order. Day and night c o m b a t air patrols over the Taiwan Strait c o m m e n c e d on August 25, remaining outside of twenty miles from Communist territory. The Taiwan Patrol Force increased the number of destroyers on patrol in the Strait from two to four, added a heavy cruiser to the patrol, armed its patrol planes with depth charges and torpedoes, and increased their patrols of the mainland coast. On August 26, CINCPACFLT directed Com-

70

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis mander Seventh Fleet to prepare for conventional air attacks against coastal targets and nuclear strikes against inland targets if directed by the President, and the attack carrier force (TF 77) prepared plans for the strikes. The Seventh Fleet Cruiser-Destroyer Force (TF 75) prepared to bombard Communist artillery positions on the mainland in support of Nationalist convoys to Quemoy. 47 Floyd D. Kennedy, Jr. has observed that, because of the Navy's presence, "the panoply of military options open to the President ranged from the passive device of resupply under fire to nuclear attack of selected Chinese targets." 4 8 JCS sent the second m a j o r operational directive approved by the President to CINCPAC on 29 August. JCS authorized escort of Nationalist convoys if the Nationalist navy could not do so, directed that freedom of the seas be protected in the Taiwan Strait by operations confined to international waters, authorized the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command to assume responsibility for the air defense of Taiwan so that Nationalist planes would be free to defend the offshore islands, and directed that a total of 36 landing craft be turned over to the Nationalists to assist their resupply effort. The Commander of the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command was delegated authority to make the determination as to whether U.S. escort of Nationalist convoys was needed. 4 9 After the start of the artillery blockade on August 23, the Nationalists made a reluctant and unsuccessful effort to continue resupplying Quemoy with LSTs. One Nationalist LST was sunk and a second one was damaged on August 24 while evacuating wounded from Quemoy. On August 28, Rear Admiral Smoot, Commander of the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command, identified resupply of Quemoy as the critical issue, estimated that the Quemoy garrison could hold out another 15 to 30 days, and recommended that the United States commence escorting convoys immediately as a demonstration of support for the Nationalists. On September 2, the Nationalists denied a Communist claim that the supply line to Quemoy had been cut, but on September 4, the Nationalists admitted that they could not get sufficient supplies to the island to keep pace with consumption. Ammunition was the critical item (particularly artillery shells), but fuel was also a serious concern. Food apparently was never a problem. Nationalist sources stated on September 5 that three of the last four LSTs sent to Quemoy had been forced to leave before the supplies were completely unloaded. U.S. records

71

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis indicate that all five Nationalist attempts to resupply Quemoy with LSTs between August 23 and September 3 were turned back by Communist artillery fire and PT boats. 50 The United States had great difficulty getting accurate and timely information on the Quemoy garrison's supply situation from the Nationalists. Many U.S. Navy commanders and civilian officials, including Rear Admiral Smoot, believed that the Nationalists were not making a concerted effort to resupply Quemoy. The Nationalists, it was suspected, might have been trying to make it appear that air attacks on the mainland were urgently needed in order to resupply Quemoy. Chiang Kai-shek asked for U.S. concurrence on air strikes against the mainland, a request that President Eisenhower turned down. The convoy escort option was thus a compromise between doing nothing, which might have eroded Nationalist morale and strained U.S.-ROC relations, and attacking the mainland, which risked a direct clash between Communist and American forces. 51 Soon after the crisis erupted, American leaders anticipated that U.S. Navy escort might be necessary to get Nationalist convoys through to Quemoy. On August 25, President Eisenhower approved a JCS directive authorizing preparations to escort and protect Nationalist resupply convoys to the offshore islands. On August 26, CINCPACFLT directed Commander Seventh Fleet to prepare to escort and protect Nationalist resupply convoys to the offshore islands while they were in international waters, and on August 27, Commander Seventh Fleet directed Commander Taiwan Patrol Force to commence planning for convoy escorts. Fighter air cover for the convoys would be provided by U.S. Navy carrier aircraft and, during the day, by Nationalist and U.S. Air Force fighters on Taiwan (neither had night fighters). On August 29, in response to a request from Chiang Kai-shek for even greater assistance, the President approved a JCS directive authorizing the Navy to escort and protect Nationalist resupply convoys to the offshore islands while they were in international waters. Commander Seventh Fleet on August 30 authorized Commander Taiwan Patrol Force to commence escort operations, plans for escorting were ready on September 3, and the first Nationalist convoy was ready to sail on September 6.52 The most important issue in the decision to escort Nationalist convoys was how close U.S. Navy ships would be allowed to go to Quemoy. In his oral history, then-CNO Admiral Arleigh Burke states 72

The ¡958 Taiwan Strait Crisis

that President Eisenhower initially wanted the escorts to remain twelve miles offshore, whereas Burke recommended they go in to three miles. 53 There were also pressures to escort Nationalist convoys all the way to the beach, and even to have U.S. ships carry the supplies to the beach. Chiang Kai-shek requested that the U.S. escort go to the beach, and Rear Admiral Smoot and U.S. Ambassador Everett Drumright supported his request. Admiral Burke recommended having U.S. ships land supplies for the Nationalists, who had great difficulty offloading supplies over the beach. The arguments against going within three miles of Quemoy were that it implied an intent to directly defend the island (as opposed to assisting resupply), that escorting to three miles offshore would be sufficient to deter Communist PT boats, and that the three mile limit kept U.S. ships out of range of almost all Communist artillery. 54 President Eisenhower decided to halt the escorts at three nautical miles from Quemoy. The August 29 JCS directive specified that convoy escorts and fighter air cover were to remain in international waters and airspace, meaning outside of Communist China's three-mile territorial limit and no closer than three miles to Quemoy. Convoy escorts were further advised to avoid known Communist shore batteries that could reach them in international waters. 55 On September 4, Communist China, perhaps anticipating that the United States was about to join in the Nationalist resupply effort, announced that it was increasing its territorial waters from three to twelve nautical miles. The Communist Chinese announcement specifically included all of the Nationalist-held offshore islands in its territorial waters and stated that "no foreign vessels for military use and no foreign aircraft may enter Chinese territorial sea and airspace above it without permission of the Government of the People's Republic of China." 56 The United States promptly rejected the twelve-mile limit, stating it would continue to act as if Communist China had a three-mile limit. 57 The orders to the convoy escorts and their air cover were not changed. The Nationalist Chinese were informed on September 3 that the United States would commence escorting their convoys. That same day, the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command completed its plans for escort operations. Commencing the next evening (September 4), U.S. Navy ships began small-scale escorting of Nationalist supply ships in the Taiwan Strait, apparently for training and familiarization in preparation for daylight convoys three days later. 58 73

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis Commander Taiwan Patrol Force issued Operation Plan ( O P L A N ) 124-58 and Operation Order (OPORD) 324-58 for convoy escort operations on September 6. The U.S.-escorted Nationalist convoy operation was code-named "Lightning." The first Lightning convoy was on September 7. The convoy consisted of two Nationalist medium landing ships (LSMs) escorted by two patrol boats and two corvettes. The U.S. escort consisted of four destroyers and two cruisers, including USS Helena (CA 75) with Commander Seventh Fleet embarked. The Communists did not interfere with the U.S. escorts or the unloading of supplies, but the Nationalist unloading effort was hampered by poor organization and training on the beach. Also on September 7, two Nationalist merchant ships delivered supplies to Matsu without Communist interference. 59 The second Lightning convoy on September 8 did not fare as well. Chinese Communist artillery opened fire on the two Nationalist LSMs two hours after they reached the beach at Quemoy, damaging one and forcing them to withdraw. One L S M had unloaded only a small amount of supplies, while the other had not started unloading. Lack of organization and training on the beach were again blamed for delays in unloading. The next two Lightning convoys, on September 11 and 13, experienced a similar fate, coming under heavy Communist artillery fire, unloading negligible amounts of supplies, and suffering one L S M destroyed and one LSM damaged. The fifth Lightning convoy, on September 14, marked the first use of tracked landing vehicles (LVTs) launched from LSTs for carrying supplies to the beach. Using this method. Lightning convoys five through nine (September 14 to 19) were able to land an average of 151 tons each (compared with 33 tons each for convoys two through four). 60 By late September, it was clear that the Nationalists would be able to keep the Quemoy garrison resupplied under fire. On the night of September 18, the U.S. Navy used a landing ship dock (LSD), a type of ship with a floodable well deck in which landing craft could be carried and launched at sea, to deliver three eight-inch howitzers to Quemoy. In addition to being powerful conventional weapons—far superior to Communist artillery shelling Quemoy—the eight-inch howitzers were capable of firing shells with atomic warheads. The United States did not provide the Nationalists with atomic shells for the howitzers, but the mere presence of the howitzers on Quemoy sent a strong deterrent signal to the Communist Chinese.61 USS Catamount (LSD 17) carried three 74

The ¡958 Taiwan Strait Crisis Nationalist landing craft that successfully delivered the howitzers to the beach. Catamount successfully delivered three more eightinch howitzers to Quemoy the night of 20 September. 6 2 The success of this resupply method f u r t h e r reinforced the belief that the Communist blockade had been broken. Great caution was exercised during the Quemoy resupply operations to avoid clashes with Communist Chinese forces. On September 7, the CNO directed that, as long as the Communists refrained from shelling Nationalist supply ships, only one destroyer was to be positioned within view of Quemoy and the mainland while Nationalist convoys were unloading supplies; the rest of the escorts were to remain just over the horizon ready to respond in the event of a Communist PT boat attack. This restriction was lifted on S e p t e m b e r 10 by C o m m a n d e r Seventh Fleet in response to Communist shelling of the second convoy, but on-scene comm a n d e r s remained cautious. Captain E d w a r d W. Behm, comm a n d e r of a convoy escort during the crisis, states that the escorts were directed to remain at least five miles from the mainland. This limit was probably set by C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Patrol Force to avoid Communist artillery, even though the JCS directive allowed ships to approach as close as three miles. When JCS authorized use of U.S. Navy LSDs in the resupply effort, CNO specified that they remain at least three miles offshore from Quemoy. On October 8, C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Patrol Force increased this distance to twelve miles. In response to the Communist ceasefire announced October 6, the CNO suspended escort operations and directed Taiwan Defense C o m m a n d to avoid provocative actions (by the time this order was received, two more convoys had been escorted on October 7, the last Nationalist convoys escorted during the crisis). On October 23, three days after the Communists resumed shelling Quemoy, the CNO authorized convoy escorting to resume if needed, but no f u r t h e r escorts were required. 6 3 Due to these precautions and Chinese Communist restraint, there were no clashes between U.S. a n d Communist forces during the resupply operations. 6 4 In addition to the resupply operation, the U.S. Navy participated in the crisis in several other ways. A joint U.S.-Nationalist amphibious landing exercise underscored the U.S. defense relationship with Taiwan. U.S. ships monitored Communist air activity over the Taiwan Strait, provided air control and intercept services for carrier and land-based fighters, and provided air control and navigation services for Nationalist aircraft dropping supplies to 75

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis Quemoy. Navy fighters maintained a c o m b a t air patrol over the Taiwan Strait, making high-speed dashes u p and down the strait to ensure that Communist radar operators knew the latest U.S. jets were on-scene. The Taiwan Patrol Force kept at least four destroyers on patrol in the Strait and periodically had a destroyer make an appearance off Matsu to show U.S. interest in the Nationalistheld island. Patrol planes of the Taiwan Patrol Force kept a close watch on the mainland coast. Navy ships and aircraft collected electronic intelligence on Communist r a d a r sites—important in the event that air strikes had been necessary. 6 5 U.S. Navy operations contributed to U.S. readiness in the Taiwan Strait and sent a strong deterrent signal to Communist China. Vice Admiral Beakley, C o m m a n d e r of the Seventh Fleet at the height of the crisis, described the climate in the Taiwan Strait in a candid letter on S e p t e m b e r 8, 1958, to a former Seventh Fleet Commander: Times have been busy out here, mainly in trying to keep up with answers to dispatches from Washington and Pearl [Harbor, location of CINCPACFLT and CINCPAC], I guess we do forget to tell them each change of course for each ship at times. [CNO Admiral Arleigh] Burke wanted us to impress the ChiComs [Chinese Communists] by flexing our muscles, and after the show yesterday, we should have won the world championship weight lifting contest. My CVA [attack carrier] group commanders were a little too enthusiastic, and we had 4 bad crashes and lost 3 pilots before I got them slowed down. I have to get some of these carriers off the line pretty soon or we'll have breakdowns in more ways than one. I believe Taiwan has got all the forces that they need at present on the island itself, and with CVA backup, we should relax the rest of us. [Rear Admiral Paul H.] Ramsey [Commander Carrier Group One in Hancock] has worked out a plan for 4 carriers using conventional weapons, mainly against Communist air targets, which I have salted away to draw out when I need them [sic]. I think we could take the heart out of ChiCom air without much trouble. I think if the ChiNats [Chinese Nationalists] would slow down now on provocative actions that the situation would quiet down. I think they know we mean business and are not going to let Quemoy and the Matsus starve. 66 Vice Admiral Beakley's comments are revealing for three reasons. First, he shows mild annoyance toward the many requests for information he received from the CNO. 67 Second, he reveals that the Navy paid a price for the show of force put on by the combat 76

The / 958 Taiwan Strait Crisis air patrol over the Taiwan Strait, losing four planes and three pilots in accidents. Third, he expresses the view that the situation would quiet down if the Nationalists would "slow down on provocative actions," a sentiment similar to those expressed by Rear Admiral Smoot on Taiwan a n d Vice Admiral Riley at CINCPAC. 68 U.S. Navy c o m m a n d e r s in the Pacific were well aware of the danger of the Nationalists dragging the United States into a w a r with the Communists. There was little tactical-level interaction between U.S. and Communist Chinese forces, despite the intensity of U.S. Navy operations close to the coast of the m a i n l a n d . Both sides took actions to avoid clashes with the other side. During convoy escort operations, Communist planes and PT boats were sometimes seen in the vicinity of Quemoy, but they never challenged U.S. Navy units. Vice Admiral Blackburn states that during U.S. convoy escort operations, " o u r presence seemed to be a sufficient deterrence to cause the ChiCom naval forces to avoid a naval confrontation." 6 9 U.S. ships were careful to r e m a i n clear of Communist artillery as much as possible, and were never fired upon by the Communists even when Nationalist ships nearby were being shelled. U.S. destroyers on patrol in the Taiwan Strait were directed to remain at least twelve miles f r o m the mainland and Communist-held islands, a distance that was increased to fifteen miles on October 21. There were no reported instances of U.S. ships on patrol in the Strait encountering Chinese Communist naval vessels or submarines. Communist fighters did not venture out over the Strait to challenge U.S. Navy combat air patrols, although they did engage in several air battles with the Nationalist Air Force. According to the comm a n d i n g officer of a U.S. r a d a r picket destroyer in the Taiwan Strait, Communist aircraft were occasionally detected over the Strait, but they stayed to the west of the Davis Line that marked the limit of the Taiwan air defense intercept zone. The U.S. Navy, for its part, was careful to keep its fighters at least twenty miles off the coast of the mainland. 7 0 Thus, overall, there was surprisingly little tactical-level interaction between the two sides. The closest that the United States and Communist China came to a clash during the crisis was the standoff between the U.S. destroyer Hopewell and Communist PT boats on August 24, described above. A second incident similar to this occurred in midOctober. USS McGinty (DE 365) was patrolling southwest of Quemoy when a Nationalist patrol craft (PC) close to Quemoy was 77

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis taken u n d e r fire by Communist shore batteries. The Nationalist PC fled seaward at best speed and McGinty closed the PC at 24 knots to cover its w i t h d r a w a l with a smoke screen. Six rounds of Communist artillery fire landed astern of McGinty, but neither the U.S. nor the Nationalist ship were damaged. 7 1 It appears that the Communists ceased firing as soon as McGinty joined the PC, the same pattern as in the Hopewell episode. There were relatively few military accidents during the crisis. The U.S. Navy lost at least four jet fighters in flying accidents, but none of these incidents resulted from interaction with Communist forces—they were caused by maintaining a high tempo of operations. There was one incident in which Nationalist Air Force planes attacked Nationalist Navy ships in the Taiwan Strait, but the correct identities of the attackers and victims were established before U.S. forces became involved. Communist China m a d e two allegations that U.S. ships or planes h a d violated their twelve-mile territorial w a t e r s (apart from their frequent protests over the convoy escorts). On S e p t e m b e r 11 the Communist Chinese claimed that a U.S. Navy patrol plane had overflown two Communist held islands the previous day. C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Patrol force investigated the allegation and determined that the plane had not approached Communist territory closer than thirty miles. On October 9, the Communist Chinese charged that two U.S. Navy destroyers had invaded their territorial waters. Although the ships initially denied the charge, C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Defense C o m m a n d later determined that one leg of the patrol they had been on could have taken them close to Communist waters. C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Patrol Force changed the patrol route to open the closest approach to Communist territory and no f u r t h e r incidents occurred. 7 2 Communist China announced a one-week cease-fire around the offshore islands on October 6, on the condition that U.S. ships not escort Nationalist resupply convoys to Quemoy. The United States ceased escorting Nationalist convoys on October 8 and never resumed the escorts. On October 12, Peking extended the cease-fire, but then on October 20 resumed the shelling, claiming that U.S. ships had escorted a Nationalist convoy on October 19. There was a Nationalist convoy on October 19, but the Taiwan Patrol Force did not escort it. However, the evening of October 19, a U.S. LSD with U.S. escorts had conducted a resupply mission off of Quemoy, remaining twelve miles off the island. This was probably the event that the Chinese Communists used as a pretext for breaking the 78

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis cease-fire. There had also been LSD resupply operations the evenings of October 8, 12, and 13, all without protest from the Communists, making it doubtful that the October 19 LSD convoy was the primary reason the Communists decided to resume shelling. 73 The most likely cause of the renewed shelling was the visit of U.S. Secretary of State John Foster Dulles to Taiwan. Dulles arrived in Taipei on October 20 for discussions with Chiang Kai-shek. The Communist Chinese shelling was probably intended to disrupt the Chiang-Dulles talks, perhaps increasing U.S. pressure on Chiang to make concessions on the offshore islands, and to signal continuing dissatisfaction with the status quo in the Taiwan Strait.

FINDINGS This section will review the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis to answer the eight research questions. The first question is to what degree were interactions between the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis the result of actions taken in accordance with mechanisms of indirect control, rather than direct control by national leaders? The Eisenhower administration was concerned about the danger of events getting out of control in the Taiwan Strait. The position paper approved by the President on September 4 noted that, because U.S. destroyers would be operating up to three miles from the mainland, "there is thus a possibility of a deliberate or accidental hit by the ChiComs, which would have potential and unplanned reactions which might involve at least limited retaliation." 7 4 To control the risk of escalation, the President retained total control of nuclear weapons and delegated authority to retaliate With conventional weapons against mainland targets only under circumstances in which the Joint Chiefs did not have time to consult with him prior to taking action. Beyond this, however, U.S. communications capabilities in 1958 forced employment of delegated methods of control and heavy reliance on mechanisms of indirect control. U.S. Navy commanders in the Pacific had significant authority to conduct operations as they saw fit—within the policy limits set by the President and the JCS—and exercised that authority to its limits. The only detailed instructions provided by the JCS concerned rules of engagement and the limit on how close ships could approach Quemoy and the mainland. Although there would later be pressure to allow 79

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis U.S. ships to go right up to the beach in Quemoy, when the crisis erupted Commander Taiwan Defense Force and Commander Taiwan Patrol Force were keeping their ships twelve miles away from the mainland and the offshore islands. 75 Thus, the three mile limit imposed by JCS was actually a relaxation of the restriction for the forces on-scene. Throughout the crisis Washington was ill-informed of the status of operations currently in progress, which precluded American leaders from exercising close control of the operations. The overall picture that emerges is of the Eisenhower administration exploiting the flexibility of the U.S. command system for crisis management purposes. Operational decisions that held the greatest risk, of escalation were closely held. In emergencies, when the need for action was absolutely clear (such as a Communist attack on Taiwan) and could not await Presidential deliberation, certain escalatory decisions (such as conventional air strikes on the mainland) were delegated to JCS. On the other hand, decisions on the details of executing operations previously approved by the President were delegated to on-scene commanders. The second question is were the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis tightly coupled with each other? Both sides appeared to have good intelligence concerning the other side's forces and operations. The Taiwan Defense Command observed that the pattern of Communist Chinese shelling suggested they had good intelligence on the convoys. 76 Chinese protests of alleged U.S. violations of their airspace and territorial waters also suggests that they were able to keep close tabs on U.S. Navy operations in the Strait. U.S. on-scene commanders had similarly good information on Communist military activities. The Taiwan Patrol Force maintained intensive patrol and surveillance of the mainland coast. However, detection of actions by the other side did not automatically generate tactical reactions. The United States and Communist China both took steps to prevent clashes between their forces, and those measures largely prevented tactical interaction. When U.S. and Communist forces came into contact, as in the Hopewell and McGinty episodes, they disengaged rather than clashed. Thus, although the intelligence requirement for tight coupling of the two sides' forces was met, tactical interaction was dampened by measures taken to avoid clashes. The third question is were the forces of the two sides used by their national leaders as a political instrument in the crisis? Both Communist China and the United States used their forces for polit80

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis ical as well as military purposes. Communist China was conducting a limited probe of an ambiguous American c o m m i t m e n t to the offshore islands, and exerting carefully controlled pressure on the Nationalists a n d the United States. The United States responded by accepting a test of capabilities under the ground rules established by the Chinese Communists, backed by a massive concentration of naval a n d air power in the Strait to convey a strong deterrent threat. Faced with a choice between escalating the confrontation or accepting an unfavorable outcome, the Chinese backed down and salvaged as much as they could politically. The answers to these first three questions suggest that conditions necessary for stratified interaction existed in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis: the United States relied on methods of delegated control, U.S. a n d Chinese Communist military forces were tightly coupled, and both sides used their forces as a political instrument under conditions of acute crisis. Interactions occurred at the tactical level that were not directly controlled by American leaders. For example, President Eisenhower had no control over the actions of the destroyer Hopewell on August 24. The findings of this case suggest, however, that stratification is not an absolute concept— there can be degrees of stratification. Measures taken by both sides to prevent confrontations between their forces can greatly reduce opportunities for tactical-level interaction to occur. The fourth question is did crisis interactions at the tactical level become decoupled f r o m the strategy being pursued by national leaders? Three of the potential causes of decoupling arose on the American side in the crisis: communications problems, a fast-paced tactical environment, and ambiguous orders. The communications problems have already been discussed. When the President suspended convoy escort operations on October 6 in response to the Communist unilateral cease-fire announcement, the order was not received by C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Patrol Force until after two more Nationalist convoys h a d been escorted on October I ? 1 As it turned out, the extra day of escort operations did not adversely affect U.S. efforts to resolve the crisis, but it could have had a m u c h more serious i m p a c t — t h e Chinese Communists had made the ceasefire contingent on the U.S. not escorting Nationalist convoys. This was the most serious instance of decoupling in the crisis. The impact of a fast-paced tactical environment and ambiguous orders was most a p p a r e n t on August 24, the first full day of the crisis. It would be August 26 before the on-scene c o m m a n d e r s 81

The ¡958 Taiwan Strait Crisis received the first JCS directive on the crisis, but they had to respond immediately to a Communist Chinese threat of unknown proportions. In the early hours of the crisis it was not clear whether the Communists intended to attack Taiwan, invade Quemoy or neighboring islands, or just harass the offshore islands with artillery fire. The Nationalists were appealing for assistance to repel an invasion of one of the islands. Compounding this rapidly evolving situation was the ambiguous Eisenhower administration policy toward defense of the offshore islands. U.S. military commanders in the Pacific had sought clarification on the offshore islands earlier in August as tensions rose in the Strait, but the President was unwilling to state a definitive policy until September 6. On-scene commanders had ample authority to take military action under the terms of the defense treaty with the Nationalists and the Formosa Resolution if Taiwan were threatened, but initially had no specific guidance on the offshore islands. Commander Seventh Fleet and the Chief of Staff at CINCPAC would later complain about this lack of guidance from Washington. 7 8 Left to their own devices, the onscene commanders took actions on August 24 and 25—sending U.S. destroyers to the assistance of Nationalist forces defending the offshore islands—that the President may not have authorized had he been able to make the decisions himself. This is another example of decoupling during the crisis. The fifth question is did national leaders and on-scene commanders hold different perceptions of the vulnerability of on-scene forces to preemption and the need to strike first in the event of an armed clash? This appears not to have been a significant problem in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. The entire chain of command, from the President down to commanding officers at sea in the Strait, appeared to have been aware of the danger of incidents with Communist Chinese forces. The emphasis in JCS operational directives was on avoiding clashes with the Communists, and on-scene commanders took similar measures on their own initiative. These steps had the effect of preventing U.S. forces from operating in the sights of Communist guns, thus reducing their vulnerability to preemption by the Communists. Although some U.S. commanders in the Far East may have wanted to take more vigorous action against Communist China, they did not perceive a significantly greater threat to U.S. forces than did officials in Washington. Thus, the security dilemma was not stratified. The sixth question is, when tactical-level interactions become 82

The ¡958 Taiwan Strait Crisis decoupled, what factors inhibited escalation from occurring at the tactical level and being transmitted to the strategic and political levels of interaction? In the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, when decoupling occurred it did not produce tactical-level escalation. Instead, interactions remained at a relatively low intensity, and when U.S. and Communist forces did come in contact, they quickly disengaged. There a p p e a r to have been two reasons for this. First, U.S. on-scene c o m m a n d e r s exercised caution in the absence of guidance from higher authority. C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Defense C o m m a n d and C o m m a n d e r Taiwan Patrol Force initially ordered ships to remain twelve miles from the mainland and aircraft to remain twenty miles f r o m the m a i n l a n d — a policy more restrictive than that later approved by the President. This prudence compensated for lack of operational guidance, preventing escalation even when actions took place that the President had not ordered. The second factor inhibiting escalation was that both sides took steps to avoid military clashes and adhered to tacit ground rules for a test of capabilities between their forces. The ground rules included no Communist attacks on U.S. forces, no U.S. attacks on Chinese forces except in self-defense and defense of Nationalist forces in international waters, and no U.S. attacks on the mainland. Admiral Burke pointed this out in his 1959 testimony to Congress: As this situation generated, we sort of abided by rules of the other side, and they abided by our rules. They were very careful never to come out to sea, beyond their own coastline. We were careful not to go beyond their coastline, too, so that we sort of had an unofficial agreement and nothing happened. 79 Vice Admiral Blackburn, C o m m a n d e r of the Taiwan Patrol Force, states that "our people were instructed to avoid confrontations, and apparently the ChiComs had similar ground rules, as they would break off contact when a confrontation appeared immin e n t . " 8 0 This is exactly what happended in the Hopewell a n d McGinty incidents. J. H. Kalicki argues that a Sino-American "crisis system" evolved during the 1950s. In this system, "the life cycle of each crisis became increasingly self-regulated" and "the ability of each actor to handle crises with the other became increasingly sophisticated." 8 1 Both sides, he contends, learned to respect the other's commitments, limiting their interactions to probes confirming the strength 83

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis of those commitments. He also argues that American and Chinese leaders improved their skills as crisis managers, orchestrating actions with words more sensibly and imaginatively, and sending more effective signals. 82 This study of tactical-level military interactions in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis—the last major crisis in the period studied by Kalicki—supports his view that by 1958 the United States and Communist China had evolved tacit rules of crisis behavior. The seventh question is were the political signals sent with military forces misperceived by adversaries or allies, and did inadvertent military incidents occur that affected efforts to manage the crisis? This appears not to have been a serious problem during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. The military moves taken by each side were carefully designed to signal their intentions. The principal problem that the United States experienced arose from the ambiguity of the Eisenhower administration's commitment to the defense of the offshore islands. U.S. leaders were caught between deterring an adversary and restraining an ally: too strong a commitment might encourage the Nationalists to be overly aggressive, while too weak a commitment might encourage the Communists to be overly aggressive. The Eisenhower administration attempted to resolve this dilemma with a calculated policy of ambiguity, but only prompted the Communist probe of the American commitment and subsequent efforts by the Nationalists to use the crisis as grounds for striking back at the mainland. The problem was not that the Communists and Nationalists misperceived U.S. intentions, but rather that they correctly perceived the ambivalence in U.S. policy. The final question is did any of the three tensions between political and military considerations arise during the crisis? All three of the tensions arose in the crisis, but none was severe. Tension between political considerations and military considerations arose in the restrictions placed on the support that could be provided for the Quemoy resupply effort. The most efficient way of resupplying the Nationalist garrison would have been to carry their supplies in U.S. amphibious ships escorted right up to the beach by U.S. warships. However, this would have been a serious provocation to the Communists, who might not have refrained from shelling the American vessels. That, in turn, probably would have led to U.S. naval bombardment and air strikes against Communist shore batteries, air fields, and naval bases. The political restrictions on the 84

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis resupply operation were thus prudent from a crisis m a n a g e m e n t perspective, even though they required the U.S. and Nationalist navies to improvise ways to get supplies ashore under fire. Tension arose between the need for top-level control and the need for on-scene flexibility and initiative, but overall a workable balance appears to have been struck. President Eisenhower implies in his memoirs that he was satisfied with c o m m a n d a r r a n g e m e n t s during the crisis. 83 Efforts by officials in Washington to m a n a g e the crisis were h a m p e r e d by lack of information from the field, p r o m p t i n g the CNO to increase reporting requirements and send several queries to commanders in the Far East. Rear Admiral Smoot made several requests for authority to make decisions himself rather than having to refer them to Washington, some of which were granted. 8 4 According to Vice Admiral Heyward (on the CNO's staff), minor tensions arose within the Navy chain of c o m m a n d due to Admiral Burke's operational style: "Admiral Burke was a 'hands on' CNO, so he may have exercised a little more detailed control of operations of the naval forces involved than Admiral Felt or COMSEVF.NTHFI.T desired." 8 5 That this was the case is confirmed by Vice Admiral Beakley's c o m m e n t s on "trying to keep u p with answers to dispatches from Washington. " 86 However, methods of delegated control were used a n d officials in Washington relied heavily on mechanisms of indirect control, thus m u t i n g tension over centralization of control. Tensions arose between performance of crisis missions and readiness to perform w a r t i m e missions. The Politico-Military Policy Division of the CNO's staff prepared a position paper on August 24 in which the President was warned that "the United States must undertake operations which bring action to a halt quickly. Prolonged operations will diminish military capabilities for operations in other areas or for general w a r . " 8 7 Transferring the attack carrier Essex from the Mediterranean to the Western Pacific illustrates this problem: it reinforced the forces around Taiwan but reduced U.S. strength on NATO's southern flank and in the Middle East. The CNO refused to authorize similar actions that would have f u r t h e r d r a w n down Atlantic Fleet strength. After the crisis, Admiral Burke would testify that U.S. naval forces were "stretched pretty thin'' during the crisis and would have been hard pressed to respond to an outbreak of fighting elsewhere while c o m m i t t e d in the Taiwan Strait. 8 8 The CINCPACFLT assessment of the crisis praised the ability of naval forces to rapidly augment the defense 85

The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis of Taiwan, but closed with a warning: "However, as a corollary, it is also considered that such augmentation is expensive and results in long lasting deleterious effects upon material and personnel." 8 9 Thus, tensions between crisis missions and readiness for wartime missions arose during the Taiwan Strait operations. Of the three types of political-military tensions, this one was the most serious during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis.

86

FOUR

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis

The Cuban Missile Crisis erupted in October 1962 when American U-2 high-altitude reconnaissance planes photographed Soviet medium-range ballistic missile (MRBM) and intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM) sites under construction in Cuba. The United States responded by demanding that the missiles be withdrawn, imposing a naval quarantine of offensive arms shipments to Cuba, preparing to launch air strikes against the sites and an invasion of Cuba, and alerting its strategic nuclear forces. After a tense week of diplomatic bargaining, Moscow agreed to withdraw its offensive missiles in exchange for a U.S. pledge not to invade Cuba and an informal understanding that the United States would later withdraw its MRBMs from Turkey. The U.S. Navy played a prominent role in the crisis, enforcing the quarantine and carrying out a wide range of operations in support of President Kennedy's strategy.

BACKGROUND In mid-July 1962 ships carrying arms destined for Cuba began leaving Soviet ports. The military buildup in Cuba was dramatic and immediately detected by the United States. An August 22 CIA Current Intelligence Memorandum on Soviet military aid to Cuba described the buildup as "the most extensive campaign to bolster a non-bloc country ever undertaken by the U S S R . " 1 The United States closely monitored the military buildup in Cuba. 2 As the Cuban military buildup gained momentum and tentative indicators that the Soviets were deploying offensive missiles to Cuba were received, the Kennedy administration began studying options for dealing with offensive missiles and the Pentagon initiated a series of low-level military preparations. 3 87

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis A significant siep in the evolution of U.S. policy was taken on August 23, 1962, when President Kennedy approved National Security Action M e m o r a n d u m No. 181 (NSAM-181). In this document, the President directed a series of actions and studies be undertaken in light of increased Soviet activity in Cuba. Three items in NSAM-181 addressed the possibility that the Soviet Union might deploy offensive missiles in Cuba: (a) it directed that an analysis be prepared of the impact of establishment of "surface-tosurface missiles which could reach the U.S."; (b) it called for a study of " t h e advantages and disadvantages of making a statement that the U.S. would not tolerate the establishment of military forces (missile or air, or both?) which might launch a nuclear attack from Cuba against the U.S."; and (c) it called for a study of "the various military alternatives which might be adopted in executing a decision to eliminate any installations in Cuba capable of launching nuclear attack on the U.S." 4 Thus, as of late August, serious thought was being given to potential U.S. responses to Soviet deployment of offensive weapons in Cuba. In late August, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy directed Norbert A. Schlei, head of the Justice Department's Office of Legal Counsel, to prepare a study of the international legal issues that would be raised in the event that the United States took action against Soviet missile bases in Cuba. The central conclusion of Schlei's m e m o r a n d u m , submitted to the Attorney General on August 29, was that "international law would permit use by the United States of relatively extreme measures, including various forms and degrees of force, for the purpose of terminating or preventing the realization of such a threat to the peace and security of the Western Hemisphere." 5 The Schlei m e m o r a n d u m noted that either a total blockade or a "visit and search" blockade would be appropriate u n d e r the international legal principle of "proportionality." 6 Thus, use of a selective blockade directed only against offensive a r m s shipments to Cuba was considered as early as late August. In September, the Kennedy administration began taking political and military steps to respond to the Cuban military buildup. 7 The regular weekly meeting of the JCS with the Secretary of Defense on October 1, 1962, marked a m a j o r turning point in U.S. military preparations related to Cuba. The first shipment of suspected IL-28 Beagle light bombers, regarded as an offensive weapon, had arrived in Cuba on September 3 0 — t h e first offensive weapons 88

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis confirmed to be in Cuba. 8 The delivery of IL-28s and a briefing by Colonel John R. Wright, Jr., which warned that an offensive missile site was likely to be built in the San Cristobal area, had a significant impact on the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of Defense. McNamara directed the Chiefs to intensify contingency planning for military action against Cuba and to increase the readiness of U.S. forces for Cuban contingencies, including blockades, air strikes, and invasion. He did not, however, order execution of existing air strike and invasion contingency plans. 9 On October 2, McNamara sent a memorandum to the JCS specifying the contingencies in which military action might be taken against Cuba: During my meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff on October 1, 1962, the question arose as to the contingencies under which military action against Cuba may be necessary and toward which our military planning should be oriented. The following categories would appear to cover the likely possibilities: a. Soviet action against Western rights in Berlin calling for a Western response indicating among other actions a blockade of Communist or other shipping to Cuba. b. Evidence that the Castro regime has permitted the positioning of bloc offensive weapons systems on Cuban soil or in Cuban harbors. c. An attack against the Guantanamo base, or against U.S. planes or vessels outside Cuban territorial air space or waters. d. A substantial popular uprising in Cuba, the leaders of which request assistance in recovering Cuban independence from the Castro Soviet puppet regime. e. Cuban armed assistance to subversion in other parts of the Western Hemisphere. f. A decision by the President that affairs in Cuba have reached a point inconsistent with continuing U.S. national security. May I have the views of the Chiefs as to the appropriateness of the above list of contingencies and answers to the following: a. The operational plans considered appropriate for each contingency. b. The preparatory actions which should now and progressively in the future be taken to improve U.S. readiness to execute these plans. c. The consequences of the actions on the availability of forces and on our logistic posture to deal with threats in other areas, i.e. Berlin, Southeast Asia, etc. 89

The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis W e can assume that the political objective in any of these contingencies may be either: a. The removal of the threat to U.S. security of Soviet weapons systems in Cuba, or b. The removal of the Castro regime and the securing in the island of a new regime responsive to Cuban national desires. Inasmuch as the second objective is the more difficult objective and may be required if the first is to be permanently achieved, attention should be focused on a capability to assure the second objective. 10 This m e m o r a n d u m was important for t w o reasons. First, in the eyes of the Joint C h i e f s — a n d possibly M c N a m a r a as well — three of the six contingencies had already arisen: offensive weapons, in the f o r m of IL-28 bombers, w e r e already in Cuba, Cuban forces had previously attacked and buzzed unarmed N a v y planes o v e r international waters (August 30 and S e p t e m b e r 8), and Cuba was suspected of supporting Communist m o v e m e n t s in other Latin American nations. Second, M c N a m a r a emphasized planning for the worst c a s e — f o r c i b l e r e m o v a l of the Castro regime. The Chiefs w e r e thus o r i e n t e d — w i t h M c N a m a r a ' s full k n o w l e d g e — t o w a r d preparations for large-scale air attacks and invasion of the island, rather than t o w a r d planning for a strictly limited use of force, such as a quarantine on offensive weapons. Preparations for military action against Cuba rapidly gained m o m e n t u m from October 1 o n w a r d . On October 1, C I N C L A N T notified his N a v y and Air Force c o m m a n d e r s responsible for tactical air operations " t o take all feasible measures necessary to assure maximum readiness" to execute the contingency plan for air strikes against Cuba on October 20. N a v y and Tactical Air C o m m a n d fighters and attack planes w e r e placed on 6, 12, and 2 4 - h o u r alerts for the air strike contingency. On October 3. C o m m a n d e r in Chief U.S. Atlantic Fleet ( C I N C L A N T F L T ) issued a contingency operation order ( O P O R D ) for a naval blockade of C u b a . " This O P O R D was for a total blockade of Cuba and included the option of mining Cuban ports. On October 4, M c N a m a r a sent a m e m o r a n d u m to the President in which he stated " I have taken steps to insure that our contingency plans for Cuba are kept up to d a t e . " 1 2 On October 6, C I N C L A N T directed increased readiness to execute contingency plans for invasion of Cuba. Designated A r m y airborne forces, Marine landing forces, and N a v y amphibious forces w e r e directed to

90

The 1962 Cuban Missile

Crisis

begin prepositioning for invasion of Cuba. Prepositioning of bulk supplies, such as fuel and ammunition, also commenced. Plans were made to deploy the Fifth Marine Expeditionary Brigade from Camp Pendleton, California to the Caribbean. On October 8, a squadron of Navy F4H Phantom jet fighters was moved to Key West and placed under Continental Air Defense Command (CONAD) control to augment air defenses in southern Florida. On October 10, CINCLANT suggested further preparations to JCS and recommended that cover and deception be used to hide invasion preparations. On October 16, the attack Carrier USS Independence (CVA 62) and four escorts left port and proceeded to a contingency station northeast of Cuba in order to be within air strike range of Cuba on October 20 (a mission planned and ordered well before the MRBMs were discovered on October 14).13 Thus, by the time the Soviet offensive missiles were discovered in Cuba, the United States had already taken a number of actions to be ready for military operations against Cuba.

POLITICAL-STRATEGIC

CONTEXT

The Soviet Union had two primary objectives in deploying offensive missiles in Cuba: improving their position in the strategic nuclear balance with the United States, which was extremely unfavorable in 1962, and defending the communist regime of Fidel Castro in Cuba. 14 Khrushchev states in his memoirs that defending Cuba was his primary objective, but that protecting Soviet influence and prestige in Latin America and among Communist nations were also objectives. 15 However, the strategic balance was also very much on Khrushchev's mind. As he states in his memoirs, "In addition to protecting Cuba, our missiles would have equalized what the West likes to call 'the balance of power.' " 1 6 Khrushchev may also have desired to balance—politically if not militarily— U.S. "forward based systems" with Soviet nuclear missiles in Cuba. 17 The missiles would have had an impact on the political and psychological aspects of the strategic balance, enhancing the image of Soviet power. The Soviet strategy at the time the decision was made to deploy offensive missiles in Cuba was to achieve a fait accompli. 18 U.S. discovery of the Soviet missiles before they were operational effec-

91

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis tively defeated the fait accompli strategy. The Soviet Union appears to have been unable to formulate an overall political-military strategy from October 22 onward. The Soviets were placed in a position of reacting to American initiatives, which precluded them from pursuing a strategy of their own. The initial Soviet response was belligerent denouncement of the quarantine accompanied by an effort to expedite completion of the missile sites. However, the Soviets did not place their nuclear or conventional forces at a high state of alert in an effort to coerce the United States and ordered their ships carrying weapons to Cuba to turn back rather than contest the quarantine. These actions have widely, and probably correctly, been interpreted as reflecting Soviet recognition of U.S. strategic nuclear superiority and conventional superiority in the Caribbean. 1 9 Once American resolve became apparent during the October 2 2 26 period, Khrushchev commenced diplomatic bargaining to resolve the crisis on the best terms possible. His primary objectives appear to have been to avoid war with the Unites States and to avert an American invasion of Cuba, which he apparently perceived to be imminent. Additionally, Khrushchev sought to achieve certain concessions in exchange for removing the missiles: a pledge that the United States would not invade Cuba and a formal commitment that the United States would withdraw its Jupiter missiles from Turkey. 2 0 President Kennedy had two principle objectives in the Cuban Missile Crisis: elimination of Soviet offensive weapons from Cuba, and avoidance of nuclear war with the Soviet Union. In his first meeting with advisers on the discovery of MRBMs, held the morning of October 16, the President made clear his view that the missiles had to be eliminated, by force if necessary. Both objectives were expressed in the President's televised speech on October 22 announcing the Cuban quarantine. The objective of removing the missiles from Cuba was also clearly stated in the October 23 quarantine proclamation and the President's October 27 letter to Khrushchev. 21 President Kennedy's second major objective was to limit the use of force in order to avoid war with the Soviet Union. 2 2 Some of the President's advisers—Dean Acheson, John McCone, Paul Nitze, and Douglas Dillon—as well as many military men, including General Taylor, felt that American conventional superiority in the Caribbean and overall strategic nuclear superiority meant that there 92

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis was little likelihood the Soviets would launch a war. On the other hand, the President, Secretary McNamara, McGeorge Bundy, and others were deeply concerned that an armed clash with the Soviet Union could escalate to war. Their concerns were over the unpredictability of Soviet reactions and the danger of a military clash getting out of control. 2 3 Thus, although military options entailing greater force than the quarantine, such as air strikes and an invasion, were seriously considered, they were deferred in order to avoid an armed confrontation with the Soviets for as long as possible. 24 The Kennedy administration intuitively employed the "coercive diplomacy" strategy in the Cuban Missile Crisis. 25 The strategy evolved in an ad hoc manner, rather than being articulated at the outset. Alexander George has described the President as following a "try and see" approach, in which improvisation was the key feature, from October 22 to October 26. 26 President Kennedy's strategy for managing the crisis was based on four considerations: first, to seize the initiative by keeping U.S. knowledge of the Soviet missiles secret until ready to announce a course of action; 2 7 second, to preserve military and diplomatic options, dividing military options into discrete increments, and applying military force in a graduated response; 28 third, maintaining control of events, paying close attention to the details of military operations, and pacing events to allow time for communication and decisionmaking; 2 9 fourth, that Soviet leaders must not be confronted with a choice between war and surrender, and that they must be left a way out of the crisis other than in total humiliation. 3 0

COMMAND AND

CONTROL

The Cuban Missile Crisis marked the first major employment of U.S. forces under the command structure established by the 1958 defense reorganization. However, the command procedures actually used did not adhere to the chain of command established in that reorganization. McNamara passed orders to General Taylor, rather than to the cognizant unified commander, Commander in Chief Atlantic (CINCLANT).31 Reverting to pre-1958 procedures, the JCS on October 19 designated the CNO, Admiral Anderson, as its executive agent for CINCLANT Cuban operations. 3 2 This placed the CNO in the chain of command between the Secretary of De93

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis fense and CINCLANT, 33 shifted responsibility for planning and drafting orders from the Joint Staff to the CNO's staff (OPNAV, the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations), 34 and caused Flag Plot — the CNO's operations control center—to be the JCS OPCON center for CINCLANT operations during the crisis. 35 Admiral Anderson insisted on this at the time, remarking to then-Captain Houser that "this is a Navy show, we're going to show them how it's d o n e . ' 3 6 The pre-1958 command arrangements were designed to support a command philosophy emphasizing substantial delegation of control, rather than highly centralized control. The JCS executive agent system presupposed that commanders in the field or at sea had substantial autonomy and need only be given an objective and overall guidelines for their operations. It was not a system for facilitating close control of operations by the White House. The President and McNamara attempted to exercise centralized control through a command system designed for decentralized control. The White House Situation Room, established in 1961 to provide the President with better communications and related facilities for managing crises, contained regular and secure ("scrambled") telephones, teletype and voice radios, and a collection of maps and charts. 3 7 During the crisis, the location and status of U.S. forces and all available intelligence on Soviet and Cuban forces was assembled there for twice-daily Presidential briefings. The President had complete and timely information on all Navy units participating in the quarantine and all related operations in the Atlantic and Caribbean. Soviet bloc merchant ships en route to Cuba and Soviet submarines discovered by the Navy were tracked in the Situation Room. 38 Flag Plot contained extensive communications equipment, large wall charts, and separate conference and briefing rooms. When the CNO was designated the JCS executive agent on October 19, the Flag Plot staff was placed on alert and augmented with specialists from other sections of OPNAV. Captain Carmichael, Director of Flag Plot during the crisis, has described the information available there: Since the CNO was running the show, Flag Plot kept track of all forces—Army, Navy and Air Force—assigned to the operation. . . . Flag Plot maintained a ship locator for all U.S. Navy ships or any special interest ship. Pertinent ones were plotted on the world charts mounted on the walls. Records were kept of all ship movements and other information necessary for keeping the Navy 94

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis picture world-wide.... As complete a picture of forces location as possible was kept and displayed so that Admiral Anderson could exercise command. 3 9 Every evening during the crisis, M c N a m a r a was briefed at 10:00 P.M. in Flag Plot on the status of the q u a r a n t i n e and CINCLANT forces alerted for Cuban contingencies. 4 0 He was thus exposed daily to all of the information available to the CNO on the status of CINCLANT operations and Soviet forces in Cuba, the Caribbean, and the Atlantic. 4 1 The next level in the Chain of C o m m a n d was CINCLANT, commanded by Admiral Dennison. CINCLANT had three component c o m m a n d e r s during the Cuban Missile Crisis: Admiral Dennison, Commander in Chief Atlantic Fleet (CINCLANTFLT) as well as CINCLANT, was C o m m a n d e r in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Atlantic (CINCNAVLANT); General Walter C. Sweeney, Jr., Commander Tactical Air C o m m a n d (TAC), w a s C o m m a n d e r in Chief Air Force Atlantic (CINCAFLANT); General Herbert B. Powell, Commanding General Continental Army C o m m a n d (USCONARC), was Comm a n d e r in Chief Army Atlantic (CINCARLANT). 42 Under the CINCLANT component commanders were several Task Forces. The Navy and Marine Corps Task Forces under CINCLANTFLT were TF 135, the Carrier Strike Force; TF 136, the Blockade Force; TF 137, the Combined Latin American/U.S. Quarantine Force; TF 128, the Amphibious Force; TF 129, the Marine Corps Landing Force; a n d TF 81/83, the Anti-Submarine Warfare Force Atlantic. Army and Air Force units were also organized into several task forces. The c o m m a n d structure for the forces assigned to Cuban contingencies was thus highly complex. 4 3 U.S. communications capabilities had m a d e significant advances since 1958, allowing a greater degree of direct control over naval operations than had ever been possible before. CINCLANT, Flag Plot, NMCC, and the White House Situation Room all had the ability to c o m m u n i c a t e directly with ships at sea over voice radio. Three advances in communications technology were particularly important: First, secure telephone lines (voice encryption, commonly called "scrambled") connected the White House, Flag Plot, NMCC, and CINCLANT. This allowed discussion of classified information without risk of Soviet interception. Second, high-frequency (HF), single sideband (SSB) clear and secure (encrypted) voice radio equipment was coming into widespread use. HF/SSB radio allowed c o m m a n d e r s ashore to speak directly with forces afloat, a 95

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis crucial capability for exercising direct control of naval operations. The CNO had a Composite Fleet SSB Command Net and CINCLANT had two SSB nets. Third, the Navy had long-range HF radioteletype broadcasts with on-line encryption for message communications between shore stations and ships at sea. This system greatly expedited the flow of information to ships at sea. Microwave communications were not yet in widespread use, and satellite communications were still experimental. 4 4 Modern communication systems were perceived by civilian leaders as providing the capabilities they needed to exercise close control of naval operations during the crisis. Vice Admiral Houser, who worked closely with M c N a m a r a and Gilpatric, noted this: "Modern communications also affected the civilians. There was a fascination with this. They had an a t t i t u d e of 'I'm in charge,' and that they had the tools to be in charge." 4 5 CINCLANT noted that centralized control of the operation determined the m a n n e r in which communications capabilities were utilized: This operation was directed in great part from the seat of government in Washington. In this connection, there was a steady flow of instructions from Washington to CINCLANT which required rapid dissemination to the operating forces. Also, there was a pressing requirement for a prompt, accurate and complete flow of the current status and results of operations. Although the CW [radioteletype and radiotelegraph] communications were generally fast and good, the requirement for expediting matters required extensive use of the single sideband voice radio. 46 Thus, the President's determination to maintain close control of naval operations generated the d e m a n d s placed on the communications system. On the other hand, although the President had HF/SSB voice radio available in the White House Situation Room, there is no evidence that he ever spoke with any Navy ships or c o m m a n d e r s at sea. 47 It is likely, however, that the President and his advisers listened to reports coming in from the q u a r a n t i n e line over Navy HF/SSB voice radio nets. Admiral Ward states that Flag Plot and the White House were monitoring his HF/SSB communications with CINCLANT. 48 During high interest operations at sea, the President's advisers may have used the HF/SSB net to request further details. This would account for Admiral Dennison's oral history statement that when the White House tried to get on the radio it 96

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis would "gum u p " his command circuits: "I had to tell all these Washington stations to get off my circuits and stay off because they were interfering with operations." 4 9 The President thus had the capability to monitor Navy operations at sea. Direct HF/SSB communications from ships at sea to Washington —NMCC, Flag Plot, and the White House Situation Room—appear to have been used only in two situations. The first situation was during intercepts of Soviet merchant ships. Admiral Ward states that U.S. Navy ships were directed to report the name, description, and deck cargo of ships they intercepted to CINCLANTFLT and the CNO (Flag Plot). Captain James W. Foust, Commanding Officer of USS John R. Pierce (DD 753) during the crisis, states that a "running account" of the boarding of the Lebanese freighter Marucla was provided to Commander Second Fleet and CINCLANTFLT on the HF/SSB net. 50 This net was also monitored in the CNO's Flag Plot and the White House Situation Room. The second situation was during the trailing of known Soviet submarines. Captain George L. Dickey, Jr., Commanding Officer of USS Lawe (DD 763) during the crisis, states that while tracking a Soviet submarine he was directed to come up on the voice net for direct communications with Flag Plot. Captain Robert J. Wissman, Operations Officer for Commander Carrier Division Eighteen, states that USS Essex (CVS 9) did the same thing. When ASW helicopters or aircraft from Essex were tracking a Soviet submarine, their reports would be relayed "real time" to Norfolk (CINCLANT Quarantine Plot) and Washington (Flag Plot)." Such reports could have been monitored in the White House Situation Room—at least by the Situation Room staff, which could immediately notify the President and his advisers of urgent developments. However, there is no conclusive evidence that the President or his advisers routinely monitored ASW operations "real time." Given that President Kennedy did not attempt to control other operations while they were actually in progress, it is unlikely that he would have monitored ASW operations, which could drag on for days. On the other hand, the Situation Room staff had the capability of using reports coming over HF/ SSB voice radio to keep their charts updated with the latest information on Soviet submarines. 52 The CINCLANT history of the crisis concluded that the Defense Communications System performed well, but that it experienced numerous problems. Problems included lack of telephone and telegraph lines in the Southeastern United States to accommodate the 97

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis buildup of forces, insufficient portable communications equipment, lack of compatibility between the communications equipment of the three services, insufficient secure voice and on-line encryption equipment, lack of frequency coordination, and h e a v i h overloaded circuits with attendant backlogs of messages. 5 3 All of these problems would have degraded the President's ability to exercise close control of military operations. CINCLANT provided a similarly mixed view of how well the Navy communications system performed during the crisis. The CINCLANT conclusion would appear to be favorable: "Ship/shore communications with the commands afloat and tactical communications between the task force units were excellent throughout most of the period of the crisis. Radio propagation phenomena and other factors affecting reliability caused less than 10 percent outage on radio circuits." 5 4 However, this statement only addresses the ability to maintain radio circuits, and the CINCLANT reporl also contains a long list of problems. The Fleet Radioteletype Broadcast system was in the midst of converting to faster teletypes which created traffic backlogs as messages had to be transmitted on separate broadcasts for old and new teleypes. There was an overwhelming number of messages—the n u m b e r of messages per month during the crisis was more than three times greater than the pre-crisis average—and a large n u m b e r of excessively long messages, which were difficult to transmit and often had to be sent repeatedly. The total volume of traffic exceeded the capacity of the Fleet Radioteletype Broadcast, requiring that an additional broadcast be initiated for broadcasting to m a j o r afloat c o m m a n d s . An inordinate proportion of messages were given high transmission precedence—an attempt to expedite time-critical orders that backfired by creating a backlog of high precedence messages. An un usually high proportion of messages were classified Secret or Top Secret, which created backlogs due the requirement for on-line encryption of such traffic. 55 Such problems are symptoms of centralized control of large-scale naval operations. Participants in the crisis recount instances of serious operational problems caused by difficulties with message communications. On at least one occasion a commander afloat did not receive a crucial message. At the start of the crisis, Rear Admiral Ernest E. Christiansen, Commander Carrier Division 18, was embarked in the ASW carrier USS Essex (CVS 9), which was conducting air operations at sea off Guantanamo. On October 23, Rear Admiral Chris98

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis tiansen did not receive a CINCLANTFLT message directing Essex to join the Blockade Force east of the B a h a m a s — i m p o r t a n t because Essex was designated to intercept a Soviet ship the next morning. 5 6 Captain Donald L. Lassell, Commander Destroyer Division 601 and C o m m a n d e r of the Florida Strait Protection of Shipping Patrol during the crisis, has also described severe problems with message communications. When the quarantine was announced, Captain Lassell, w h o was headquartered ashore at Key West, h a d to recall his ships from a contingency holding area northeast of Key West in order to send them to patrol sectors in the Florida Strait: All I had to do is call my ships back. Simple: I wrote an OPIMMEDIATE [Operational Immediate transmission precedence, second only to Flash] message to my Flagship, telling them to come back. You never heard of the Air Force, though. Every one of their messages is OPIMMEDIATE. The backlog was impossible. . . . It took 38 hours for my first OPIMMEDIATE message to get through to Saufley [the Flagship], no more than ISO miles away.57 Had Captain Lassell not been able to get a message to Saufley via helicopter, there would have been no ships on patrol between Cuba and the United States for the first day and a half of the crisis. Captain Carmichael described the scene in Washington: "Communications were chaotic. . . . Extremely wordy messages, including operations orders, hit the air in numbers you would not believe. The highest priority traffic was taking up to 48 hours to go from originator to addressees." 5 8 Such communications problems give rise to decoupling and degrade crisis management. The HF/SSB voice radio net also experienced problems. Flag Plot and the Situation Room could not monitor every merchant ship intercept a n d s u b m a r i n e prosecution "real time" because not every Navy ship had HF/SSB equipment and some ships suffered casualties to their HF/SSB equipment. The three HF/SSB nets in use during the crisis were often overloaded due to too many stations a t t e m p t i n g to use the circuits, excessively detailed reporting requirements, a n d n u m e r o u s long transmissions by higher authorities. Voice HF communications are much more vulnerable to radio propagation problems than are radioteletype or radiotelegraph HF communications. At times, USS Essex had to relay HF/SSB voice transmissions between CINCLANT and Admiral Ward due to HF propagation problems. Admiral Ward noted that "Communica99

The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis tions within the [quarantine] line and on other circuits were not good due to poor radio frequency propagation in the atmosphere." 5 9 Thus, the key technological innovation that made direct control possible—HF/SSB voice radio—was seriously degraded during the crisis. Soon after the quarantine of Cuba was announced on October 22, the President became aware that he did not have sufficient communications capabilities to manage the crisis in the manner he desired. During the first EXCOMM meeting on October 23, the "problem of effective communications" was discussed and the President's Science Advisor, Jerome B. Weisner, was appointed to head an interdepartmental review of the problem. Dr. Weisner presented an initial briefing on the communications situation at the October 24 morning EXCOMM meeting, and the President "directed that most urgent action be taken by State, Defense, and CIA to improve communications worldwide, but particularly in the Caribbean area." 6 0 That effort was unsuccessful — the problems did not abate until after the crisis peaked and U.S. forces began to stand down. President Kennedy and his advisers were forced by the immense scale of operations being conducted to focus their attention on particular operations. Navy quarantine operations, particularly the intercept and boarding of Soviet bloc ships, received first priority for White House attention. Another area that received close attention was operations by Navy ships close to Cuban waters. Whenever Navy ships trailing Soviet vessels or conducting other surveillance approached the coast of Cuba, their movements were closely monitored. Vice Admiral Houser has pointed out additional areas of attention: "The big concerns were reconnaissance flights over Cuba, the [SAC] airborne alert, civil defense, the Marines, and air strikes." 6 1 The Marines, he clarified, meant invasion preparations. Records from EXCOMM meetings reveal that all of these topics except civil defense were discussed at length. 62 Admiral Anderson and Admiral Dennison made a concerted effort to protect the chain of command from what they viewed as White House interference. Admiral Anderson discusses this frankly in his oral history: "I was determined, as far as the Navy was concerned, that we had two principle considerations. . . . Second, that there was to be a firm impediment by the higher authorities of the Navy for any direct control or interference by our civilian authorities to our operating forces, [sic] We did not want, and I 100

The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis had it pretty well set up, to prevent any intrusion by McNamara or anybody else in the direct operations of any ship or squadron or anything of the sort." 6 J Admirals Anderson and Dennison reacted as they did not only because direct White House control of operations affronted their professional sensibilities, but also because McNamara implemented on an ad hoc basis what was in effect a major change in U.S. command and control doctrine. The President and his advisers paid close attention to mechanisms of indirect control. Rather than allow the Navy to carry out the quarantine in accordance with its standing orders, the President and McNamara had the CNO prepare mission orders specifying how the operation was to be conducted, then carefully reviewed and approved them. The procedures contained in the mission orders differed little from those contained in Navy standing orders, but the President ascertained that the quarantine would be conducted so as to support his crisis management objectives. 64 Contingency plans for military action against Cuba were important during the crisis. In mid-1961, the President had directed the Joint Chiefs to commence contingency planning for military action against Cuba. Initially two contingency plans were prepared: CINCLANT Operation Plan [OPLAN] 312-61 (later renumbered 312-62) for air strikes against Cuba, and CINCLANT OPLAN 3 1 4 61 for invasion of Cuba. These plans were tentatively approved by JCS in the fall of 1961. An alternate invasion contingency plan, CINCLANT OPLAN 316-62, was ready by early 1962. All three CINCLANT OPLANs were reviewed and updated continuously through October 1962.65 The Navy had two additional contingency plans. CINCLANTFLT Operation Order (OPORD) 36-61 was for the evacuation and defense of Guantanamo. The evacuation and reinforcement portions of this OPORD were carried out during the crisis, but no Cuban threat to the base developed, so the combat operations contained in the OPORD were not executed. CINCLANTFLT OPORD 41-62, issued October 3, 1962, was for a total blockade of Cuba in support of OPLAN 314-61 or 316-62. When the President decided to impose a limited "search and seizure" blockade of offensive weapons to Cuba, OPORD 41-62 was superseded by CINCLANTFLT OPORD 43-62, issued October 20. From this point onward, the President had decided to conduct a limited blockade and the OPORDs took on the character of mission orders rather than contingency plans. OPORD 43-62 was substantially revised to reflect additional pres101

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis idential guidance and was reissued as CINCLANTFLT OPORD 4 5 62 on October 21, 1962. This OPORD was used to conduct the quarantine, with minor revisions (primarily renaming the blockade a quarantine) issued on October 22 and 23. It was supplemented by COMSECONDFLT OPORD 1-62, issued by Admiral Ward on October 22. 66 Recollections vary as to how much the President and McNamara knew about the CINCLANT contingency plans prior to October. Admiral Dennison states in his oral history that "my plans were approved by the Joint Chiefs of Staff and, of course, were known to the President." 6 7 Most senior Navy officers involved in the crisis state that McNamara undoubtedly was briefed on the contingency plans, given his attention to detail. Vice Admiral Houser states that while Deputy Secretary of Defense Gilpatric probably was aware of the plans, he probably was not briefed on them "until it was needed," which would have been in early October. The same may also be true for McNamara and President Kennedy: they probably were aware of the contingency plans but not briefed on them in detail until early October. The civilian official who appears to have known the most about the plans was Robert Kennedy, due to his being Chairman of the Cuba Coordinating Committee, which reviewed all plans and preparations for action against Cuba. Vice Admiral Blouin, Secretary to the Joint Chiefs immediately prior to the crisis, suggested that Robert Kennedy probably reviewed the contingency plans. 68 McNamara and the President paid close attention to the Cuban contingency plans after October 1, when McNamara directed the Chiefs to commence general preparations to execute them. On October 4, McNamara sent the President a memorandum primarily assessing the Soviet SAM sites in Cuba, but also responding to a presidential inquiry as to the impact of the SAMs on the Cuban contingency plans. McNamara reassured the President that "I have taken steps to insure that our contingency plans for Cuba are kept up to date." 6 9 The Cuban contingency plans were discussed at length during the October 16 meetings with the President on the Soviet MRBMs discovered in Cuba. In those meetings, McNamara demonstrated thorough knowledge of the plans and defended the Air Force view that air strikes would have to cover a wide range of air defense targets rather than just the MRBM sites. By the October 27 EXCOMM meeting, when it appeared that air strikes and an invasion might have to be ordered in the next few days, even the 102

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis President was able to discuss the contingency plans in great detail, including the n u m b e r of sorties that would be required to execute OPLAN 312-62. 7 0 A striking feature of President Kennedy's management of the crisis is his ordering implementation of specific actions contained in the Cuban contingency plans without authorizing execution of the overall plans. The President was a w a r e of the need to commence preparations for an invasion of Cuba, and during the first meeting of the crisis on October 16, he directed that such preparations proceed. 7 1 However, he did not execute the Cuban contingency plans—even the preparatory phases. The preparatory phases of the two invasion plans could be executed to be prepared for invasion later. 7 2 Nevertheless, the President refused to be bound by the timetables and courses of action in the two plans. The President approved specific invasion and air strike preparations individually, which required that operational c o m m a n d e r s write separate orders for those actions r a t h e r than simply implementing the guidance contained in the contingency plans. R a t h e r than executing OPLAN 316-62, the President incrementally authorized specific preparatory actions contained in the plan. This is revealed by a comment in the CINCLANT report on the October 22 JCS order sending the Fifth Marine Expeditionary Brigade f r o m C a m p Pendleton to the Caribbean: "This step appeared to be another incremental execution of actions outlined in the Contingency Plan without execution of the plan itself." 7 3 The President would eventually authorize a wider range of preparations than were originally included in OPLAN 316-62, indicating that it was not his intent to constrain the ability of the military to carry out the plan if he so ordered. His objective was maintaining control of events. Rules of engagement were used to exercise indirect control over certain military operations during the Cuban Missile Crisis, particularly q u a r a n t i n e force operations. For the most part, naval operations were governed by standing peacetime rules of engagement issued by JCS, CINCLANT, CINCLANTFLT, and Commander Antis u b m a r i n e Warfare Force Atlantic (COMASWFORLANT). The rules of engagement for the quarantine of Cuba were drafted by Captain Turner F. Caldwell of OPNAV (the CNO's staff). Captain Caldwell commenced working on detailed blockade procedures, including rules of engagement, on Friday, October 19, after McN a m a r a directed the CNO to prepare plans for a limited blockade 103

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis on offensive a r m s to Cuba. Captain Caldwell completed them the next day and the CNO presented them to McNamara that afternoon. The CNO briefed the President and his advisers on Navy plans for the q u a r a n t i n e on Sunday, October 21, and McNamara approved the final plans—including the rules of engagement — that evening. The JCS directive for the quarantine was issued on Monday, October 22. It included the rules of engagement drafted by Captain Caldwell, with virtually no changes. 7 4 Although not a part of the q u a r a n t i n e rules of engagement per se, use of force against m e r c h a n t vessels was addressed in the intercept and boarding procedures issued by CINCLANTFLT: In stopping ships to be visited, use all/any available communications to signify intent, including such means as international code signals, flashing light, radio, or loud speakers. If these means fail, warning shots shall be fired across the bow, or, in the case of submarines, equivalent warning action. These means failing, minimum force may be used. Attempt, if possible, to damage only non-vital parts, such as the rudder, and attempt to avoid injuries or loss of life. . . . If destruction of ship is necessary, ample warning and intentions should be given to permit sufficient time for debarkation by passengers and crew. Assistance to maximum extent permitted by operational conditions should be furnished. 75 This was essentially the same guidance contained in Navy tactical publications. According to Vice Admiral Caldwell, "The chief difference was stress on caution. It was desired to accomplish the purpose with m i n i m u m use of force." 7 6 The rules of engagement for the q u a r a n t i n e issued by CINCLANTFLT, based on JCS guidance, were as follows: Any ships, including surface warships, armed merchant ships or submarines, or any aircraft, which interfere with or threaten to interfere with a U.S. ship engaged in visit and search will be treated as hostile and may be engaged to the extent required to terminate the interference. Any ships, including surface warships, armed merchant ships or submarines, or any aircraft, which take actions which can reasonably be considered as threatening a U.S. ship engaged in visit and search may be subjected to attack to the extent required to terminate the threat. 77 These rules were not significantly different from standing peacetime naval rules of engagement, which allowed Navy ships to use 104

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis force in self defense. The rules invoke the principle of anticipatory self defense upon detection of "actions which can reasonably be considered as threatening." This also was not significantly different from the peacetime rules of engagement: The Navy had adopted the principle of anticipatory self defense in 1958, authorizing use of force when there was "clear and present danger to the security of the U.S. or its forces." 7 8 The quarantine rules of engagement thus served to reiterate the guidance contained in standing peacetime rules. 79 The basic guidance contained in the quarantine rules of engagement was revealed publicly by the Kennedy administration. The New York Times stated on October 24 that "The blockading ships can also use force if attacked." 8 0 The Quarantine Proclamation signed by the President on October 23 addressed the conditions under which force would be used against merchant ships: "In carrying out this order, force shall not be used except in case of failure or refusal to comply with directions, or with regulations or directives the Secretary of Defense issued hereunder, after reasonable efforts have been made to communicate them to the vessel or craft, or in case of self-defense. In any case, force shall be used only to the extent necessary." 8 1 The Soviets and Cubans were thus forewarned of the actions that would provoke use of force by the United States. The quarantine rules of engagement specifically authorized use of force against submarines in self-defense or anticipatory selfdefense. McNamara and President Kennedy reviewed and approved the proposed rules of engagement drafted by Captain Caldwell before they were issued by the JCS on Monday, October 22, and therefore probably knew that U.S. Navy ships had been given such authority. Although it cannot be demonstrated conclusively that the President fully understood the implications of the quarantine rules of engagement, the fact that McNamara and the President authorized these rules suggests that they appreciated the Navy's concern for the Soviet submarine threat and did not want to unnecessarily endanger Navy ships. This could well explain the President's concern that a clash with a Soviet submarine might be imminent on October 24. 82 President Kennedy was concerned because he knew that U.S. ships were authorized to use force against Soviet submarines in self-defense. Rules of engagement were also issued for encounters with Cuban air and naval forces. The guidance promulgated by Commander Key West Force to the forces operating near Cuba was that "Any 105

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis ship or aircraft which attacks, or reasonably threatens to attack, a US flag ship will be treated as hostile and may be engaged to the extent required to terminate the t h r e a t . " 8 3 The rules of engagement specifically addressed the threat from Cuban patrol boats a r m e d with anti-ship missiles: "Permission is granted to immediately engage and destroy any Komar-class PGMG [guided missile fast patrol boat] which makes a hostile approach on U.S. naval forces or U.S. merchant ships." 8 4 Although these rules authorized use of force in anticipatory selfdefense, Navy operational c o m m a n d e r s emphasized caution and restraint in applying the rules. Captain Donald L. Lassell, Deputy C o m m a n d e r of the Key West Force and C o m m a n d e r of the Florida Strait Protection of Shipping Patrol, states that " m y ships had orders to return fire if fired upon, but not to initiate an action without clearing it first with me. We had no intention of initiating hostilities." 8 5 Captain Robert E. Brady, Commanding Officer of USS John R. Perry (DE 1034), one of the ships on patrol in the Florida Strait during the crisis, states: The rules of engagement were basically those of self-preservation —fire if fired upon. The exception was that we were to fire if it became obvious that we were about to be fired upon. This was apparently a concession to the missile threat, but it was not really carte blanche, because we were in constant communication with COMKWESTFOR, and CINCLANT or CINCLANTFLT would jump in quickly if there was any hint of trouble. 86 Thus, although U.S. Navy ships were authorized to use force in anticipatory self-defense, local operational c o m m a n d e r s closely controlled the tactical situation. U.S. Navy forces other than those under C o m m a n d e r Key West Force would have been governed by standing peacetime rules of engagement in an encounter with Cuban forces. Vice Admiral John T. Hayward, c o m m a n d e r of the USS Enterprise (CVAN 65) attack carrier group during the crisis, provided comments illustrating how the peacetime rules functioned: They [the rules of engagement] were not significantly different [from peacetime rules], but I was prepared to engage any threat as I perceived it to the Task Force and instructed all hands to that effect. In that respect I guess they were different from the normal rules in existence at that time. My instructions from CINCLANTFLT, particularly Admiral Beakley, Chief of Staff, was 106

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis to make sure no one had a chance to attack us. . . . I would have fired on any Cuban planes approaching the Task force and so instructed my people. For some reason people feel we did not have this authority. I can assure you we would have fired [on] and intercepted any plane inbound for the Task Force. One cannot afford to take any chances in such a situation. One must realize the speed of an engagement of that type and [that] one doesn't have a chance to do much but to make sure everyone in the Force knew not to hesitate or ask for any instructions on the matter. . .. The Komar patrol boats were the biggest danger at night and I couldn't let anyone get into missile range because of this. If a Komar had a Styx missile aboard, I certainly wasn't going to delay destroying it. 87 Vice Admiral H a y w a r d h a d a m p l e a u t h o r i t y u n d e r Navy p e a c e t i m e rules of e n g a g e m e n t to take the actions he describes. The Kennedy a d m i n i s t r a t i o n revealed certain aspects of U.S. Navy rules of e n g a g e m e n t for C u b a n forces. When asked d u r i n g the b a c k g r o u n d briefing he gave on October 22 if a C u b a n a t t a c k on a U.S. ship would be considered an act of w a r , M c N a m a r a responded: " W e will consider an attack by C u b a n a i r c r a f t a n d / o r ship against o u r a i r c r a f t o r vessels w a r r a n t s a t t a c k by us of the Cuban ship o r a i r c r a f t . . . . The a t t a c k by a C u b a n a i r c r a f t on one of o u r a i r c r a f t o r on one of o u r ships w a r r a n t s , I think, fire in r e t u r n , directed to destroying t h a t p a r t i c u l a r a i r c r a f t o r s h i p . " 8 8 Cuba w a s thus f o r e w a r n e d against a t t a c k i n g U.S. vessels. The Kennedy a d m i n i s t r a t i o n also l a u n c h e d a study of the rules of e n g a g e m e n t t h a t would be a p p r o p r i a t e should fighting e r u p t at sea. On October 23, a Planning S u b c o m m i t t e e was formed to closely e x a m i n e p a r t i c u l a r issues for the EXCOMM. One of the subjects of p l a n n i n g f r o m October 24 o n w a r d w a s " r u l e s of e n g a g e m e n t for a p r o t r a c t e d w a r at sea." The D e p a r t m e n t of Defense a n d JCS were tasked to study the issue; they in t u r n delegated the study to the Navy. 8 9 This study a p p a r e n t l y w a s p r o m p t e d by a p p r e h e n s i o n that the Soviets might try to b r e a k the blockade. The rules of e n g a g e m e n t over which the White House exercised the closest control w e r e those for engaging Cuban a i r defenses. The issue w a s the m a n n e r in w h i c h U.S. forces would r e s p o n d to Soviet SA-2 SAMs firing on high-altitude p h o t o g r a p h i c reconnaissance flights or Cuban a n t i - a i r c r a f t guns firing on low-altitude flights. Under p e a c e t i m e rules of e n g a g e m e n t , use of force against military forces on foreign soil w a s defined as retaliation, r a t h e r t h a n an act 107

The J 962 Cuban Missile Crisis of self-defense, and could only be authorized by the President. However, reconnaissance flights over hostile territory were not a normal peacetime mission, and the peacetime rules of engagement did not address threats to such flights. The JCS therefore pressed for authority to attack SAM or anti-aircraft gun sites that fired on U.S. reconnaissance planes. 9 0 On October 23, the President approved a policy for retaliation against attacks on U-2 flights: The President will be informed through SAC/DOD channels, and it is expected that if there is clear indication that the incident is the result of hostile action, the recommendation will be for immediate retaliation upon the most likely surface-to-air site involved in the action. The President delegated authority for decision on this point to the Secretary of Defense under the following conditions: (1) that the President himself should be unavailable; (2) that evidence of hostile Cuban action should be very clear. 1 " The President thus retained tight control over retaliatory strikes against Cuban air defenses, rather than authorizing such strikes under the rules of engagement. The issue of defending high- and low-level photographic reconnaissance flights became critical on October 27, when a Soviet SAM downed a U-2 and Cuban guns fired on Navy Corsairs (none were hit). Although both incidents clearly met the criteria for retaliation, the President decided not to retaliate against Cuban air defenses. He and McNamara were a w a r e of the danger that this could result in more U.S. planes being shot down. The President's rationale in not ordering retaliation was to give Khrushchev an opportunity to respond to the letter the United States sent that day proposing a solution to the crisis. 92 The President's decision was probably one of the most important of the entire crisis: Khrushchev did accept the President's offer and there were no f u r t h e r attacks on U.S. planes.

NAVAL

OPERATIONS

The q u a r a n t i n e on shipments of offensive missiles to Cuba w a s the most important and visible naval operation conducted during the Cuban Missile Crisis, but it was far from being the only naval operation of the crisis. Other operations included anti-submarine 108

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis warfare, defense of Guantanamo Naval Base, low-altitude photographic reconnaissance, patrol around Cuba, preparations for air strikes against and invasion of Cuba, combined Latin AmericanUnited States quarantine force operations, air defense of the United States, and special operations against Cuba. Only the operations that generated tactical-level interaction with Soviet vessels or submarines— the quarantine and antisubmarine warfare—will be addressed in this study. The option of blockading Cuba had been considered by the Kennedy administration for some time prior to the discovery of Soviet offensive missiles on the island. After the 1961 Berlin Crisis, the President had directed the JCS to prepare contingency plans to blockade Cuba in retaliation for a Soviet blockade of Berlin—an example of the "lateral escalation" strategy. A blockade was called for in OPLANs 314-61 and 316-62, but contingency plans had not been prepared prior to the Cuban arms buildup. As that buildup gained m o m e n t u m in the summer of 1962, Navy planners were directed to prepare plans for a total blockade of Cuba. On October 3, CINCLANTFLT issued a contingency plan (OPORD 41-62) for a total blockade of Cuba. 9 3 Thus, by early October, contingency plans existed for a total blockade of Cuba. Blockading Cuba was discussed in the first meetings President Kennedy held with his advisers on October 16 to discuss the Soviet missiles in Cuba. General Taylor first mentioned blockading Cuba that morning in conjunction with air strikes against Soviet missile sites. 94 After that meeting, McNamara passed to the Joint Chiefs a list of twelve questions concerning requirements for various military options. Four of the seven options included a naval blockade of Cuba, and the Joint Chiefs dismissed as unsound the three options that did not include a naval blockade. 95 In the afternoon meeting with the President, McNamara proposed a "search and seizure" blockade as a separate option: "A second course of action we haven't discussed but lies in between the military course we began discussing a moment ago and the political course of action . . . would involve declaration of open surveillance; a statement that we would immediately impose . . . a blockade against offensive weapons entering Cuba in the future; . . ," 9 6 Initially, there was little support for a limited blockade by itself. Most EXCOMM members and the JCS preferred the air strike option and believed that a limited blockade would not be sufficient to force Khrushchev to remove the missiles already in Cuba. On 109

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Thursday, October 18, opinion in the EXCOMM began shifting in favor of a limited blockade. On the morning of October 20, the EXCOMM slightly favored the blockade option over the air strike option, but the Joint Chiefs still advocated large-scale air strikes. The President made an initial decision in favor of the limited blockade option on Saturday afternoon, October 20. After a final review of the air strike option with Air Force leaders Sunday morning. President Kennedy decided to impose a search and seizure blockade on offensive arms to Cuba. The quarantine was intended by the President to serve primarily as a political signal of U.S. resolve that the Soviet missiles must be removed. A quarantine was selected over other military options to minimize risk of escalation and to gain removal of the missiles without bloodshed. 9 7 Navy planning for a limited blockade of Cuba began Thursday evening, October 18, in response to a m e m o r a n d u m from Deputy Secretary of Defense Gilpatric to the JCS requesting information on the blockade option. On Friday afternoon, October 19, the JCS met with Gilpatric to answer his questions and designated Admiral Anderson its executive agent for CINCLANT operations against Cuba. That evening, Secretary of Defense McNamara directed the CNO to prepare plans for a limited blockade on offensive arms to Cuba. The operational planning was delegated to Admiral Dennison and his staff in Norfolk, but certain policy issues, such as detailed intercept and boarding procedures and the rules of engagement, were handled by the CNO's staff. Saturday morning, October 20, McNamara directed the CNO to prepare "position and policy papers, scenario, and implementing instructions" for a limited blockade. Saturday afternoon Admiral Dennison and Vice Admiral Ward prepared a plan for blockade operations. The CNO, assisted by Admiral Dennison and Vice Admiral Ward, presented the detailed Navy plan for the blockade to McNamara and the JCS Saturday afternoon. McNamara and General Taylor took the plans to the White House for the Saturday afternoon meeting, in which the President initially approved the limited blockade option. The CNO briefed the President and his advisers on Navy plans for the limited blockade on Sunday, October 21, and McNamara approved the JCS directive for a limited blockade that evening. The JCS directive was transmitted to CINCLANT on Monday morning, October 22. 98 The Blockade Force, Task Force 136 (TF 136) commanded by Vice Admiral Ward, consisted of three Task Groups. The Surface 1 10

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Group (TG 136.1), commanded by Rear Admiral John W. Ailes III, comprises two cruisers escorted by four destroyers, and twelve destroyers on the quarantine line. The ASW Group (TG 136.2), commanded by Rear Admiral Ernest E. Christiansen, included the USS Essex (CVS 9) and six destroyers. The Underway Replenishment Group (TG 136.3), commanded by Captain W.O. Spears, comprised three oilers and an ammunition ship escorted by four destroyers. 99 Task Force 81 and Task Force 83, both commanded by Vice Admiral Edmund B. Taylor, Commander Anti-Submarine Warfare Force Atlantic, participated in the search for Soviet bloc ships en route to Cuba. Twelve land-based patrol plane squadrons in Task Force 81 (about one hundred forty aircraft) participated in the quarantine. Task Force 83 consisted of three ASW HUK Groups (three ASW carriers, about one hundred twenty planes and helicopters, and twenty destroyers) and approximately twenty-four destroyers and destroyer escorts in Atlantic and Caribbean picket stations. 100 The quarantine line, designated "Walnut," initially was established on an arc 500 nautical miles from Cape Maisi, the eastern tip of Cuba. The cruisers operated independently of the quarantine line: USS Newport News toward the south end of the line (northeast of Puerto Rico), and USS Canberra toward the north end of the line (northeast of Nassau). The USS Essex HUK group operated east of the center of the quarantine line. 101 The evidence now available establishes conclusively that the quarantine line was established on October 24 on an arc 500 nautical miles from Cape Maisi and was not moved closer to Cuba until October 30.102 The 500 nautical mile distance from Cuba was decided upon by October 20 in order to keep Navy ships outside the range of Cuban aircraft. 103 Robert Kennedy recounted that on the evening of October 23, President Kennedy directed McNamara to move the quarantine line closer to Cuba in order to give the Soviets more time to react before the first ships were intercepted. 104 Graham T. Allison contends that "the blockade was not moved as the President ordered." 1 0 5 Allison portrays this incident as an example of organizational processes constraining the President's ability to effectively control crisis military operations. 106 Available sources do not allow reconstruction of exactly what the President said to McNamara concerning the quarantine line on 11 1

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis the evening of October 23, but support the following explanation much better than alternative interpretations. 1 0 7 President Kennedy did not order the q u a r a n t i n e line moved in, but directed McN a m a r a to delay the initial boarding of Soviet ships and suggested that moving the q u a r a n t i n e line closer to Cuba would be a means of achieving that objective. McNamara consulted with the CNO, w h o recommended that the q u a r a n t i n e line be left at 500 nautical miles until the extent of the threat from Cuban aircraft could be determined. 1 0 8 McNamara concurred with this recommendation, specifying that no Soviet bloc ships were to be boarded until they reached the 500 nautical mile arc, and the President approved this plan. 1 0 9 The key to this explanation is that U.S. Navy ships had originally been authorized to intercept Soviet ships outside the 5 0 0 mile arc on which the q u a r a n t i n e stations were established. The 500 nautical-mile arc did not restrict the movements of the quarantine ships. 1 1 0 Admiral Dennison states that " t h e line wasn't necessarily static. We didn't just sit there. We knew where these ships were and went out to intercept them." 1 1 1 This is significant because the Navy appears not to have d r a w n a distinction between intercept and boarding when the President called McNamara the evening of October 23. President Kennedy therefore had grounds for believing that Soviet ships would be boarded well beyond the 500 nautical-mile arc. The orders that were probably given on October 23 allowed Soviet ships to be intercepted and trailed outside the q u a r a n t i n e line, but specified that Soviet ships were not to be stopped and boarded until they reached the 500 nautical-mile arc. This would have met both the President's objective of providing Khrushchev more time to react and the CNO's objective of keeping q u a r a n t i n e ships beyond the range of Cuban planes. When the President announced the q u a r a n t i n e on October 22, the U.S. Navy already had a complete list of Soviet bloc ships en route to Cuba. On October 23, there were twenty-five Soviet and two other Soviet bloc ships en route to Cuba, including nineteen Soviet freighters and six Soviet tankers. Eighteen Soviet bloc ships were in Cuban ports. Of the nineteen Soviet freighters, three (Okhotsk, Orenburg, and Poltava) were large hatch ships suspected of carrying offensive missiles, two were carrying suspected missiles or missile-related equipment on deck, and eleven others were suspected of carrying other military e q u i p m e n t — a total of sixteen freighters suspected of carrying military cargo. 1 1 2 112

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Operational procedures for the quarantine w e r e specified in C I N C L A N T F L T O P O R D 45-62. The following excerpts from O P O R D 4 5 - 6 2 w e r e the central guidance for intercept and boarding of ships: All ships, including combatant, surface and subsurface, Soviet and non-Soviet, designated by C I N C L A N T F L T on [the] basis of available information will be intercepted. Ships not so designated are not to be interfered with. If C I N C L A N T F L T believes the intercepted ship may be carrying prohibited material to Cuba, C I N C L A N T F L T will order a visit and search to be made to verify the belief. Ships which after being intercepted signal their intention to proceed to non-Cuban ports may be released without visit or search. The Commander of the intercepting ship may prescribe courses for the intercepted ship to follow. Surveillance will be maintained over such intercepted ships. Any ship which fails to proceed as elected or directed, or which attempts to proceed to a Cuban port, will be stopped and boarded. If a satisfactory explanation is not forthcoming, the ship will be diverted to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, or to a port designated by C I N C L A N T F L T . Any ship which is determined by the Commander of the intercepting ship to be carrying no prohibited material shall be permitted to proceed to Cuba. Visit and search of a stopped ship shall consist of examining the manifest and inspecting the cargo. In the event visit is refused, the ship may be taken into custody. A boarding party shall be placed on board. Forceful boarding and control of the ship's operation may be necessary. If boarding meets with organized resistance, the ship will be destroyed. Ships believed to be carrying prohibited material shall be directed to proceed to such non-Cuban port as her owners or master may elect. The commander of the intercepting ship may designate courses to be followed. Surveillance shall be maintained over the intercepted ships. Any ship which fails to proceed to a non-Cuban port will be handled IAW para 2 above. If a ship is visited but search is refused, the Commander of the intercepting ship will take the intercepted ship into custody if he has reasonable grounds for suspecting that it is carrying prohibited material. It will be diverted to a U.S. port for disposition."'' The first Soviet ships w e r e to be stopped and boarded as soon as the quarantine went into effect at 10:00 A.M. on October 24. T h e U S S Essex was assigned to board Gagarin, a suspected arms carrier. T h e U S S Newport News was assigned to board Poltava, a large 1 13

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis hatch ship suspected of carrying missiles and nuclear warheads. The Kimovsk, another suspected a r m s carrier, was also targeted for boarding. CINCLANT had recommended and the President had approved boarding these ships because they would be the first suspected a r m s carriers to reach the quarantine line." 4 As of Tuesday, October 23, nine Soviet merchant ships had been close enough to the quarantine line that they might have been stopped a n d boarded the first day of the quarantine. By Wednesday morning, however, all of the Soviet ships en route to Cuba, including tankers and freighters carrying nonmilitary cargo, had already stopped or turned back. Moscow had HF radio links with its merchant fleet and used them to control the ships en route to C u b a . " 5 According to the October 25 daily CIA report, "The course changes of those ships which have turned back were executed around noon EDT [Eastern Daylight Time] on 23 October. . . . The ships turned around well before President Kennedy signed the proclamation establishing a quarantine zone around C u b a . " " 6 The Soviets thus made a decision not to challenge the quarantine even while publicly declaring their refusal to recognize i t . " 7 There was a pattern to the movements of the Soviet ships. All of the freighters that the United States suspected of carrying weapons or equipment on the prohibited list were immediately ordered to reverse course and return to the Soviet Union. Soviet ships suspected of carrying military cargo other than offensive weapons initially halted and waited, then turned back as Moscow decided not to let any military cargo be inspected by the Americans. Soviet ships carrying nonmilitary cargo, including tankers, initially halted— some of t h e m sitting motionless for two days—then proceeded on to C u b a . " 8 This delay resulted in no Soviet ships passing through the quarantine line until October 25. Late Tuesday and early Wednesday, the United States began receiving indications that Soviet shipping to Cuba had been ordered to halt. The information was solid enough to pass on to the President at about 10:00 A.M. Wednesday." 9 When the President received this report, he ordered that no Soviet ships were to be boarded for at least an hour while further information on their movements was collected. 120 Later, when it was confirmed that the Soviet ships had halted or turned back, the order went out to the q u a r a n t i n e force: "Do not stop and board. Keep under surveillance. Make continuous reports." 1 2 1 By midafternoon, the President could clearly see that Khrushchev was not going to challenge the quar1 14

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis antine. From midday Wednesday onward, the White House closely controlled which ships were to be stopped and boarded. Navy c o m m a n d e r s were not permitted to order a ship of any nationality boarded on their own authority. 1 2 2 A misconception has arisen concerning the m a n n e r in which the q u a r a n t i n e was controlled. Allison claims that the White House circumvented the chain of c o m m a n d and that "local c o m m a n d e r s received repeated orders about the details of their military operations directly from political leaders." 1 2 3 In reality, neither the President nor the Secretary of Defense ever gave orders directly to Navy c o m m a n d e r s at sea. Presidential orders were relayed via McN a m a r a to General Taylor or Admiral Anderson, then from the CNO to CINCLANT, and finally from CINCLANT (acting as CINCLANTFLT) to Admiral Ward. 1 2 4 The White House never used the HF/SSB radios in the Situation Room to give orders directly to ships at sea. 125 Admiral Dennison and Vice Admiral Ward controlled the intercept and trailing of Soviet bloc ships and routine movements of the q u a r a n t i n e force. Commanding officers of quarantine force ships report that their operations were not closely controlled and that they had adequate authority to operate their ships as they felt best. Captain Irvine, Commanding Officer of USS Canberra, states that detailed control was exercised only when "contact occurred (or would be likely to occur) between U.S. and Soviet units (military or merchant)." 1 2 6 Thus, the White House controlled only which ships would be boarded and when they would be boarded, and exercised control through the Navy chain of command. Neither the President nor his advisers directly controlled how boardings were to be conducted. CINCLANTFLT specified that the boarding procedures provided in the Navy publication Law of Naval Warfare (NWIP 10-2) would be used. 127 The Quarantine Force thus used s t a n d a r d Navy procedures, modified for peacetime application, r a t h e r than special procedures drafted in the White House. The boarding of the Soviet-chartered Lebanese freighter Marucla on October 26 illustrates how boarding operations were controlled. The decision to board Marucla was made by the President and passed down the chain of c o m m a n d to Admiral Ward, who ordered USS John R. Pierce and USS Joseph P. Kennedy to " S t o p and board [at] first light tomorrow." 1 2 8 Captain Mikhalevsky confirmed that the visit and search procedure used was that contained in NWIP 10-2. USS John R. Pierce provided real-time reports on the prog1 15

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis ress of the boarding to Admiral Ward and CINCLANT on the HB/ SSB voice radio net, which was being monitored in Flag Plot and the White House Situation Room. Captain Foust states he received no guidance from higher authority on how to conduct the boarding while it was in progress. Admiral Ward and CINCLANT occasionally asked questions, but Flag Plot and the Situation Room were silent. 129 Thus, on-scene c o m m a n d e r s were allowed to conduct the boarding of Marticla at their own discretion in accordance with Navy NWIP 10-2 and CINCLANTFLT OPORD 4 5 - 6 2 . The r e m a i n d e r of the operations conducting during the quarantine were uneventful. Several ships were intercepted and trailed, but no other ships were stopped and boarded at sea. When Khrushchev on October 28 agreed to remove Soviet offensive missiles from Cuba, the President suspended the boarding of Soviet ships. Accordingly, CINCLANTFLT sent the following order that day: Direct no rpt [repeat] no forceful action against any shipping including boarding until further orders. All challenges will be made by visual means (blinking light, etc.) If any difficulties encountered report to me immediately info [notify for information] JCS/CNO prior [to] taking any further action. 130 On October 28, the Joint Chiefs directed CINCLANT to extend the northern end of quarantine line Walnut by adding a second arc 500 nautical miles from Havana. This was done so that the area patrolled by the q u a r a n t i n e force would match the "CLEARCERT" area announced by the State Department the previous day. The extended q u a r a n t i n e line required two additional destroyer patrol stations. 1 3 1 On October 30, after it was determined that their was little threat of Cuban Air attack, the q u a r a n t i n e line was moved closer to Cuba. The new line, code n a m e d "Chestnut," was located just outside the B a h a m a s Island Chain, about 280 nautical miles from Cuba at its closest point, and remained in effect until the q u a r a n t i n e was lifted on November 21. 132 Intercept and trailing of Soviet bloc ships en route to Cuba continued into November. The most important operation was the inspection of Soviet ships removing MRBMs from Cuba. The United States had insisted upon inspections to verify removal of the missiles, but Castro refused to allow inspections on Cuban soil. A compromise was reached on November 7, when the United States agreed to inspect the missiles on the decks of Soviet ships. The nine Soviet ships carrying missiles from Cuba were inspected between 116

The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis November 8 and November 11, and all forty-two missiles known to be in Cuba were counted. In early December, Navy ships and planes verified the removal of Soviet IL-28 bombers from Cuba. 1 3 3 There were no serious incidents between U.S. Navy ships or planes and Soviet merchant ships. Relations at sea between the superpowers were proper and usually amicable. Gifts were exchanged at least once. The Soviets twice filed protests against Navy actions: A Navy patrol plane's searchlight alarmed a Soviet captain who thought he was u n d e r attack, and USS Blandy (DD 943) was accused of threatening the Soviet ship Dvinogorsk while inspecting the MRBMs on its deck. 134 There were no naval incidents that had an impact on the President's ability to manage the crisis. The second area of naval operations in which tactical-level interactions occurred with Soviet forces was U.S. Navy anti-submarine warfare operations against Soviet submarines. Admiral Anderson has stated that "the presence of Russian submarines in Caribbean and Atlantic waters provided perhaps the first opportunity since World War II for our anti-submarine warfare forces to exercise at their trade, to perfect their skills, and to manifest their capability to detect and follow s u b m a r i n e s of another nation." 1 3 5 The Navy began detecting signs of increased Soviet s u b m a r i n e activity in the Atlantic as early as October 13, and began increasing the readiness of its ASW forces. On October 17, the Soviet s u b m a rine replenishment ship Terek was spotted in the North Atlantic headed southwest and placed under daily surveillance by Navy patrol planes. On October 22, a Soviet Zulu-class diesel-electric attack s u b m a r i n e (armed only with torpedoes) was photographed on the surface refueling from Terek near the Azores. This s u b m a r i n e was at the end of its patrol and returned to the Soviet Union, thus playing no role in the crisis. On October 24, CINCLANFLT advised Admiral Ward that at least three known Soviet submarines were operating in the Atlantic and could reach the q u a r a n t i n e zone in a few days. 1 3 6 On October 24, seventeen ASW patrol planes and ten s u b m a rines were tasked to establish the "Argentia Sub-Air Barrier" in the North Atlantic. The ASW barriers went into effect October 27, on a southeasterly bearing from Argentia, Newfoundland, and r e m a i n e d in operation through November 13. No Soviet submarines were detected a t t e m p t i n g to penetrate the barrier. Ships and aircraft of TF 136 (the Quarantine Force) and TF 135 (the Attack Carrier Force), Royal Canadian Navy ships and aircraft, Air Force recon1 17

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis naissance aircraft, and Air Force bombers on airborne alert over the Atlantic also participated in ASW operations. 1 1 7 The Navy located and trailed five confirmed Soviet submarines during the crisis: C-18 (Side number 945) first detected at 3:29 P.M. on October 24 in the Atlantic east of Bermuda; C-19 (Side number painted out), first detected at 6:11 P.M. on October 25 in the Atlantic east of Bermuda; C-20/C-26 (Side number 911), first detected at 6:48 A.M. on October 26 in the Atlantic east of Bermuda; C-21, first detected at 5:05 P.M. on October 26 in the Caribbean east of Cuba; and C-23, first detected at 3:08 P.M. on October 26 in the Caribbean south of Cuba. All five of these contacts were identified as Foxtrotclass diesel-electric attack submarines (armed only with torpedoes, not cruise or ballistic missiles). No Soviet nuclear-powered submarines or Soviet submarines armed with ballistic or cruise missiles were detected in the Western Atlantic during the crisis. For a contact to be evaluated as confirmed, it either had to be photographed or sighted by several observers well trained in submarine recognition. 1 3 8 About thirteen to twenty additional contacts, depending on who is making the judgment, were considered to be "probable" Soviet submarines, but could not meet the strict visual identification criteria necessary to be confirmed (even though several of them were "sighted.)" 1 3 9 For the Soviets to have had a total of eighteen to twenty-four submarines in the Caribbean and Western Atlantic would have been an incredible and extremely unlikely feat. All but one or two of the probable contacts can be dismissed as additional detections of the confirmed submarines or very realistic false contacts. Only the five confirmed contacts will be discussed further. President Kennedy and his advisers were deeply concerned about Soviet submarines from their first meetings after Soviet offensive missiles were discovered in Cuba. They appear to have had three concerns. First, they were concerned that submarines would be used to bring nuclear warheads into Cuba for the Soviet missiles. President Kennedy raised this issue during the October 16 morning meeting with his advisers. That afternoon, Robert Kennedy cautioned that the United States might be forced to sink Soviet submarines to maintain a blockade of Cuba. The CIA estimate prepared as of October 20 also warned that submarines could bring nuclear warheads into Cuba. 1 4 0 The second concern was that the Soviets would establish a submarine base in Cuba. There had been concern before the crisis that 118

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis a fishing port being built by the Soviets at Mariel would be used as a s u b m a r i n e base. This was a m a j o r concern for the CNO. Admiral Anderson has stated that "I had taken a particular determination that we were not going to let any Soviet submarines get in and start operating out of bases in Cuba." 1 4 1 The third concern was that Soviet submarines would attack Quarantine Force ships or ships standing by for air strikes and invasion of Cuba. 1 4 2 This was not just a Navy concern; the President a n d M c N a m a r a were also concerned about the Soviet submarine threat. M c N a m a r a stated in 1988: We did know that we were putting U.S. servicemen at risk, and that there were Soviet subs near the quarantine line. We discussed what to do if submarine came into the area near our surface ships, and we issued guidelines that said they should be monitored and that incidents should be avoided if possible, though obviously our ships had to be able to protect themselves; for that reason, they were authorized to force the Soviet subs to surface." 143 Khrushchev exacerbated these concerns October 24 when he warned American businessman William Knox that Soviet submarines would sink any American ship that forced a Soviet ship to stop. 1 4 4 In response to concerns that Soviet submarines might bring nuclear warheads into Cuba or start operating out of Cuban bases, the Kennedy administration included Soviet submarines in the quarantine. Although the President did not state this explicitly in his October 22 speech, he did state that the quarantine covered "all ships of any kind," and would be extended, if needed, to other types of carriers—implying aircraft and submarines. Similarly, the Quarantine Proclamation signed by the President on October 23 stated that "any vessel or c r a f t " could be stopped and searched. 1 4 5 On October 24, Assistant Secretary of Defense Arthur Sylvester stated during a news conference that submarines forced to surface by U.S. q u a r a n t i n e forces would be boarded, and that "action will be taken to interdict" any s u b m a r i n e that did not surface when signaled to do so. 146 CINCLANTFLT OPORD 45-62, which was based on JCS guidance reviewed by the President and approved by McNamara, explicitly included submarines in the quarantine. CINCLANTFLT directed that "all ships, including combatant, surface and subsurface, Soviet and non-Soviet, designated by CINCLANTFLT on 1 19

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis [the] basis of available information will be intercepted." 1 4 7 Thus, Soviet submarines were an explicit target of the quarantine, and could be stopped and searched if proceeding to Cuba. The greatest difficulty in enforcing a quarantine against submarines is signaling them to surface for identification and search. The CINCLANTFLT operation order did not include specific signals for use with submarines, but did include procedures if a ship or submarine failed to stop after being signaled: "If these means fail, warning shots shall be fired across the bow, or, in case of submarines, equivalent warning action."14* CINCLANTFLT did not, however, state what constituted an equivalent warning action for submarines. The JCS, Secretary of Defense, and President had been briefed on Navy ASW operations and procedures prior to the quarantine going into effect. 149 During the evening EXCOMM meeting on October 23, President Kennedy was briefed on intelligence that Soviet submarines were moving toward the Caribbean. In response, according to Robert Kennedy, "The President ordered the Navy to give highest priority to tracking the submarines and to put into effect the greatest possible safety measures to protect our own aircraft carriers and other vessels." 150 An encounter between U.S. Navy ASW forces and Soviet submarines was now likely. McNamara, aware that the President had just directed a maxim u m ASW effort, was concerned that lack of a standard means of signaling Soviet submarines to surface could lead to weapons unnecessarily being used against a Soviet submarine. After the evening EXCOMM meeting on October 23, he went to the CNO's office to discuss the problem. Admiral Anderson was in a JCS meeting, but his Deputy for fleet operations, Vice Admiral Griffin, was available. McNamara asked Vice Admiral Griffin how Navy ships could signal a Soviet submarine to surface. McNamara knew from previous ASW briefings that this was not a normal peacetime procedure for the Navy. Vice Admiral Griffin consulted with the CINCLANTFLT staff on the problem and together they devised a unique set of signals that could be used to signal Soviet submarines to surface. 151 McNamara immediately approved the special signals. The special "Submarine Surfacing and Identification Procedures" were transmitted to the fleet five hours before the quarantine went into effect on October 24. 152 The next day they were broadcast to the world, including the Soviet Union, in a Notice to 120

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Mariners, the s t a n d a r d message used by all n a t i o n s to send w a r n ings of navigation h a z a r d s : Pursuant to Proclamation of the President of Oct. 23rd, 1962 on the "Interdiction of the Delivery of Offensive Weapons to Cuba" the Secretary of Defense has today issued the following submarine surfacing and identification procedures when in contact with U.S. quarantine forces in the general vicinity of Cuba. U.S. forces coming in contact with unidentified submerged submarines will make the following signals to inform the submarine that he may surface in order to identify himself: Signals follow—quarantine forces will drop 4 or 5 harmless explosive sound signals which may be accompanied by the international code signal "IDKCA" meaning "rise to surface." This sonar signal is normally made on underwater communications equipment in the 8 kc frequency range. Procedure on receipt of signal: Submerged submarines, on hearing this signal, should surface on easterly course. Signals and procedures employed are harmless. 1 5 3 These signals w e r e not a n o r m a l p a r t of p e a c e t i m e Navy ASW procedures; they were c r e a t e d specifically for the q u a r a n t i n e of Cuba. The Navy h a d p r o c e d u r e s for signaling unidentified submerged s u b m a r i n e s , b u t their only p u r p o s e w a s to d e t e r m i n e if a contact w a s a U.S. s u b m a r i n e . M c N a m a r a t h u s tailored Navy ASW procedures to meet the President's political objectives. There w a s no s t a n d a r d i n t e r n a t i o n a l signal, such as "IDKCA," for s u b m a r i n e s to surface. 1 5 4 Soviet s u b m a r i n e s would have h a d no idea w h a t "IDKCA" m e a n t unless their g o v e r n m e n t informed t h e m . The Soviets thus h a d to m a k e a deliberate decision w h e t h e r to inform their s u b m a r i n e s of the signal. To ensure t h a t the Soviets u n d e r s t o o d the intent of this Notice, Assistant Secretary of Defense A r t h u r Sylvester told r e p o r t e r s on October 24 that " a c t i o n will be taken to i n t e r d i c t " any s u b m a r i n e that did not surface w h e n o r d e r e d , a n d the next day a "Defense D e p a r t m e n t s p o k e s m a n " told the press t h a t "should a s u b m a r i n e refuse to cooperate, it w o u l d be subject to the s a m e orders a p p l i e d to other vessels, calling for the ' m i n i m u m a m o u n t of force necess a r y ' — s i n k i n g if n e c e s s a r y — t o require the vessel to p e r m i t itself to be searched." I:>5 This s t a t e m e n t gives the essence of the guidance provided by CINCLANTFLT to the Q u a r a n t i n e Force, a n d the President had in h a n d contingency o r d e r s for the Navy to destroy Soviet s u b m a r i n e s if they a t t e m p t e d to interfere with the q u a r a n tine. 1 5 6 121

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis President Kennedy apparently used Navy ASW operations as an additional means of demonstrating American resolve and applying coercive pressure on the Soviets. Robert Kennedy alludes to this, suggesting that the President "increased the pressure" on Khrushchev by ordering the Navy to harass Soviet submarines. 157 Admiral Anderson has made statements that support those made by Robert Kennedy. In 1973, he stated that ASW operations were "of immense psychological significance to emphasize to the USSR that any confrontation with the U.S. was in an area where the U.S. had undoubted naval supremacy." 158 In 1987, Admiral Anderson made a more explicit reference to the issue: "It did not particularly create any problems for the Navy that McNamara wanted to send political signals with anti-submarine warfare operations, carefully measured, with limitations on action and diplomatic intentions." IS9 However, none of the other participants in the crisis have reported deliberate use of ASW as a political signal, and there are no discussions of this topic in available records of EXCOMM meetings.160 Political signaling was not the primary purpose of the ASW operations and ASW operations were not among the primary means of signaling the Soviets. Rather, ASW operations were used to reinforce political signals being sent primarily by the quarantine, Strategic Air Command alert, and invasion preparations. The President and McNamara did not attempt to modify Navy ASW procedures other than with the special surfacing signals. Navy officers who participated in ASW operations during the crisis report that, other than the special signals, they used normal peacetime ASW procedures. 161 This was not a lapse on McNamara's part: The Navy's peacetime ASW procedures were relatively safe. The special surfacing signal was a more aggressive measure than Navy ships were normally allowed to take in peacetime. The one other difference from normal peacetime operations was that shore-based and carrier-based ASW aircraft carried live MK-43 ASW homing torpedoes.162 This action was consistent with the level of DEFCON in effect during the crisis (DEFCON 3) and prevailing concerns over the Soviet submarine threat. The President did not attempt to exercise direct control over ASW operations. Navy officers who participated in ASW operations during the crisis report that they did not experience close highlevel control of their operations. 163 On the other hand, because operational reports were being made to CINCLANTFLT on the HF/ SSB voice net, the White House could monitor the progress of ASW 122

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis

operations. In his oral history, Admiral Ward describes reporting a submarine contact to the White House, and being told not to take offensive action against it. 164 Thus, the CNO, Secretary of Defense, or President could have intervened if tracking a Soviet submarine started getting out of hand. The special "Submarine Surfacing and Identification Procedures" were used several times during the crisis. The special signals were used on at least two of the five confirmed Soviet submarines (C-19 and C-21), and may have been used on two others (C-18 and C-20/26).165 Both the Morse code signal "IDKCA" and the explosive charge signal were used. Every time the explosive charge signal was sent by ASW aircraft, they dropped MK 64 practice depth charges (PDCs). PDCs were small explosive charges routinely used by the Navy in peacetime for an echo ranging technique known as "Julie" and for signaling U.S. submarines in ASW exercises. Navy patrol planes and HUK groups had been tracking Soviet submarines for years in the Atlantic, so Soviet captains knew what PDCs sounded like. 166 Every time the explosive charge signal was sent by surface ships, they dropped hand grenades. 167 Thus, contrary to what the organizational process model would predict, the Navy readily adapted to a civilian-inspired modification to its ASW procedures. 168 The results achieved with the "Submarine Surfacing and Identification Procedures" were mixed. Submerged Soviet submarines essentially ignored the sonar and explosive charge signals. There were no reported instances of a Soviet submarine immediately surfacing upon hearing the signals. Soviet submarines surfaced because they needed to replenish air and batteries, or because they had some kind of mechanical problem. On the other hand, the Soviet submarines did not react to the signals with other than their normal efforts at evasion. The Soviet submarines attempted to evade being tracked, sometimes successfully, but their efforts were sporadic. 169 There are indications that the Soviet government may have directed its submarines to comply with the U.S. "Submarine Surfacing and Identification Procedures." At least three of the contacts surfaced on an easterly heading, as specified in the U.S. Notice to Mariners. Although this suggests that the Soviet submarines were directed to comply with the U.S. instructions, it is not conclusive: the three submarines had been on an easterly heading before surfacing anyway. There are no clear cases of Soviet submarines mak123

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis ing a large course change specifically to surface on an easterly heading. What is more revealing is the fact that they surfaced at all. Normally, a s u b m a r i n e need only expose its snorkel to recharge its batteries and replenish its air. It was unusual, and striking to experienced ASW operators, that all five of the Soviet submarines fully surfaced, sometimes repeatedly, rather than just snorkeling. This led some Navy officers to conclude that submarines were ordered to surface and identify themselves if challenged by the U.S. Navy. 170 The Soviet government thus appears to have directed its submarines to comply with the U.S. instructions. It was unusual for five Soviet submarines to be in or near the Caribbean — the normal n u m b e r was two or three. 1 7 1 Two of the confirmed Soviet submarines (C-21 and C-23) operated in the Caribbean. These two Soviet s u b m a r i n e s appear to have been on routine patrols. One of them (C-21) was operating near Guantana m o — a strategic location for monitoring U.S. Navy movements— when first detected. The other three confirmed Soviet submarines (C-18, C-19, and C-20/26) operated in the Atlantic east and northeast of the Bahamas. They were detected moving toward the quarantine zone shortly before the q u a r a n t i n e went into effect. Although these three submarines are often described as escorting the Soviet merchant ships carrying offensive a r m s to Cuba, their locations and movements were unrelated to those of the merchant ships. 172 The CINCLANT report makes an important observation on the three contacts in the Atlantic: "Shortly after their discovery the submarines began a return to the Russian Northern Fleet bases." 1 7 3 Navy officers who tracked these three contacts confirm that the Soviet submarines were all headed away from the Caribbean, eastward or northeastward into the Atlantic. 1 7 4 Given that these submarines were all discovered between October 24 and October 26, it appears that the Soviet government ordered them to reverse course and return home on October 24 or October 25. If this is correct, the Soviets could well have decided to recall their submarines as early as October 23 — the same day they ordered their merchant ships to halt or return home. Greater time delays would have been experienced in getting the recall order out to submerged submarines, which had to expose a radio mast above the surface in order to receive messages. 1 7 5 The most likely scenario is that the Soviets decided to recall their submarines on October 25, after the United States revealed its " S u b m a r i n e Surfacing and Identification Proce124

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis

dures" and warned that force would be used against submarines that failed to comply. However, the possibility cannot be dismissed that the Soviets decided to recall their submarines on October 23 or 24, perhaps in response to a private warning from the United States. There were no significant incidents between U.S. Navy ASW forces and Soviet submarines during the Cuban Missile Crisis. In accordance with peacetime Navy ASW procedures, when Soviet submarines surfaced, they were politely asked, "Do you require assistance?" Some of the submarines were also asked to identify themselves (two responded), but none were ordered to stop for boarding. 176 Navy ships and planes practiced ASW tactics while tracking submerged Soviet submarines. 177 This is routine in peacetime ASW operations, so the Soviet captains would have experienced it previously while being tracked in the Atlantic. This posed little danger to the Soviet submarines (the greater danger was that Navy ships or aircraft might collide with each other). Significantly, the Soviets, who were quick to protest U.S. actions that appeared to threaten their merchant ships, did not file any protests against U.S. ASW operations. It is unlikely that the Soviets would not have protested a serious incident involving one of their submarines. A search of available Navy records and questioning of Navy officers involved in the ASW operations indicates that no torpedoes or full-size (lethal) depth charges were dropped on Soviet submarines. 178 This confirms that Elie Abel was correct when he stated that "at no time were weapons fired." 179 Thus, there do not appear to have been any instances of Navy ships or ASW aircraft using live ordnance against Soviet submarines. A possible source of confusion was that not all of the Navy commanders at sea received the message containing the "Submarine Surfacing and Identification Procedures." 180 Because destroyers were frequently shifted among the various Task Groups, it would have been possible for a destroyer Commanding Officer to know about the special signals while his Task Group Commander did not. 181 On one occasion during the tracking of a confirmed contact (C-19), the Destroyer Division Commander in charge of the operation, apparently frustrated by the Soviet submarine's refusal to surface in response to the special signals, requested permission to drop full-size (lethal) depth charges at a distance from the submarine as an even stronger signal to surface. This request was denied by the Task Group Commander. 182 The preponderance of 125

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis evidence—including the absence of Soviet protests—is that there were no deliberate or accidental weapons incidents.. There was a remote possibility that the explosive charge signals could damage a submarine. Captain Lassell, the Destroyer Division Commander at Key West, Florida (then home of the Navy's leading ASW training and tactics development center), maintains that "a PDC could not damage a submarine even if it were in contact with the hull." 183 This is a reasonable assessment, given that the Navy routinely used PDCs against its own submarines. Nevertheless, it is conceivable that a PDC detonating directly against an already weak point in a submarine's hull could exacerbate existing damage, causing a minor leak, or could damage the submarine's rudder or diving planes. T w o of the Soviet submarines that surfaced during the crisis (C18 and C-20/26) remained on surface for an extended period. In both cases, crewmen were observed on deck making repairs to hatches or the hull.184 The explosive charge signal was never used in the tracking of contact C-20/26, so that submarine's problem was not due to PDCs. Captain Rozier suggests that the submarine may have had a hatch that would not seal properly and that the crew apparently was able to repair the hatch.185 The other Soviet submarine (C-18) suffered more serious damage: It was unable to submerge after it surfaced and eventually was taken in tow. Captain Wissman speculated that the submarine may have been damaged by a PDC, but the Soviets never filed a protest and Admiral Dennison attributed the casualty to some sort of machinery failure. 186 However, the possibility cannot be dismissed that this Soviet submarine was damaged by a PDC. These findings challenge the prevailing view of Navy ASW operations during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Commenting on Robert Kennedy's description of the Wednesday morning EXCOMM meeting in which the President was informed of a submarine near the quarantine line, Allison makes the following assertion: "What neither the President nor his colleagues knew, however, was that prior to the experience through which they were living, American destroyers had encountered Soviet submarines—according to the Navy's standard operating procedures. McNamara discovered this during the course of his Wednesday evening visit to the Flag Plot." 187 This contains several errors. First, the President had been informed the previous day (October 23) that Soviet submarines were moving into the area and had directed the Navy to launch a maximum 126

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis ASW effort. Second, the President was told during the Wednesday morning EXCOMM meeting that USS Essex had been tasked to track the Soviet submarine. Third, the first positive contact between Navy ASW units and a Soviet submarine did not occur until 3:29 P.M. Wednesday, well after the morning EXCOMM meeting. Fourth, the Navy was not just following standard operating procedures— Soviet submarines had been explicitly included in the quarantine by guidance reviewed by the President and approved by McNamara. Finally, McNamara knew about Navy ASW operations before he visited Flag Plot Wednesday evening (October 24). What he learned during that visit was that a destroyer from the Essex HUK Group was tracking a Soviet submarine (C-18), an action authorized under the operations orders approved by McNamara. John Steinbruner alleges that the President and his top advisers were unaware of Navy ASW operations until "well into the crisis," that Navy ASW operations threatened to upset the strategic balance by targeting Soviet cruise missile-armed submarines, and thus "constituted extremely strong coercion and violated the spirit of the Executive Committee policy." 188 Steinbruner is wrong for several reasons. First, the President and McNamara knew by at least October 21 that the Navy would be pursuing Soviet submarines in support of the quarantine and shared Navy concern that Soviet submarines might attack Navy quarantine ships. To ensure that Navy ASW operations supported the President's political goals, McNamara directed the Navy to use specialized ASW procedures (the submarine surfacing signals) not authorized in peacetime. 1 8 9 Second, McNamara undoubtedly and the President probably knew about Navy ASW operations in the Atlantic outside the quarantine area. The Argentia ASW barrier, ordered on October 24 and established on October 27, was displayed on the charts in Flag Plot and would have been seen by McNamara during his daily briefings. Third, no Soviet ballistic or cruise missile submarines were tracked anywhere in the Western Atlantic. 1 9 0 The only submarines tracked by the Navy in the Atlantic during the crisis were the three Foxtrotclass torpedo-armed attack submarines that entered the quarantine area, and no Soviet submarines were detected by the Argentia ASW Barrier. The three Foxtrots in the Atlantic and two Foxtrots in the Caribbean never made an effort to loiter near U.S. ports, so probably were not on strategic deterrence patrols even if they were armed with nuclear torpedoes. Fourth, the Navy conducted its 127

The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis ASW operations essentially in the manner that the President desired: The special surfacing signals were used as specified by McNamara and force was not used against Soviet submarines. Navy ASW operations thus did not violate "the spirit of Executive Committee policy," but rather supported the President s crisis management strategy.

FINDINGS This section will review the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis to answer the eight research questions. The first question is to what degree were interactions between the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis the result of actions taken in accordance with mechanisms of indirect control, rather than direct control by national leaders? The Kennedy administration was clearly concerned about the danger of an incident with Soviet ships or submarines. The President and McNamara retained authority over certain crucial decisions, particularly retaliation against Cuban air defenses and the boarding of ships. Other than this, however, they exercised control by negation, rather than positive control, over Navy operations. The President could monitor operations at sea on HF/SSB radio in the White House Situation Room, and therefore could intervene if he felt an encounter was getting out of hand. Presidential orders were passed via the chain of command, and neither the President nor McNamara gave orders directly to ships at sea. The second question is were the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis tightly coupled with each other? The overall answer is yes, but the coupling was not as tight as might be expected given the seriousness of the crisis. The tightest coupling was between U.S. Navy ASW forces and Soviet submarines, followed closely by coupling between the quarantine force and Soviet merchant ships. In both cases, Khrushchev's decision not to challenge the quarantine dampened the interactions between the two sides. The third question is were the forces of the two sides being used by their national leaders as a political instrument in the crisis? President Kennedy clearly used U.S. forces to convey political signals to Khrushchev during the crisis. The President and McNamara actively sought out ways to reinforce the signals being sent to the Soviets, such as by modifying Navy ASW procedures to support the political objectives of the quarantine. Khrushchev may have used 128

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis military forces for political signaling, but did not do so as clearly as President Kennedy. Khrushchev was probably avoiding signals of hostile intent by recalling freighters carrying a r m s and recalling the three submarines in the Atlantic. Shooting down an American U-2 over Cuba on October 27 certainly sent the wrong signal to the United States, but this action may not have been authorized in the Kremlin. Cuba placed its armed forces on alert and fired on U.S. low-level reconnaissance planes, but otherwise avoided provocatory actions during the crisis. All three participants in the crisis thus appear to have used their military forces for political signaling. The answers to the first three questions indicate that conditions necessary for stratified interaction were present in the Cuban Missile Crisis. Although the President sought to maintain close control of military operations, he relied heavily on methods of delegated control, and communications problems constrained his ability to effectively exercise direct control. In some operations there was tight coupling between the forces of the two sides. Both sides used their forces as a political instrument under conditions of acute crisis. Interactions occurred at the tactical level that were not directly controlled by American leaders. The stratified interaction model offers a good description of Soviet-American interaction in the Cuban Missile Crisis. The fourth question is did crisis interactions at the tactical level become decoupled from the strategy being pursued by national leaders? Despite the vast scale of U.S. operations and the intensity of tactical-level interactions, there were no serious instances of decoupling involving naval forces. 191 The most prominent potential cause of decoupling was communications problems. Communications problems did not cause serious decoupling because only a very small portion of U.S. forces were in contact with adversary forces and because attention had been paid to the guidance contained mechanisms of indirect control. The second potential cause of decoupling, a fast-paced tactical environment, was not a serious problem during the crisis. ASW operations are slow-paced, providing ample opportunity for disengagement. The intercept and boarding of merchant ships also takes place at a leisurely pace and is relatively easy to control. Opening with operations that are inherently slow-paced was a key factor in the success of the President's crisis management efforts. President Kennedy and McNamara also successfully avoided three of the 129

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis other potential causes of decoupling: ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, and inappropriate guidance in mechanisms of indirect control. The final potential cause of decoupling, unauthorized actions by military commanders, did not occur during the crisis. Thus, the various potential causes of decoupling either were not present during the crisis, or did not have a serious adverse effect on the President's ability to manage the crisis. The fifth question is did national leaders and on-scene commanders hold different perceptions of the vulnerability of on-scene forces to preemption and the need to strike first in the event of an armed clash? The primary area in which there appear to have been stratified threat perceptions was in the area of ASW: Navy commanders at sea were more concerned about the Soviet submarine threat than were senior military and civilian leaders in Washington. However, the differences were not extreme and the President and McNamara were also concerned about the Soviet submarine threat. The other area in which threat perceptions were stratified was the Cuban air and naval threat to U.S. Navy ships. Navy commanders were particularly concerned about the threat from Cuban missile boats, but there is little mention of this threat in available EXCOMM records. The sixth question is, when tactical-level interactions become decoupled, what factors inhibit escalation at the tactical level and prevent it from being transmitted to the strategic and political levels of interaction? The Cuban Missile Crisis does not help to answer this question because there were no instances of decoupled interaction sequences. The decoupling that did occur was minor and did not generate sustained interaction sequences beyond presidential control. President Kennedy's decision to open with relatively slow-paced naval operations, Khrushchev's early decision not to challenge the quarantine, and Castro's decision not to provoke the United States were the factors that determined the nature of the tactical-level interactions. There was immediate disengagement in the one instance that weapons were fired at U.S. Navy units: When Cuban anti-aircraft guns fired at Navy reconnaissance jets on October 27, the unarmed Navy planes simply left the area. In effect, then, escalation was avoided by the tactical environment having been structured in such a manner as to prevent clashes from occurring in the first place. This was what President Kennedy had in mind when he selected the quarantine over other military 130

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis options, but the outcome was the result of decisions made in Moscow and Havana as well as in Washington. The seventh question is were the political signals sent with military forces misperceived by adversaries or allies, or did inadvertent military incidents occur that affected crisis management efforts? There were two instances of U.S. naval forces sending inadvertent signals of hostility: The first was when a Soviet merchant ship captain mistook a Navy patrol plane's high-powered strobe light for an attack on his ship, and the second was a Soviet merchant ship captain's complaint that he had been threatened by a destroyer inspecting MRBMs on his deck. Although the Soviet government filed protests over these incidents, it did not interpret them as deliberate indications of hostile intent on the part of the United States. There was only one inadvertent military incident serious enough to have affected the President's efforts to manage the crisis: the Air Force U-2 that strayed over the Soviet Union on October 27. This annoyed Khrushchev, who protested the incident to President Kennedy, but it did not have a major impact on the crisis. There were no serious inadvertent military incidents involving naval forces. The U-2 incident and Soviet protests of incidents involving their merchant ships illustrate how communications between the two sides were used to prevent incidents from giving rise to misperceptions and escalating. Military moves were not the only means of signaling intentions available to President Kennedy; he had several other channels for delivering formal and informal messages to Khrushchev. 192 Because Kennedy and Khrushchev were exchanging communications frequently during the crisis, they could wait, send a protest, and assess the implications of an incident, rather than immediately reacting to it. But these communications were not perfect. The United States appears not to have asked for or received an explanation for the shooting down of a U-2 on October 27. This was an important incident that caused apprehensions concerning Khrushchev's motives and willingness to resolve the crisis peacefully—yet its implications remained ambiguous. Nevertheless, the availability of formal and informal communications channels between the two superpowers appears to have moderated the use of military forces for political signaling by allowing diplomatic rather than military responses to incidents. The eighth question is did any of the three tensions between political and military considerations arise during the crisis? Ten131

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis sions between political considerations and military considerations primarily arose from the f u n d a m e n t a l decision to impose a quarantine on offensive a r m s rather than immediately launch an air strike against the Soviet missile sites or invade Cuba. The JCS never wavered from its advocacy of the air strike option. There was also concern that the President's strategy of applying military force in graduated increments would increase the difficulty of carrying out the air strike or invasion options by losing the tactical and strategic advantage of surprise. 1 9 3 Tensions also arose between the military consideration of protecting U.S. forces against a sudden attack bv Cuban or Soviet forces, a n d the political consideration of avoiding military moves that appeared to threaten an immediate effort to achieve a military solution to the crisis. Captain Carmichael, who observed the crisis intimately f r o m his post in Flag Plot, states that "friction was generated when the military considered it prudent to take precautionary measures, assuming that the Soviets would shoot if the point of no return was reached." 1 9 4 The tension this generated has been explained by Eliot A. Cohen: The events of October 1962 created considerable tension between military men seeking to protect those under their command, in the event of an outbreak of war, and politicians seeking to give the other side time to think and give in. Had men in fact died as a result, had ships sunk or airplanes fallen by the score, the crisis in civil-military relations would have taken a more dramatic turn, one in which, I suspect, civilian leaders would have accommodated commanders far more than they actually did. 195 This captures the essence of the problem, but must be qualified by three observations. First, the military was concerned with protecting its men in the event of any outbreak of fighting, no m a t t e r how small, not just in the event of w a r . Second, civilian leaders accommodated military c o m m a n d e r s to a much greater degree than past accounts have acknowledged. The rules of engagement issued for the q u a r a n t i n e were not significantly different from normal peacetime rules and normally did not infringe upon a c o m m a n d e r ' s right of self-defense. Third, records of EXCOMM meetings reveal that President Kennedy and Secretary M c N a m a r a were sympathetic to the military's concern with protecting its men. 1 9 6 McNamara argued the military perspective forcefully after a U-2 was shot down on October 27, contending that further attacks on U.S. planes were 132

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis likely and that it would be necessary to destroy the Cuban air defense system if this happened. 1 9 7 The President and McNamara understood the implications of their interventions in military operations and weighed potential military costs against the political objectives they sought. Tensions arose between performance of crisis missions and readiness to perform wartime missions. In mid-October, only days before Soviet offensive missiles were discovered in Cuba, a JCS study concluded that execution of CINCLANT contingency plans for the invasion of Cuba would have the following consequences: a. Preclude simultaneous, (D-5 to D + 2), reinforcement of either CINCEUR [Commander in Chief U.S. Forces Europe] or CINCPAC using troop carrier or MATS [Military Air Transport Service] aircraft. b. Inhibit for 5 to 7 days capability for conduct of Berlin airlift contingency plans by withdrawing all C-130 aircraft from EUCOM [U.S. European Command]. c. Make inadequate for reinforcement of CINCEUR the available logistic support units for filling the port package [equipment and supplies delivered by ship]. d. Deplete critical logistic support units of Army forces remaining in CONUS [Continental U.S.].198 During the crisis, the forces called for in the CINCLANT contingency plans for invasion of Cuba, plus additional forces added to the plans at the last moment, were mobilized and began preparations for invasion. Preparations for invasion of Cuba degraded the ability of the United States to respond to Soviet moves in Europe, particularly against Berlin. The only reason that this did not generate severe tensions was that the political-military situation in other theaters was relatively quiet. Military men were not overly concerned about the negative consequences of the preparations for invasion of Cuba because there was no immediate need for the forces elsewhere. 199 This situation would have changed drastically if the Soviets had moved against Berlin or Turkey in response to a U.S. move against Cuba, which justifies the President's concern for such a Soviet move. 200 Tension between the need for top-level control of military operations and the need for on-scene flexibility and initiative was the most severe political-military tension during the crisis. President Kennedy was gravely concerned about the danger of losing control of events and was determined that the crisis must not build a 133

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis m o m e n t u m of its own toward war. The President was particularly concerned that use of force might touch off escalation at the conventional level, possibly leading to nuclear escalation. On the other hand, there does not a p p e a r to have been serious concern that the President would lose control over the military. Despite the tense relationship he had with Admiral Anderson, M c N a m a r a is emphatic that there was no danger of losing control over the military. 2 0 1 The naval q u a r a n t i n e was intended by the President to serve primarily as a political signal, to d e m o n s t r a t e U.S. resolve that the Soviet missiles must be removed. The q u a r a n t i n e was selected over other military options to minimize the risk of escalation and gain removal of the missiles without bloodshed. 2 0 2 The primarily political objectives of the q u a r a n t i n e led to top-level civilian authorities paying close attention to the details of naval operations to ensure that those operations supported the President's political objectives. The Cuban Missile Crisis thus marked a turning point in American civil-military relations and in the evolution of U.S. c o m m a n d and control doctrine. Vice Admiral Houser described the significance of the crisis: "It was the m a j o r turning point from the World War II type of operations to modern operations. It was a watershed. During World War II and the Korean War there was military comm a n d only, no control. But after Cuba civilians would exercise both c o m m a n d and control." 2 0 3 Vice Admiral Caldwell made the same point when asked the most important lesson of the crisis: "That in the nuclear age the civilian leadership will quickly and actively intervene in a military operation of any seriousness. We did not u n d e r s t a n d this prior to the crisis, but a f t e r w a r d began to structure the Command/Control system to accommodate this process." 2 0 4 The origin of the tension was an a t t e m p t to impose radically new methods of direct control on a c o m m a n d system set up for delegated control, without prior planning, consideration of the implications, or consultation with the military. The Navy, with its tradition of granting autonomy to comm a n d e r s at sea, reacted strongly to President Kennedy's efforts at closely controlling military operations. Admiral Griffin has described the crux of the problem: " W h a t we wanted was to get clear orders as to what was wanted. Then we could carry out those orders. M c N a m a r a wanted to know in detail how each function was to be accomplished. It was not a very good situation." 2 0 5 Admiral Anderson, at the interface between civilian authorities and 134

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis the Navy chain of command, took the lead in preventing what he perceived to be unreasonable civilian interference in naval operations. On October 23, the CNO, after learning that the White House rather than the Quarantine Force Commander would decide which ships were to be boarded, sent McNamara a memorandum stating that "from now on I do not intend to interfere with Dennison or either of the admirals on the scene." 2 0 6 This reflected Admiral Anderson's determination to "prevent any intrusion by McNamara or anybody else in the direct operations of any ship or squadron or anything of the sort." 2 0 7 It was thus a clash between the President's desire to exercise detailed control over military operations and the Navy's desire to operate on the basis of its traditional philosophy of command, in which commanders at sea are delegated substantial authority. Most senior Navy officers resented the new civilian attention to the details of naval operations, which they viewed as "micromanagement." Admiral Anderson, whose relationship with McNamara was strained, stated: "I just resent the involvement of these lower level—well, some of them are high-level, the Secretary of Defense —civilian staff officers getting involved in military affairs." 208 When asked his most prominent memory of the crisis, Admiral Sharp replied, "Robert McNamara dashing into Flag Plot and demanding instant action that was often not possible. For example, wanting ships to be at certain places at a time when their max speed would not permit. He was unreasonable." 2 0 9 Vice Admiral Riley questioned McNamara s competence to control military operations: "How could any civilian, no matter how successful he might have been in his line of business before he got appointed Secretary of Defense, have the competence to do this? The answer is that he didn't. He didn't have that competence." 2 1 0 This reflects a widespread military attitude that McNamara did not have the experience necessary to effectively control military operations. Arthur M. Schlesinger contends that because the Joint Chiefs were largely isolated from the President during the crisis, they felt estranged from the President and were therefore suspicious of the administration's judgment. He concludes that greater military participation in decisionmaking would have prevented this: My hunch is that if they'd been present at the ExComm meetings, they would have stopped suspecting the President of being overly averse to the military and they would have had to concern themselves more with the political and diplomatic dimensions of the 135

The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis problem, possibly with a moderating effect on their views. One of the most significant aspects of our "team" in this was, except for Taylor, who thought of himself as one of the Chiefs, no one else who was a part of this collegial group was responsible for any military planning. That probably explains a very large part of their estrangement." 2 " Schlesinger's view is supported by senior naval officers who participated in the crisis. Admiral Anderson and Admiral Griffin both state that the Joint Chiefs were not kept adequately informed of the negotiations with the Soviets; Vice Admiral Houser and Captain Carmichel believe that the Chiefs did not understand the President's political strategy or the escalation concerns of civilian leaders. 212 This was probably a significant cause of the civil-military tensions that arose during the crisis. The a d m i r a l s at sea directly controlling the q u a r a n t i n e did not feel unreasonably burdened by civilian authorities and understood the need for close control. Admiral Dennison, referring to President Kennedy, stated that "he was perfectly marvelous and I never got a call from the White House during the entire operation. He let me alone." 2 1 3 The Admiral's only complaint was about officials in Washington a t t e m p t i n g to use his already overloaded radio circuits. Admiral Ward describes well the reasons for close civilian control of the quarantine: We were not there to sink ships or shoot anyone. Our mission was to accomplish a political objective. . . . Everything we did had political impact. If we had sunk a Soviet ship, we would have started World War III. We could have. Everything that we did we reported directly by voice telephone [HF/SSB radio], sometimes through a scrambler, to the Pentagon, which was monitored also in the White House war room. For the first time we asked instructions on whether or not we should stop a Soviet ship known to be headed our way and the decision was made at the political level because it was a political decision rather than a military one. 214 Similarly, Admiral Rivero, Amphibious Force C o m m a n d e r during the crisis, supported the close civilian control: "Very tight control of the Quarantine Force was probably appropriate since only the people in the White House and the EXCOMM knew the meaning of the signals being exchanged between Kennedy and Khrushchev. But this was an exceptional situation, more political than military in nature." 2 1 5 136

The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Much of the friction and anger visible in Washington was generated by McNamara's personality, management style, and personal attitudes, rather than by the underlying policy conflicts. This largely explains the infamous argument between McNamara and Admiral Anderson the evening of October 24. Their clash arose over the question of how closely operations at sea were to be controlled. Admiral Anderson had thrown down the gauntlet the previous day with his m e m o r a n d u m to McNamara stating there would be no more interference with the commanders at sea. McNamara had spent the day in a tense EXCOMM meeting, and had been tasked by the President to closely monitor the quarantine operations. Under such circumstances, a clash between these two strong-willed men was to be expected. However, their argument reveals much more about discordant personalities clashing under the stress of a crisis than it does about organizational processes. As has been shown, workable command arrangements were worked out and the Navy conducted its operations in a manner supportive of the President's crisis management strategy. In summary, the stratified interaction model accurately describes Soviet-American interaction during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Despite the scale of U.S. military and naval operations and the intensity of tactical-level interactions at sea, there were no serious instances of decoupled interactions involving naval forces. The pattern was one of parallel stratified interactions: tactical level interactions not directly controlled by political leaders, but supporting their strategy for resolving the crisis.

137

FIVE

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War

The Third Arab-Israeli War erupted in June 1967 when Israel, after weeks of increasing tensions and provocative Arab military moves, launched preemptive attacks on Egypt, Jordan, and Syria. The United States sought to remain officially neutral in the conflict and to avert Soviet intervention on behalf of the Arab nations. The U.S. Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean Sea was used to deter Soviet intervention in the conflict. The one major incident involving the U.S. Navy during the crisis was the Israeli attack on the USS Liberty (AGTR 5).

BACKGROUND Egyptian, Syrian, and Jordanian military moves in the spring of 1967 appeared to confirm Israeli fears of imminent attack, prompting Israel to preempt. 1 Israel struck early on 5 June with devastating air strikes on Egyptian air fields, followed later in the day by attacks on Syrian, Jordanian and Iraqi air fields. Israeli army units invaded the Sinai the morning of 5 June, reaching the Suez canal three days later. Israel attacked Jordan on 5 June, occupying all of Jerusalem and the West Bank in two days. Action on the Syrian front was limited to artillery duels and three small Syrian probes. By the morning of June 8, Egyptian defenses in the Sinai had collapsed and Jordan had been knocked out of the war. On June 9, Israel attacked Syria in the Golan Heights despite Syrian acceptance of the U.N. ceasefire resolution. The next day, the sixth day of the war, Israel achieved the last of its military objectives against Syria and the fighting stopped. 2 138

The 1967 Arab-Israeli

POLITICAL-STRATEGIC

War

CONTEXT

Preoccupied with the war in Vietnam, the Johnson Administration was slow to react to the rapidly increasing tensions in the Middle East. In late May and early June, the United States had attempted to organize an international naval force to contest the Egyptian blockade of the Gulf of Aqaba, as part of its political efforts to avert an Israeli decision for war. 3 U.S. objectives in the crisis were to limit the scope the fighting in the Middle East and quickly bring it to a halt, to prevent the Soviet Union from intervening militarily on behalf of the Arab nations or increasing its influence among them at the expense of the United States, and to avoid alienating the Arab world. 4 The U.S. strategy during the Six Day War was to act through the UN Security Council to achieve an early cease-fire, to pressure Israel to accept the cease-fire and limit its military objectives, and to prevent Soviet military intervention through deterrent military moves and diplomacy. The United States attempted to portray a neutral stance without officially declaring itself to be neutral. U.S. diplomatic efforts favored Israel, but were not a grant of unlimited support. The United States supported the UN cease-fire resolution, called on Israel to adhere to it, and tried to prevent an Israeli attack on Syria. 5 President Johnson used the Soviet-American "hot line" to communicate with Soviet leaders during the crisis. 6 American efforts were primarily political and diplomatic, and military forces had only a small role. Soviet objectives in the crisis were to prevent its clients in the Middle East from suffering catastrophic defeat and to expand its influence among Arab nations at the expense of the United States. As it became apparent that Israel was scoring a major triumph, the Soviet objective shifted to limiting the extent of Arab defeats and reducing the potential erosion of Soviet prestige and influence in the Middle East. 7 The Soviet strategy during the war was to provide strong diplomatic support for the Arab nations. When war broke out the Soviet government immediately condemned Israeli "aggression" and demanded that Israeli forces withdraw from Arab territory as a condition for a cease-fire. As the extent of the Arab losses became apparent, however, the Soviets dropped the withdrawal demand and supported an unconditional immediate ceasefire in order to 139

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War forestall further Arab defeats. Soviet public pronouncements remained solidly pro-Arab throughout the crisis. 8 Soviet military actions included reinforcing their Mediterranean squadron, shadowing Western aircraft carriers, mounting an airlift and sealift to resupply the Arabs, and threatening direct military intervention in the Middle East. The Soviet role thus consisted primarily of diplomatic activity, backed by low-level signaling with military forces. 9

COMMAND AND

CONTROL

By 1967, the defense reorganization of 1958 had taken firm hold and the military chain of command ran from the President, to the Secretary of Defense, to the unified and specified commanders. The JCS no longer used the executive agent system. The unified commander responsible for Europe and the Mediterranean was U.S. Commander in Chief Europe (USCINCEUR), General Lyman L. Lemnitzer, U.S. Army, commander of U.S. forces in the European Command (EUCOM). The Navy component commander under USCINCEUR was Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe (CINCUSNAVEUR), Admiral John S. McCain, Jr., headquartered in London. Because CINCUSNAVEUR was a Navy command as well as a component of the unified command, Admiral McCain reported administratively directly to the CNO, Admiral David L. McDonald, as well as operationally to General Lemnitzer. The most important command under CINCUSNAVEUR concerned with operations in the Mediterranean was the Sixth Fleet. Commander Sixth Fleet (COMSIXTHFLT) was Vice Admiral William I. Martin, embarked in USS Little Rock (CLG 4). The Sixth Fleet consisted of several Task Forces, the most important of which was the Carrier Strike Force (Task Force 60). In the spring of 1967, TF 60 was commanded by Rear Admiral Laurence R. Geis, embarked in USS America (CVA 66), and consisted of two Task Groups. Task Group 60.1 consisted of the USS America and six escorting destroyers. Task Group 60.2 consisted of the USS Saratoga (CVA 60), the cruiser USS Galveston (CLG 3), and four destroyers. The other Sixth Fleet Task Force that had a role in the crisis was the Amphibious Force (Task Force 61), consisting of an amphibious ready group with an embarked Marine battalion landing team (BLT), some 1,800 troops. 140

The 1967 Arab-Israeli

War

U.S. communications capabilities in 1967 had improved over 1962, but still did not enable the President to directly control ships at sea. The primary communications links to the Sixth Fleet were the fleet HF radioteletype broadcast and other HF channels from communications stations around the Mediterranean. Satellite communications had been introduced into the fleet on an experimental basis in 1963 and various prototype systems were being tested, but the Sixth Fleet was still relying on HF communications. The Sixth Fleet had HF/SSB voice radio communications with local communications stations and shore-based headquarters in southern Europe, but had no capability to speak directly with Washington. Verbal orders from the White House could be sent to USCINCEUR via phone lines, but then had to be relayed to the Sixth Fleet via radioteletype. 10 The White House sought to control the movements of the Sixth Fleet for political signaling, using the chain of command to transmit orders to the Sixth Fleet. President Johnson and McNamara did not attempt to give orders directly to ships at sea." The White House Situation Room was unable to monitor Sixth Fleet operations real-time. The President and McNamara had to await verbal reports from USCINCEUR and CINCUSNAVEUR, or receipt of message reports. The only aspect of Sixth Fleet operations that was controlled by the White House was the general location of the Task Forces in the Mediterranean. 12 In addition to the overall effort to signal the U.S. intention to stay out of the conflict, Sixth Fleet movements were used on at least three occasions to send specific political signals to the Soviet Union. However, Sixth Fleet movements generally were not under positive direct control. Rather, geographic limits were placed on on the fleet's movements and control by negation was exercised—Vice Admiral Martin reported his actions up the chain of command, allowing the White House to alter politically inappropriate fleet movements. 13 There appear to have been no instances in which the President countermanded an order given by Vice Admiral Martin. The President and Secretary of Defense did not use the mechanisms of indirect control to issue detailed operational guidance to the Sixth Fleet. USCINCEUR had contingency plans for a wide range of emergencies and hostilities, but no special contingency plans appear to have been issued specifically for the 1967 war. 14 No special mission orders or rules of engagement were issued for the 141

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War crisis. The only special guidance was restrictions on how closely U.S. ships and aircraft could approach the coasts of Israel, Egypt, and Syria. 15 Other than this, the Sixth Fleet was governed by standing CINCUSNAVEUR peacetime rules of engagement. This is not surprising given the short duration of the crisis and the limited scope of the naval operations conducted during the crisis.

NAVAL

OPERATIONS

Soviet naval operations during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War attracted a great deal of attention among Western naval analysts because it marked the first significant employment of the Soviet navy in a crisis. As Anthony Wells observed, "The 1967 June War was a watershed in the evolution of Soviet naval diplomacy. It was the first occasion on which the Soviets utilized significant naval power in Third World coercive diplomacy." 1 6 In early May 1967, the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron was conducting routine operations and was at a normal peacetime strength of some seven warships. In mid-May a naval buildup began; by June 5, the Soviets had a total of thirteen surface combatants in the Mediterranean: one cruiser, two cruise missile-armed destroyers, two SAM-armed destroyers, two destroyers, four frigates and corvettes, and two minesweepers. Two or three Soviet attack submarines were also thought to be in the Mediterranean. 1 7 If the Soviets intended this buildup to serve as a political signal, they succeeded. The New York Times on May 31 quoted "Washington officials" as saying the Soviet ship movements were a "calculated show of force" and reported concern that the presence of the Soviet ships might encourage the Arab states to harden their antiIsraeli stance. 18 As tensions mounted in the Middle East during May and early June of 1967, the Sixth Fleet was discreetly readied for action and maneuvered in support of the President's diplomatic efforts to get Egypt to open the Strait of Tiran and thereby avert war. 1 9 On May 20, Saratoga was moved to the eastern Mediterranean. On May 25, America and the Sixth Fleet flagship, Little Rock, were ordered to join Saratoga in the eastern Mediterranean. 2 0 The carriers rendezvoused north of Crete on May 29. The Sixth Fleet was directed to remain west of a line drawn from eastern Libya to the eastern end of Crete—over two hundred miles from western Egypt, over four 142

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War hundred miles from the Suez Canal, and over six hundred miles from Syria. On May 25, the Sixth Fleet amphibious group (TF 61) was sailed from Naples to Malta for a port visit. The amphibious group was standing by primarily to evacuate U.S. citizens from the Middle East if the need arose, but was also capable of landing the Marines it carried. On May 27, the JCS directed the Sixth Fleet readied for a noncombat deterrence role in the event of war in the Middle East. On May 31, America, accompanied by Little Rock, moved to a position south of Crete, leaving Saratoga north of the island. The two carriers remained in these areas through June 6.21 The Soviet navy closely monitored Sixth Fleet movements on the eve of the crisis. On about May 23, a Soviet intelligence collection ship (AGI) began shadowing Saratoga. On May 28, a Riga-class frigate began trailing America as she moved into the eastern Mediterranean. On June 4, a Kashin-class DDG took over trailing America and remained with the carrier through the start of the war. Two Soviet minesweepers were monitoring the British carrier HMS Victorious at Malta. They were joined by a Kotlin-class destroyer on June 2. The Soviet ships shadowing American carriers were "tattletales," assigned to monitor the carriers' operations and provide targeting data for Soviet anti-carrier forces, particularly strike aircraft. As of June 5, most of the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron was anchored at the Kithira anchorage between Greece and Crete.22 Rear Admiral J. C. Wylie, Deputy Commander in Chief of U.S. Naval Forces Europe during the Six Day War, pointed out that Navy commanders, recognizing that Sixth Fleet movements would send important political signals, placed limitations on the fleet's actions during May and early June: "Thus the move to readiness in the Arab-Israeli mobilization period had three careful signals built into it: no premature departures from scheduled port visits; the deliberate and visible retention of the amphibious forces in the central Mediterranean; and the purposeful retention of American forces south of Crete and well clear of the prospective scene of action." 2 3 When war broke out, the Sixth Fleet remained in the Eastern Mediterranean to deter Soviet intervention, but was kept well clear of the fighting. The Sixth Fleet initially was ordered to remain at least one hundred nautical miles from the Syrian coast, but in fact did not approach closer than about four hundred nautical miles. Carrier aircraft were ordered to remain at least two hundred nautical miles from the Egyptian and Israeli coasts. The carriers were 143

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War placed at an increased condition of readiness, which doubled the n u m b e r of aircraft ready for immediate launch and armed strike aircraft with conventional bombs and missiles. 24 The caution that had marked Sixth Fleet operations prior to the crisis continued after w a r broke out. 2 5 Ship movements were announced and, with the exception of the two carriers, routine port visits and shore liberty continued. 2 6 Seventeen civilian reporters embarked America on May 29. Vice Admiral Engen, Commanding Officer of America during the crisis, stated that "we used the embarked press corps to provide safety from misrepresentation. That was a U.S. tactic." 2 7 The emphasis was on demonstrating U.S. intention to avoid involvement in the fighting. On June 5 and 6, the two U.S. carriers steamed to the southeast. Although the press reported this movement as a deliberate signal to the Soviets, it was, as Howe reports, ordered by the Task Force C o m m a n d e r without prior knowledge of the White House: As it happened, the Sixth Fleet carrier task forces had begun speeding at twenty knots in a southeasterly direction in order to vary their "position while still maintaining a neutral posture with respect to the Arab-Israeli war." The ships were under orders to remain at least 200 miles from the area of conflict, and proceeded to a position 100 miles southeast of Crete. Although this change of position was ordered on the initiative of local commanders, the movement represented a timely underlining of American determination. The White House took advantage of the repositioning as a means of showing the Russians, who were tailing the task forces, that the United States would not be intimidated although it earnestly sought a U.N. solution. 28 This episode illustrates that the White House was not exercising close direct control over the movements of the carriers. The President could have ordered the carriers to reverse course, but the movement supported his political objectives, so was publicized and allowed to continue. On June 6, Egypt claimed that U.S. and British carrier aircraft had assisted Israel in its initial air strikes on Egyptian airfields. The Soviets, whose ships were closely monitoring the Sixth Fleet carriers, knew that U.S. carrier planes could not have participated in the attacks. 2 9 In response to the Arab charge, the two U.S. carriers, then southeast of Crete, were ordered on J u n e 6 to move westward. The U.S. carriers continued moving westward through June 8, reaching a position southwest of Crete. 144

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War On June 7, a suspected Soviet submarine was detected in the vicinity of the America task group and was tracked by U.S. destroyers, ASW helicopters, and patrol planes. This sparked the most severe Soviet harassment of the Sixth Fleet during the crisis. On June 7, a Soviet destroyer trailing the America task group threatened to collide with the destroyer USS Lawe (DD 763) in a nautical version of the game "chicken." This incident appears to have been a response to U.S. tracking of the suspected Soviet submarine near the America task group. In response to the incident, Vice Admiral Martin sent a message to the Soviet destroyer, warning it to clear the U.S. formation. The Soviet ship withdrew, but returned the next morning. On June 8, the America task group experienced the most severe Soviet harassment of the crisis. The destroyer and a corvette maneuvered dangerously close to America, attempting to force the carrier to change course while it was conducting flight operations. The harassment on June 8 appears to have been a defiant response to Vice Admiral Martin's warning to the Soviet destroyer the previous day. 30 The Sixth Fleet had previously experienced serious problems with Soviet surveillance vessels and had sent them warnings to keep clear of U.S. formations. There was great concern among Navy commanders in the Mediterranean that there would be further incidents because the Soviet ships had adopted aggressive shadowing tactics, maneuvering dangerously close to U.S. ships. 31 Vice Admiral Engen, then the Commanding Officer of America, has described the U.S. Navy attitude toward Soviet harassment: We telegraphed intentions to maneuver and then held firm to [the] Rules of the Road. . . . COMSIXTHFLT and CTF 60 [Rear Admiral Geis] were strongly supportive of U.S. C.O.'s in order to keep [the] Soviets from achieving [success with] what were then harassing tactics. . . . [I experienced] frequent Soviet attempts to embarrass USS America by maneuvering to use [the] Rules of the Road to interfere with flight operations. I held firm, and would have run down a Soviet ship if I was right.32 Soviet harassment could well have led to a serious collision with an American warship, increasing naval tensions in the Mediterranean and possibly interfering with efforts to manage the crisis. On June 8, America and Little Rock moved eastward to provide assistance to USS Liberty, under attack off the Sinai coast. America's rendezvous with Liberty the next day marked the closest ap145

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War proach the carriers made to the fighting—a position about one hundred nautical miles north of Alexandria, Egypt. After taking aboard the dead and wounded from Liberty, the carriers moved westward. 33 On June 10, in response to the Soviet threat to take military action against Israel, President Johnson ordered the Sixth Fleet moved closer to Syria. The U.S. carriers steamed to the northeast at full speed. The President also reduced the fleet's minimum distance to the Syrian coast from one hundred to fifty nautical miles. 34 In his memoir. President Johnson makes it clear that this was done as a political signal: We knew that Soviet intelligence ships were electronically monitoring the fleet's every movement. Any change in course or speed would be signaled instantly to Moscow.... We all knew the Russians would get the message as soon as their monitors observed the change in the fleet's pattern. That message, which no translator would need to interpret to the Kremlin leadership, was that the United States was prepared to resist Soviet intrusion into the Middle East.35 This was the most important instance of the Sixth Fleet being used to send a specific political signal, but it may not have had a major impact on the crisis. Israel apparently had no intention of seizing Damascus, and the Soviets made no overt moves to carry out the threat. 36 The most important Soviet naval activity during the crisis was trailing the U.S. carriers in the Mediterranean. America was shadowed by Soviet warships continuously from May 28 to June 14, but neither of the Soviet cruise missile-armed destroyers participated in this shadowing. Saratoga was not shadowed by Soviet warships other than during the May 29-31 period, when she was operating with America. Saratoga was probably trailed by a Soviet intelligence ship (AGI) from May 23 to June 13. The Soviet navy also kept a destroyer and two minesweepers off Malta throughout the war. 37 Although this close surveillance of the Sixth Fleet was conducted primarily for military purposes, it helped to avert misperceptions of the fleet's role in the crisis and greatly increased the value of the U.S. fleet as a political instrument by ensuring that Soviet leaders would quickly detect changes in its operations. Armed surface warships were frequently used as tattletales during the crisis because they had a higher top speed than the intelli146

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War gence ships (AGIs) and therefore were better able to keep up with U.S. carriers. The Soviet destroyers and frigates that were used as tattletales were not heavily armed, so they were not a serious immediate threat to the carriers. In fact, the Soviet combatants that served as tattletales appear to have been selected precisely because they were expendable (the only exceptions were the new Kashin-class destroyers, probably selected because of their speed). Nevertheless, as Anthony Wells points out, use of combatants rather than AGIs as tattletales "expresses increased Soviet interest, both military and political, in the force being shadowed." 3 8 The Soviet tattletales thus served as political signal to the United States, as well as conveying U.S. political signals to the Soviet Union. 39 Tactical-level interaction between U.S. and Soviet naval forces was intense during the crisis. Soviet tattletales closely monitored the Sixth Fleet and U.S. aircraft closely monitored the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron. Tensions at sea were acute on June 7 and 8 during U.S. tracking of a Soviet submarine and Soviet harassment of the America carrier group. Although there were ample opportunities for inadvertent military incidents, no significant incidents occurred. No Egyptian or Syrian vessels or aircraft were encountered during the crisis because the Sixth Fleet was kept well clear of their coasts. 40 The only serious incident of the crisis was the Israeli attack on USS Liberty. USS Liberty was sent to the Eastern Mediterranean in late May 1967 with orders to patrol just outside territorial waters (twelve miles) off the coast of the Sinai Peninsula. COMSIXTHFLT gained control of Liberty shortly before the ship commenced patrol, but did not assign forces to defend her because the United States was neutral in the war and the ship would be in international waters. Just before Liberty commenced patrol, at least five messages were sent increasing the ship's standoff range from the coasts of the belligerents—apparently in response to Arab claims that the U.S. Navy was aiding Israel and warnings from Egypt and Israel that the seas off their coasts were war zones. Due to misrouting, Liberty did not receive these messages. 41 Israeli aircraft spotted Liberty the morning of June 8, identified Liberty as a U.S. Navy ship, and repeatedly flew by the ship throughout the morning. At 2:00 p.m., two Israeli Mirage jet fighters attacked Liberty with rockets and cannon fire, followed by Mystere jet fighters attacking with rockets, napalm, and cannon fire. At 2:35 p.m., three Israeli torpedo boats attacked, launching at least 147

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War five torpedoes, one of which struck Liberty in its intelligence space. The Israeli boats raked the ship with machine gun fire, aiming at topside personnel and life rafts in the water. They broke off the attack at 3:15 P.M. Liberty was severely damaged, thirty-four men were killed, and one hundred seventy-one were wounded. As the torpedo boats retired, two Israeli assault helicopters arrived, but did not attack. An hour later the torpedo boats returned to offer assistance, which was refused by Liberty.*2 Liberty was in communication with the Sixth Fleet and communications stations ashore via high frequency radioteletype and high frequency single sideband voice radio (the COMSIXTHFLT "High Frequency Command Net," commonly referred to as "HICOM"). Liberty apparently was unable to communicate with the Sixth Fleet during the first half hour of the attack due to power outages and damage to radio antennas and transmitters, but after that was able to report directly to the Sixth Fleet's carriers that she was under attack. 43 USS Saratoga, steaming southwest of Crete, first received a voice report from Liberty at about 2:30 p.m., stating "I am under attack. My posit [position] 31-23N, 33-25E. I have been hit. Request immed [immediate] assistance." 44 Saratoga requested authentication of this report (prudent and required, but much to the annoyance of Liberty), then relayed it to Commander Sixth Fleet (COMSIXTHFLT) and Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe (CINCUSNAVEUR). About five minutes later, Saratoga received and immediately relayed a second voice report from Liberty, stating "Three unidentified gunboats approaching, vessels now . . . " 4 5 Liberty did not finish the transmission, probably due to the Israeli attack. At about 2:43 p.m., in the midst of the Israeli torpedo boat attack, Saratoga received and relayed a third voice report from Liberty, stating "Under attack and hit badly." 4 6 At 2:53 p.m., Saratoga received and relayed a fourth voice report from Liberty, stating "Hit by torpedo starboard side. Listing badly. Need assistance immediately." 47 These are the reports on which COMSIXTHFLT and the chain of command up to the President based their initial decisions on how to respond. An important point is that none of these reports give the identity of the attackers. COMSIXTHFLT did not know the identity of the attackers until after he had ordered initial actions in support of Liberty. Vice Admiral Martin, COMSIXTHFLT, acting on his own authority, responded to Liberty's reports that she was under attack by 148

The 1967 Arab-Israeli

War

immediately ordering Saratoga and USS America (CVA 66) to launch aircraft to defend Liberty against further attacks. 48 This order apparently was first given over voice radio at about 2:40 p.m., then followed with a message order at 2:50 p.m.: America launch four armed A-4's to proceed to 31-23N 33-25E to defend USS Liberty who is now under attack by gunboats. Provide fighter cover and tankers. Relieve on station. Saratoga launch four armed A-l's ASAP same mission.49 Commander Task Force 60 (CTF 60), the Carrier Strike Force, later specified that America was to launch four armed F-4s as fighter cover for the attack aircraft. Because the carriers did not have planes on alert to support Liberty, the A-4s and A-Is had to be fueled and armed and their pilots briefed, which would take about an hour. The estimated launch times were 3:45 P.M. for America's A-4s and 4:00 P.M. for Saratoga's A-ls. The first planes were estimated to arrive over Liberty at 5:15 P.M. Vice Admiral Martin also ordered Task Force 60 to close Liberty's position, and ordered two destroyers to rendezvous with Liberty at best speed. COMS I X T H F L T told Liberty over voice radio and via message that help was on the way. 50 The actions that Vice Admiral Martin did not take were as important as those he did take. He did not order attacks on Soviet forces in the Mediterranean or retaliation against Egyptian forces or airfields. The actions he ordered were strictly limited to the defense of Liberty. The rules of engagement he issued were carefully crafted to avoid further incidents. The restraint and prudence shown by Vice Admiral Martin made a substantial contribution to preventing the incident from escalating to a superpower confrontation. At 3:15 p.m., COMSIXTHFLT made an initial voice report to CINCUSNAVEUR and USCINCEUR stating that Liberty was under attack and that he was taking action to defend her. At 3:30 p.m., COMSIXTHFLT sent a message situation report (SITREP) describing in greater detail the actions he had ordered and informing USCINCEUR that he had declared the forces attacking Liberty to be hostile. 51 This illustrates the exercise of delegated authority within the U.S. command system: The on-scene commander initiates action, then immediately informs his superiors of his actions. COMSIXTHFLT informed USCINCEUR of his actions before the planes were launched, allowing USCINCEUR to exercise control 149

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War by negation should it have been necessary. None of Vice Admiral Martin's orders were c o u n t e r m a n d e d by higher authorities. Vice Admiral Martin used his authority to declare a threatening force hostile in response to reports from Liberty that she was under attack. After ordering aircraft launched to defend Liberty, COMSIXTHFLT at 3:39 P.M. sent the following rules of engagement to the carriers: 1. IAW [In accordance with] CINCUSNAVEUR INST [Instruction] P03120.5B forces attacking Liberty are declared hostile. 2. You are authorized to use force including destruction as necessary to control the situation. Do not use more force than required. Do not pursue any unit toward land for reprisal purposes. Purpose of counterattack is to protect Liberty only. 3. Brief all pilots [on the] contents [of] this msg [message]. 4. In addition brief pilots that Egyptian territorial limit [is] only 12 miles and Liberty right on edge. Do not fly between Liberty and shoreline except as required to carry out provisions [of] para [paragraph] 2 above. Brief fighter cover that any attacks on attack aircraft, Liberty, or they themselves is hostile act and para two above applies. 52 In a separate message, COMSIXTHFLT emphasized: "Ensure pilots do not repeat do not fly over l a n d . " 5 3 Vice Admiral Martin thus took precautions to avoid incidents involving the aircraft sent to defend Liberty. Saratoga and America launched their attack aircraft between 3:45 P.M. and 4:00 P.M. At 4:14 p.m., the U.S. Defense Attache Office (DAO) in Tel Aviv sent a message to COMSIXTHFLT and the chain of c o m m a n d reporting that Israel had informed the U.S. Naval Attache of an accidental attack on a U.S. ship off the Sinai. This was the first indication received as to the identity of the attackers. Shortly thereafter, at 4:22 p.m., Liberty reported that she had identified the attackers as Israeli. In response to these reports and a report f r o m Liberty that the attacks had ended, COMSIXTHFLT at abut 4:30 P.M. ordered the attack aircraft recalled. COMSIXTHFLT reported to CINCUSNAVEUR and USCINCEUR at 4:39 P.M. that he had recalled the aircraft sent to defend Liberty,54 Thus, by about 4:30 p.m., the immediate crisis was over and there was little likelihood of f u r t h e r armed clashes involving U.S. forces. Guidance from Washington lagged far behind the pace of events in the eastern Mediterranean. It was not until 4:16 P.M. that JCS 150

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War sent a message authorizing use of force to defend Liberty, and not until 4:46 P.M. that authorization from the Secretary of Defense to use force was received and passed on by USCINCEUR. These messages apparently were sent before Washington learned that Israel was responsible for the attack. Neither of the messages had any impact on actions taken by the Sixth Fleet. The JCS message would have been received by Vice Admiral Martin about the same time he received the DAO Tel Aviv message reporting Israeli responsibility for the attack. Secretary of Defense authorization to use force would have been received by Vice Admiral Martin about fifteen minutes after he ordered recall of the planes sent to defend Liberty. At 5:29 p.m., almost an hour after Vice Admiral Martin had recalled his planes, JCS sent a message rescinding authorization to use force to defend Liberty. Top-level civilian and military officials in Washington thus had no direct role in controlling tactical decisions in the Mediterranean after Liberty was attacked. Vice Admiral Martin acted entirely on his own authority, basing his decisions on CINCUSNAVEUR standing peacetime rules of engagement. In some respects, tensions were greater in Washington than in the Mediterranean during the attack on Liberty. Secretary of Defense M c N a m a r a initially thought that Soviet forces had attacked Liberty: In the case of the Liberty in the Mediterranean in June as an example, I thought the Liberty had been attacked by Soviet forces. Thank goodness, our carrier commanders did not launch immediately against the Soviet forces who were operating in the Mediterranean at the time. I then thought it had been attacked by Egyptian forces. Who else could have done it? Thank goodness, we did not launch against the Egyptians. We took time to find out it was the Israelis. 55 In contrast to M c N a m a r a , the Navy chain of c o m m a n d was confident that the Soviets had not attacked Liberty and took no actions against Soviet naval forces. Vice Admiral Donald D. Engen, Commanding Officer of America in 1967, states that the Sixth Fleet knew the Soviets could not have conducted the attack because there were no Soviet aircraft or naval vessels in the vicinity of Liberty. Rear Admiral Wylie states that there was no concern at CINCUSNAVEUR that the Soviets had conducted the attack, and Admiral Horacio Rivero states that there was no concern on the CNO's staff that the Soviets had conducted the attack. 5 6 The accu151

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War rate picture that on-scene commanders had of the local tactical situation and their compliance with peacetime rules of engagement prevented a clash with Soviet or Egyptian forces. Officials in Washington made an important contribution to preventing the Liberty incident from escalating to a superpower confrontation by notifying the Soviet Union of the attack and the U.S. response to it. In his memoirs, President Johnson describes his use of the "hot line" to inform the Soviets of the attack and that U.S. warplanes had been sent to the scene: There was a possibility that the incident might lead to even greater misfortune, and it was precisely to avoid further confusion and tragedy that I sent a message to Chairman Kosygin on the hot line. I told him exactly what had happened and advised him that carrier aircraft were on their way to the scene to investigate. I wanted him to know, I said, that investigation was the sole purpose of these flights, and I hoped he would inform the proper parties. Kosygin replied that our message had been received and the information had been relayed immediately to the Egyptians. 57 President Johnson somewhat played down the mission of the planes that had been sent to assist Liberty—they were fully a r m e d and h a d been ordered to defend her, rather than just investigate. Portraying their mission as investigation was probably intended to allay Soviet and Egyptian concerns. The President's use of the hot line was important because Sixth Fleet actions in support of Liberty —flying attack planes and fighters into a w a r zone, close to Egyptian territory—could have been misperceived as imminent U.S. intervention in the war.

FINDINGS This section will review the 1967 Arab-Israeli War to answer the eight research questions. The first question is to what degree were interactions between the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis the result of actions taken in accordance with mechanisms of indirect control, r a t h e r than direct control by national leaders? The Johnson administration did not a t t e m p t to exercise direct control over the operations of the Sixth Fleet other than its movem e n t s in the Mediterranean. Nor did the President or M c N a m a r a 152

The 1967 Arab-Israeli

War

make an effort to provide specialized guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, other than limitations on how close the fleet and its aircraft could approach the coasts of the belligerents. There was thus significant delegation of authority to on-scene commanders, and the guidance contained in Navy standing orders and standing rules of engagement played a crucial role in determining the nature of the tactical-level interactions that occurred. The second question is were the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis tightly coupled with each other? Soviet tattletales closely monitored the Sixth Fleet, U.S. aircraft closely monitored the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron, and U.S. ships and planes hunted Soviet submarines. 58 As Anthony Wells points out, "Each navy devoted considerable effort to tracking the other through radar, sonar, electronic intercept, and visual observation." 5 9 Each side reacted to actions taken by the other side. Thus, Soviet and American naval forces were tightly coupled during the crisis. The third question is were the forces of the two sides being used by their national leaders as a political instrument in the crisis? The answer clearly is yes. The Johnson administration used the Sixth Fleet to signal the U.S. intention not to intervene in the crisis, but also used the fleet to warn the Soviets against direct military intervention in the conflict. The Soviet Union conveyed political signals by rapidly building up its Mediterranean squadron, shadowing the Sixth Fleet, and keeping the bulk of the squadron well clear of the fighting and the Sixth Fleet. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War was the first crisis in which both superpowers actively used their navies for political signaling. The answers to these three questions indicate that conditions necessary for stratified interaction existed in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War: The United States relied on methods of delegated control, U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean were tightly coupled, and both sides used their forces as a political instrument under conditions of acute crisis. Interactions occurred at the tactical level that were not directly controlled by American leaders. The stratified interaction model of international crises, in which interactions evolve in separate, semi-independent sequences at the political, strategic, and tactical levels, offers a good description of Soviet-American interactions in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. The fourth question is did crisis interactions at the tactical level become decoupled from the strategy being pursued by national leaders? One of the potential causes of decoupling was prominent 153

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War in the crisis: The U.S. communications system did not permit the President to exercise real-time direct control over the Sixth Fleet. President Johnson's ability to control the Sixth Fleet in 1967 was less than President Kennedy's ability to control the Second Fleet during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. President Johnson had to rely more on c o m m a n d by negation and delegated c o m m a n d than did President Kennedy. Another potential cause of decoupling—a fastpaced tactical e n v i r o n m e n t — w a s also present during some periods of the crisis. The Sixth Fleet reacted to the attack on Liberty hours before it received instructions from Washington. Similarly, the President could not tell Rear Admiral Geis or Captain Engen how to handle the Soviet ships harassing America and her escorts. The other potential causes of d e c o u p l i n g — i m p a i r m e n t of political decisionmaking, ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, inappropriate guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, and deliberate unauthorized actions by military comm a n d e r s — did not have an observable impact on the crisis. The second requirement for establishing that interactions became decoupled during a crisis is that the operational decisions m a d e by tactical-level decisionmakers differed from the decisions that political-level decisionmakers would have made in order to coordinate military operations with their political-diplomatic strategy for resolving the crisis. Divergence between tactical-level military operations and political-level objectives was not a serious problem during the crisis. Although on-scene c o m m a n d e r s were often making operational decisions on their own authority, their decisions generally supported the President's political objectives. For example. Sixth Fleet movements on June 6, taken on the initiative of Rear Admiral Geis, sent the political signal the President wanted to send at that moment even though he had not ordered the movement. Thus, the overall p a t t e r n was that of parallel stratified interactions: interactions the President did not control, but which supported his political objectives. There may have been one instance of tactical-level military operations diverging from political-level objectives: the response of Navy on-scene c o m m a n d e r s to Soviet harassment on June 8. Navy c o m m a n d e r s were determined not to be intimidated by the dangerous maneuvering of the Soviet ships, even at the risk of a collision. The stern warning Vice Admiral Martin sent to the Soviet destroyer and the ensuing game of chicken may not have been the types of actions President Johnson desired for managing tensions with the 154

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War Soviet Union. However, there is no evidence that he disapproved of how the Navy c o m m a n d e r s handled the situation—there were no collisions or shots fired—so even this incident is not a clear case of decoupling. The fifth question is did national leaders and on-scene commanders hold different perceptions of the vulnerability of on-scene forces to preemption and the need to strike first in the event of an armed clash? Threat perceptions were not acute at any level of the chain of c o m m a n d , and there is evidence that officials in Washington were more concerned about the Soviet Navy t h a n were the onscene c o m m a n d e r s . When Liberty was attacked, M c N a m a r a and others in Washington thought that the Soviets might have been responsible, while Navy c o m m a n d e r s in the Mediterranean, w h o were closely monitoring Soviet movements, knew that Soviet forces could not have conducted the attack. If anything. Navy on-scene c o m m a n d e r s perceived the Soviet threat to the Sixth Fleet to be less dangerous than did civilian officials in Washington. Threat perceptions and the security dilemma thus were not stratified during the crisis. The sixth question is, when tactical-level interactions become decoupled, what factors inhibit escalation at the tactical level and prevent it from being transmitted to the strategic and political levels of interaction? Although there were intense tactical-level interactions during the crisis, there were no cases of such interactions generating an escalation sequence the President could not control. The first factor inhibiting escalation was caution on the part of U.S. leaders in the restrictions they placed on Sixth Fleet movements. No Egyptian or Syrian vessels or aircraft were encountered during the crisis because the Sixth Fleet was kept well clear of their coasts. The second factor inhibiting escalation was caution on the part of U.S. naval c o m m a n d e r s in the Mediterranean when potentially serious incidents did occur. The most dangerous interactions took place on June 7 and 8 during Soviet harassment of America a n d her escorts. This interaction sequence did escalate, in the sense that a second Soviet ship joined the harassment on the second day, but did not escalate to violence. U.S. Navy commanders were determined not to be intimidated, but were cautious to avoid incidents. Their caution arose not so much from concern over the political repercussions of an incident, but from the prudence any good seaman would show under the circumstances. Collisions are extremely 155

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War dangerous, so that even deliberate collisions for signaling purposes are performed with great caution. The June 7 - 8 harassment incident stands out because it was much different from the behavior of the Soviet navy during the rest of the crisis. On one other occasion, a Soviet frigate trailing America approached the carrier as close as 700 to 1,000 yards. Both this frigate and a Soviet AGI following Saratoga frequently maneuvered inside the U.S. formation, a dangerous practice when the carrier group maneuvers to conduct flight operations. When a larger Kashinclass destroyer was trailing America, the Soviet vessel maneuvered with greater caution, generally remaining three to four miles behind the carrier. 6 0 But none of these trailing operations constituted deliberate harassment of the U.S. carriers. Overall, as Anthony Wells points out, "The style of Soviet tattletale operations in this situation was conservative. . . . Soviet units in the Mediterranean generally avoided any action that could be construed as systematic harassment." 61 The third factor inhibiting escalation was that the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron generally behaved in a cautious and circumspect manner. 6 2 It did not practice anti-carrier strikes on the U.S. carriers. In fact, the two Soviet destroyers a r m e d with anti-ship cruise missiles rarely were in the vicinity of the U.S. carriers. Soviet submarines also appear to have maintained a low profile, rather than aggressively pursuing the U.S. carriers, and no Soviet long-range strike aircraft were detected during the crisis. This Soviet caution was an important factor in the lack of escalation during particularly intense interactions at sea. U.S. Navy c o m m a n d e r s could tolerate a certain amount of indiscretion by individual Soviet ships because it clearly was not part of a pattern of harassment and did not appear to presage a Soviet preemptive attack. Thus, while Soviet efforts to show caution around the Sixth Fleet were not entirely successful in preventing tensions from arising, they did help to prevent serious incidents from occurring. The fourth factor inhibiting escalation was tight coupling between U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean. Sixth Fleet carrier aircraft and patrol planes kept Vice Admiral Martin and the chain of command up to the President informed of the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron's operations and movements. Soviet tattletales probably kept Moscow informed of Sixth Fleet operations and movements on a near real-time basis. Overall, this

156

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War was beneficial for crisis management because the signal the United States and Soviets were sending with their fleets was one of noninvolvement in the hostilities. When Soviet ships harassed America, Vice Admiral Martin knew it was an isolated act and that the rest of the Soviet squadron was operating normally. When Israel attacked Liberty, Vice Admiral Martin knew that the Soviets probably were not responsible because he knew where their ships were and that they did not have any tactical aircraft over the Mediterranean. Thus, although tight coupling is generally perceived as increasing the danger of escalation in crises, it can also reduce the likelihood of escalation when both sides are attempting to avoid involvement in a local conflict. The fifth factor inhibiting escalation was use of the Soviet-American hot line. Both sides used the hot line to express concerns, give warnings, and avoid misperceptions. President Johnson's use of the hot line to warn the Soviets of the U.S. response to the attack on Liberty ensured that Soviet leaders would not misperceive the purpose of the sudden launch of carrier aircraft and America's sprint toward the Sinai. The hot line was thus used to dampen the potential negative effects of tight coupling between U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean. Tight coupling of the naval forces in the Mediterranean increased the need for the hot line, but also increased the effectiveness of the hot line as a means for conveying political messages. Soviet and American leaders could verify the accuracy of statements made by the other side by comparing them with reports on each other's naval operations. The essential requirement for this synergistic relationship to exist was careful coordination of naval operations with political objectives and diplomatic initiatives. The United States and the Soviet Union were largely successful in achieving such coordination. The seventh question is were the political signals sent with military forces misperceived by adversaries or allies, or did inadvertent military incidents occur that affected crisis management efforts? There do not appear to have been any instances of the Soviets seriously misperceiving the intent of Sixth Fleet movements or operations, largely due to close Soviet monitoring of the fleet and U.S. use of the hot line. There is a possibility that Arab leaders misperceived U.S. naval moves in the Mediterranean in May, intended to avert conflict in the Middle East, as threatening an attack on Egypt. 63 This could have led Arab leaders to assume U.S. hostil-

157

The 1967 Arab-Israeli War ity after w a r broke out, perhaps leading to the claim made June 6 that U.S. carrier aircraft had attacked Egypt. There was only one inadvertent military incident that seriously affected U.S. efforts to manage the crisis: the Israeli attack on the Liberty. Israel quickly notified the United States that it had conducted the attack, defusing tensions over the incident. The absence of serious inadvertent incidents was largely due to the cautious m a n n e r in which the superpowers conducted naval operations in the Mediterranean. Although there were relatively intense interactions between the two sides, the interactions could have been much more intense and dangerous than they actually were. The most important factor in avoiding incidents that could complicate crisis m a n a g e m e n t , then, was decisions m a d e by national leaders on the two sides that structured the tactical environment in such a manner as to moderate the intensity of tactical-level interactions and limit the tensions that would arise from those interactions. The eighth question is did any of the three tensions between political a n d military considerations arise during the crisis? There was moderate tension between political and military considerations. This arose from the restrictions placed on movements of the Sixth Fleet carriers and the efforts to use their movements for political signaling. The carrier force c o m m a n d e r s objected to restrictions on their mobility and the publicity surrounding their movements, which m a d e it easier for the Soviets to target the carriers. 6 4 On the other hand, the restrictions on the carriers did not impose unreasonable limitations on their ability to carry out their immediate political mission. Nor did the restrictions inhibit the on-scene c o m m a n d e r from responding to the attack on the Liberty. Vice Admiral Martin, on his own authority, launched aircraft to defend the ship and ordered America to close the scene at best speed. Both actions violated the geographic restrictions placed on the Sixth Fleet, but the President soon authorized the actions Vice Admiral Martin had already initiated. Tension between political and military considerations thus was not serious. There was only moderate tension between the need for top-level control of military operations and the need for tactical flexibility and initiative at the scene of the crisis. Orders to the Sixth Fleet were passed via the chain of c o m m a n d , and only the general movements of the fleet in the Mediterranean were closely controlled. The carrier force c o m m a n d e r s were not happy about this control of

158

The 1967 Arab-Israeli

War

their operations, but it did not seriously interfere with their ability to carry out their mission. There was very little tension between performance of crisis political missions and readiness to perform wartime combat missions. Sixth Fleet operations during the crisis did not seriously detract from the fleet's readiness for wartime contingencies. 65 One feature of crisis operations that the on-scene commanders did not like, even though they understood its purpose and importance, was publicizing the fleet's movements. The carrier force commanders would have preferred to make Soviet efforts to track and target the carriers as difficult as possible. This would have been a crucial consideration in wartime operations, but directly conflicted with political crisis management considerations. Other than this, there was little tension between performance of crisis missions and readiness for wartime contingencies. In summary, the stratified interaction model accurately describes Soviet-American interaction during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. Although there were intense interactions between U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean, there were few instances of decoupled interactions. The overall pattern was one of parallel stratified interactions with occasional momentary decoupling.

159

SIX

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War

The Fourth Arab-Israeli War erupted in October 1973 when Egypt launched a surprise attack on Israeli positions on the east bank of the Suez Canal and Syria attacked Israeli positions on the Golan Heights. After initial setbacks, Israel launched devastating counterattacks, crossing the Suez Canal and trapping the Egyptian Third Army. The United States strongly backed Israel during the war, initiating a massive airlift of supplies and equipment. In response to a Soviet intervention threat, the United States declared worldwide Defense Condition three (DEFCON 3). The Sixth Fleet played an important role in U.S. foreign policy, supporting the airlift and countering Soviet military threats. The Soviet Mediterranean Squadron also played an active role in the crisis, demonstrating Soviet concerns and politically countering the Sixth Fleet.

BACKGROUND At 2:00 p.m on October 6, 1973, Egypt attacked across the Suez Canal and Syria attacked the Golan Heights. They succeeded in achieving surprise and gaining ground on both fronts, inflicting heavy losses on Israeli forces. On October 8, Israel counterattacked on both fronts, driving Syrian forces from the Golan Heights by October 10, but suffering a defeat in the Sinai. On October 11, Israel launched a counteroffensive against Syria and advanced into Syrian territory. Israeli forces met stiff resistance, and on October 13, halted the offensive and consolidated defensive positions. There was only sporadic fighting on the Syrian front thereafter, and on October 23, Syria agreed to the U N cease-fire. Egypt launched an offensive in the Sinai on October 14 to relieve Israeli pressure on Syria. Israel quickly halted the offensive and 160

The ¡973 Arab-Israeli War

launched a counteroffensive the next day. Israeli armored units crossed the Suez Canal in strength on October 17. A UN-sponsored cease-fire was supposed to go into effect on October 22, but the fighting did not stop and Israeli forces continued advancing into Egypt. A second UN cease-fire was set for October 24, but again the fighting failed to stop and Israel continued its offensive, surrounding the Egyptian Third Army. On October 25, Israeli-Egyptian fighting tapered off and a fragile cease-fire held. 1

POLITICAL-STRATEGIC

CONTEXT

The United States had several objectives in the crisis: (a) to ensure the survival of Israel; (b) to preserve and strengthen U.S. credibility as a reliable ally in Israeli eyes, which was perceived to be important for gaining Israeli participation in postwar diplomacy; (c) to increase U.S. influence among the Arab nations—particularly Egypt—or at least reduce to a minimum the erosion of U.S. influence among moderate Arab nations that would result from U.S. support for Israel (and, if possible, avert an Arab oil embargo); (d) to reduce Soviet influence in the Middle East, or at least prevent an expansion of Soviet influence; (e) to terminate the war under circumstances conducive to negotiations leading toward at least a partial Middle East peace settlement, rather than just a cease-fire; (f) to avoid a direct confrontation with the Soviet Union that might escalate to a military clash; (g) to avoid unilateral actions that would unnecessarily erode detente while achieving only marginal advantages over the Soviets; and (h) to reduce to a minimum divisions between the United States and its allies (Western Europe and Japan) arising from the Middle East war. 2 The priorities of these objectives shifted during the crisis as circumstances in the Middle East changed. Several of the goals tended to be contradictory, requiring extreme fine tuning of U.S. diplomatic initiatives and use of subtle signals that were easily missed or misinterpreted in the heat of the crisis. The basic U.S. strategy was to achieve a cease-fire after Israel had repulsed the Egyptian and Syrian assaults, but before Israel could inflict a decisive, humiliating defeat on her neighbors (particularly Egypt). President Nixon and Secretary Kissinger believed this would create the most conducive circumstances for postwar diplomacy. The other major aspect of the U.S. strategy was to 161

The ¡973 Arab-Israeli War avoid a confrontation with the Soviet Union and to work in conjunction with the Soviets to resolve the crisis—at least to appear to be working with the Soviets while attempting to limit their role in the Middle East. This strategy remained consistent throughout the crisis, although the tactics used to pursue it changed significantly as U.S. perceptions of Israel's military situation changed. 3 The primary Soviet objectives in the crisis were (a) to increase Soviet prestige and influence among Arab nations, particularly Egypt, and to reduce U.S. influence in the region; (b) to avert a catastrophic defeat of Syria and Egypt by Israel; (c) to avoid a direct confrontation with the United States that might escalate to a military clash; and (d) to avoid serious erosion of detente with the United States. Additional Soviet objectives were to be able to take credit for Arab victories or for averting defeat of Syria and Egypt, and to end the war under circumstances that would give the Soviet Union an influential role in postwar negotiations. These Soviet objectives were complex and contradictory. The Soviets sought what gains they could from a conflict they could not avert without risking serious erosion of their influence among Arab nations. 4 The Soviet strategy in the crisis had three primary elements. The first was to press for an early cease-fire before the tide of battle turned against Egypt and Syria, at which point they would have greatest bargaining leverage against Israel. The second element was to work with the United States to gain a UN cease-fire resolution and to maintain at least an image of upholding the principles of detente. The third element was to resupply Egypt and Syria with sufficient military equipment to maintain an image of solidarity with the Arab cause and to avert a decisive Israeli victory. An additional Soviet tactic was to encourage other Arab nations to assist Egypt and Syria in the war against Israel. 5 The Soviet strategy was risky, in that its three major elements could become mutually incompatible if events in the Middle East took an unexpected turn.

COMMAND AND

CONTROL

The military and naval chain of command in 1973 was the same as it had been in 1967: from the President, to the Secretary of Defense (James Schlesinger), to the unified commander (USCINCEUR), to 162

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War the component commander (CINCUSNAVEUR), to the fleet commander (Commander Sixth Fleet), to the appropriate Task Force Commander (TF 60 for the attack carriers), to the appropriate Task Group Commander, and finally to individual ships. Admiral Thomas H. Moorer was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Admiral Elmo R. Zumwalt, Jr., was Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Worth H. Bagley was CINCUSNAVEUR, and Vice Admiral Daniel J. Murphy was Commander Sixth Fleet. The principal advisory body during the crisis was the Washington Special Action Group (WSAG), a panel created by Kissinger within the National Security Council framework. The WSAG, formed in April 1969, was the Nixon administration's principal crisis management body, serving a role similar to that of the EXCOMM in October 1962.6 Kissinger was the principal link to the President, directly and through White House Chief of Staff Alexander Haig. U.S. communications capabilities had improved significantly since 1967. The two major developments were automated message processing at communications centers ashore and satellite communications. Manual message processing, rather than radio propagation problems, typically caused the bulk of message transmission delays. Automated message processing and routing was being achieved through integration of Navy communications stations into the Naval Communications Processing and Routing System (NAVCOMPARS) and installation of the Common User Digital Information Exchange System (CUDIXS) at NAVCOMPARS master stations, which provided automatic on-line interface with the Department of Defense's Automatic Digital Network (AUTODIN) message communications system. The Navy satellite communications system was operational in 1973, but satellite communication terminals had been installed in only a small number of key ships. In October 1973, the Sixth Fleet flagship, USS Little Rock (CLG 4), the aircraft carriers USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA 42), USS Independence (CVA 62), and USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67), and the amphibious command ship USS Mount Whitney (LCC 20) had satellite communications terminals. Satellite communications provided rapid, reliable encrypted teletype and secure (covered) voice channels to Navy NAVCOMPARS stations ashore and to the Department of Defense AUTODIN message system and Automatic Secure Voice Communications (AUTOSEVOCOM) system. If he chose to do so, the President had the capability to speak directly from the White House with Navy com163

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War m a n d e r s embarked in ships equipped with satellite communications terminals. The r e m a i n d e r of the ships in the Sixth Fleet still relied on high-frequency (HF) communications for long-range voice and radioteletype communications. 7 President Nixon and his advisers used a combination of direct and delegated control over the Sixth Fleet during the 1973 ArabIsraeli War. The only aspect of Sixth Fleet operations that was under positive direct control by the White House was the location of the fleet in the Mediterranean. According to Admiral Moorer, JCS Chairman, "We only gave the Fleet general instructions as to the area to stay in." 8 However, most participants in the crisis recall White House control as being much closer than that. Admiral Zumwalt, CNO, states that there was extremely tight White House control of the fleet's location and movements in the Mediterranean: "The JCS felt they had to closely control the fleet because the Nixon-Kissinger political-military strategy closely controlled military operations. They used the fleet for their 'shadow boxing' with the Soviet Union. And there was close control of the Sixth Fleet by the JCS." 9 Vice Admiral Donald D. Engen, Deputy Commander in Chief of U.S. Naval Forces Europe, states that Washington's control of Sixth Fleet movements was "very restrictive" and that the Comm a n d e r of the Sixth Fleet had to get JCS permission prior to ordering changes in the fleet's operations. 1 0 In addition to the overall effort to signal the U.S. intention to stay out of the conflict, Sixth Fleet movements were used on October 25 to send a specific political signal to the Soviet U n i o n — w a r n i n g the Soviets not to intervene militarily on behalf of Egypt. Other than movements of the fleet in the Mediterranean, control of Sixth Fleet operations was delegated to the chain of command. Admiral Moorer states that Washington did not try to micromanage Sixth Fleet operations, and that he personally "tried to avoid nitpicking the c o m m a n d e r s . " " Admiral Zumwalt concurs: "In that aspect Nixon and Kissinger were quite rational; they let the chain of c o m m a n d handle operations." 1 2 Rear Admiral J a m e s B. Morin, Commanding Officer of USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA 42), Rear Admiral John C. Dixon, C o m m a n d i n g Officer of USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67), and Captain Louis Colbus, Assistant Operations Officer on the staff of C o m m a n d e r Carrier Group Six, state that they did not feel the movements and operations of their carriers were micromanaged from Washington. 1 3 The overall pattern, then, was one of close control of Sixth Fleet movements in the Mediter164

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War ranean a n d delegated control of all other aspects of Sixth Fleet operations. Although the White House sought to control the movements of the Sixth Fleet for political signaling, the chain of c o m m a n d was used for transmitting orders to the Sixth Fleet. Nixon and Schlesinger did not a t t e m p t to give orders directly to CINCUSNAVEUR, COMSIXTHFLT, or ships at sea. 14 The White House Situation Room was unable to monitor Sixth Fleet operations real-time. As in 1967, the President and Secretary of Defense had to await verbal reports from USCINCEUR and CINCUSNAVEUR, or receipt of message operational reports (OPREPs), situation reports (SITREPs), and operational s u m m a r i e s (OPSUMs). The p r i m a r y difference from 1967 was that these reports generally could reach the White House much faster than in 1967 (though still not fast enough for effective real-time control of fleet operations). Nixon, Schlesinger, and Kissinger paid little attention to the guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control, and did not use those mechanisms to issue detailed operational guidance to the Sixth Fleet. No special rules of engagement were issued during the crisis: the Sixth Fleet used standing CINCUSNAVEUR and COMSIXTHFLT rules. 1 5 Admiral Zumwalt states, "Nixon and Kissinger did not get into that level of detail with military operations. General rules of engagement were spelled out in the JCS, with overall approval coming from Kissinger. From time to time we received injunctions on things we couldn't do." 1 6 Similarly, it does not appear that any special mission orders (OPLANs or OPORDs) were issued for the crisis, other than for support of the U.S. airlift to Israel. Contingency plans did not play a m a j o r role in the execution of U.S. naval operations during the crisis. Kissinger states that on May 15, 1973, he requested a contingency plan covering "the kinds of things the Egyptians might do, the various ways in which the Israelis might react a n d the diplomatic issues that might ensue," but that this contingency study was not completed before the w a r broke out. 1 7 The United States did not have contingency plans for emergency resupply of Israel while a w a r was in progress: American planners expected any future Arab-Israeli w a r to be short and end in a decisive Israeli victory, thus limiting the U.S. role to replacement of Israeli battlefield losses after the war. 1 8 William B. Quandt states that on October 25, "The President ordered Kissinger to develop a plan for sending United States troops to the Middle 165

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War East in case the Soviets did intervene." 19 This plan was never executed because the Soviets backed down from a confrontation later that day. The United States also had contingency plans for various military operations in the Middle East, such as evacuation of American citizens, but none were executed. The most important mechanism of delegated control during the crisis was the U.S. alert system. In response to the Soviet threat to intervene militarily on behalf of Egypt, the United States set DEFCON 3 worldwide early on October 25.20 Admiral Moorer promptly informed the unified and specified commanders of the limited (primarily political) purpose of the alert. Setting DEFCON 3 had little effect on the Sixth Fleet, which was already at a high condition of readiness. The threat of Soviet military intervention soon subsided and U.S. forces quickly returned to normal peacetime readiness. 21 NAVAL

OPERATIONS

Soviet-American naval interaction in the Mediterranean became much less tense and dangerous between 1967 and 1973. Dangerous Soviet maneuvers near U.S. warships and formations continued to be a serious problem through 1969. From 1970 onward, reflecting the improvement in Soviet-American relations, the frequency and severity of naval incidents at sea declined somewhat. The Incidents at Sea Agreement, signed in 1972, further lessened tensions at sea.22 Although incidents were not entirely eliminated, both navies largely complied with the agreement and there was a significant drop in the most dangerous Soviet maneuvering practices. 23 By 1973, according to Vice Admiral Engen, the U.S. and Soviet navies had grown accustomed to operating close to one another. 24 Admiral Worth Bagley, CINCUSNAVEUR, provided this assessment after the crisis: "In fact the Soviets weren't overtly aggressive. It looked as though they were taking some care not to cause an incident. On the whole, their overt posture was restrained and considerate." 25 When war broke out on October 6, the Soviet "Fifth Eskadra" (Mediterranean Squadron) consisted of about fifty-seven ships, including eleven submarines (two armed with anti-ship cruise missiles), one Kynda-class cruiser (armed with SS-N-3 anti-ship cruise missiles), one Sverdlov-class cruiser (guns only), three Kashin-class and two Kotlin-class guided missile destroyers (armed with AAW

166

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War missiles), two Kotlin-class destroyers (guns only), nine frigates and corvettes (Petya, Mirka, and Riga classes, armed only with guns), two Polnocny-class medium landing ships (LSMs), two minesweepers, and several auxiliary vessels. The ships and submarines armed with anti-ship cruise missiles could launch a total of about twenty missiles in their first salvo (a rough measure of the threat to the U.S. carriers). Most of the Soviet ships were conducting routine peacetime operations, the majority of them anchored at Soviet anchorages in the vicinity of Crete or in Egyptian ports. 26 On October 6, a total of 48 U.S. Navy ships were in the Mediterranean. Task Force 60, the carrier strike force, consisted of two attack carrier task groups: Task Group 60.1, the USS Independence (CVA 62) attack carrier group, was at anchor at Athens, Greece. Task Group 60.2, the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA 42) attack carrier group, was in various Spanish ports. Most of Task Force 61, an amphibious task force consisting of the helicopter carrier USS Guadalcanal (LPH 7) and nine other amphibious ships, was in various Greek ports. A Marine battalion landing team, augmented with additional troops for an exercise (a total of about 3,000 Marines), was embarked in the amphibious group. The Sixth Fleet flagship, USS Little Rock (CLG 4), was at sea south of Crete. Four nuclear-powered attack submarines (SSNs) were on patrol in the Mediterranean. In the Atlantic, the attack carrier USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) and her escorts were visiting Edinburgh, Scotland, after participating in a NATO exercise in the Norwegian Sea.27 Egypt and Syria declared substantial areas of the eastern Mediterranean off their coasts to be war zones on October 6. The United States kept the Sixth Fleet well clear of these zones throughout the war The Soviet Union, on the other hand, conducted significant naval operations in these war zones. During the war, the Soviets concentrated amphibious ships and combatants off the coasts of Syria and Egypt despite the battles the Egyptian and Syrian navies were fighting with the Israeli navy, which created a danger of Soviet naval vessels being attacked inadvertently in the heat of battle. 28 The first U.S. military response to the war was to deploy an attack carrier task group at sea in the eastern Mediterranean. The Independence group got under way from Athens on October 7, and proceeded to an area south of Crete. On October 8, the Sixth Fleet

167

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War amphibious force was ordered to proceed to Souda Bay Crete, where it remained anchored through October 25. Independence arrived south of Crete on October 8, joining Little Rock.29 These Sixth Fleet movements were m a d e primarily for purposes of political signaling. President Nixon reportedly wanted the Sixth Fleet moved into the eastern Mediterranean "as a visible sign of American power." 3 0 Kissinger describes the signals being sent with the Sixth Fleet as more subtle and complex. The designated holding area south of Crete was "a position that the Soviets would read as indicating that the United States was preparing for any contingency—close enough for us to act in an emergency, far enough to bespeak no aggressive intent. The rest of our fleet lay farther west; we would be able to indicate heightened concern by moving it off Cyprus." 3 1 The low key, evenhanded approach being pursued by the Nixon administration was reflected in the operational guidance provided to the Sixth Fleet. According to Vice Admiral Daniel Murphy, C o m m a n d e r of the Sixth Fleet: "To project this attitude, the Sixth Fleet was directed to continue routine, scheduled operations and to avoid overt moves which might be construed as indicating the United States was preparing to take an active part in the conflict." 3 2 The Sixth Fleet was thus being used as a political instrument f r o m the first day of the crisis. The only significant Soviet naval activity during the first two days of the w a r was evacuation of Soviet citizens from Egypt and Syria. The Soviet Mediterranean S q u a d r o n generally continued normal peacetime operations during the October 6 - 1 3 period. A Soviet AGI monitored the U.S. naval base at Rota, Spain, and warships patrolled the Straits of Gibraltar, Sicily, and Messina. Most Soviet surface c o m b a t a n t s were at anchorages near Crete, and most Soviet attack submarines remained in the western Mediterranean. On October 7, a Soviet destroyer began trailing Independence as it left Athens, a routine form of peacetime surveillance. 3 3 Vice Admiral Murphy reported that there was little threat to the Sixth Fleet during the period October 6 - 1 3 : Soviet units in the vicinity of the [U.S.] Task Group holding area south of Crete during the period neither represented a severe threat nor gave indications of an increased state of readiness. One conventional attack submarine and two cruise missile firing submarines were in the general area but coordination with Soviet surface units was infrequent and sporadic. Therefore, COMSIXTHFLT did not perceive SOVMEDFLT [Soviet Mediterra168

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War nean Fleet] a threat to successful completion of any of the perceived missions during Phase I [October 6-13], 34 Soviet-American naval interaction in the Mediterranean began increasing on October 9. That day, a Soviet Kynda-class cruiser and the tender serving as the flagship for the commander of the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron joined the destroyer trailing the Independence and Little Rock, forming an anti-carrier group. Also on October 9, a Soviet AGI began monitoring the U.S. amphibious group at Souda Bay, remaining with it through October 25. Soviet reconnaissance bombers continued to be active over the Mediterranean, but did not harass the Sixth Fleet. 3S Stephen S. Roberts has suggested that the increase in Soviet ships trailing Independence may have been "a symbolic warning against possible Sixth Fleet interference with the airlift and sealift the Soviets were about to undertake to Syria." 3 6 If so, it was the first political signal sent by the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron related to how the United States might employ the Sixth Fleet in the crisis. Soviet tattletales provide near real-time targeting for Soviet ships, aircraft, and submarines armed with anti-ship cruise missiles. The presence of a Soviet tattletale warns a U.S. Navy commander that his ships are constantly targeted for preemptive attack. Soviet tattletales armed with anti-ship missiles provide the Soviets with the option of a preemptive strike that provides virtually no warning time for self-defense. 37 To counter this threat, the Sixth Fleet assigned ships to trail Soviet warships armed with anti-ship missiles. Admiral Zumwalt has explained why: All this trailing is an effort to compensate for tactical asymmetries. A carrier outside the range of the cruise missiles on Soviet ships can clearly sink them easily with her aircraft. Therefore, the Russians trail us closely in order to be able to destroy most of a carrier's planes or disable the carrier herself before aircraft can take off. We adopted the retaliatory technique of trailing the trailer so as to prevent them from preventing us from launching our planes by knocking out most of their cruise missiles before many of them took off.38 The U.S. carriers assigned a destroyer or cruiser to each of the Soviet tattletales that had weapons capable of threatening the carriers. The U.S. ships attempted to maintain a blocking position between the Soviet warship and the U.S. carrier, keeping the So169

The ¡973 Arab-Israeli War viet warship within range of its guns or missiles. To defend against Soviet ships armed with long range anti-ship missiles, which usually operated at greater ranges, the U.S. carriers launched "antisurface combat air p a t r o l " (SUCAP) aircraft, armed with conventional air-to-surface b o m b s and missiles, to monitor Soviet warships. The objective of the U.S. ships and planes shadowing Soviet warships was to prevent the Soviets from launching their anti-ship missiles against the U.S. carriers, which would have required taking the Soviet ships u n d e r fire before they could launch their missiles. 39 The U.S. and Soviet ships were constantly maneuvering for tactical advantage against each o t h e r — a t t e m p t i n g to be in a favorable position to instantly strike the first blow in the event of hostilities. On October 11, the JCS ordered the Kennedy group to depart Scotland on October 13 and proceed to a point west of Gibraltar to support the U.S. airlift to Israel. The same day, the JCS ordered the helicopter carrier USS Iwo Jima (LPH 2) with a battalion landing team embarked (approximately 2,000 troops) deployed to the Mediterranean. On October 12, Soviet Ambassador Dobrynin delivered a note from the Soviet government protesting the deployment of the Sixth Fleet to the eastern Mediterranean. Later that day, Kissinger told the Israeli ambassador that the United States would move a third carrier into the Mediterranean, probably referring to the Kennedy. The Soviet protest note and Kissinger's promise of a third U.S. carrier both illustrate the political role of naval forces in the crisis. 40 The night of October 10-11, Israeli missile boats attacked several targets on the Syrian coast and a battle was fought with Syrian missile boats at Latakia. Israeli missile boats fired anti-ship missiles at Syrian missile boats maneuvering among civilian merchant ships, sinking a Japanese freighter and a Greek freighter as well as two Syrian missile boats. Israeli missile boats raided the Syrian port of Tartus the night of October 11-12. Two more Syrian missile boats were sunk, but so was the Soviet merchant ship Ilya Mechnikov. Israel expressed regret for sinking the Soviet ship. 41 In a message delivered to the United States on October 12, the Soviets protested the Israeli sinking of its ship and warned that "the Soviet Union will of course take measures which it will deem necessary to defend its ships and other means of transportation." 4 2 On October 13, probably in response to the Israeli attack on a Soviet merchant ship, the Soviets placed a destroyer off the Syrian coast. A second 170

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War destroyer was added on October 15 to provide increased protection for Soviet ships and aircraft resupplying Syria. 4 3 When the U.S. airlift to Israel commenced on October 13, the Sixth Fleet was ordered to assist by placing cruisers and destroyers in a chain of picket stations stretching across the Mediterranean. The Sixth Fleet provided navigation, surveillance, air defense, and standby search and rescue support for U.S. Air Force C-5 and C-141 transports flying to Israel, and refueled F-4 and A-4 jets being ferried to Israel. Immediate delivery of these jets would not have been possible without Navy support because none of America's European allies other than Portugal would allow the U.S. jets to land in their countries. 4 4 The requirement to support the U.S. airlift to Israel created operational problems for the Sixth Fleet. The two carriers in the Mediterranean were forced to operate without some of their most valuable escorts at a time when they needed them to counter the Soviet anti-ship missile threat. Supporting the airlift left the Sixth fleet "widely dispersed and vulnerable." 4 5 This vulnerability was obvious to the Soviet navy. Robert Weinland contends that "as long as it remained dispersed, the Sixth Fleet was giving a clear— although unintentional—signal to all concerned that it was not about to undertake any offensive actions." 4 6 On October 16, a Soviet cruiser and destroyer joined the three ships trailing Independence and Little Rock south of Crete. 47 According to Vice Admiral Murphy, "The object of this presence may simply be to let us know that they are aware of our activities and to make us aware of theirs. They show no sign of being more alert than normally." 4 8 Admiral Zumwalt, on the other hand, felt the increased Soviet anti-carrier activities were " a specific reaction to the shifting of the fortunes of w a r in favor of Israel," m a d e possible by the U.S. resupply airlift. 4 9 As it turned out, the cruiser and destroyer replaced two of the ships trailing Independence. The replacement Soviet ships were much less of a threat to the U.S. carrier than the ships they replaced. 5 0 The Soviet Mediterranean Squadron numbered eighty vessels as of October 24, including thirty-one surface c o m b a t a n t s (two armed with anti-ship cruise missiles) and sixteen submarines (four or five armed with anti-ship cruise missiles). The ships and submarines armed with anti-ship cruise missiles could launch a total of forty missiles in their first salvo (up from about twenty on October 6). This was a formidable threat to the Sixth Fleet carriers. 5 1 171

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War On October 24, the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron began moving into position to support possible Soviet military intervention in Egypt. According to Robert Weinland, "The Soviets apparently anticipated strong U.S. opposition to what they felt they might have to do—intervene directly in the conflict to protect Egypt — and they moved as quickly as possible to be in an advantageous position to deal with that opposition." 52 Over the next two days, the Soviets increased coverage of the U.S. carrier and amphibious groups and deployed an amphibious force off Egypt. The cruiser and destroyer trailing Independence were joined by an anti-carrier group composed of a Kynda-class cruiser and two destroyers on October 24.53 Although this rotation was probably due to logistic factors, it would also have served to protect the Soviet airlift if the Soviets had intervened in Egypt. Independence was sitting astride Soviet air routes to Egypt, and the Soviets had every reason to expect that the Sixth Fleet would attempt to counter Soviet military intervention. The Soviet Kynda, carrying anti-ship cruise missiles with a range of about two hundred fifty nautical miles, did not need to trail the carrier in order to target it. Placing the Kynda group close to Independence sent a clear warning that the Sixth Fleet would not be permitted to interfere in Soviet military operations. 54 When DEFCON 3 was set on October 25, the Sixth Fleet was allowed to carry out the measures that Vice Admiral Murphy had been requesting since early in the crisis to improve the fleet's readiness for action. Kissinger makes it clear, however, that Sixth Fleet movements were being used to send a political signal to the Soviet Union, one the Soviets would detect long before they detected the U.S. alert. 55 The JCS ordered Roosevelt to proceed at best speed to the eastern Mediterranean, and ordered Kennedy, still west of Gibraltar, to join Independence and Roosevelt in the eastern Mediterranean at best speed. The three attack carriers were concentrating astride Soviet sealanes and airlanes to Egypt, in position to forcibly prevent the Soviet Union from intervening militarily in the conflict. The JCS also suspended Navy support for the airlift to Israel and allowed all but two of the escorts to return to the Independence and Roosevelt groups. The ships of the Sixth Fleet were already operating at Condition III, a heightened condition of readiness in which the ships were prepared to immediately defend against enemy attacks. 56 Secretary of Defense Schlesinger stated in a news conference on 172

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War the day after the alert was declared that the Soviet naval buildup in the Mediterranean had been a factor in the U.S. decision to set DEFCON 3: "The Soviet buildup of naval forces in the Mediterranean, associated with the possibility of actions taking place that might have involved U.S. naval forces, leads one to take precautionary steps involved in putting all U.S. forces that could be involved in a higher state of readiness." 57 As Sixth Fleet task groups rendezvoused in the operating area south of Crete, each was covered by a Soviet anti-carrier group composed of ships armed with anti-ship missiles escorted by additional ships armed with AAW missiles. 58 The Soviet navy commenced intensive anti-carrier exercises against the Independence group on October 26. Soviet submarines armed with anti-ship cruise missiles participated in the exercise, which continued through November 3.59 A Soviet cruiser and destroyer began shadowing the Roosevelt group on October 26, and soon joined the anti-carrier exercise. The Soviet anti-carrier exercise was probably intended as a signal that the Soviet navy was prepared to counter the Sixth Fleet in the eastern Mediterranean. As Charles Petersen notes, the Soviets routinely carry out anticarrier exercises in full view of U.S. Navy observers—often using U.S. carriers themselves as simulated targets. Through this exercise activity, the Soviet navy has made the U.S. aware of some of the tactics its ACW [anticarrier warfare] forces might be expected to employ. In effect, therefore, the Soviets have transmitted to the U.S. an "action language" vocabulary that can be—and has been—employed for signaling during crises.60 This is exactly what took place in the October 1973 crisis. Stephen Roberts described the anti-carrier exercise as "the most intense signal the Soviets had ever transmitted with their naval forces in a crisis." 61 The U.S. carriers, denied freedom to maneuver by White House orders placing them in small, fixed operating areas, were extremely vulnerable to a Soviet preemptive strike. 62 Soviet ships and submarines armed with anti-ship cruise missiles were constantly within range of the U.S. carriers while they were in the eastern Mediterranean. 63 Vice Admiral Murphy, Commander of the Sixth Fleet, has described the climate in the Mediterranean during the Soviet anticarrier exercise: 173

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War The U.S. Sixth Fleet and the Soviet Mediterranean Fleet were, in effect, sitting in a pond in close proximity and the stage for the hitherto unlikely "war at sea" scenario was set. This situation prevailed for several days. Both fleets were obviously in a high readiness posture for whatever might come next, although it appeared that neither fleet knew exactly what to expect. 64 Admiral Zumwalt has also described the Soviet anti-carrier exercise in strong terms: "I doubt that m a j o r units of the U.S. Navy were ever in a tenser situation since World War II ended than the Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean was for the week after the alert was declared." 6 5 This lasted through October 30, well after tensions in the Middle East eased. On October 30, the JCS authorized the three U.S. attack carriers to move to the west and maneuver freely in order to counter intense Soviet anti-carrier activities. Robert Weinland notes, "This gave the Soviets yet another c l e a r — a n d unintentional, but in the end not unwelcome—signal: the United States was relaxing." 6 6 The three carriers remained southwest of Crete through November 13. A Soviet anti-carrier group that had entered the Mediterranean on October 29 began trailing the Kennedy carrier group on October 31 and joined in the anti-carrier exercise. The Soviet navy now had an anti-carrier group trailing each of the three U.S. carrier task groups and c o m b a t a n t s trailing the U.S. amphibious group. As of October 31, there were ninety-five Soviet naval vessels in the Mediterranean, including forty surface c o m b a t a n t s (five armed with anti-ship cruise missiles), and twenty-three submarines (about seven a r m e d with anti-ship cruise missiles). Soviet ships and submarines could launch a total of eighty-eight anti-ship cruise missiles in their first salvo (up from about twenty on October 6 and forty on October 24). The Sixth Fleet numbered about sixty ships, including three attack carriers, two amphibious assault helicopter carriers, and nine attack submarines (SSNs). 67 The October 1973 crisis was the first Soviet-American confrontation in which the Soviet Navy posed a significant immediate threat to the U.S. Navy. In the assessment of Bradford Dismukes, "Soviet actions in the October War may well have produced a situation in which the Soviets were tactically superior." 6 8 This view was shared by senior Navy officers. Early on October 25, Schlesinger and Admiral Moorer briefed the Joint Chiefs on the events leading up to the worldwide DEFCON 3 alert. According to Admiral Zumwalt, Admiral Moorer had stated during the WSAG 174

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War meeting that "we would lose our ass in the eastern Med [Mediterranean] under these circumstances." Admiral Zumwalt told Schlesinger that the eastern Mediterranean was the worst place for the U.S. Navy to fight the Soviets. 69 Looking back on the crisis in retrospect, Admiral Moorer's opinion was not quite so negative: "Victory in the Mediterranean encounter in 1973 would have depended on which navy struck first and a variety of other factors. Victory would have depended on the type of scenario which occurred." 7 0 The Soviet navy thus posed a significant threat to the Sixth Fleet. There were no collisions at sea or other dangerous incidents despite the intense interaction between U.S. and Soviet naval forces. Unlike 1967, there were no instances of Soviet close quarters maneuvering to harass the Sixth Fleet. Other than minor incidents— such as training guns and missile launchers on U.S. ships, firing flares at U.S. planes, and shining searchlights on U.S. ships at night —both sides complied with the Incidents at Sea Agreement. U.S. carrier groups used the maneuvering signals called for in the Agreement and Soviet ships avoided interfering with U.S. formations.71 No Egyptian or Syrian vessels or aircraft were encountered during the crisis because the Sixth Fleet was kept well clear of their coasts.72 On October 25, two high-speed surface contacts headed out into the Mediterranean raised concern that they might pose a threat to the Independence carrier group, but the contacts were determined to be Israeli well before there was any need to take action against them. 73 There were no accidents serious enough to impair Washington's ability to manage the crisis.

FINDINGS This section will review the 1973 Arab-Israeli War to answer the eight research questions. The first question is to what degree were interactions between the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis the result of actions taken in accordance with mechanisms of indirect control, rather than direct control by national leaders? The Nixon administration did not attempt to exercise direct control over the Sixth Fleet other than its movements in the Mediterranean. Sixth Fleet movements were closely controlled—much more so than in the 1967 Middle East War. Rather than giving the fleet boundaries on where it was permitted to operate, Washington told 175

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War the fleet exactly where to operate. 7 4 The President and Schlesinger did not attempt to communicate directly with any level in the chain of command below the JCS; orders to the Sixth Fleet were passed via normal channels. Nor did they make an effort to provide specialized guidance in mechanisms of indirect control. There was thus significant delegation of authority to on-scene commanders, and the guidance contained in Navy standing orders and standing rules of engagement played a crucial role in determining the nature of the tactical-level interactions that occurred. The second question is were the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis tightly coupled with each other? Soviet tattletales and aircraft closely monitored the Sixth Fleet, U.S. ships and aircraft closely monitored the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron, and both sides quickly reacted to changes in the other side's naval operations. Soviet and American naval forces were tightly coupled during the crisis—much more tightly than they had been in any previous Soviet-American crisis. The third question is were the forces of the two sides being used by their national leaders as a political instrument in the crisis? The United States used the Sixth Fleet for political signaling. 75 Admiral Zumwalt observes that as part of their political-military strategy, President Nixon and Kissinger "used the fleet for their 'shadow boxing' with the Soviet Union." 7 6 Vice Admiral Engen, a veteran of both the 1967 and 1973 Middle East Wars, felt the Sixth Fleet was used for political signaling more in 1973 than in 1967: "There seemed to be more 'State Department' in this war and positioning of naval forces to convey signals." 7 7 The Soviet Union used its Mediterranean Squadron for political signaling, and Kissinger's description of the crisis indicates that U.S. leaders received the Soviet signals. 78 The Soviet naval actions that sent the strongest signals were reinforcement of the Mediterranean Squadron, trailing of Sixth Fleet task groups, keeping the bulk of the Squadron well clear of the fighting ashore, and the anticarrier exercise conducted from October 26 to November 3. The answers to these first three questions establish that the conditions necessary for stratified interaction existed in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War: The United States relied on methods of delegated control, U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean were tightly coupled, and both sides used their forces as political instruments under conditions of acute crisis. Significant and dangerous

176

The 1973 Arab-Israeli

War

interactions occurred at the tactical level that were not directly controlled by American leaders. The fourth question is did crisis interactions at the tactical level become decoupled from the strategy being pursued by national leaders? To establish that stratified interactions became decoupled in the crisis requires that one or more of the potential causes of decoupling were present, and that decisions made by tactical-level decisionmakers differ from those that political-level decisionmakers would have made in order to coordinate the actions with their strategy for managing the crisis. Four of the potential causes of decoupling were present in the crisis: communications and information flow problems, impairment of political-level decisionmaking, a fast-paced tactical environment, and tactically inappropriate orders. The U.S. communications system provided much faster communications in 1973 than it had in 1967, but still did not permit the President to exercise real-time direct control over the Sixth Fleet. This did not cause problems because the White House did not attempt to exercise such close control. Impairment of political-level decisionmaking was at least a minor factor in the crisis. President Nixon was in the midst of the Watergate scandal and the resignation of Vice President Spiro Agnew. Although the President reportedly made key decisions himself and was kept informed of major developments, he clearly did not exercise close control over U.S. military actions in the crisis. 79 The President's political travails appear not to have had a direct impact on U.S. actions in the crisis, but undoubtedly impeded top-level decisionmaking. The tactical environment in the Mediterranean was fast-paced during the crisis. Sixth Fleet efforts to counter the Soviet anti-ship missile threat required frequent tactical decisions as Soviet ships maneuvered to keep the U.S. carriers targeted. This constant maneuvering for tactical advantage was too fast-paced for the White House to effectively control. If a Soviet vessel had fired a missile at a U.S. carrier, there would have been no time for on-scene commanders to consult with higher authority before taking action. The same situation existed for the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron, which was constantly targeted at point blank range by U.S. warships and aircraft. Tactically inappropriate orders were a major factor in the crisis. To ensure that the Sixth Fleet sent only the desired political sig-

177

The 197i Arab-Israeli War nals, the White House ordered the fleet to remain in fixed operating areas. White House orders placing the carriers at fixed locations were tactically inappropriate because they left the Sixth Fleet vulnerable to a Soviet preemptive strike. On-scene commanders sought to reduce their vulnerability by countertargeting Soviet naval units. The White House orders were thus inappropriate from a crisis m a n a g e m e n t perspective because they greatly exacerbated the crisis security dilemma. U.S. and Soviet naval forces actively prepared to launch preemptive attacks against the other side in order to defend against the threat of preemptive attack by the other side. The second requirement for decoupling is that the operational decisions m a d e by tactical-level decisionmakers interfered with or otherwise did not support the political-diplomatic strategy being pursued by national leaders to resolve the crisis. The Sixth Fleet was moved south of Crete to demonstrate to the Soviet Union that the United States was prepared for any contingency, but had no aggressive intent and was not preparing to take an active part in the conflict. Sixth Fleet movements on October 25 were intended to deter Soviet intervention in Egypt with airborne forces, but the fleet was restrained in order to avoid signaling an intention to intervene directly in the conflict. Sixth Fleet preparations for preemptive strikes against the Soviet Navy—preparations the Soviets could clearly see—probably did not support White House political signaling objectives. Thus, there were decoupled interactions during the crisis. The fifth question is did national leaders and on-scene comm a n d e r s hold different perceptions of the vulnerability of on-scene forces to preemption a n d the need to strike first in the event of an a r m e d clash? During the first week of the crisis, U.S. Navy on-scene c o m m a n d e r s were relatively unconcerned about the Soviet naval threat because the Soviets continued normal peacetime operations. 80 From October 14 onward, U.S. Navy c o m m a n d e r s in the Mediterranean were highly concerned about the threat of Soviet preemptive attack. Soviet ships and submarines armed with antiship cruise missiles were constantly within range of U.S. carriers while they were in the eastern Mediterranean. 8 1 Rear Admiral Dixon, c o m m a n d i n g officer of the Kennedy during the crisis, states that the carriers were tactically vulnerable due to having been placed in "a fixed position in close proximity to the Soviets." 8 2 The threat of preemptive attack appeared to be particularly acute 2durir»g the October 2 6 - 3 0 period due to intense Soviet anti178

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War carrier exercises against the Sixth Fleet. Bruce Watson h a d explained w h y a Soviet a n t i - c a r r i e r exercise creates such grave concerns: One of the most difficult situations for Sixth Fleet forces to deal with is a Soviet anticarrier warfare exercise. When a U.S. ship is used as the simulated target, Soviet ships maneuver so realistically that it is virtually impossible to distinguish between exercise activity and a real attack on a carrier. In these exercises, Soviet forces are in position, and weapons are aimed at the target. All that is needed to transform the exercise into a shooting war is the order to fire. Just such an exercise was begun on October 26 83 The period of this Soviet exercise w a s p r o b a b l y the closest t h a t the Soviet Union a n d the United S t a t e s h a v e ever been to " h a i r t r i g g e r " readiness for w a r at the tactical level. Not surprisingly, senior U.S. Navy officers a p p e a r to have had a good g r a s p of the concerns felt by the on-scene c o m m a n d e r s in the M e d i t e r r a n e a n . In a s t a t e m e n t to the press d u r i n g the crisis, Admiral Bagley, CINCUSNAVEUR, described how the Sixth Fleet w a s being targeted by the Soviet navy. 8 4 S h l o m o Aronson reports that senior naval officers at the Pentagon were very worried a b o u t military risks in the M e d i t e r r a n e a n . 8 5 Admiral Moorer expressed concern a b o u t the Soviet naval t h r e a t in the eastern M e d i t e r r a n e a n d u r i n g the October 2 4 - 2 5 WSAG meeting, a n d Admiral Z u m w a l t later expressed s i m i l a r concerns to Schlesinger. 8 6 T h r e a t perceptions thus w e r e not stratified within the military chain of command. Civilian officials a p p e a r to h a v e held t h r e a t perceptions m u c h different f r o m those held by U.S. Navy officers. Kissinger, in particular, did not perceive a t h r e a t f r o m the Soviet navy d u r i n g the crisis. Kissinger's cavalier description of Soviet-American naval interaction d u r i n g the crisis reveals his perception: " T h e t w o fleets, signaling parallel intentions, later m e t off Crete a n d s t a r t e d milling a r o u n d t h e r e . " 8 7 The " m i l l i n g a r o u n d " that Kissinger m e n t i o n s was c o n s t a n t Soviet targeting of the U.S. carriers with anti-ship missiles a n d s i m u l t a n e o u s U.S. c o u n t e r t a r g e t i n g of high-threat Soviet w a r s h i p s w i t h ships a n d a r m e d a i r c r a f t — a m u c h more dangerous situation t h a n t h a t implied by Kissinger. Kissinger w a s e i t h e r u n a w a r e of the Soviet anti-carrier exercise or did not unders t a n d the t h r e a t it r e p r e s e n t e d to the Sixth Fleet. Kissinger states in his m e m o i r s that a f t e r October 25, when Soviet ships w i t h d r e w 179

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War from the coast of Egypt, "No such threatening Soviet naval activity took place again." 8 8 In fact, the most threatening Soviet naval activity of the crisis—the anti-carrier exercise—commenced the next day. After the crisis, Kissinger would rebut charges that the Soviet navy had been a serious threat to the Sixth Fleet: "I have seen statements that in 1973, the United States was affected in the conduct of the Middle East crisis by its fear of the Soviet navy. This may have been true of our Navy; it wasn't true of our government. . . . We all suffered from the illusion that our Navy was far superior to the Soviet navy, and we conducted ourselves accordingly." 8 9 This confirms a divergence of threat perceptions between civilian and military officials: The Navy chain of command from the JCS Chairman down to the carrier commanding officers perceived a serious threat from Soviet anti-carrier operations, while civilian officials did not. Thus, stratified threat perceptions arose at the top of the chain of command, between civilian and military officials. Part of the reason why civilian officials held much different threat perceptions than those held by military officials is that the Navy chain of command was not kept informed of the political and diplomatic aspects of the crisis. When asked if the JCS was kept informed of U.S. objectives in the crisis and U.S. diplomatic efforts to resolve the crisis, Admiral Zumwalt replied, "No. The JCS was only kept informed of those things on which Kissinger wanted our support, or which he thought we would find out anyway." 9 0 The Navy chain of command was also kept in the dark. When asked if the chain of command was kept informed of U.S. objectives in the crisis and U.S. diplomatic efforts to resolve the crisis, Vice Admiral Engen, Deputy Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe, replied, "There never is such information passed down the line." 91 Admiral Zumwalt confirms that Vice Admiral Murphy, Comm a n d e r of the Sixth Fleet, was not briefed on the political logic behind the orders being issued to his fleet: "And, worst of all from my point of view, he was not given the kind of explanation of these orders that a Vice Admiral and Fleet Commander, who after all is not a blabbermouth or a dummy, is entitled to." 9 2 On-scene commanders lacked important information on the political context of the crisis, and had to interpret Soviet behavior on the basis of the military and naval moves being made by Soviet forces. It is not surprising, therefore, that Soviet naval operations in the Mediter-

180

The 1973 Arab-Israeli

War

ranean appeared much more threatening to the Navy chain of command than they did to Kissinger. The only exception to this pattern was that Admiral Moorer informed the unified and specified commanders in general terms of the purpose of the DEFCON 3 alert. In addition to contacting them verbally, Admiral Moorer sent the following message at 3:37 A.M. on October 25: 1. Most recent communication with Soviets contains request that US join them in more forceful enforcement of Israel/Arab ceasefire by introduction of both US/Soviet forces. Soviets further state intentions to consider unilateral action if US declines. 2. Our reply not final at this point but, as you have noted, US response includes signal of elevation in force readiness, i.e., DEFCON Three worldwide, alerting of 82nd Airborne, more eastward movement of carriers in Med [Mediterranean], and redeployment of SAC forces from Pacific. 3. I am in session with SECDEF and Chiefs and will keep you advised.93 This message and similar verbal communications were important for ensuring that key military commanders understood the purpose of the alert. The security dilemma was stratified in the 1973 crisis. At the political level of interaction, neither the United States nor the Soviet Union had an incentive to launch a preemptive first strike against the other. Both sides desired to prevent the crisis from escalating to war. Military and naval moves, including the U.S. DEFCON 3 alert, were taken primarily for political purposes, rather than to achieve military advantages. At the tactical level of interaction, however, U.S. and Soviet naval forces had strong incentives to strike first and were actively targeting each other. U.S. Navy onscene commanders were seriously concerned about the threat of a Soviet preemptive attack due to Soviet anti-carrier operations. Soviet navy on-scene commanders must have shared similar concerns due to U.S. countertargeting of their combatants. The security dilemma was thus stratified—mild at the political level, but acute at the tactical level. The sixth question is, when tactical-level interactions become decoupled, what factors inhibit escalation at the tactical level and prevent it from being transmitted upward to the strategic and political levels of interaction? Although there were intense tactical-

181

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War

level interactions during the crisis, there were no cases of such interactions generating an escalation sequence. The most dangerous interactions occurred during the October 25-30 period, but did not escalate to violence. Although each side was constantly targeting the other and both sides were ready to instantly launch preemptive attacks, no weapons were fired during the crisis. Three factors inhibited escalation during the crisis. First, neither the United States nor the Soviet Union wanted to intervene militarily in the war if they could avoid it, largely out of concern for a clash with the other superpower. They acted cautiously with their military and naval forces, avoiding situations that might inadvertently involve them in the fighting and, with one exception, avoiding actions that were unnecessarily provocative. The only exception to this pattern was the Soviet anti-carrier exercise that commenced on October 26—an action much different from Soviet behavior throughout the rest of the crisis. If that exercise had commenced late on October 24 or early on October 25, at the peak of superpower tensions, it might easily have been misperceived by the United States as a further indication of imminent Soviet military intervention in the Middle East. It would be tempting to speculate that the Soviets deliberately waited until after tensions had peaked in the Middle East before starting the exercise, but the available evidence argues against that interpretation. The timing of the exercise was driven by U.S. naval moves: The Soviets started the exercise in response to U.S. concentration of the Sixth Fleet in the eastern Mediterranean. The implication of this is that the Soviet anti-carrier exercise could well have started at any time in the crisis if the Sixth Fleet had been concentrated in the eastern Mediterranean. Therefore, while the overall pattern of Soviet military and naval behavior was one of restraint, the Soviets were willing to engage in certain highly provocative activities. The second factor inhibiting escalation was that the United States and the Soviet Union communicated with each other frequently during the crisis. This helped to prevent the problem of ambiguous political signals, which can cause intentions and objectives to be misperceived. Soviet warnings to the United States on October 24 that it was prepared to intervene unilaterally in the Middle East if Israel did not respect the UN cease-fire were particularly important for avoiding a clash between the superpowers. Although that warning prompted the most intense superpower tensions of the crisis,

182

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War including the U.S. worldwide DEFCON 3 alert, the situation probably would have been much worse if the United States and the Soviet Union had not been in direct communication at that point. The two superpowers probably would have had great difficulty interpreting the political significance of each other's military moves on October 24 and 25 had they not been able to express their interests and concerns to each other. The third factor inhibiting escalation was caution and prudence on the part of U.S. Navy c o m m a n d e r s in the Mediterranean. This was particularly important due to Soviet targeting of the Sixth Fleet with anti-ship missile platforms. On-scene commanders had to carefully balance the need to maintain a tactically viable situation against the danger of incidents with the Soviet navy. This task was not m a d e easier by White House orders prohibiting the carriers from maneuvering to evade Soviet targeting. Caution and prudence were particularly important for the U.S. ships and aircraft assigned to monitor high-threat Soviet ships and destroy them if they a t t e m p t e d to launch anti-ship missiles. When the Soviets commenced their anti-carrier exercise, U.S. ships and planes countertargeting the Soviets had to distinguish between preparations for simulated and actual a t t a c k s — a n exceedingly difficult task. A single misjudgment could have produced a Soviet-American sea battle in the Mediterranean. The seventh question is were signals sent with military forces misperceived by adversaries or allies, and did inadvertent military incidents occur that affected crisis management efforts? There were no inadvertent military incidents serious enough to affect the crisis, but there were instances of U.S. leaders misperceiving the signals being sent by Soviet naval movements. In his memoirs, Kissinger makes this observation on the naval situation in the Mediterranean as of October 6: "Interestingly, Soviet naval units that had left Egyptian ports on October 5 moved west. They, too, were demonstrating noninvolvement while retaining the capacity for rapid action." 9 4 There are two problems with his assessment of the Soviet naval moves. First, Soviet naval actions were more complex than Kissinger describes: not all the Soviet ships that left Egypt went w e s t — t w o went to Syria; several Soviet ships remained in Alexandria throughout the war; and the Soviets were also moving AGIs and minesweepers into the war zone. The actual pattern of Soviet naval operations suggests a

183

The 1973 Arab-Israeli

War

higher degree of Soviet commitment to Syria and Egypt than Kissinger perceived. Second, the Soviet ships that Kissinger describes as moving west went to Soviet anchorages off Crete. The practical reason for that was that Soviet replenishment and supply ships were located at the anchorages. Additionally, the Soviets were concentrating their major warships off Crete to counter the U.S. Sixth Fleet. 95 The Crete anchorages occupy a strategic position in the eastern Mediterranean, ideal for covering the Sixth Fleet when it moves into the area. The actual signal being sent by Soviet ships moving west was Soviet intent to neutralize the Sixth Fleet. Kissinger's assessment of Soviet-American naval interaction later in the crisis is also revealing: "The two fleets, signaling parallel intentions, later met off Crete and started milling around there." 96 The two fleets meeting off Crete was not a coincidence arising from parallel political intentions; it was driven by strategic and tactical military considerations. The Soviet ships moved into position to launch a preemptive strike against the U.S. carriers if such became necessary. Kissinger misperceived the intent of the Soviet naval moves, giving them a political interpretation reflecting his view at the start of the crisis that Soviet intentions were benign. Interestingly, Kissinger's views of Soviet intentions changed dramatically during the crisis as the extent of Soviet support for Egypt and Syria became clear. 97 Naval movements are inherently ambiguous and easily misperceived. The eighth question is did any of the three tensions between political and military considerations arise during the crisis? There was serious tension between political considerations and the needs of diplomatic bargaining, on the one hand, and military considerations and the needs of military operations, on the other. The most serious tension was between Washington's need to control Sixth Fleet movements for political purposes and the on-scene commander's need for freedom to maneuver the fleet in order to reduce its vulnerability. As was discussed earlier, the White House restricted the movements of the Sixth Fleet lest they send a misleading signal of U.S. intentions to the Soviet Union. According to Vice Admiral Engen, this was "A real sticking point. . . . Very restrictive and destroyed flexibility of naval forces. This was a big issue with COMSIXTHFLT—and properly so." 98 Admiral Zumwalt has described the tension that arose from close White house control of Sixth Fleet movements: 184

The 1973 Arab-Israeli

War

Moreover, the orders were extraordinarily rigid. They specified latitudes and longitudes and gave Dan [Vice Admiral Murphy] little or no room for tactical maneuvers aimed at making his missions easier to carry out or his forces easier to protect or, optimally, both. Several times during the next few days Dan asked permission of the JCS . . . to move these ships or those toward the east in order to make his surveillance of the battle scene more effective and evacuation of Americans from the Middle East, if it came to that, more rapid. Each request was turned down by Admiral Moorer, acting, he told me, on instructions from the White House, which almost certainly meant Henry Kissinger." The Soviet tactic of keeping ships and submarines armed with antiship cruise missiles within striking range of the U.S. carriers created serious operational problems for the Sixth Fleet. Modern antiship missiles, particularly the large missiles deployed by the Soviet navy, allow a single weapon to destroy or seriously damage a ship. Tactically, all the missile needs to do is knock the ship out of the battle—achieving what the Navy calls a "mission kill." Captain Frank Andrews has described the threat represented by anti-ship missiles: "A carrier battle group is liable to serious wounds from preemptive missile attack in forward waters . . . because modern technology affords so much advantage to the side which strikes first that the victim may be unable to defend himself." 100 Soviet navy doctrine emphasizes the first strike, making it a central objective of strategy as well as tactics. Soviet naval writings emphasize the importance of "the battle of the first salvo."' 0 1 The tactical doctrines of the superpower navies interact, producing a war initiation scenario known in the U.S. Navy as the "D-day shootout." 102 Anti-ship missiles can be difficult to defend against, making destruction of the launch platform the most effective defense against them. U.S. Navy tactical doctrine for the defense of surface ship battle groups thus emphasizes destruction of launch platforms before they can launch their missiles. 103 Thus, the side that fires the first salvo in the D-day shootout is likely to gain a significant tactical advantage that could determine the outcome of a war at sea. Requiring that a task group operate at a fixed location with little freedom to maneuver (known in the Navy as a " ModLoc ") increases i ts vulnerability to a Soviet preemptive strike. Commander Frederick Glaeser has described the tactical problems that arise from this: 185

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War Although ModLocs are defended as visible proofs of presence, they are in fact the first step in targeting by an e n e m y . . . . A force in ModLoc is trapped in a set-piece battle in which an enemy with superior numbers can organize an overwhelming coordinated attack. In essence, we choose the place, and the enemy selects the time, weather, and politically opportune moment for his attack." 104 This is exactly the situation in which the White House placed the Sixth Fleet. In a preemptive strike against the three U.S. carriers on October 25, the Soviet navy would have been able to launch a first salvo of about thirteen anti-ship missiles against each U.S. carrier. 1 0 5 This was an extremely dangerous threat that could be effectively countered only by destroying Soviet launch platforms before they were able to fire their weapons. Conversely, a U.S. preemptive attack would have seriously degraded the ability of the Soviet navy to destroy the U.S. carriers. Both sides thus had strong incentives to strike first if they believed that w a r was imminent. The intense tactical-level interactions were not under the direct control of U.S. leaders, who a p p e a r not to have understood the dangerous situation they helped to create. Thus, a restriction imposed on the fleet for political purposes exacerbated the risks of a military confrontation and the danger that a minor incident could touch off an a r m e d clash at sea between the superpowers. There was serious tension between the need for top-level control of military operations in a crisis, and the need for tactical flexibility a n d instantaneous decisionmaking at the scene of the crisis. President Nixon a n d Schlesinger respected the military chain of c o m m a n d and did not attempt to communicate directly with the Sixth Fleet. Tensions arose primarily from the emphasis that President Nixon and Kissinger placed on using the Sixth Fleet to send political signals, which required close White House control over the fleet's movements. 1 0 6 Vice Admiral Murphy objected to this tight control because it made the fleet vulnerable to preemption, but his requests for greater freedom of maneuver were denied by the White House. 107 Vice Admiral Engen cited this as the most important lesson of the crisis: "Give the on-scene c o m m a n d e r authority to specified limits and leave him alone to position his forces in the way that he feels is best. Don't try to do 'squad right or left' from Washington." 1 0 8 There was moderate tension between performance of crisis polit186

The 1973 Arab-Israeli War ical missions and readiness to perform w a r t i m e combat missions. Admiral Moorer states that there was no concern that the Navy's response to the crisis would degrade its ability to respond to threats elsewhere, and that wartime considerations influenced the location of the Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean: " O u r primary consideration was the time required to get in strike position." 1 0 9 This suggests that positioning of the Sixth Fleet was influenced by military considerations (the time it would take the fleet to reach a launch point for air strikes against targets in the Middle East and the Soviet Union), as well as by the political considerations described by Kissinger. The commanding officers of the carriers Kennedy and Roosevelt state that they did not experience a degradation of their readiness to perform wartime missions during the crisis. The increased readiness condition of the Sixth Fleet resulted in improved logistic support for the ships in the Mediterranean, and the increased tempo of operations actually improved readiness by providing more flight time for pilots. 110 On the other hand, because the fleet was on standby for Middle East contingencies, routine exercises to maintain the combat proficiency of the fleet were canceled. This was a cause for concern on the part of Vice Admiral Murphy and Vice Admiral Engen. 1 " But the greatest concerns for U.S. w a r t i m e readiness arose from the transfer of large quantities of U.S. military equipment and munitions to Israel. This depleted U.S. war-reserve stocks and left some operational units without sufficient equipment and supplies to carry out wartime missions. 112 Thus, although Sixth Fleet operations in the crisis did not degrade the fleet's readiness for wartime operations, U.S. resupply of Israel degraded the overall combat readiness of U.S. forces. In summary, the stratified interaction model accurately describes Soviet-American interaction during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. There was intense tactical-level interaction between U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean, and significant decoupling of tactical-level interactions from political-level crisis management efforts. The overall pattern was one of parallel stratified interactions with frequent momentary decoupling. U.S. and Soviet naval forces were tightly coupled during the crisis, b u t there were no serious incidents between them.

187

SEVEN

Findings and Conclusions

Studies of international crises have repeatedly concluded that the success of crisis management is critically dependent upon top-level political authorities maintaining close control of the actions of their military forces. The objective of this study was to identify different causal patterns associated with variation in crisis military interaction. The phenomenon to be explained was the occurrence of inadvertent escalation in international crises. Inadvertent escalation was defined as any increase in the level or scope of violence in a crisis that was not directly ordered by national leaders or anticipated by them as being the likely result of their orders. The specific phenomena examined in the study were the interaction of military forces in crises and the impact of such interactions on crisis stability. An analytical-inductive procedure was used to analyze four historical cases of U.S. Navy crisis naval operations. This inductive procedure yielded a typology of crisis military interactions, each linked with a somewhat different causal pattern. The nature of the phenomena being addressed dictated a focus on decisionmaking and the details of how crisis military operations are controlled. That, in turn, required a research design in which a small number of cases were examined using the method of structured focused comparison. Empirical data for the study came from four case studies of the employment of U.S. naval forces in crises: the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, the 1967 Middle East War, and the 1973 Middle East War.

FINDINGS

OF THE CASE

STUDIES

The first three questions addressed the conditions necessary for stratified interaction to occur: delegated control, tight coupling, 188

Findings

and

Conclusions

and acute crisis. The answers to these questions indicate that conditions necessary for stratified interaction existed in all four of the crises. Delegated

Control

The first question is to what degree were interactions between the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis the result of actions taken in accordance with mechanisms of indirect control, rather than direct control by national leaders? Mechanisms of indirect control played the m a j o r role in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, but decisionmaking authority was delegated selectively. To control the risk of escalation, the President retained total control of nuclear weapons and delegated authority to retaliate with conventional weapons against mainland targets only under circumstances in which the Joint Chiefs did not have time to consult with him prior to taking action. Beyond this, however, U.S. leaders relied on delegated methods of control and mechanisms of indirect control. In the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, the President and the Secretary of Defense exercised a greater degree of control over U.S. Navy operations than had ever been attempted in the past. President Kennedy and McNamara retained authority over certain crucial decisions, particularly retaliation against Cuban air defenses and the boarding of ships. Other than this, however, they primarily controlled naval operations through mechanisms of indirect control rather than through direct control. In the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the Johnson administration did not attempt to exercise direct control over the operations of the Sixth Fleet other than its movements in the Mediterranean. In the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, the Nixon administration did not attempt to exercise direct control over Sixth Fleet operations, other than the fleet's movements in the Mediterranean—which were controlled much more closely than in the 1967 crisis. In both crises there was significant delegation of authority to on-scene commanders, and the guidance contained in Navy standing orders and standing rules of engagement played a crucial role in determining the nature of the tactical-level interactions that occurred. The pattern observed in the four case studies was direct control being exercised selectively and to a limited degree. Heavy reliance was placed on mechanisms of indirect control in all four cases, although the guidance contained in those mechanisms was not 189

Findings and Conclusions always revised to reflect the specific circumstances of the crisis at hand. Tactical-level military interactions rarely were under the direct control of political-level leaders. Tight

Coupling

The second question is were the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis tightly coupled with each other? The forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis were tightly coupled with each other in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, but their interactions were restrained by U.S. and Chinese efforts to avoid military clashes. In the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, the forces of the two sides at the scene of the crisis were tightly coupled with each other, but not as tight as might be expected given the seriousness of the crisis. Interactions between U.S. and Cuban forces were also dampened by the efforts that leaders on both sides made to avoid provocations. In this regard, the Cuban Missile Crisis was similar to the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis: Although significant U.S. forces were operating in close proximity to the adversary's forces, tactical-level interactions were dampened by the caution and restraint shown by both sides. Soviet and American naval forces in the Mediterranean were tightly coupled during the 1967 and 1973 Arab-Israeli wars. Soviet tattletales closely monitored the Sixth Fleet, U.S. aircraft closely monitored the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron, and U.S. ships and planes searched for and tracked Soviet submarines. Each side reacted to actions taken by the other side. Soviet and American naval forces were coupled much more tightly in 1973 than they had been in any previous Soviet-American crisis. Naval forces at the scene of the crisis were tightly coupled in all four of the crisis naval operations case studies. However, the tightness of coupling between the forces of the two sides can vary significantly from crisis to crisis and over time within a particular crisis. Naval forces tend to react quickly to changes in the other side's operations, seeking to maintain or improve their tactical position in the event of hostilities. However, this tight action-reaction linkage can be dampened by measures intended to avoid incidents between the two side's forces.

190

Findings and Conclusions Political Use of Force The third question is were the forces of the two sides being used by their national leaders to convey political signals in support of crisis bargaining? Both Communist China and the United States used their military forces for political purposes in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Communist China was conducting a limited probe of an ambiguous American commitment to the offshore islands, and exerting carefully controlled pressure on the Nationalists and the United States. The United States responded by accepting a test of capabilities under the ground rules established by the Chinese Communists, backed by a massive concentration of naval and air power in the Strait to convey a strong deterrent threat. President Kennedy clearly used the U.S. armed forces to convey political signals to Khrushchev during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. The President and McNamara actively sought out ways to reinforce the signals being sent to the Soviets, such as by modifying Navy ASW procedures to support the political objectives of the quarantine. Khrushchev, on the other hand, may have used military forces for political signaling, but did not do so as clearly as President Kennedy. Khrushchev was probably avoiding signals of hostile intent by recalling freighters carrying arms, and recalling the three submarines in the Atlantic. Both the United States and the Soviet Union used their naval forces for political signaling in the 1967 and 1973 Arab-Israeli wars. The United States used the Sixth Fleet to signal the U.S. intention not to intervene in the crisis, but also used the fleet to warn the Soviets against direct military intervention in the conflict. The Soviet Union conveyed political signals by rapidly building up its Mediterranean Squadron, shadowing the Sixth Fleet, and keeping the bulk of the Squadron well clear of the fighting. Naval forces were used by both sides for political signaling or related political functions in all four of the case studies. Use of naval forces for political purposes can bring naval units of the two sides in a crisis into close proximity, creating a danger of military incidents. Decoupled

Interactions

The fourth question is did crisis interactions at the tactical level become decoupled from the strategy being pursued by national 191

Findings and Conclusions leaders? There are seven potential causes of decoupling: communications and information flow problems, i m p a i r m e n t of politicallevel decisionmaking, a fast-paced tactical environment, ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, inappropriate guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, and deliberate unauthorized actions by military c o m m a n d e r s . To establish that stratified interactions became decoupled in a crisis requires two findings: first, that one of the seven conditions just mentioned was present, creating conditions for decoupling, and, second, that operational decisions m a d e by tactical-level decisionmakers interfered with or otherwise failed to support the political-diplomatic strategy being pursued by national leaders to resolve the crisis acceptably without war. There were instances of tactical-level interactions becoming decoupled from the crisis m a n a g e m e n t strategy being pursued by U.S. leaders in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Three of the potential causes of decoupling arose on the American side in the crisis: communications problems, a fast-paced tactical environment, and ambiguous orders. Despite the vast scale of operations that were conducted and the intensity of the interactions that took place during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, there were no serious instances of decoupling involving naval forces. The potential cause of decoupling that was most prominent in the crisis was communications problems. The second potential cause of decoupling, a fast-paced tactical environment, was not a m a j o r problem. President Kennedy a n d Secretary of Defense M c N a m a r a also sought to avoid three of the other potential causes of decoupling: ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, and inappropriate guidance in mechanisms of indirect control. The final potential cause of decoupling— unauthorized actions by military c o m m a n d e r s — d i d not occur. Two of the potential causes of decoupling—communications problems and a fast-paced tactical e n v i r o n m e n t — w e r e present in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, but there were no serious instances of decoupling. At least two of the potential causes of decoupled interactions were present during the Liberty incident: communications and information flow problems, and a fast-paced tactical environment. Although these factors prevented political-level leaders from exercising direct control over Sixth Fleet actions, decoupling did not occur. Interactions were stratified during the incident—evolving independently at the political and tactical levels—but were not 192

Findings and Conclusions decoupled. The overall pattern was one of parallel stratified interactions: interactions the President did not control, but which supported his political objectives. Four potential causes of decoupling were present in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War: communications and information flow problems, impairment of political-level decisionmaking, a fast-paced tactical environment, and tactically inappropriate orders. These factors may have led to decoupling of tactical-level interactions during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Given that Kissinger was attempting to use Sixth Fleet movements to convey subtle political signals, it is not clear that the White House would have viewed Sixth Fleet preparations for preemptive strikes against the Soviet navy—preparations the Soviets were well aware o f — a s sending the desired political signals to the Soviet Union. Various potential causes of decoupling were present in all four of the cases. The most common cause of decoupling was communications problems or properly functioning communications that were too slow to permit direct control of military operations—a factor in all four of the cases. The second most common cause of decoupling was a fast-paced tactical environment. This was a factor in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, and the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Ambiguous orders were a factor in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, and tactically inappropriate orders were a factor in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Impairment of political-level decisionmaking was a factor in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Two patterns of tactical-level interaction were seen in the four cases. The most common pattern was parallel stratified interactions: tactical-level interactions that were not directly controlled by political-level leaders, but which generally supported their political objectives and crisis management strategy. Parallel stratified interactions were seen in the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis and the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. The second pattern was momentary decoupling: tactical-level interaction that was not controlled by political-level leaders and did not support their crisis management objectives, followed by immediate disengagement. The pattern between instances of momentary decoupling is parallel stratified interactions. Momentary decoupling was seen in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis and the 1973 Arab-Israeli War.

193

Findings and Conclusions Stratified Crisis

Stability

The fifth question is did national leaders and on-scene commanders hold different perceptions of the vulnerability of on-scene forces to preemption and the need to strike first in the event of an armed clash? Did actions taken with on-scene forces by national leaders for political signaling purposes generate tactical situations in which the on-scene commander perceived an increased vulnerability to preemption and a need to strike first should an armed clash erupt, or prompt the adversary's forces to take compensatory actions to improve their ability to strike first? National leaders and on-scene commanders holding different threat perceptions appear not to have been a serious problem in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. The entire chain of command, from the President down to commanding officers at sea in the Strait, appear to have been aware of the danger of incidents with Communist Chinese forces. There were instances in the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis of national leaders and on-scene commanders holding different threat perceptions, but this did not create serious crisis management problems. The primary area in which there appear to have been stratified threat perceptions was in ASW: Navy commanders at sea were more concerned about the Soviet submarine threat than were senior military and civilian leaders in Washington. However, the differences were not extreme and the President and McNamara were also concerned about the Soviet submarine threat. The other area in which threat perceptions were stratified was the Cuban air and naval threat to U.S. Navy ships. In the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, threat perceptions were not acute at any level of the chain of command, and officials in Washington appear to have been more concerned about the Soviet naval threat to the Sixth Fleet than were on-scene commanders. Threat perceptions and the security dilemma thus were not stratified during the crisis. During the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, U.S. Navy commanders in the Mediterranean were concerned about the threat of a Soviet preemptive attack due to the difficult tactical position in which the Sixth Fleet had been placed by White House restrictions on the fleet's movements. Civilian-held threat perceptions were much different from those held by U.S. Navy officers. Kissinger, in particular, did not perceive a threat from the Soviet navy during the crisis, 194

Findings and Conclusions and was either unaware of the Soviet anti-carrier exercise or did not understand the threat it represented to the Sixth Fleet. Thus, stratified threat perceptions did arise between civilian and military officials at the top of the chain of command. The security dilemma was stratified during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. At the political level of interaction, neither the United States nor the Soviet Union had an incentive to launch a preemptive first strike against the other. Both sides desired to prevent the crisis from escalating to war. Military and naval moves, including the U.S. DEFCON 3 alert, were taken primarily for political purposes. At the tactical level of interaction, however, U.S. and Soviet naval forces had strong incentives to strike first and were actively targeting each other. U.S. Navy on-scene commanders were seriously concerned about the threat of a Soviet preemptive attack due to Soviet anti-carrier operations. Soviet navy commanders must have shared similar concerns due to U.S. countertargeting of their major combatants. The security dilemma was thus stratified—mild at the political level, but acute at the tactical level. Threat perceptions were stratified in the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis and the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Stratified threat perceptions did not cause crisis management problems in the Cuban Missile Crisis, but did cause problems in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. The crisis security dilemma was stratified in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. A serious incident could have triggered a naval battle in the Mediterranean that U.S. and Soviet leaders might not have been able to control. Inadvertent

Escalation

As was discussed in the introduction, inadvertent escalation is unintended escalation arising from the employment of military forces in a crisis. The military action is taken to increase security, deter escalation, or improve a bargaining position in crisis diplomacy, but results in unintended escalation by own forces or unanticipated escalation by the adversary. Naval forces appear particularly vulnerable to inadvertent escalation because they are perceived as having important advantages over other types of forces for crisis response, yet have serious crisis stability problems arising from the very characteristics that make them the preferred type of military force for crisis response. Due to the nature of their crisis operations, naval forces carry a high risk of being involved in 195

Findings and Conclusions inadvertent military incidents and, once they are involved in an armed clash, have greater escalatory potential than do other types of military force. In a severe crisis, one in which hostilities have risen to the point that wartime options must start receiving consideration, the tension between crisis management and naval strategy objectives would be acute. Top-level naval leaders would be likely to press for authority to commence large-scale deployments to forward war-fighting positions. There are several reasons for believing that a clash at sea is a more likely scenario than other paths to a superpower war, and that inadvertent escalation of a war at sea could be exceedingly difficult for national leaders to control. A principal objective of this study was to gather empirical evidence on inadvertent escalation. Although the rationale for naval forces having serious crisis stability problems and being vulnerable to inadvertent escalation appeared persuasive, empirical research was needed to confirm the propositions that naval incidents tend to occur in crises and tend to spark inadvertent escalation. As will be discussed in greater detail in the following section on patterns of crisis military interaction, tactical-level interaction that generally supported political objectives even though not directly controlled by national leaders was found to be the most common pattern of crisis military interaction. When tactical-level interactions became decoupled from political-level objectives, the most common patterns were for the decoupling to be momentary (national leaders quickly reassert control) or for the decoupling to be followed by disengagement rather than escalation. Tactical-level military engagements tended to lose momentum as on-scene commanders reached the limit of their authority and sought guidance from higher authority. There thus appear to be factors that inhibit escalation, cause naval incidents to lose momentum and the forces to disengage, and allow national leaders to reassert control over tactical-level naval interaction. The sixth question is, when tactical-level interactions become decoupled, what factors inhibit escalation at the tactical level? When tactical-level escalation occurs, what factors inhibit escalation from occurring at the strategic and political levels of interaction? Inadvertent escalation could not be addressed directly—none of the cases escalated to w a r — b u t research was conducted to identify escalation-inhibiting factors and the circumstances that could 196

Findings and Conclusions cause the escalation-inhibiting factors to break down, allowing a crisis to escalate uncontrollably to war. When decoupling occurred in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, it did not produce tactical-level escalation. Interactions remained at a relatively low intensity and when U.S. and Communist forces did come in contact, they quickly disengaged. This was because U.S. on-scene commanders exercised caution in the absence of guidance from higher authority and both sides took steps to avoid military clashes and adhered to tacit ground rules for the test of capabilities between their forces. Those ground rules included no Communist attacks on U.S. forces, no U.S. attacks on Chinese forces except in self-defense (and defense of Nationalist forces), and no U.S. attacks on the Chinese mainland. The escalation-inhibiting factors present in the Cuban Missile Crisis were caution and prudence on the part of U.S. and Soviet leaders during the crisis, compliance by on-scene military commanders with the guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control, and communications between Soviet and American leaders. The communications were not perfect, but the forma) and informal communications channels between the superpowers appear to have moderated the use of military forces for political signaling by allowing diplomatic rather than military responses to military incidents. Although there were intense tactical-level interactions between U.S. and Soviet naval forces during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, there were no cases of those interactions generating an escalation sequence that the President could not control. The escalation-inhibiting factors were caution on the part of U.S. leaders in the restrictions they placed on Sixth Fleet movements, caution on the part of U.S. naval commanders in the Mediterranean when potentially serious incidents did occur, generally cautious behavior on the part of the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron, tight coupling between U.S. and Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean, and use of the Soviet-American hot line. Tight coupling of naval forces increased the need for the hot line, but also increased the effectiveness of the hot line as a means for conveying political messages. Soviet and American leaders could verify the accuracy of statements made by the other side by comparing them with reports on the other side's naval operations. This synergistic relationship was possible because both sides coordinated naval operations with political objectives and diplomatic initiatives. 197

Findings and Conclusions There were intense tactical-level interactions during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, but no instances of decoupled escalation sequences. Factors inhibiting escalation during the crisis were U.S. and Soviet caution in employment of their military and naval forces, frequent communication between the two sides during the crisis, and the caution and restraint shown by U.S. Navy commanders. Both sides avoided situations that could inadvertently involve them in the fighting and avoided unnecessarily provocative actions—with the significant exception of the Soviet anti-carrier exercise late in the crisis. The restraint shown by U.S. Navy commanders was particularly important due to simulated Soviet attacks on the Sixth Fleet during that exercise. Six internal and two external escalation-inhibiting factors were identified in the case studies. The internal factors function within the government and military chain of c o m m a n d of one nation. The internal factors are military prudence (avoiding threat of surprise attack and combat under unfavorable circumstances), caution and restraint on the part of on-scene commanders, compliance by onscene c o m m a n d e r s with the guidance contained in mechanisms of indirect control, national leaders structuring the tactical environment to dampen military interactions, accurate and timely tactical intelligence on friendly and potentially hostile forces, and national leaders and the military chain of c o m m a n d double-checking the accuracy of initial reports of military incidents. These factors tend to moderate the intensity of tactical-level interactions, prevent armed clashes from occurring, and produce disengagement rather than escalation when clashes do occur. External escalation-inhibiting factors function between the two sides in a crisis. The external factors are tacit rules of crisis behavior observed by the two sides and communications between the two sides during a crisis. Tacit rules of crisis behavior are best developed between the United States and the Soviet Union, but also contributed to avoiding escalation in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. The Soviet-American tacit rules are not without flaws. Soviet naval forces have engaged in exceedingly dangerous behavior —dangerous maneuvering at close quarters and simulated attacks on U.S. naval forces—during international crises. The 1972 SovietAmerican Incidents at Sea Agreement has been partially successful in moderating such Soviet behavior. The findings of the case studies indicate that, contrary to what

198

Findings and Conclusions the escalation dynamics theory predicts, there is a tendency for tactical-level naval interaction to lose momentum and for the forces involved to disengage after an initial incident or armed clash. Pauses tend to occur in naval operations due to the need to regroup a n d prepare for further action. Due to the risk of defeat in battle, naval commanders are reluctant to initiate or sustain combat operations under circumstances they cannot predict or control. Naval c o m m a n d e r s quickly reach the limits of their authority and need permission from higher authority to continue combat operations. If they do not have such permission, or anticipate that they will not be able get it, naval commanders normally will try to break off combat action as soon as it is safe to do so—rather than risk being left in an untenable tactical position. The operational requirements of crisis management, if being followed, tend to accentuate this tendency toward disengagement by denying on-scene commanders tactical options (such as surprise attack and concentration of superior force) that can be crucial for successful combat operations. Three conditions can cause the escalation-inhibiting factors to break down, allowing a crisis to escalate uncontrollably to war. The first condition is for national leaders and military commanders to be predisposed to take action against the adversary due to a long-term failure of diplomacy to resolve tensions, creating military a n d diplomatic frustration with the adversary. Sustained hostility, harassment, or a history of aggression by the adversary can generate a perception that the adversary's leaders are unreasonable, irresponsible, or uninterested in serious negotiations, reducing the incentive to pursue diplomatic initiatives toward the adversary. These expectations could be entirely correct, but could also result from ambiguous intelligence on the adversary's objectives and intentions. The second condition that can erode the escalation-inhibiting factors is the immediate prior occurrence of one or more hostile acts against U.S. forces, citizens, or vital interests. Prior attacks can create an expectation that further attacks will occur or that the adversary is likely to escalate the level of violence. As with longterm frustrations, short-term expectations of further violence can be entirely correct, but can also result from ambiguous intelligence on the adversary's objectives and intentions. The short-term effects of immediate prior hostile acts can reinforce the effects of longterm frustration with the adversary, appearing to confirm negative

199

Findings and Conclusions assessments of his intentions. Expectations of further attacks tend to predispose national leaders and military commanders toward stronger military options against the adversary. The third condition that can erode escalation-inhibiting factors is for all levels in the chain of command, from the President to the on-scene commander, to hold similar views toward the adversary and the need for immediate retaliation for provocations. This can suppress the skepticism that normally greets ambiguous initial reports on a military incident, or lead to hasty assessment of the incident in the rush to launch retaliatory attacks. Misperceptions

and Inadvertent

Military

Incidents

The seventh question is were the political signals being sent with naval forces misperceived by adversaries or allies? Under what circumstances did inadvertent military incidents occur and how did they affect efforts to manage the crisis? Were national leaders aware of the dangers of misperception and inadvertent military incidents, and did that awareness affect their decisionmaking? Misperceptions and inadvertent military incidents were not a serious problem in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. The military moves taken by each side were carefully designed to signal their intentions. The principal problem that the United States experienced arose from the ambiguity of the Eisenhower administration's commitment to the defense of the offshore islands. The problem was not that the Communists and Nationalists misperceived U.S. intentions, but rather that they correctly perceived the ambivalence in U.S. policy. There were two instances of U.S. naval forces sending inadvertent signals of hostility during the Cuban Missile Crisis, both involving Soviet merchant ship captains misperceiving U.S. Navy surveillance activities as threatening. Although the Soviet government filed protests over the incidents, it did not interpret them as deliberate indications of hostile intentions on the part of the United States. The Air Force U-2 that strayed over the Soviet Union on October 27 was the only inadvertent military incident serious enough to have affected the President's efforts to manage the crisis. There were no serious inadvertent military incidents involving naval forces. There were no instances of the Soviets seriously misperceiving the intent of Sixth Fleet operations during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, largely due to close Soviei monitoring of the fleet and U.S. 200

Findings and Conclusions use of the hot line. Sixth Fleet and Middle East Force movements in May, intended to support the President's efforts to pressure Nasser into reopening the Strait of Tiran, may have sent an inadvertent signal of hostility to the Arab nations—leading Arab leaders to assume U.S. hostility after war broke out. There were no inadvertent military incidents that seriously affected U.S. crisis m a n a g e m e n t efforts in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. The most serious incident of the crisis was the attack on the Liberty, but Israel quickly notified the United States that it had conducted the attack, defusing tensions over the incident. There were no inadvertent military incidents serious enough to affect U.S. crisis management efforts during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, but there were instances of U.S. leaders misperceiving the political signals being sent by Soviet naval movements. Kissinger interpreted Soviet naval moves at the start of the w a r as demonstrating noninvolvement in the conflict, but Soviet naval operations actually revealed a significant Soviet c o m m i t m e n t to Syria and Egypt. Kissinger also missed the point that Soviet naval movements demonstrated an intent to neutralize the Sixth Fleet if it a t t e m p t e d to intervene or block Soviet intervention. There are three reasons for the lack of inadvertent military incidents in crises. First, the military chain of c o m m a n d normally cancels most military exercises affecting forces committed to or on standby for the crisis, greatly reducing the possibility of international incidents arising from exercise-related accidents. Exercises are canceled primarily because the forces are needed for crisis operations, but have also been canceled specifically to avoid potential political complications. The second reason is that the military chain of c o m m a n d usually advises on-scene c o m m a n d e r s to act with caution and to avoid provocative actions. The third reason is military prudence: On-scene commanders, motivated by self-preservation, try to avoid deliberately placing their forces in situations where they are extremely vulnerable to deliberate or inadvertent attacks. Military prudence is sometimes violated by U.S. leaders placing naval forces close to fighting in a local conflict. These three factors counteract conditions, such as increased tempo of operations and adversary forces in close proximity, that otherwise would tend to increase the occurrence of inadvertent military incidents.

201

Findings and Conclusions

Political-Military

Tensions

The eighth question is did any of the three tensions between political and military considerations arise during the crisis? There are three tensions between political and military considerations that can arise when military forces are used as a political instrument in crises: tension between political considerations and the needs of diplomatic bargaining, on the one hand, and military considerations and the needs of military operations, on the other; tension between the need for top-level control of military options in a crisis, and the need for tactical flexibility and instantaneous decisionmaking at the scene of the crisis; and tension between performance of crisis political missions and readiness to perform wartime combat missions.

Political vs Military Considerations In the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, tension between political considerations and military considerations arose in the restrictions placed on the support that could be provided for the Quemoy resupply effort. The political restrictions on the resupply operation were prudent from a crisis management perspective, but required the U.S. and Nationalist navies to improvise ways to get supplies ashore under fire. In the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, tensions between political considerations and military considerations primarily arose from the fundamental decision to impose a quarantine on offensive arms rather than immediately launch an air strike against the Soviet missile sites or invade Cuba. Tension also arose between the military consideration of protecting U.S. forces against a sudden attack by Cuban or Soviet forces, and the political consideration of avoiding military moves that appeared to threaten an immediate effort to achieve a military solution to the crisis. However, President Kennedy and Secretary McNamara were sympathetic to the military's concerns and accommodated military commanders as much as they felt they could without undue risk of escalation. There was moderate tension between political and military considerations during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. This arose primarily from restrictions placed on movements of the Sixth Fleet carriers for purposes of political signaling. The carrier force commanders objected to restrictions on their mobility, which denied them one 202

Findings and Conclusions of the greatest advantages of carrier air power, and the publicity surrounding their movements, which they believed made it easier for the Soviets to target the carriers. On the other hand, the restrictions on the carriers did not impose unreasonable limitations on their ability to carry out their immediate mission. The restrictions were disregarded by the on-scene commander when it was necessary to respond to the attack on the Liberty, but the President later authorized the actions that Commander Sixth Fleet had initiated. There was tension between political and military considerations during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. The most serious tension was between Washington's need to control Sixth Fleet movements for political purposes and the on-scene commander's need for freedom to maneuver the fleet in order to reduce its vulnerability to Soviet preemptive attack. The tactical doctrines of the superpower navies interacted, producing a war initiation scenario in which the side that gets off the first salvo in the "D-day shootout" is likely to accrue a significant tactical advantage that could determine the outcome of a war at sea. A restriction imposed on the fleet for political purposes thus exacerbated the risks of a military confrontation and the danger that a minor incident could touch off an armed clash at sea between the superpowers. Level of Control Tension arose between the need for top-level control and the need for on-scene flexibility and initiative in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, but it appears that a workable balance was struck. The Chief of Naval Operations insisted on frequent and detailed reports from Navy commanders in the Far East, but methods of delegated control were used and officials in Washington relied heavily on mechanisms of indirect control. Level of control tension arose during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. This was the most important political-military tension during the crisis. There was serious tension between the President's desire to maintain control over events and the Navy's desire to operate on the basis of its traditional philosophy of command, in which commanders at sea are delegated substantial authority. There was moderate tension over level of control in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. Orders to the Sixth Fleet were passed via the chain of c o m m a n d and only the general location and movements of the fleet in the Mediterranean were closely controlled. On-scene 203

Findings and Conclusions commanders disliked this control of their operations, but it did not seriously interfere with their ability to carry out their mission. Level of control tensions arose during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War primarily from the emphasis that President Nixon and Kissinger placed on using the Sixth Fleet for political signaling, which required close White House control of the fleet's movements. Tension over level of control was worse than in the Taiwan Strait Crisis and the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, but not as bad as in the Cuban Missile Crisis. Level of control tensions appear to be directly proportional to the scale and duration of crisis military operations, and more intense when national leaders perceive a danger of the crisis escalating to war, which prompts them to exercise close control over military operations. Crisis vs Wartime

Missions

Tensions arose between performance of crisis missions and readiness to perform wartime missions in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. The CNO's staff was concerned that prolonged operations would erode U.S. capabilities for military operations in other parts of the world, and Admiral Burke felt that U.S. naval forces were overextended and would have been hard pressed to respond to an outbreak of fighting elsewhere while committed in the Taiwan Strait. Tensions arose in the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis between performance of crisis missions and readiness to perform wartime missions. Preparations for invasion of Cuba degraded the ability of the United States to respond to Soviet moves in Europe, particularly against Berlin. This did not generate severe tensions because the political-military situation in other theaters was relatively quiet. This situation would have changed drastically if the Soviets had moved against Berlin or Turkey in response to a U.S. move against Cuba. There was little tension between performance of crisis political missions and readiness to perform wartime combat missions during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. Sixth Fleet operations during the crisis did not seriously detract from the fleet's readiness for wartime contingencies. One feature of crisis operations that the onscene commanders did not like, even though they understood its purpose and importance, was publicizing the fleet's movements. This is a crucial consideration in wartime operations, but one that directly conflicts with crisis management considerations. 204

Findings and Conclusions Tension between performance of crisis political missions and readiness to perform wartime combat missions was moderate in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. There was little concern that the Navy's response to the crisis would degrade its ability to respond to wartime tasking. Wartime considerations as well as political considerations influenced the location of the Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean, and the fleet's carriers did not experience a serious degradation of their readiness to perform wartime missions. The greatest concern for U.S. wartime readiness arose from the transfer of large quantities of U.S. military equipment and munitions to Israel, which depleted U.S. war-reserve stocks and left some operational units without sufficient equipment and supplies to carry out wartime missions.

PATTERNS

OF CRISIS

MILITARY

INTERACTION

Stratified interaction seeks to explain the outcome of crisis military interaction, specifically, the manner in which tactical-level military interactions can cause escalation of a crisis. Variation in outcomes will be described in terms of six patterns of crisis military interaction: unified interaction, parallel stratified interaction, momentary decoupling, decoupled interactions followed by disengagement, inadvertent tactical-level escalation, and inadvertent strategic-level escalation. These six patterns constitute a typology of crisis military interaction and appear to cover the full range of interactions that could occur in a crisis. However, because they were identified through an analytical-inductive process, rather than deductively, additional patterns could be identified through further empirical research. More than one of the patterns of crisis military interaction can occur in a crisis. The first four patterns—unified interaction, parallel stratified interaction, momentary decoupling of interaction, decoupled interactions followed by disengagement, and inadvertent tactical-level escalation—can occur in various sequences in a crisis. Conditions

Affecting Escalation

Outcomes

Each pattern of crisis military interaction results from a specific combination of seven conditions that were identified in the case 205

Findings and

Conclusions

studies as significant in determining the nature and outcome of crisis military interaction. The conditions that determine the nature of crisis military interaction and the likelihood of escalation are the degree of political-level control over tactical-level military interaction, the scale of military operations, the intensity of tactical-level military interactions, the perceived threat of attack at the tactical level, the relationship between political-level and tacticallevel threat perceptions, the strength of escalation-inhibiting factors, and the impact of inadvertent military incidents. These seven conditions determine whether stratified interactions become decoupled and the degree to which decoupled interactions result in escalation of a crisis. The first condition is the degree of political-level control over tactical-level military operations: the ability of national leaders to ensure that crisis military operations support their overall strategy for resolving the crisis. Political-level control of tactical-level military operations will be described as direct, indirect, or loss of control. Direct control means that national leaders can direct changes in military operations as necessary to support their strategy for managing a crisis. National leaders need not make every operational decision themselves in order to effectively exercise direct control, but they must have the capability to intervene in the conduct of military operations on a real-time basis when necessary for crisis management. Indirect control means that national leaders are relying primarily on mechanisms of indirect control to coordinate the actions of military forces. Under indirect control, national leaders normally have some capability to direct changes in military operations in order to ensure that those operations support their crisis strategy. Communications or other constraints preclude constant, real-time, direct control of tactical-level military operations, forcing reliance on mechanisms of indirect control. Loss of control means that national leaders are not able to direct changes in military operations in order to support their crisis strategy. Loss of control is caused by the sources of decoupling: communications and information flow problems, impairment of political-level decisionmaking, a fast-paced tactical environment, ambiguous or ambivalent orders, tactically inappropriate orders, inappropriate guidance in mechanisms of indirect control, and deliberate unauthorized actions by military commanders. National

206

Findings and Conclusions leaders can experience loss of control even while in direct communication with the on-scene commander. The second condition is the scale of crisis military operations being conducted by U.S. armed forces. The scale of military operations affects three aspects of a crisis. It affects the ability of political-level officials to control tactical-level military operations. Generally, the larger the scale of operations, the more difficult it is for national leaders to maintain direct control over all the operations being conducted and the more likely it is that decoupling will occur. It affects the intensity of military interactions with the other side's forces. Generally, the larger the scale of operations, the greater the number of tactical interactions between the forces of the two sides. And it affects the likelihood of inadvertent military incidents: The larger the scale of operations, the greater the likelihood of inadvertent military incidents. The scale of military operations can range from local to global. Local operations cover a relatively small geographic area and involve relatively small forces—a single navy task force, army division, or joint task force of equivalent size. The joint task force that invaded Grenada in 1983 represents the approximate maximum size of local-scale operations. Forces larger than this generally require theater-level control in order to coordinate operations. Theater operations involve a substantial portion of the forces in a theater, thus requiring theater-level coordination. The forces that participated in operations against Cuba during the Missile Crisis represent the approximate maximum size of theater-scale operations. Global operations involve operations in more than one theater. For example, placing U.S. forces at Defense Condition of Readiness (DEFCON) three, as was done in the 1973 Middle East War, initiates global-scale operations. The third condition is the intensity of tactical-level interactions between the military forces of the two sides in a crisis. This condition is distinct from scale of operations because large-scale operations do not necessarily result in intense interactions. The adversary may choose not to initiate operations on a similar scale, or may take precautions to reduce contact with the other side's forces. Interactions can range from routine to intense. Routine intensity is the level normally experienced in peacetime. It includes normal peacetime surveillance activities and normal peacetime contact among naval vessels at sea. Heightened intensity of interaction

207

Findings and Conclusions includes increased surveillance activity, close proximity of forces, and tactical positioning of some forces for the possibility of combat. An example would be Soviet anti-carrier forces moving to within missile range of U.S. carrier battle groups. Severe intensity of interaction includes deliberate harassment, constant surveillance and targeting activities, and frequent maneuvering by both sides to maintain and improve their tactical positions. The fourth condition is the perceived threat of attack held by tactical-level military commanders. Tactical-level(on-scene) commanders are those directly commanding forces at the scene of a crisis. Tactical-level naval commanders include commanding officers of ships and commanders of task groups and task forces. Fleet commanders can also be tactical-level commanders if directly controlling operations at the scene of a crisis (such as Commander, Seventh Fleet during the 1958 T a i w a n Strait Crisis, Commander Second Fleet during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and Commander Sixth Fleet during the 1967 and 1973 Arab-Israeli wars). Tactical-level commanders are constantly assessing the threat to their forces on the basis of their tactical situation relative to the adversary's forces. Because the on-scene commander must at all times be prepared for a sudden outbreak of fighting—either on orders from his superiors or instigated by the adversary—his assessment of the adversary's intentions is heavily influenced by the actions the adversary's forces are taking and their capabilities. Onscene commanders do not base their assessment of the adversary's intentions only on the basis of what adversary forces are capable of doing, but this factor plays a much larger role at the tactical level of interaction than it does at the political level. The threat perceptions held by tactical-level military commanders can range from total accuracy to acute misperceptions. The on-scene commander could accurately perceive that the adversary's forces are unlikely to attack, or accurately perceive that they are making final preparations for an imminent preemptive attack. But the on-scene commander might also misperceive military actions taken by the adversary to send political signals or improve defensive capabilities as indicating an intent to attack. The crisis security dilemma can be particularly acute at the tactical level. Many of the actions a state takes in a crisis in order to increase its security and improve its bargaining position decrease the security of its adversary. This dilemma is particularly acute in naval warfare, where the fragility of platforms relative to 208

Findings and Conclusions the destructiveness of weapons dictates tactical emphasis on shooting first. Thus, many of the actions taken with naval forces in crises to increase a nation's security and improve its bargaining position inherently increase the vulnerability of the adversary's naval forces to a first strike. The perceived threat of attack held by tactical-level military commanders can range from attack unlikely to attack imminent. These are terms commonly used by military forces to designate threat warning levels. The perception that an attack is unlikely means that the adversary is not expected to launch an attack, or does not have the capability to launch an attack, within a certain time frame (generally one or t w o days). The perception that attack is possible means that the adversary has the capability to launch an attack in the near future, but there is not sufficient information to determine that it is in fact his intention to attack. The perception that attack is imminent means that the adversary has the capability to launch an attack, and the apparent intention of launching an attack, in the immediate future. The fifth condition is the relationship between political-level and tactical-level threat perceptions. Political-level authorities can hold threat perceptions much different from those held by tacticallevel military commanders. The t w o groups of decisionmakers are making their assessments in much different environments and often on the basis of different information. National leaders focus primarily on the overall political and strategic picture, including communications with the adversary. T o national leaders the tactical situation at the scene of the crisis is but one element in constructing the overall picture. On-scene commanders, on the other hand, focus on their immediate tactical situation, particularly the behavior of the adversary's forces in the vicinity. On-scene commanders normally have only limited information on the overall politicalmilitary situation. A military move that is only a political signal to the national leaders can be seen as a seriously threatening change in the tactical situation by the on-scene commander. Such differences in perceptions are what is meant by stratification of threat perceptions. The relationship between political- and tactical-level threat perceptions can range from convergent to divergent. Convergent threat perceptions occur when political- and tactical-level decisionmakers hold essentially the same threat perceptions. For example, threat perceptions w o u l d be convergent when national leaders perceive 209

Findings and Conclusions that the adversary has decided to resort to war and that war cannot be averted by further diplomatic efforts, while on-scene commanders perceive that attack by the adversary's forces at the scene of the crisis is imminent. Accurate convergent threat perceptions enhance the efficacy of crisis decisionmaking, whereas convergent misperceptions of the threat can seriously threaten crisis management efforts. Divergent threat perceptions are significantly different at the political and tactical levels. The most common cause of divergent threat perceptions is either tactical-level or politicallevel decisionmakers seriously misperceiving the adversary's intentions. Other possible causes are decisonmakers at one level misperceiving less than the actual threat while the other level misperceives greater than the actual threat; or both levels accurately perceiving adversary intentions that are different at the political and tactical levels. The relationship between political- and tactical-level threat perceptions usually lies between convergent and divergent—roughly similar but not identical. The sixth condition is the strength of the factors inhibiting escalation. The internal factors are military prudence, caution, and restraint on the part of on-scene commanders; compliance by onscene commanders with mechanisms of indirect control; national leaders structuring the tactical environment to dampen military interactions; accurate and timely tactical intelligence on both friendly and potentially hostile forces, and national leaders and the chain of c o m m a n d double-checking the accuracy of initial reports of military incidents. The external factors are tacit rules of crisis behavior observed by the two sides and communications between the two sides in a crisis. The strength of the factors inhibiting escalation can range from strong to lacking. Strong inhibiting factors prevent escalation from occurring other than as the result of a deliberate decision by national leaders. Weak inhibiting factors allow escalation to occur when an engagement first breaks out, but prevent the military action from gaining sustained m o m e n t u m . Lack of the inhibiting factors allows escalation to arise from an inadvertent military incident and gain m o m e n t u m , exceeding the ability of national leaders to control it. The seventh condition is the impact of inadvertent military incidents on stratified interactions. Such incidents include unanticipated authorized actions, military accidents, and unauthorized actions. Inadvertent military incidents can trigger decoupling of 210

Findings and Conclusions tactical-level military interactions from political-level crisis management objectives, and the start of an escalation sequence at the tactical level of interaction. The impact of inadvertent military incidents can range from minor to significant. Minor incidents do not occur often, are not likely to cause decoupling when they do occur, and do not impede the reestablishment of control when decoupling occurs. Moderate incidents change the course of tactical interaction, forcing on-scene commanders to judge adversary intentions and make threat assessments. Significant incidents have a major impact on stratified interaction. They cause decoupling of tactical military interactions from political objectives, prevent reestablishment of political-level control, and trigger escalation sequences. Patterns of Crisis Military

Interaction

The first pattern of crisis military interaction is unified interaction. In this pattern, political-level leaders exercise direct control over tactical-level military operations. Unified interaction is the optimum pattern of crisis military interaction for crisis management. It is the pattern achieved when national leaders succeed in meeting the crisis management requirement that they maintain close control over military operations. If escalation occurs, it is controlled by national leaders, rather than arising inadvertently at the tactical level. The causal pattern for unified interaction is direct political-level control of tactical-level military interaction, local scale of military operations, routine to heightened intensity of tactical-level military interaction, any tactical-level threat perception (not significant in this pattern), a convergent relationship between politicallevel and tactical-level threat perceptions, strong factors inhibiting escalation, and inadvertent military incidents that have minor impact on crisis military interaction. There were no examples of the unified interaction pattern in the case studies. This suggests that unified interaction is improbable, particularly in a military establishment as large and complex as that of the United States. The second pattern of crisis military interaction is parallel stratified interaction. In this pattern, national leaders retain control over the escalation and de-escalation of conflict. Interaction sequences at the political and tactical levels evolve in parallel, in the sense of reflecting the same overall strategy toward the adversary. 211

Findings and Conclusions National leaders do not closely control tactical-level operational decisions, but the decisions made by on-scene commanders support the crisis management strategy of national leaders. Parallel stratified interaction is the second best pattern of military interaction from a crisis management perspective. If escalation occurs, it is controlled by national leaders rather than arising inadvertently at the tactical level. The causal pattern for parallel stratified interaction is indirect political-level control of tactical-level military interaction, local to theater scale of military operations, routine to heightened intensity of tactical-level military interaction, any tactical-level threat perceptions (not significant in this pattern), a convergent relationship between political-level and tactical-level threat perceptions, strong factors inhibiting escalation, and inadvertent military incidents that have minor impact on crisis military interaction. The most important conditions in the parallel stratified interaction pattern are indirect political-level control of tactical-level military operations and convergent threat perceptions. The third pattern of crisis military interaction is momentary decoupling of interaction. In this pattern, national leaders lose control of military interactions, but quickly reestablish control. During the period in which national leaders are not controlling tactical-level interaction, the actions taken by the on-scene commander do not support the crisis management efforts being pursued by national leaders. Those actions could well be authorized under guidance contained in the mechanisms of indirect control, but nevertheless complicate political and diplomatic efforts to resolve the crisis. This does not mean that the on-scene commander was wrong to take the actions, for example, he may have been compelled to use force in self-defense as authorized in his rules of engagement. Instances of momentary decoupling were observed in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, and the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. In the causal pattern for momentary decoupling, loss of political-level control over tactical-level military operations and inadvertent incidents with a significant impact on crisis military interaction cause decoupling to occur. However, these conditions do not prevent national leaders from quickly reestablishing control. Conditions that cause decoupling to be momentary are a limited scale of military operations, routine to heightened intensity of tacticallevel military operations, unlikely to possible tactical-level threat 212

Findings and Conclusions perceptions, a convergent or similar relationship between politicaland tactical-level threat perceptions, and strong escalation-inhibiting factors. The fourth pattern of crisis military interaction is decoupled interactions followed by disengagement. This pattern begins with decoupling of tactical-level interaction from political-level control. National leaders are not able to immediately reestablish control due to communications problems, decisionmaking overload, or a fast-paced tactical environment. The initial tactical-level engagement between the two sides does not gain momentum and escalate; it loses m o m e n t u m and the forces disengage. By the time national leaders reestablish control, the shooting has stopped. Tactical-level disengagement can be a requirement for political-level control to be reestablished, particularly in a fast-paced tactical environment. In the causal pattern for decoupling followed by disengagement, loss of political-level control over intense tactical-level operations, tactical-level threat perceptions that attack is imminent, and inadvertent incidents with a significant impact on crisis military interaction cause decoupling and the initial engagement to occur. Strong escalation-inhibiting factors cause decoupled tactical-level to disengage rather than escalate. The scale of military operations and the relationship between political-level and tactical-level threat perceptions have no significant role in causing the pattern. The fifth pattern of crisis military interaction is inadvertent tactical-level escalation. This pattern begins with decoupling of tactical-level interaction from political-level crisis management objectives. National leaders are not able to immediately reestablish control due to communications problems, decisionmaking overload or a fast-paced tactical environment. The initial tacticallevel engagement gains momentum and escalates, increasing in violence and involving an increasing amount of each side's forces. There were no examples of this crisis military interaction pattern in the case studies. The inadvertent tactical-level escalation pattern can have three outcomes: disengagement short of war, inadvertent strategic-level escalation, or deliberate escalation by national leaders. The escalation sequence stops under one of three circumstances: one side disengages after suffering catastrophic losses, both sides disengage from an inconclusive engagement due to exhaustion of ordnance and attrition of forces, or national leaders reestablish control and order disengagement. The third scenario—national leaders halting 213

Findings and

Conclusions

tactical-level escalation after losing control — is unlikely due to the difficulty of maintaining direct control of forces once they are engaged in battle. In the causal pattern for inadvertent tactical-level escalation, loss of political-level control over tactical-level military operations, intense tactical-level military operations, tactical-level threat perceptions that attack is imminent and inadvertent incidents with a significant impact on crisis military interaction cause decoupling and the initial engagement to occur. Intense tactical-level military interaction and a tactical-level threat perception that attack is imminent cause decoupled tactical-level interactions to escalate. A divergent relationship between political-level and tactical-level threat perceptions and weak escalation-inhibiting factors allow tactical-level escalation but prevent inadvertent strategic-level escalation or deliberate political-level escalation. The sixth pattern of crisis military interaction is inadvertent strategic-level escalation. This pattern can arise via either of two paths: escalation at the strategic level arising from tactical-level escalation, or initiation of escalation at the strategic level without prior tactical-level escalation. Inadvertent strategic-level escalation arising from tactical-level escalation was the path examined in this study, which focused on tactical-level military interaction. Inadvertent strategic-level escalation without prior tactical-level escalation could arise from inadvertent military incidents involving strategic-level forces. Many of the factors affecting tacticallevel interaction probably also affect strategic-level interaction, but such strategic-level factors were not addressed in this study. There were no examples of inadvertent strategic-level escalation arising from tactical-level escalation in the case studies. Inadvertent strategic-level escalation arising from tactical-level escalation begins with tactical-level interactions decoupling from political-level control. National leaders are unable to immediately reestablish control over tactical-level interaction due to communications problems, decisionmaking overload, or a fast-paced tactical environment. The initial tactical-level engagement gains momentum and escalates, increasing in violence and involving an increasing amount of each side's forces. The tactical-level escalation spiral generates escalatory pressures at the strategic level, reinforcing perceptions that the adversary is preparing for war and is not interested in a diplomatic solution to the crisis. The scope of

214

Findings and

Conclusions

fighting rapidly grows to the theater level and spreads to other theaters, possibly becoming global in scope. The spread of the escalatory spiral to the strategic level of interaction is through deliberate decisions made by strategic-level military commanders, but is considered to be inadvertent because it was not directly ordered by national leaders and did not support their efforts to manage the crisis. Inadvertent strategic-level escalation can cause escalation to war that is not controlled by national leaders, deliberate escalation to war by national leaders, or disengagement short of war. In the causal pattern for inadvertent strategic-level escalation, loss of political-level control over tactical-level military operations, global-scale military operations, intense tactical-level military interaction, tactical-level threat perceptions that attack is imminent, and inadvertent incidents with a significant impact on tacticallevel inter-action cause decoupling and the initial engagement. Loss of political-level control over strategic-level military operations, global-scale military operations, a convergent relationship between strategic-level and tactical-level threat perceptions, a lack of escalation-inhibiting factors, and inadvertent incidents with a significant impact on strategic-level military interaction cause tactical-level escalation to result in strategic-level escalation. On the basis of the historical cases examined in this study, a ranking of the six patterns of crisis interaction from most to least likely to occur when U.S. naval forces are employed in a crisis would be parallel stratified interaction, momentary decoupling, decoupled interactions followed by disengagement, inadvertent tactical-level interaction, inadvertent strategic-level interaction, and unified interaction. The conditions that most affect this ranking are political-level control of tactical-level interaction and the strength of the escalation-inhibiting factors. Direct political-level control of tactical-level military operations is difficult for U.S. leaders due to the size and complexity of the U.S. armed forces, making the unified interaction pattern rare and providing ample opportunities for stratified crisis interactions to become decoupled. The escalationinhibiting factors are generally quite strong, preventing escalation even when decoupling occurs—making momentary decoupling and decoupling followed by disengagement much more common than inadvertent tactical-level escalation or inadvertent strategic-level escalation.

215

Findings and Conclusions GENERALITY

OF

FINDINGS

The generality of this study—that is, the applicability of the findings to international crises other than cases that were studied— must be addressed because the cases studies all concerned crisis naval operations. There were three reasons for this focus: the Navy is the branch of the U.S. armed forces called upon most often to respond to crises, American leaders and many analysts perceive naval forces as having important advantages over other types of forces for crisis response, and naval forces appear to have greater crisis stability problems and escalatory potential than do other types of military force. The findings are applicable to a broad range of crisis naval operations. The cases that were studied ranged from large-scale (the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis and the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis) to moderate in scale (the 1967 and 1973 Middle East wars). Because naval forces are the type of force most commonly used by the United States in crises, the findings are directly applicable to most of the crises in which the United States has been involved over the past forty years. The findings are also applicable to most other U.S. crisis operations with conventional forces, including amphibious operations, ground force operations, shore-based air operations, and operations with a combination of forces. The findings are applicable to other U.S. forces because central features of the U.S. command and control system—such as delegation of control and the mechanisms of indirect control—affect tactical-level interaction involving all types of U.S. forces. Additionally, the escalation-inhibiting factors and the conditions that can erode those factors are not unique to naval forces—they would affect the likelihood of escalation regardless of the type of force being employed in a crisis. All forms of tactical-level military interaction can thus be accommodated by the theory. The key to applying the findings to military interactions other than those involving naval forces is to take into account the specific command and control procedures used by other U.S. forces, and the differing warfare environments of other types of forces. For example, the likelihood of inadvertent incidents or initiation of uncontrollable tactical-level escalation would appear to be less with ground forces than with naval forces: national boundaries 216

Findings and Conclusions normally separate the ground forces of the two sides, but on the high seas opposing naval forces are free to intermingle at close quarters. The technology of naval warfare has long placed a premium on striking first in battle (particularly in the age of anti-ship cruise missiles), but the offensive has at times been perceived as enjoying a similar advantage in land warfare. Naval battles tend to be intense but brief—ordnance is rapidly exhausted and losses of ships and planes force disengagement. Once fighting among ground forces has started, it can be more difficult for national leaders to control and less likely to die out without escalation after the initial engagement. In short, relative to naval forces, ground forces are less likely to become engaged in fighting, but are more difficult to disengage after fighting starts. These differences are readily accommodated by the theory. One area to which this study cannot be applied is the employment of strategic nuclear forces as a political instrument in crises. Strategic nuclear forces are under command and control procedures significantly more centralized than those of general purpose forces. While there is, of necessity, significant delegation of authority concerning the details of strategic force operations, decisionmaking authority for employment of nuclear weapons is highly centralized—resting with National Command Authorities. The concepts that were developed in this study could be used to assess strategic level interaction in crises—interaction that can become a significant factor when forces are alerted in order to send political signals—but the contingent generalizations must be modified to account for the unique features of strategic nuclear command and control. The findings can be applied to crises involving countries other than the United States, but care must be taken to account for the different command and control methods and procedures used by other countries and the different strategic environments they face. Differences in command and control philosophies, operational styles, and professional traditions can produce significant differences in the crisis management problems facing different nations.

IMPLICATIONS

FOR CRISIS

MANAGEMENT

Stratified interaction and the findings of this study have several implications for crisis management. The most important is that 217

Findings and Conclusions effectively exercising close control of all crisis military operations can be exceeding difficult in practice. This is an inherent problem that improved communication technology has affected only marginally. Improved communications and information processing systems will be unlikely to overcome the problems that constrain top-level control of military operations. The historical trend has been for increases in the scale, speed, and complexity of warfare to exceed the ability of command and control systems to keep higher level commanders fully in control. 1 Martin Van Creveld reached the same conclusion in his study of command in war: Taken as a whole, present-day military forces, for all the imposing array of electronic gadgetry at their disposal, give no evidence whatsoever of being one whit more capable of dealing with the information needed for the command process than were their predecessors a century or even a millennium ago. Though modern technical means undoubtedly enable present-day command systems to transmit and process more information faster than ever before, regardless of distance, movement and weather, their ability to approach certainty has not improved to any marked extent. Nor, given the fact that this goal has proved elusive through every one of the many revolutions in organization, technology and procedure that have taken place in the past, does there appear to be much hope of achieving it in the foreseeable future. 2 The trend toward complexity is particularly acute in naval operations, which are conducted with a wider array of sensors, platforms, and weapons than any other type of military operation. Modern naval command and control systems add to the complexity of naval warfare, rather than simplifying its control, by allowing a wider variety of weapons covering larger ocean areas to be brought to bear on the enemy. This has led to command and control systems becoming a primary wartime target. 3 The same trend affects command and control in crises. Richard Ned Lebow makes the important point that advances in communications, command and control, and weapons technology have made crisis management more difficult and mishaps more likely. Modern command and control systems are extremely complex, creating countless opportunities for things to go wrong; improved sensors and communications have tightly coupled U.S. and Soviet forces, so that military actions are quickly detected and acted upon; the speed of modern nuciear missiles gives national leaders 218

Findings and Conclusions only minutes to react to warning of an attack, placing great stress on command and control systems. Command and control systems have become less tolerant of error because nuclear missiles cannot be recalled once launched. Lebow concludes that "good crisis management cannot be fabricated from communications nodes, computer software, and special action groups." 4 Increases in the speed and complexity of tactical-level crisis military interaction have exceeded the ability of command and control systems to keep top-level officials fully in control. Despite tremendous advances in communications technology, tactical-level Soviet-American naval interaction in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War was not controlled any closer by the President than was ChineseAmerican naval interaction in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Modern conventional weapons enable inadvertent military incidents to cause significant destruction and loss of life before national leaders can intervene to disengage their forces. The complexity of modern naval warfare requires a high level of concentration and involvement for close control of crisis operations; no President would be willing to neglect the political and diplomatic aspects of crisis management just to control crisis naval operations. There is thus little reason to expect that innovations in communications and information processing systems will solve crisis command and control problems. Several variables affect the ability of top-level political authorities to exercise direct, real-time control of military operations, including the scale of the operations, the nature of the missions, the intensity of interaction with the other side's forces, the pace at which the tactical situation evolves, and the speed and reliability of communications links. As the scale of military operations and the intensity of interactions with the other side increase, there is a tendency for top-level officials to become overloaded and focus their attention on selected, narrow aspects of crisis operations. But tactical-level military interactions are often too fast-paced for top-level officials to exercise direct control over even small-scale local operations. National leaders therefore generally delegate significant discretionary decisionmaking authority to military commanders and rely heavily on mechanisms of indirect control to guide tactical-level decisionmaking. Significant reliance is placed on rules of engagement and the distinction between use of force in self-defense (which on-scene commanders can order) and retaliation (which only the President 219

Findings and Conclusions can order). The crisis management requirement that top-level political authorities maintain close control of military operations thus can be difficult to meet in practice, and attempts to exercise such control can in fact be counterproductive—impeding effective crisis management. An important issue is whether stratified crisis interaction and decoupling of tactical-level interactions from political-level control are strictly symmetrical or can also be asymmetrical. That is, must the conditions necessary for these phenomena to occur be present on both sides in a crisis, or can the phenomena arise when the conditions are present on only one side? The pattern appears to be that stratified interaction tends to be symmetrical (both sides in a crisis normally experience the conditions for stratification), but that decoupling can be either symmetrical or asymmetrical. This has important implications for crisis management. War could arise through a process in which one side has lost effective control of its forces and is experiencing inadvertent escalation, while the other side retains control over its forces and is deliberately escalating the level of violence. This is a more likely and dangerous scenario than one in which symmetrical decoupling occurs and both sides experience inadvertent escalation. Not only can national leaders be overly optimistic about their ability to closely control crisis military operations, they can also be overly optimistic about their ability to use military force—or the threat of military force—as a precision instrument for political signaling. In some circumstances, particularly when the scope and intensity of military operations are relatively small, national leaders can be highly discriminating in the manipulation of forces for signaling. But as the scope and intensity of operations increase, military forces become an increasingly unwieldy political instrument. In addition to the control problems mentioned above, this is caused by the scale, speed and complexity of modern combat. If military operations are to be conducted effectively, whether their purpose is to send a political signal or to achieve a military objective, they must be conducted in accordance with the operational principles on which their effectiveness depends. Those principles often have a great deal of flexibility, but attempting to bend them excessively in an attempt at sophisticated political signaling can create serious problems for tactical-level military commanders — a n example of the tension between political and military considerations. Such problems arose during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 220

Findings and Conclusions when the Sixth Fleet was placed in a situation of grave vulnerability to preemption by Soviet naval forces in the Mediterranean—a situation created by White House efforts to use the fleet for political signaling. Efforts by U.S. on-scene commanders to cope with their vulnerability created a situation in which the naval forces of the two sides were constantly targeting each other at point blank range, and were at hair-trigger readiness to launch preemptive strikes against each other. National leaders must expect that at least some things will go wrong when they employ military forces in crises. Inadvertent military incidents of various types occur in virtually all crisis military operations. The friction Clausewitz observed in war begins as soon as military forces are set in motion, and long before the first shot is fired. Although inadvertent military incidents are unavoidable, they generally are not particularly dangerous. The tendency is for inadvertent incidents to provoke highly cautious reactions on the part of on-scene commanders. At least in naval operations, when engagements occur, they tend to end quickly rather than escalate. In fact, because on-scene commanders are almost always better informed on the local tactical situation, they are less likely to overreact or make worse case assumptions than are top-level authorities. There is normally a requirement that on-scene commanders consult with higher authority after taking initial defensive action, and a tendency for them to do so even when it is not required The military chain of command tends to double-check the accuracy of initial reports before ordering further military operations. Thus, the most important action that national leaders can take when an inadvertent military incident occurs is not to seize direct control of tactical decisions, but rather to focus on communicating with the other side in order to avoid misperceptions of the incident. A further implication of the findings of this study for crisis management, one certainly not anticipated when the study was launched, is that the greatest danger of a crisis escalating to war may well arise from decisionmaking at the political level of interaction, rather than from decision-making at the tactical level of interaction. Parallel stratified interaction—tactical-level interaction that generally supports political objectives even though not directly controlled by national leaders—was found to be the most common pattern of crisis military interaction. When tactical-level interactions become decoupled from political-level objectives, the most 221

Findings and Conclusions common patterns are momentary decoupling and decoupling followed by disengagement, rather than escalation. Tactical-level military engagements tend to lose momentum as on-scene commanders reach the limit of their authority and seek guidance from higher authority. The implication of these findings is that tactical-level military interaction normally will not escalate to war without a deliberate decision by national leaders. The deliberate decision could well be based on misperceptions of the adversary's intentions—misperceptions influenced by inadvertent tactical-level escalation—but the decision for war is still a deliberate decision made by national leaders. The strategic, political, psychological, and cognitive factors that can cause national leaders to abandon diplomatic efforts and resort to war—whether reluctantly or eagerly—are by far the most important factors affecting the success of crisis management and escalation control efforts. The most dangerous type of crisis arises when external escalation-inhibiting factors between the two sides are weak or nonexistent. The external factors are tacit rules of crisis behavior observed by the two sides and communications between the two sides during a crisis. Though not without flaws, tacit rules of crisis behavior and communications channels were found to be well developed between the United States and the Soviet Union. The greatest danger of inadvertent military incidents and tactical-level escalation arises in confrontations with nations with which the United States does not share tacit rules of crisis behavior or efficient communication channels, like Libya, Iran, and North Korea. In such confrontations, both sides are generally restricted to slow, imprecise, and easily misperceived means of conveying political signals. This can preclude both sides from averting tactical-level military clashes. In summary, stratified interaction provides a policy-relevant explanation of how tactical-level military interaction affects crisis stability. The patterns of crisis military interaction derived in this study allow policymakers to diagnose specific situations in which crisis stability problems can arise and lead to inadvertent escalation.

222

NOTES

INTRODUCTION 1. For examples of such concerns, see George, "The Development of Doctrine and Strategy," p. 14; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," p. 40; Williams, Crisis Management, p. 202; Lebow, Between Peace and War, p. 287; George, "Crisis Management," pp. 227—28; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts ," pp. 99-139; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability, pp. 6-7; Winham, "Introduction," pp. 6 - 7 . 2. This distinction was pointed out to the author by Alexander L. George. 3. Scott Sagan refers to this as the operational dimension of crisis management. See Sagan, Managing Strategic Nuclear Alert Operations, pp. 1-5. 4. Lebow, Between Peace and War, pp. 1—4. Also see Frei, Risks of Unintentional Nuclear War, pp. 8-10. 5. See Bracken, Command and Control, pp. 48—73; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 75-103; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," pp. 34-49; George, "Crisis Management," pp. 227-28; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 99-139; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 94-101; Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," pp. 129-31. 6. George and Smoke, Deterrence in American Foreign Policy, pp. 509-12; George, "Case Studies and Theory Development," pp. 59-60. 7. I exclude the 1964 Tonkin Gulf Incident as a crisis that escalated to war because it did not lead to immediate and sustained U.S. intervention in the war. Although the U.S. commenced bombing North Vietnam after the incident, the bombings were in retaliation for subsequent attacks on U.S. forces in the South. Significant escalation of the U.S. role in the war, in the form of ground combat troops, did not occur until seven months after the Tonkin Gulf Incident. The decisions to escalate the U.S. role were made after months of deliberation, not under conditions of crisis. 8. Blechman and Kaplan, Force Without War, pp. 38-44; Zelikow, "Force Without War," pp. 29-54. Percentages do not add up to 100 due to more than one type of force being used in some crises. 223

Introduction 9. Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 43-55; Snyder and Diesing, Conflict Among Nations, pp. 450-62; Lambeth, "Political Potential," pp. 22-39; Lebow, Between Peace and War, pp. 273-81 ; Blechman and Hart, "The Political Utility of Nuclear Weapons," pp. 132-156; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 99-139; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, pp. 180-211; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 70-74. 10. Blechman and Kaplan, Force Without War, pp. 127-29. 11. This definition of inadvertent escalation encompasses two paths to war identified by Lebow: loss of control and miscalculated escalation. See Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 25-28, 75-76, 104. 12. For a discussion of spiral theories of escalation, see Jervis, Perception and Misperception, pp. 58-113. 13. Smoke, War, pp. 23-35, 268—97. Also see Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 97, 101. 14. See Bell, The Conventions of Crisis, pp. 14-15; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, p. 24. 15. M a r t i n , The Sea in Modern Strategy,

p. 67; B o o t h , Navies

and

Foreign Policy, pp. 33-35; Bull, "Sea Power and Political Influence," p. 8.

16. Cable, Gunboat Diplomacy, p. 67; Luttwak, Political Uses, p. 1; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, p. 71. For an illustration of the range of options that naval forces provide the President in a crisis, see Floyd D. Kennedy, Jr.'s description of the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis in "The Creation of the Cold War Navy, 1953-1962," in Hagan, éd., In Peace and War, pp. 316-17. 17. Martin, pp. 143, 146; Cable, p. 67; Luttwak, p. 1. The superiority of naval forces over land-based troops and aircraft was clearly demonstrated during the 1958 Lebanon Crisis, when Marines were landed with carrier air cover exactly when the President specified with only twelve hours' notice. Severe logistical problems delayed the deployment of Air Force and Army units to the theater. See Kennedy, pp. 320-22. 18. Osgood and Tucker, Force, Order and Justice, pp. 2-40. U.S. naval officers, in somewhat less analytic terms, had been asserting the existence of a "regulated" strategic environment for some time. See Burke, "The U.S. Navy's Role," pp. 7-11. 19. Nathan and Oliver, The Future of United States Naval Power, pp. 17-18, 35. Also see Burke, pp. 9-11; and Chase, "Functions of the Navy," pp. 30-32. Chase's description of Pax Ballistica is essentially the same as the regulated strategic environment described by Osgood and Tucker, but preceded it by a decade. 20. Cable, p. 28. 21. Commander Dennis R. Neutze, a Navy lawyer, has suggested that the 1973 War Powers Act, which requires the President to consult

224

Introduction with Congress when U.S. forces are introduced into hostilities or a situation of imminent involvement in hostilities, makes naval forces preferable to land-based forces. Because naval forces can be deployed near the scene of a conflict without actually being introduced into hostilities, they do not activate the consultation requirement or the sixty-day limit in the War Powers Act until hostilities are actually initiated. See Neutze, "Bluejacket Diplomacy," pp. 133-34. Although his argument has merit, presidents have tended in practice to ignore the War Powers Act when compliance with it would have interfered with their policy objectives—much to the displeasure of Congress. 22. Turner, "Missions of the U.S. Navy," p. 14. 23. Booth, p. 27; Nathan and Oliver, p. 77. 24. Nathan and Oliver, pp. 78-79. Also see Luttwak, pp. 12-13. 25. Booth, pp. 27, 32, 42; Luttwak, p. 6. 26. Hughes, Fleet Tactics, pp. 34-39; Hughes, "Naval Tactics and Their Influence on Strategy," pp. 10-11. 27. Andrews, "The Prevention of Preemptive Attack," p. 128. 28. Kidd, "View From the Bridge," pp. 18-29; Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 300-301; Turner and Thibault, "Countering the Soviet Threat," pp. 25-32; Parker, "Thinking Offensively," pp. 26-31; Ruhe, "Antiship Missiles," pp. 60-65; Watkins, "The Maritime Strategy," p. 9; Andrews, "The Prevention of Preemptive Attack," pp. 126-39. 29. Gorshkov, Red Star Rising, pp. 131-32; Petersen, "About-Face," pp. 57-63; Gregory, "Their Tattletales," pp. 97-99; Zimm, "The First Salvo," pp. 55-60; Fitzgerald, "Blitzkrieg at Sea," pp. 33-38. 30. Train, "Decision Making and Managing Ambiguity," p. 306. 31. See George, "The 'Operational Code'," pp. 190-222; Steinbruner, Cybernetic Theory, pp. 88-139; Halperin, Bureaucratic Politics, p. 28; Jervis, Perception and Misperception, pp. 117-202; Snyder, The Ideology of the Offensive, pp. 26-30; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp.76-79. 32. See Chase, "Functions of the Navy," pp. 27-33. Also see Carrison, The United States Navy, pp. 36-55. 33. Turner, pp. 2-17. 34. Ibid., pp. 14-15. 35. Ibid. 36. McGruther, "The Role of Perception," pp. 12-14. 37. McNulty, "Naval Presence," p. 28. 38. Watkins, "Maritime Strategy," pp. 4-17; Admiral James D. Watkins, "Posture Statement by the Chief of Naval Operations," U.S. Congress, Senate Armed Services Committee, Department of Defense Authorization for Appropriation for Fiscal Year 1987, pp. 1087-8 (hereafter cited as Watkins, "Posture Statement FY-87"); Brooks, "Naval Power and National Security," pp. 58-88.

225

1. Use of Force in Crises 39. Watkins, "Posture Statement FY-87," pp. 1100-02. 40. Martin, p. 143. Luttwak, p. 23, refers to this phenomenon as a "duality of mission requirements." 41. George, "Crisis Management," p. 226. An earlier version of this list appeared in George, "The Development of Doctrine and Strategy," pp.8-11. 42. "The 'Phantom Battle' that Led to War,'' p. 66. 43. Quester, "Naval Armaments," pp. 6 - 7 . 44. Borawski, "Risk Reduction at Sea," p. 18. It must be noted that Liberty was not sunk in the attack. 45. Lynn-Jones, "A Quiet Success for Arms Control," p. 164. 46. Ball, "Nuclear War at Sea," pp. 28-29. Also see Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 88-90; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 6, 281, 314-15. 47. Ball, pp. 4-28. Also see Posen, "Inadvertent Nuclear War?" pp. 28-54; Grove, "The Maritime Strategy," pp. 34-44. 48. Watkins, "Maritime Strategy," pp. 4-14; Brooks, pp. 58-59, 65-69. 49. Watkins, "Maritime Strategy," pp. 8-11. 50. Ibid., p. 9. 51. See Hill, Maritime Strategy for Medium Powers, pp. 127-128; Gallery, The Pueblo Incident, pp. 24-26; Pocalyko, "25 Years After the Blink," p. 43. 52. Parker, p. 29. Also see Friedman, "The Rules of Engagement Issue," in Gueritz, NATO's Maritime Strategy, pp. 25-32. 1. USE OF FORCE IN

CRISES

t. See Bracken, Command and Control, pp. 212-37; George, "Crisis Management," pp. 223-34; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 99-139; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 75-103; Sagan, Accidents at the Brink, pp. 1-22. 2. McClelland, "The Acute International Crisis," pp. 182-205. 3. Young, The Politics of Force, p. 15. 4. Snyder and Diesing, Conflict Among Nations, p. 6. Also see Williams, Crisis Management, p. 25; Brecher, Decisions in Crisis, p. 1; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability, p. 260; Winham, "Introduction," p. 4; Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," p. 122. 5. Some researchers have identified surprise, shortness of duration, and national leaders perceiving themselves as acting under time constraints as features of acute international crises. See Holsti, Crisis Escalation War, pp. 9-10; Hermann, "Some Issues in the Study of International Crisis," p. 13; Lebow, Between Peace and War, pp. 10-12; Brecher, p. 1; Young, The Politics of Force, p. 15; Williams, Crisis Management, p. 25. These features are not crucial to the definition of acute international crisis used in this study. 226

I. Use of Force in Crises 6. Schelling, The Strategy of Conflict, pp. 187-203; Snyder, "Crisis Bargaining," in Hermann, ed.. International Crises, pp. 217-56. 7. Coral Bell refers to this as an "adverse partnership," which is marked by "solid common interests as well as sharp conflicting interests." See Bell, The Conventions of Crisis, p. 50. 8. Bell, p. 7; Williams, Crisis Management, p. 24; Snyder and Diesing, p. 7. 9. Snyder and Diesing, pp. 11-17. 10. Le bow, Between Peace and War, pp. 23-97. Le bow states that the 1905 Dogger Bank Incident was an accidental crisis. See his "Accidents and Crises," pp. 66-75. 11. Allison, Essence of Decision, pp. 78-96, 162-181. 12. Krasner, "Are Bureaucracies Important?," pp. 159-79; Art, "Bureaucratic Politics and American Foreign Policy," pp. 467-90; Hafner, "Bureaucratic Politics and 'Those Frigging Missiles'," pp. 307-33; Bernstein, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," p. 103. 13. George, Presidential Decisionmaking, pp. 114-16. 14. Barnard, The Functions of the Executive, pp. 231-2. 15. Downs, Inside Bureaucracy, p. 134. 16. Sutherland, Administrative Decision-Making, p. 277. 17. Galbrailh, Organization Design, pp. 43-44. 18. Ibid., p. 44. This is similar to Sutherland, p. 277. 19. Galbraith, p. 46. In practice, at least a small amount of discretion is allowed under rule-governed delegation—even if only discretion to determine which rules are applicable in specific situations— and at least minimal rules govern discretionary delegation. Thus, it is more accurate to portray delegation of decisionmaking as a spectrum ranging from highly rule-governed to highly discretionary, rather than as a dichotomy between the two types. 20. Tullock, The Politics of Bureaucracy, pp. 142-93; Downs, pp. 134-35. 21. Reeves and Woodward, "The Study of Managerial Control," pp. 37-56; Ouchi, "A Conceptual Framework," pp. 833-48. Also see Galbraith, pp. 45-6; Stinchcombe, "Bureaucratic and Craft Administration," pp.168-87. 22. Peterson, "Mechanisms of Administrative Control," p. 573. 23. Lortie, "The Balance of Control and Autonomy," pp. 1-53; Weick, "Educational Organizations," pp. 1-19; Peterson, pp. 573-97. 24. See Merchant, "The Control Function of Management," pp. 4 3 55; Hill and Pickering, "Divisonalization, Decentralization and Performance," pp. 26-50; Lebas and Weigenstein, "Management Control," pp. 259-72; Govindarajan, "Decentralization, Strategy, and Effectiveness," pp. 844-856. 25. Lipsky, "Standing the Study," p. 397. Also see Pressman and Wildavsky, Implementation, p. xxi. 227

1. Use of Force in Crises 26. Allison, pp. 85-87. 27. Exceptions include Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," pp. 34—49; Bracken, Command and Control, pp. 48-73; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 99-139; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 75-103; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 94-101, 260-77. 28. Although this study is limited to interactions among military forces, the stratified interaction model can be applied to any organization that is sufficiently large and complex that top-level decisionmakers are incapable of exercising continuous direct control of its myriad interactions with the environment. Thus, in the U.S. government, the stratified interaction model could apply to the Department of State and other large departments as well as to the Department of Defense. The model could also apply to large corporations and universities. 29. Bracken, Command and Control, p. 8. On Soviet forces, also see Rice, "The Party, the Military," pp. 55—81; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 133-41. 30. This is the assumption that is made in the "unitary actor" model of national behavior. For example, see Bueno de Mesquita, The War Trap, pp. 20-23. 31. On organizational ideology see Selznick, TVA and the Grass Roots, pp. 47-50; Downs, Inside Bureaucracy, pp. 237-46; Halperin, Bureaucratic Politics, pp. 26-8. On military doctrine as a belief system, see Betts, Soldiers, Statesmen, pp. 115-26. On cognitive limits on decisionmaking, see Simon, "A Behavioral Model of Rational Choice," in Simon, ed.. Models of Man, pp. 241—60; March and Simon, Organizations, chapter 6; Simon, "Theories of Decision-Making," pp. 253-83; Cyert and March, A Behavioral Theory of the Firm, pp. 116-25; Steinbruner, Cybernetic Theory, pp. 88-139. On methods of coping with cognitive limits, see George, Presidential Decisionmaking, pp. 25-53. 32. Bracken, pp. 54-65. 33. Ibid., pp. 59-60. 34. Ibid., pp. 64-65. 35. Williams, Crisis Management, p. 30. Also see Richardson, "Crisis Management," pp. 14-17. 36. Snyder and Diesing, Conflict Among Nations, p. 207. 37. Williams, Crisis Management, p. 29; Snyder, "Crisis Bargaining," p. 240; Snyder and Diesing, p. 270. 38. See Young, The Politics of Force, pp. 96-115; Williams, pp. 94134; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," pp. 34-49; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 75-103; Gottfried and Blair, p. 3; Richardson, pp. 18-19. 39. Young, The Politics of Force, pp. 19-20; Williams, Crisis Management, p. 26; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 260-61, 274-77; Winham, pp. 6-7. 40. Schelling, Arms and Influence, p. 97. 228

1. Use of Force in Crises 41. Snyder, "Crisis Bargaining," pp. 244-45. 42. Bell, p. 73. 43. George, "Crisis Management," pp. 229-33. 44. Bell, p. 49. 45. George, "Crisis Management," p. 226. An earlier version of this list appeared in his "The Development of Doctrine and Strategy," pp. 8-11. Also see Holsti, pp. 221-26; Richardson, pp. 17-23. 46. George, "Crisis Management," pp. 223-34. 47. Ibid., p. 233. Also see Lebow, "Clausewitz, Loss of Control," pp. 41-48; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 274-77. 48. Lockhart, Bargaining in International Conflicts, pp. 37-87; Holsti, pp. 7-25; Snyder and Diesing, pp. 340-418; Lebow, Between Peace and War, pp. 148-228. 49. Kaufmann, The Requirements of Deterrence, pp. 6-8; Kissinger, The Necessity for Choice, pp. 40-41; George and Smoke, Deterrence in American Foreign Policy, pp. 64, 550-65; Schelling, Arms and Influence, pp. 36-43, 49-50; Lebow, Between Peace and War, pp. 82-90; Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," p. 123. On extended deterrence, see Brodie, Strategy in the Missile Age, pp. 252-55; and Schilling, et al., American Arms, pp. 5-15. 50. See Snyder, Deterrence and Defense, pp. 14-16; Snyder, Deterrence by Denial and Punishment, p. 1; Quester, Deterrence Before Hiroshima, pp. 2-4. 51. Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p. 37. Also see Afheldt, "Tactical Nuclear Weapons and European Security," p. 273; Steinbruner, "National Security and the Concept of Strategic Stability," pp. 411-28; Frei, Risks of Unintentional Nuclear War, p. 10; Schelling, "Arrangements for Reciprocal Reassurance," pp. 123-25; Gottfried and Blair, p. 4. 52. Brodie, Strategy in the Missile Age, pp. 300-03; Holsti, pp. 22833; Schelling, Arms and Influence, pp. 224-25, 234-35; Lebow, Between Peace and War, pp. 238-42; Frei, Risks of Unintentional Nuclear War, p. 5; Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," p. 123. 53. Steinbruner, "National Security and the Concept of Strategic Stability," p. 413; Williams, "Crisis Management," pp. 33-39; Brewer and Bracken, "Some Missing Pieces of the C 3 I Puzzle," pp. 451-69; Blair, Strategic Command and Control, pp. 284-85; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 94-101 ; Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," pp. 129-31. 54. George, conversation with the author. 55. George, "Crisis Management," p. 226. 56. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 25-28, 163. He refers to these as "paths to war." Also see Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," p. 124. 57. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 35-37, 75-76, 104. Also see Lebow, "Clausewitz, Loss of Control," pp. 50—58. Lebow's concept 229

I. Use of Force in Crises of miscalculated escalation is similar to Richard Smoke's concept of "latent motives or interests" inadvertently activated by an escalatory step intended to have been cautious. See Smoke, War, pp. 245-48. 58. Butterfield, History and Human Relations, pp. 19-20. 59. Jervis, "Cooperation Under the Security Dilemma," p. 169. 60. Ibid., pp. 167-214. 61. Ibid., p. 188. Also see Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," p. 123; Gottfried and Blair, p. 6. 62. This is derived from Schelling's description of how weaponry influences the nature of crises and the processes by which wars start: "To impute this influence to 'weaponry' is to focus too narrowly on technology. It is weapons, organization, plans, geography, communications, warning systems, intelligence, and even beliefs and doctrines about the conduct of war that together have this influence." Arms and Influence, p. 234. 63. This was the situation in 1914, when the "cult of the offensive" contributed to a relatively minor incident escalating to war. See Van Evera, "The Cult of the Offensive," pp. 58-107; Snyder, "Civil-Military Relations," pp. 108-146. 64. Sagan refers to this as the operational dimension of crisis stability. See Sagan, Managing Strategic Nuclear Alert Operations, pp. 1-5. 65. Pruitt, "Definition of the Situation," pp. 403-04. 66. Lebow discounts the possibility of premeditated, catalytic, or accidental war, and emphasizes three paths to war: preemption, loss of control, and miscalculated escalation. See Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 23-27. The loss of control and miscalculated escalation paths to war are encompassed in the concept of inadvertent escalation used in this study. Also see Schelling, "Arrangements for Reciprocal Reassurance," pp. 123—25; Hermann, "Enhancing Crisis Stability," p. 122. 67. See Schelling and Halperin, Strategy and Arms Control, pp. 1017; Kahn, On Escalation, pp. 284-6; Allison, Camesale, and Nye, "Introduction," in Allison, Carnesale, and Nye, eds., Hawks, Doves & Owls, pp. 10-13. The 1989 Pugwash Workshop on accidental nuclear war defined accidental war as prompt launch of a retaliatory nuclear strike based on misinterpretation of tactical warning that the adversary has launched a nuclear attack. See Gottfried and George, "Accidental Nuclear War," p. 2. This falls under the definition of accidental war used in this study. 68. Schelling, Arms and Influence, p. 227; Bracken, "Accidental War," in Allison, Carnesale, and Nye, eds., Hawks, Doves & Owls, pp. 25-49; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 25-27, 75; Sagan, Accidents at the Brink, pp. 1-22. 69. Schelling, Arms and Influence, pp. 224-27; Allison, Carnesale and Nye, pp. 10-13; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 31-74. 230

1. Use of Force in Crises 70. Derived from Bracken, "Accidental War," pp. 29-37. 71. Sands, "Information Exchange and Inadvertent War," in Phelps, Russett, Sands, and Schwartz, "Studies on Accidental War," pp. 2-5. Also see Gottfried and Blair, p. 7. 72. See Gottfried and George, "Accidental Nuclear War," p. 2. 73. Posen, "Inadvertent Nuclear War?" p. 29. 74. Quoted in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p. 281. 75. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 25-28, 75-76, 104. 76. For a discussion of spiral theories of escalation, see Jervis, Perception and Misperception, pp. 58-113. 77. Smoke, War, pp. 23-35, 268-97. Also see Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 97, 101; Lebow, "Clausewitz, Loss of Control," p. 43. 78. Bell, pp. 14-5. Also see Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, p. 24; Van Evera, "Cult of the Offensive," pp. 58-107; Snyder, "CivilMilitary Relations," pp. 108-46. 79. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, p. 27. 80. Williams, Crisis Management, p. 100. Two factors mentioned by Williams—military forces operating in close proximity to those of the opponent and at great geographical distance from policymakers—are a good description of typical naval operations in crises. The one qualification that must be put on his analysis is that the on-scene military commander need not be over-zealous for an armed clash to erupt; even a cautious commander attempting to act with restraint could become involved in an outbreak of violence that national leaders did not desire or anticipate. 81. See Van Creveld, Command in War, pp. 12—13. 82. See Sagan, Accidents at the Brink, pp. 1-22. 83. Eliot A. Cohen, "Why We Should Stop Studying the Cuban Missile Crisis," p. 8. Cohen goes on to argue that despite this, accidents, misperceptions, and the like are not likely to cause crises to escalate to wars. 84. Blight, Nye, and Welch, "The Cuban Missile Crisis Revisited," p. 186. 85. Williams, Crisis Management, p. 202. 86. Lebow, Between Peace and War, p. 287. Also see Pakenham, "The Command and Control of Naval Operations," p. 50. 87. On the Liberty incident, see chapter 5 of this study. On the U-2 incident, see Hilsman, To Move A Nation, p. 221. 88. See George, "The Development of Doctrine and Strategy," pp. 8-15; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," p. 40; Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 94-134; Lebow, Between Peace and War, p. 287; George, "Crisis Management," pp. 227-28. 89. For commentary on this lack of attention, see Beaumont, "Command Method," pp. 61-74; Van Creveld, Command in War, p. 11. On the role of command and control systems in crisis management, see 231

I. Use of Force in Crises Bobrow, "Communications, Command, and Control," in Stern, ed., The Limits of Military Intervention, pp. 101-20; Williams, "Crisis Management," pp. 33-9; Brewer and Bracken, "Some Missing Pieces of the C3I Puzzle," pp. 451-69. On how operational problems with command and control of nuclear forces can affect crisis management, see Miller, "Existing Systems of Command and Control," in Griffiths and Polanyi, eds., The Dangers of Nuclear War, pp. 50-66; Carter, "Communications Technologies and Vulnerabilities," in Carter, Steinbruner and Zraket, eds., Managing Nuclear Operations, pp. 257—81; Bracken, Command and Control, pp. 48-73, 220-37; Blair, Strategic Command and Control, pp. 207-11, 281-303; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts and Crisis Management," pp. 99-139; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability and Nuclear War, pp. 92-125,314-20. 90. Zuckerman, "Judgement and Control," pp. 203-5; Creveld, pp. 236-37. 91. Poe, "Command and Control," pp. 23-4; Beaumont, "The Paradoxes of C 3 ," in Buck and Korb, eds., Military Leadership, pp. 123-24; Posen, "Inadvertent Nuclear War," pp. 28-54; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," p. 40; Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 94—134; Lebow, Between Peace and War, p. 287. 92. See George, "Development of Doctrine and Strategy," pp. 8-15; George, "Crisis Management," pp. 227-28; Head, Short and McFarlane, Crisis Resolution, pp. 246-51. 93. For a discussion of the force multiplier concept, see Beaumont, "The Paradoxes of C 3 ," pp. 116-20. 94. Luttwak, Strategy, p. 13. On the limitations on top-level decisionmakers, see May, "Eisenhower and After," in May, ed., The Ultimate Decision, pp. 233-35; Pakenham, "The Command and Control of Naval Operations," p. 50; Beaumont, "Command Method," pp. 65-7; Beaumont, "The Paradoxes of C \ " p. 133; Van Creveld, pp. 247-51; Poe, pp. 28-9. On the superiority of on-scene commanders, see Hadd, "Orders Firm But Flexible," pp. 87-8; Hayward, "An Ex-CNO's Reflection," in March and Weissinger-Baylon, eds., Ambiguity and Command, p. 267; Horowitz, "Flexible Responsiveness and Military Strategy," pp. 191-205; Von Lossow, "Mission-Type Tactics," pp. 87-91; Beaumont, "The Paradoxes of C 3 ," pp. 123, 133; Van Creveld, pp. 269-70; Poe, pp. 28-9; Train, "Decision Making and Managing Ambiguity," in March and Weissinger-Baylon, eds.. Ambiguity and Command, pp. 302-3; Blair, Strategic Command and Control, p. 75. 95. Metcalf, "Decision Making in the Grenada Rescue Operation," in March and Weissinger-Baylon, eds., Ambiguity and Command, pp. 281-2. Also see Poe, p. 28, on flexible command procedures. 96. U.S. Department of the Navy, United States Navy Regulations, 1948, p. 75; U.S. Department of the Navy, United States Navy Regulations, 1973, p. 13. 232

2. Stratified Crisis

Interaction

97. Ibid. 98. For examples of naval commanders exercising such authority, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 204-11. 99. See Kruzel, "Military Alerts and Diplomatic Signals," in Stern, ed., The Limits of Military Intervention, pp. 83-99; Blair, "Alerting in Crisis and Conventional War," in Carter, Steinbruner and Zraket, eds., Managing Nuclear Operations, pp. 75-120; JCS SM-833-59, August 25, 1959; JCS 1968/84, Record Group 218, JCS Records, National Archives, Washington, DC; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 100-35. 100. For details on contingency planning, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 223-33. 101. Roach, "Rules of Engagement," pp. 46—48. The official JCS definition is that they are "directives issued by competent authority which delineate the circumstances and limitations under which United States forces will initiate and/or continue combat engagement with other forces encountered." Joint Chiefs of Staff, Department of Defense Directory of Military and Associated Terms, p. 298. 102. Roach, p. 47. Also see Hill, Maritime Strategy, p. 127. 103. For detailed analyses of rules of engagement, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 235-90; Hayes, "Naval Rules of Engagement," pp. 1-36.

2. STRATIFIED CRISIS INTERACTION 1. Hines and Petersen, "Changing the Soviet System of Control," pp. 281-89; U.S. Department of Defense, Soviet Military Power, pp. 6 0 64; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability, pp. 16-17, 133-41. Since 1989, political changes in the Soviet Union have increased the importance of government positions, such as the president, and reduced the role of Communist Party bodies, such as the Politburo. 2. Ibid. Also see Rice, "The Party, The Military," pp. 55-81. Dr. Rice describes the Soviet military decisionmaking system as "loosely coupled": "one in which the leadership concentrates on setting the broad outlines of policy while option formation and implementation are left to the professional core." Although she suggests (p. 78) that Soviet decisionmaking on crisis military operations is not necessarily loosely coupled, the organizational structures and military prerogatives she describes support the contention that stratified interaction could arise in a crisis involving Soviet forces. 3. This is a simplification of the interaction loop used by Bracken, Command and Control, p. 62. 4. On incidents at sea and other Soviet-American tactical-level interaction, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 300-75. 5. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, p. 76. 6. See Wohlstetter, Pearl Harbor, p. 394; Wilensky, Organizational 233

2. Stratified Crisis

Interaction

Intelligence, chapter 3; Downs, Inside Bureaucracy, p. 75; Holsti, Crisis Escalation War, pp. 104-18; George, Presidential Decisionmaking, pp. 121-36; Hinkly, "National Security in the Information Age," pp. 12540; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 8 2 - 8 3 . 7. Bell The Conventions of Crisis, pp. 88-89. Also see March and Simon, Organizations, chapter 6; Cyert and March, A Behavioral Theory of the Firm, pp. 118-22; Steinbruner, The Cybernetic Theory, pp. 72-74; Bell, "Decision-Making by Governments," pp. 50-58; Frei, Risks of Unintentional Nuclear War, pp. 109—33; George, Presidential Decisionmaking, pp. 25-53; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 142-47; Gottfried a n d Blair, pp. 265-68. 8. Scott D. Sagan has suggested that this was the case with the scope of U.S. Navy anti-submarine warfare operations during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 117-18. 9. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 75-76; Lebow, "Clausewitz, Loss of Control," pp. 5 0 - 5 8 . 10. Bracken, pp. 64—65. In this example, actions taken by the commanders of one side's strategic forces intended to reduce the vulnerability of those forces are quickly detected by the c o m m a n d e r s of the other side's strategic forces, who cannot distinguish those actions from preparations for offensive action, and must therefore take actions to decrease the vulnerability and increase the readiness of their own forces. 11. See chapter 6. 12. On escalation processes, see Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 97. 101; Jervis, Perception and Misperception, pp. 58-113; Smoke, War, pp. 23-35, 268-97; Snyder, "Crisis Bargaining," p. 241; Bell, The Conventions of Crisis, pp. 14-15; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 75-103. 13. On military evasion of civilian control as a source of inadvertent escalation, see Posen, "Inadvertent Nuclear War?" pp. 3 1 - 3 2 . For a description of the accidental war thesis, see Bracken, "Accidental War," pp. 2 5 - 5 3 . 14. The mutually reinforcing alert described by Paul Bracken is an extreme example of this. See Bracken, Command and Control, pp. 6 4 65. 15. The concept is derived from Alexander L. George's "interaction of political and military considerations." See George, "Crisis Management," p p . 2 2 3 - 3 4 . 16. Schelling, Arms and Influence, p. 47; Kissinger, Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policy, p. 242; Snyder, Deterrence and Defense, pp. 130-31; Freedman, The Evolution of Nuclear Strategy, pp. 90, 290-91. 17. On tensions affecting strategic nuclear forces, see Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts and Crisis Management," pp. 99-139; Bracken, Command

234

3. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis and Control, pp. 196-202, 224-32; Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp.31-74. 18. On NATO, see Treverton, "Global Threats and Trans-Atlantic Allies," pp. 142-58; Kolodziej, "Europe: The Partial Partner," pp. 10431; Kaiser, "NATO Strategy," pp. 69-82. On the NATO out-of-area issue, see DePort, "The North Atlantic Alliance," pp. 71-79; Tow, "NATO's Out-of-Region Challenges," pp. 839-40. 19. Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 99-139; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," pp. 34-49. 3. THE 1958 TAIWAN STRAIT

CRISIS

1. U.S. Department of State, American Foreign Policy, 1950-55, pp. 2486-87. 2. Chang, "To the Nuclear Brink," pp. 102, 104, 120. 3. Quoted in Howe, Multicrises, p. 170. Also see Eisenhower, The White House Years, pp. 293-95; Greenstein, The Hidden-Hand Presidency. pp. 20-24; Howe, pp. 167-72, 184-93; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, pp.60-61. 4. Eisenhower, p. 296; Tsou, "The Quemoy Imbroglio," pp. 107577; Sigal, "The 'Rational Policy' Model," pp. 126-27; George and Smoke, Deterrence in American Foreign Policy, pp. 369-70; Gordon, "United States Opposition to Use of Force," pp. 640-44; Howe, pp. 173-76. 5. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 8 - 1 2 ; Gurtov and Hwang, China Under Threat, pp. 79-81. These two studies disagree as to whether Nationalist military activities on the offshore islands contributed to precipitating the crisis. Gurtov and Hwang contend that Nationalist activities during the first half of 1958 were a serious provocation. Halperin contends that the level of Nationalist activities had actually declined, and were much less provocative in 1958 than in earlier years. The evidence supports Halperin's view, but the low level Nationalist military operations that were being conducted probably were an annoyance to the Communist Chinese. 6. Gurtov and Hwang, pp. 75-83. 7. "Chinese Communists Shell Quemoys in Record Attack," New York Times, August 24, 1958, p. 1; Halperin and Tsou, "The 1958 Quemoy Crisis," pp. 274-75; Whiting, "Quemoy 1958: Mao's Miscalculations," pp. 265—66; Hinton, China s Turbulent Quest, p. 91; George and Smoke, pp. 371-73. 8. Zagoria, The Sino-Soviet Conflict, pp. 206-8; George and Smoke, pp. 371-76; Halperin and Tsou, "The 1958 Quemoy Crisis," p. 275; Whiting, "Quemoy 1958," pp. 264-67; Sigal, pp. 142-44; Gurtov and Hwang, pp. 92-94; Gordon, p. 645; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, p. 68. 9. George and Smoke, p. 370. Gurtov and Hwang, p. 91, reject the

235

3. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis probe thesis. They are correct in contending that it was not Peking's objective simply to test American resolve, but the ambiguity of the American commitment to Quemoy made such a test an important element in the Communist Chinese strategy. 10. Tsou, "Mao's Limited War," pp. 338-41; George and Smoke, pp. 365, 373-75; Zagoria, pp. 206-8; Stolper, China, Taiwan, and the Offshore Islands, pp. 86-87. The strategy employed by the Communist Chinese in the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis is an example of the approach to use of force they employed from 1950 onward. See Greene, U.S. Policy, pp. 202-24; Whiting, "The Use of Force in Foreign Policy," pp. 55-66; Whiting, The Chinese Calculus of Deterrence, pp. 196-223; Chan, "Chinese Conflict Calculus and Behavior," pp. 391-410; Ross, "Chinese Conflict Management," pp. 13-25. 11. Tsou, "Mao's Limited War," p. 341. 12. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers: The Last Testament, pp. 261-63; Thomas, "Soviet Behavior," pp. 38-64; Hsieh, Communist China's Strategy, pp. 123-27; Halperin and Tsou, "The 1958 Quemoy Crisis," pp. 278-86; Zagoria, 211-17; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, pp. 7 2 75. 13. See "Dulles Cautions Peiping on Isles," Alew York Times, August 24, 1958, p. 1; "Eisenhower Sees Increased Need to Guard Quemoy," New York Times, August 28, 1958, p. 1; "U.S. Warns Peiping After Red Threat to Invade Quemoy," New York Times, August 29, 1958, p. 1; "U.S. Decides to Use Force if Reds Invade Quemoy," New York Times, September 5, 1958, p. 1; "President Says Nation Must Fight if Necessary to Bar Quemoy Fall," New York Times, September 12, 1958, p. 1; Eisenhower, pp. 294-300, 691-93. Also see George and Smoke, pp. 364-65; Gordon, pp. 644-50; Young, Negotiating with the Chinese Communists, p. 147; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, p. 68. 14. "Dulles Hints U.S. Has Specific Plan for China Parlay," New York Times, September 10, 1958, p. 1; "Text of Eisenhower Speech on Taiwan Situation," New York Times, September 12, 1958, p. 2; "Washington Bars China Coast Raids," New York Times, September 24, 1958, p. 1; "Chiang Promises not to Use Force to Win Mainland," New York Times, October 24, 1958, p. 1; Eisenhower, pp. 294-300; Gordon, pp. 644-50; Young, Negotiating with the Chinese Communists, p. 149. 15. George and Smoke, p. 367. 16. George, "The Development of Doctrine and Strategy," pp. 2021.

17. Ibid. Also see George, "Crisis Management," p. 230. 18. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 62. 19. Felt, "Reminiscences of Admiral Harry Donald Felt, U.S. Navy (Retired)," pp. 392-93. 20. Commander in Chief U.S. Pacific Fleet, "Commander in Chief United States Pacific Fleet, Annual Report for Fiscal Year 1959," July 236

J. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis 27, 1959 (declassified 1983), p. 5, Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C. (Cited hereafter as "CINCPACFLT Annual Report"). 21. Ibid. 22. Enclosure to Commander U.S. Taiwan Patrol Force letter, Serial 386, August 10, 1959 (Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C.); Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 23. Ibid.; Commander U.S. Taiwan Patrol Force, "Review of Actions Occurring During Kinmen Resupply and Recommendations Based Thereon; Report of," letter, Serial 0019, November 22, 1958 (declassified 1972), Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C. (Cited hereafter as "Taiwan Patrol Force Review"); "CINCPACFLT Annual Report," p. 8; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 62, 370; "U.S. Unifies Force Guarding Taiwan for Quick Action," New York Times, September 20, 1958, p. 1. 24. For an overview of communications technology, see Carter, "Communications Technologies and Vulnerabilities," in Carter, Steinbruner and Zraket, eds., Managing Nuclear Operations, pp. 233-57; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability, pp. 111-20. For a brief history of the evolution of U.S. communications systems, see Blair, Strategic Command and Control, pp. 51-53. 25. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 250. 26. Heyward, letter to author, May 27, 1988. Vice Admiral Heyward was responsible for Navy liaison with the State Department and played a key role in coordinating naval policy with political policy during the crisis. 27. Felt, "Reminiscences," pp. 392-93; Riley (Chief of staff to CINCPAC in 1958), "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral Herbert D. Riley, U.S. Navy (Retired)," pp. 360-61; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 249-50. 28. Blackburn, letter to author. May 30, 1988. 29. "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 4, p. 1; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 246. 30. Chang, "To the Nuclear Brink," pp. 105-14. 31. Felt, "Reminiscences," p. 396; Dennison (Assistant Chief of Staff for Operations at CINCPAC, 1956-1958), "The Reminiscences of Admiral Charles K. Dennison, U.S. Navy (Retired)," pp. 536-41; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 277-78, 292-93, 378-79, 538; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, pp. 68-71. 32. Eisenhower, p. 299. 33. Joint Chiefs of Staff, "Authority for Emergency Action in Defense of Taiwan and the Offshore Islands," discussion paper, September 6, 1958, quoted in Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 285-86. Also see "Eisenhower Sees Increased Need to Guard Quemoy," New York Times, August 28, 1958, p. 2; "U.S. Decides to Use Force if 237

3. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis Reds Invade Quemoy," New York Times, September 5, 1958, p. 1 ; "Dulles Hints U.S. has Specific Plan," New York Times, September 10, 1958, p. 1. 34. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 287. 35. Gordon, p. 647. Also see Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 2 0 7 - 8 ; "Eisenhower Sees Increased Need to Guard Ouemov," New York Times, August 28, 1958, p. 2; "U.S. to Answer Any Air Attack," New York Times, September 12, 1958, p. 3; Gordon, p. 644 36. Quoted in Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 208. Also see Riley, "Reminiscences," p. 630. 37. Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 38. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 200, 286; "U.S. to Answer Any Air Attack," New York Times, September 12, 1958, p. 3; "Dulles Hints U.S. Has Specific Plan for China Parley," New York Times, September 10, 1958, p. 1; Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 39. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 200, 286; Gordon, p. 644. 40. "CINCPACFLT Annual Report," p. 8; Howe, p. 193; Potter and Nimitz, eds., Sea Power, p. 880; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 60. The General Emergency Operations Plan was the forerunner to the Defense Condition of Readiness (DEFCON) alert system instituted in November 1959. 41. Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 6 3 - 6 5 . 42. Office of the Chief of Naval Operations (OP-333E), "Summary of U.S. Navy Action Accomplished During Taiwan Crisis," memorandum for the record, no date (declassified 1974), CNO Command File, Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C. (Cited hereafter as "CNO Summary of Action"). 43. "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, p. 1; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 158. 44. "CNO Summary of Action," pp. 2, 5; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, p. 1. 45. JCS 252147Z AUG 1958 (JCS no. 947046), August 25, 1958 (declassified 1975), quoted in Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 112-14. Use of atomic weapons required specific authorization from the President. 46. "CNO Summary of Action," pp. 5 - 9 ; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, pp. 1-2; "CINCPACFLT Annual Report," p. 8. 47. "CNO Summary of Action," pp. 6 - 1 2 ; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, pp. 2 - 3 . 48. Kennedy, "The Creation of the Cold War Navy," p. 317. 49. "CNO Summary of Action," p. 8; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 198-200.

238

3. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis 50. "Taiwan Reports 5 Red Boats Sunk and 6 Set Afire," New York Times, September 2, 1958, p. 4; Hanson Baldwin, "The Quemoy Blockade," New York Times, September 5, 1958, p. 4; "Quemoy Again Pounded by Reds," New York Times, September 5, 1958, p. 1; "Quemoy Garrison Supplied Under U.S. Fleet's Escort," New York Times, September 8, 1958, p. 1; "CNO S u m m a r y of Action," pp. 12, 14; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 153-55, 162; Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 51. Smoot, "Reminiscences of Vice Admiral Roland N. Smoot, U.S. Navy (Retired)," p. 315; Riley, "Reminiscences," pp. 628-33; "CNO S u m m a r y of Action," p. 10; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 203, 249. 52. "CNO Summary of Action," pp. 6 - 1 1 ; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, pp. 2 - 3 ; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 246-48 53. Burke, "Reminiscences of Admiral Arleigh A. Burke, U.S. Navy (Retired)," p. 44. 54. Burke, "Reminiscences," p. 43; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 201-6. 55. "CNO Summary of Action," pp. 9, 11; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," p. 2; Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 56. "Communist China Claims A Sea Limit of 12 Miles," New York Times, September 5, 1958 p. 1; "Text of Peiping Statement," New York Times, September 5, 1958 p. 3. 57. "U.S. Rejects Red Claim," New York Times, September 5, 1958 P-l. 58. "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, p. 3; "Quemoy Garrison Supplied Under U.S. Fleet's Escort," New York Times, September 8, 1958, p. 1; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 246. The small-scale night convoy escort operations conducted September 4 - 6 were not revealed to the press until after the first daylight convoy on September 7. These night convoys delivered only a very small a m o u n t of supplies to Quemoy. In addition to training the Nationalist and U.S. navies in operating together—a crucial task in itself — the initial small-scale escort operations provided a test of the Communist reaction. 59. "CNO S u m m a r y of Action," p. 15; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, p. 3; "Quemoy Garrison Supplied Under U.S. Fleet's Escort," New York Times, September 8, 1958, p. 1; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 246-48, 294-95. 60. "CNO S u m m a r y of Action," pp. 15-18; "Taiwan Patrol Force Review," Enclosure 1, pp. 4 - 6 ; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 295-304, 363-69, 422-41. 61. "U.S. Navy Lands Guns at Quemoy," jVew York Times, October

239

3. The 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis 1, 1958, p. 10; Baldwin, "Reminiscences of Hanson Weightman Baldwin, U.S. Navv (Retired)," p. 527; Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 62. "History of USS Catamount ( L S D 17) from 8 July 1944 to 31 December 1964," Ships History Branch, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C., p. 12; Commander Wayne D. Baker, U.S. Navy (Retired), Commanding Officer USS Catamount in 1958, letter to author, April 11, 1988. 63. Captain Edward W. Behm, U.S. Navy (Retired), Commanding Officer of USS McGinty (DE 365) during the crisis, letter to author, February 19, 1988; " C N O Summary of Action," pp. 3-4; "Taiwan Patrol Force R e v i e w , " pp. 4, 8; Halperin, " T h e 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 363-70, 407. 64. Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 65. "Taiwan Games Begin," New York Times, September 8, 1958, p. 3; " C N O Summary of Action," pp. 14-15; "Taiwan Patrol Force Rev i e w , " pp. 5 - 8 , 11; " C I N C P A C F L T Annual Report," pp. 8-9; Commander Harry C. Lowe, U.S. Navy (Retired), Commanding Officer of USS Dennis J. Buckley (DDR 808) during the crisis, interview by author, February 12, 1988; Felt, "Reminiscences," p. 389. 66. Vice Admiral Wallace M. Beakley, letter to Vice Admiral A. M. Pride, September 8, 1958, in Personal Papers, Box 3, Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C. 67. The CNO's extra reporting requirements and requests for information are listed in " C N O Summary of Action," p. 2. 68. See Smoot, "Reminiscences," pp. 313-15; Riley, "Reminiscences," pp.619-21. 69. Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 70. Lowe, interview by author, February 12, 1988; Baker, letter to author, April 11, 1988; " T a i w a n Patrol Force Review," pp. 8-11; Halperin, " T h e 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 533; Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. Also see Young, The Politics of Force, pp. 22426; Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 112-13. 71. Behm, letter to author, February 19, 1988. 72. " T a i w a n Patrol Force R e v i e w , " pp. 4-11; Halperin, " T h e 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 533 73. " T a i w a n Patrol Force R e v i e w , " pp. 8-10. 74. Eisenhower, p. 692. 75. " T a i w a n Patrol Force R e v i e w . " Enclosure 1, p. 1; Blackburn, letter to author. May 30, 1988. 76. Halperin, " T h e 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 304. 77. " T a i w a n Patrol Force R e v i e w , " Enclosure 1. p. 8. In fact, the Commander of the U.S. Taiwan Defense Command initially responded to the Communist cease-fire by informing his forces on October 6 that it did not change their orders. 240

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis 78. Riley, "Reminiscences," p. 630; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 133. Vice Admiral Blackburn also states that he was not kept informed of U.S. political objectives and diplomatic initiatives during the crisis. Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 79. U.S. Congress, Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Disarmament and Foreign Policy, p. 98. Also see Young, The Politics of Force, pp. 224-29; Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 112-13. 80. Blackburn, letter to author, May 30, 1988. 81. Kalicki, The Pattern of Sino-American Crises, p. 213. 82. Ibid., pp. 213-15. 83. Eisenhower, p. 299. 84. Smoot, "Reminiscences," pp. 313-16; Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," pp. 155, 249-50, 365, 370. 85. Heyward, letter to author. May 27, 1988. 86. Beakley, letter to VADM Pride, September 8, 1958. 87. Quoted in Halperin, "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis," p. 110. 88. "CNO Summary of Action," pp. 2 - 3 ; "CNO Congressional Testimony," p p . 1 0 6 - 7 89. "CINCPACFLT Annual Report," p. 1. Vice Admiral Beakley expressed concern in the letter quoted previously that the attack carriers off Taiwan would start breaking down if kept on the line for too long without maintenance. 4. THE 1962 CUBAN MISSILE

CRISIS

1. U.S. CIA, Current Intelligence Memorandum, "Recent Soviet Military Aid to Cuba," August 22, 1962. Also see U.S. CIA, Special National Intelligence Estimate 8 5 - 3 - 6 2 , "The Military Buildup in Cuba," September 19, 1962; U.S. Congress, Senate Committee on Armed Services, Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee, "Interim Report on the Cuban Military Buildup," pp. 5 - 8 (Cited hereafter as Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee Interim Report); Commander in Chief Atlantic, "CINCLANT Historical Account of Cuban Crisis 1962," April 29, 1963, pp. 4 - 9 (cited hereafter as "CINCLANT Historical Account"); U.S. CIA, National Indications Center, "The Soviet Bloc Armed Forces and the Cuban Crisis: A Chronology, July-November 1962," June 18, 1963, pp. 1 - 7 (cited hereafter as "National Indications Center"). 2. See National Indications Center, pp. 6 - 7 , 13; Hilsman, To Move a Nation, p. 170; Schlesinger, Robert Kennedy and His Times, p. 505; Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, "The Naval Quarantine of Cuba," December 1962, pp. 1 - 2 (cited hereafter as "CNO Historical Narrative."); USS Oxford (AG 159), Ship's History, January 25, 1963. 3. See U.S. CIA, Current Intelligence Memorandum, "Recent Soviet Military Aid to Cuba," August 22, 1962; U.S. President, Public Papers of the Presidents: Lyndon B. Johnson, Special Inter-Departmental Com241

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis mittee. Memorandum for the President, "Report on Implications for U.S. Foreign and Defense Policy of Recent Intelligence Estimates," August 23, 1962; U.S. CIA, Special National Intelligence Estimate 8 5 3 - 6 2 , "The Military Buildup in Cuba," September 19, 1962. Also see Allyn, Blight and Welch, "Essence of Revisison," pp. 144-47; Hershberg. Before "The Missiles of October," pp. 4 8 - 6 7 . 4. The White House, Office of the Special Assistant for National Security Affairs, National Security Action Memorandum No. 181, August 23, 1962. 5. Norbert A. Schlei, Memorandum for the Attorney General, "Legality Under International law of Remedial Action Against Use of Cuba as a Missile Base by the Soviet Union." August 29, 1962, reproduced in Chayes, The Cuban Missile Crisis, pp. 108. 6. Ibid., pp. 115-16. 7. On the military preparations, see "CINCLANT Histori-cal Account," p. 19; Hilsman, p. 171; Abel, The Missile Crisis, p. 9; Office of the Secretary of Defense, Memorandum, "Department of Defense Operations During the Cuban Crisis," drafted by Adam Yarmolinsky, February 12, 1963, pp. 1, 7 (cited hereafter as "DOD Operations"). 8. National Indications Center, p. 16; CNO Historical Narrative, pp. 9 - 1 0 ; Hilsman, p. 167. Navy patrol planes first photographed a Soviet ship carrying suspected IL-28 crates on September 16. Over the next two weeks, two additional ships carrying suspected IL-28 crates were discovered. These ships were closely tracked en route to Cuba. During early October, the confirmed arrival of IL-28s in Cuba seems to have been at least as great a cause for concern as the possibility of offensive missiles. 9. "DOD Operations," pp. 1, 7. Johns contends that during this meeting, McNamara ordered execution of the preparatory phases of the Cuban contingency plans. See Johns, "Naval Quarantine of Cuba," p. 74. However, there is no evidence to support this and Admiral Anderson denies that McNamara gave such an order. Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988. 10. Secretary of Defense, Memorandum for the Chairman, Joint Chiefs of Staff, October 2, 1962, reproduced in CINCLANT Historical Account, pp. 41-42. Also see Johns, "Naval Quarantine of Cuba," pp. 8 7 - 8 8 . This is the m e m o r a n d u m alluded to in the Yarmolinski report. See "DOD Operations," p. 7. 11. CINCLANT Historical Account, pp. 39-40; "DOD Operations," p. 1; Ward, "Personal History or Diary of Vice Admiral Alfred G. Ward, U.S. Navy, While Serving as Commander Second Fleet," n.d., p. 2 (cited hereafter as Ward, "Diary"). The October 20 deadline to complete preparations for air strikes against Cuba appears to have been set by McNamara at the October 1 JCS meeting and passed to CINCLANT that day. McNamara mentioned the October 20 target date in 242

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile

Crisis

the October 16 m o r n i n g and evening meetings with the President. See Presidential Recordings Transcripts, "Cuban Missile Crisis Meetings, October 16, 1962," transcript of 11:50 A.M.-12:57 P.M. off-the-record meeting on Cuba (Presidential Papers of John F. Kennedy, President's Office Files, John F. Kennedy Library, Boston, Mass. Cited hereafter as "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript"), p. 24; Presidential Recordings Transcripts, "Cuban Missile Crisis Meetings, October 16, 1962," transcript of 6:30-7:55 P.M. off-the-record meeting on Cuba (Presidential Papers of J o h n F. Kennedy, President's Office Files, J o h n F. Kennedy Library, Boston, Mass. Cited hereafter as "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript"), p. 19. 12. Secretary of Defense, M e m o r a n d u m for the President, "Presidential Interest in SA-2 Missile System and Contingency Planning for C u b a , " October 4, 1962, p. 2. 13. M c N a m a r a c o m m e n t s in "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," p. 24; Taylor a n d M c N a m a r a c o m m e n t s in "October 16 Evening Meeting T r a n s c r i p t , " pp. 2 8 - 2 9 ; CINCLANT Historical Account, pp. 4 0 - 4 4 ; "DOD Operations," p. 1; Ward, "Diary," pp. 1 - 2 ; Abel, p p . 141-42; Vice Admiral Robert J. Stroh, c o m m a n d e r of the Independence task g r o u p d u r i n g the crisis, letter to a u t h o r , February 18, 1988; Anderson, " T h e Cuban Crisis," p. 82. 14. For the assessments of Soviet motives that were m a d e d u r i n g the crisis, see U.S. CIA, Special National Intelligence E s t i m a t e 1 1 - 1 8 62, "Soviet Reactions to Certain US Courses of Action on C u b a , " Octob e r 19, 1962, p p . 1 - 3 (cited hereafter as " S N I E 1 1 - 1 8 - 6 2 " ) ; U.S. CIA, Special National Intelligence E s t i m a t e 1 1 - 1 9 - 6 2 , " M a j o r Consequences of Certain US Courses of Action on Cuba," October 20, 1962, pp. 3 - 5 (cited hereafter as " S N I E 1 1 - 1 9 - 6 2 " ) . For views of American p a r t i c i p a n t s , see the c o m m e n t s by Ball, Garthoff, M c N a m a r a , Nitze, Schesinger, a n d Sorenson in Blight a n d Welch, On the Brink, pp. 2 8 34, 38, 140; Sorenson, Kennedy, pp. 676-78; Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 4 1 5 - 1 8 ; Ball, The Past Has Another Pattern, pp. 288-89; Cline, " C o m m e n t a r y , " pp. 193-96. For academic assessments of Soviet motives, see Crane, "The Cuban Crisis," pp. 528-36; Horelick, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 364-77; Albert and Roberta Wohlstetter, "Controlling the Risks in C u b a , " pp. 8 - 1 2 ; Dinerstein, The Making of a Missile Crisis, p. 156; George a n d Smoke, Deterrence in American Foreign Policy, pp. 4 5 9 - 6 6 ; Ulam, Expansion and Coexistence, p p . 668-77; T a t u , Power in the Kremlin, p. 232-34; Lebow, "Provocative Deterrence," pp. 15-16; Hilsman, pp. 161-65; Wohlstetters, pp. 14-15; Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p p . 116-17, 294; Allyn, Blight, and Welch, "Essence of Revision," pp. 138-44; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability, pp. 189-91. 15. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers, pp. 4 9 2 - 9 3 . Khrushchev's mention of Soviet standing a m o n g Communist nations a p p e a r s to be a veiled allusion to Soviet relations with Communist China, which were 243

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis strained in 1962. Also see Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers: The Last Testament, pp. 509-11. 16. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers, p. 494. Also see the comments by Fyodor Burlatsky, Sergo Mikoyan, and Georgi Shaknazarov in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 235, 238-39, 242, 257-58; Allyn, Blight, and Welch, "Essence of Revision," pp. 138-44; Garthoff, "Cuban Missile Crisis: The Soviet Story," pp. 64-65; Pope, Soviet Views on the Cuban Missile Crisis, pp. 30, 39-40, 82-85, 169. 17. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers, p. 493. Also see Secretary of State Rusk's comments in "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," p. 15. 18. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers, p. 493. Also see Horelick, p. 385; Sorenson, p. 678; Young, The Politics of Force, p. 235; Weintal and Bartlett, Facing the Brink, p. 55; Bundy, Danger and Survival, p. 392; Garthoff, "Cuban Missile Crisis: The Soviet Story," p. 65. 19. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers, p. 496; Tatu, pp. 261-65; Garthoff, Reflections, pp. 59-70; Crane, pp. 546-47; Wohlstetters, pp. 16-17; Horelick, pp. 370-71, 387; Hilsman, pp. 226-27; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis, 1962," in George, Hall, and Simons, The Limits of Coercive Diplomacy, p. 133; Trachtenberg, "The Influence of Nuclear Weapons," pp. 137-63. 20. Khrushchev, Khrushchev Remembers, pp. 495-500; Tatu, pp. 265-73; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 118-29; Crane, pp. 546-48; Garthoff, Reflections, p. 94. 21. "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," p. 27; Robert S. McNamara, "Background Briefing on the Cuban Situation," transcript, October 22, 1962, p. 2; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 33; Hilsman, p. 202; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, pp. 801-2; Sorenson, p. 683; Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 397-98; Pachter, Collision Course, p. 13. For the texts of the President's October 22 speech and October 23 proclamation, see U.S. Department of State, "The Soviet Threat to the Americas," pp. 715-20. For the text of the President's October 27 letter, see U.S. Department of State, "U.S. and Soviet Union Agree on Formula for Ending Cuban Crisis," p. 743. 22. See "October 27, 1962: Transcripts of the Meetings of the ExComm," transcribed by McGeorge Bundy and edited by James G. Blight, International Security (Winter 1987/88) 12:50-58, 83, 87-91 (cited hereafter as "October 27 Meetings Transcript."). 23. On the view that American military superiority made war unlikely, see Burchinal, transcript of oral history interview, April 11, 1975, p. 116; Vice Admiral Turner F. Caldwell, letter to author, March 14, 1988; Rear Admiral Paul E. Hartmann, Assistant Chief of Staff for Operations at CINCLANT during the crisis, letter to author, February 22, 1988; Blight, Nye, and Welch, "The Cuban Missile Crisis Revisited," pp. 174-75; Cohen, "Why We Should Stop Studying the Cuban Missile 244

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Crisis," p. 5. On the President's and McNamara's escalation concerns, see "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 10, 22-23; "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 52, 58, 74-75. Also see Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 116-17; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 98-99; Sorenson, pp. 680-81; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, p. 804; Hilsman, p. 204; Weintal and Bartlett, p. 67; Blight, et al., "The Cuban Missile Crisis Revisited," pp. 173, 176. The Soviet Union on September 11 had accused the U.S. of "preparing for aggression against Cuba" and warned that "if the aggressors unleash war our armed forces must be ready to strike a crushing retaliatory blow at the aggressor." See "Soviet Says A U.S. Attack on Cuba Would Mean War," New York Times, September 12, 1962, p. 1. The President's advisers were aware of this warning and apparently considered it in formulating a course of action. See Sorenson, p. 680; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, p. 799; Hilsman, pp. 16566.

24. See "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," pp. 8 - 1 3 ; "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 6 - 1 0 , 2 2 - 2 5 ; "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 65-66, 88-90. Also see Sorenson, pp. 6 8 2 83; Hilsman, pp. 202-4; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, pp. 803-4; Abel, pp. 60-63; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," p. 95. 25. George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 8 8 - 8 9 . Also see George, "The Development of Doctrine and Strategy," in George, Hall, and Simons, The Limits of Coercive Diplomacy, pp. 18-19. 26. Bundy, Danger and Survival, p. 395; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 95-96, 104. 27. "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," pp. 16-19, 28-29; "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 10-11, 16—17; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, p. 810; Hilsman, pp. 198-200, 207; Sorenson, pp. 676, 687-88. Also see Pachter, pp. 15, 47; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 95-101; Garthoff, Reflections, p. 72; Welch and Blight, "The Eleventh Hour of the Cuban Missile Crisis," p. 26. 28. See comments by Rusk in "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," pp. 8 - 1 0 ; comments by the President and McNamara in "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 17, 23, 4 9 - 5 0 ; comment by McNamara on "applying force gradually" in U.S. National Security Council, Executive Committee, "Summary Record of NSC Executive Committee Meeting No. 5, October 25, 1962, 5:00 P.M.," pp. 2 - 3 (cited hereafter as "October 25 Evening EXCOMM Meeting Summary Record"); U.S. National Security Council, Executive Committee, "Summary Record of NSC Executive Committee Meeting No. 6, October 26, 1962, 10:00 A.M.," p. 2 (cited hereafter as "October 26 EXCOMM Meeting Summary Record"); comments by the President in "October 27 Meetings Transcript," p. 88; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 83; Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 398-99; Nitze comments in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 143-45; Hilsman, pp. 213-16, 228; Schlesinger, A 245

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Thousand Days, p. 806; Sorenson, pp. 694, 708, 711. Also see George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 104-5, 116-17; Abel, pp. 81, 173; Young, The Politics of Force, pp. 236-40; Wohlstetters, pp. 19-20; Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 119-20. 29. See the discussion on intercepting an East German passenger ship in "October 25 Evening EXCOMM Meeting Summary Record," pp. 4 - 6 ; the decision to delay night reconnaissance flights and blockade of POL in "October 26 EXCOMM Meeting Summary Record," p. 2; and the decision to delay retaliatory strikes on Cuban air defenses in "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 66, 74, 78, 88-90. On EXCOMM attention to the details of military operations, see Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 37, 76; Hilsman, 198, 213, 215, 221; Sorenson, pp. 708-9, 713; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, pp. 818, 822, 827-28. Also see George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 109,115; Abel, p. 32; Wohlstetters, p. 15; Young, p. 238; Williams, p. 116. 30. The option of immediately confronting the Soviets with an ultim a t u m was mentioned by the President (who contemplated delivering an ultimatum when he met with Soviet Foreign Minister Gromyko on October 18) and discussed by his advisers in their second meeting of the crisis. See "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 17, 31, 46-47. On the October 27 ultimatum, see Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 108-9; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, p. 829; Sorenson, p. 715; Abel, p. 199; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," p. 125. On the President's bargaining strategy, see "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 35-61, 75-77, 81-83; Sorenson, pp. 682, 691, 694-95, 717; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, pp. 810, 821; George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 88-89, 98-103, 117-18; Abel, p. 195; Weintal and Bartlett, p. 68; Pachter, p. 54; Young, p. 238; Williams, p. 120; Welch and Blight, pp. 12-18; Holsti, Crisis Escalation War, p. 186. 31. General Maxwell D. Taylor, Transcript of Recorded Interview by Elspeth Rostow (Boston, Mass.: John F. Kennedy Library, Oral History Program, 1964), p. 8; Chew, Deputy Director for Operations (J3), Joint Staff, during the crisis, "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral John L. Chew, U.S. Navy (Retired)," pp. 316-17; Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988. 32. "Chronology of JCS Decisions," pp. 14, 25; Admiral U.S.G. Sharp, Deputy CNO for Plans and Policy during the crisis, letter to author, February 24, 1988; Captain John H. Carmichael, Assistant Director, Fleet Operations Division, Office of the Chief of Naval Operations (OPNAV), and Director of Flag Plot during the crisis, letter to author, March 8, 1988; Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988; Shepard, interview by author, February 10,1988; Griffin, "Reminiscences," p. 552. 33. Anderson, interview by author, January 25,1988; Griffin, "Reminiscences," p. 552. Admiral Dennison, CINCLANT during the crisis, 246

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis states that "I never got a call from the White House during the entire operation." Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. 34. Shepard, interview by author, February 10, 1988; Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988. Vice Admiral Chew states that McNamara "paid very little attention" to the Joint Staff during the crisis. Chew, "Reminiscences," p. 331. 35. The JCS also appointed the Chief of Staff of the Army as its Executive Agent for invasion operations and the Chief of Staff of the Air Force as its Executive Agent for air defense of the United States. "Chronology of JCS Decisions," p. 14. 36. Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988. 37. Shepard, John F. Kennedy, p. 96; Commander Gerry M. McCabe, Assistant Naval Aide to the President and Director of the White House Situation Room during the crisis, interview by author, February 22, 1988. 38. Shepard, John F. Kennedy, pp. 104-5; Shepard, interview by author, February 10, 1988; McCabe, interview by author, February 22, 1988; Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, p. 818; Sorenson, pp. 709-10. 39. Carmichael, letter to author, March 8, 1988. 40. Ibid; Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988. 41. Anderson, "The Reminiscences of Admiral George W. Anderson, Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired)," p. 558; Chew, "Reminiscences," pp. 332-33; Carmichael, letter to author, March 8, 1988; Abel, p. 154. 42. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 22-24, 49-50; Dennison, "The Reminiscences of Admiral Robert Lee Dennison, U.S. Navy (Retired)," pp. 415, 425. 43. For a detailed description, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 560-63. 44. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 24-32. Only a few ships —primarily large ships commonly used as flagships—had the secure voice capability and many older vessels did not have any HF/SSB equipment at all. 45. Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988. 46. "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 108. 47. Commander Gerry McCabe, Situation Room director, firmly states that the President never spoke on the radio to commanders at sea in his presence, and probably never did so at any time during the crisis. McCabe, interview by author, February 22, 1988. Admiral Dennison states in his oral history that officials in Washington, apparently including officials in the White House, occasionally tried to contact commanders at sea, but that he told them to "get off my circuits." He makes no suggestion, however, that the President was ever on the radio or that any of the President's advisers ever issued orders to ships at sea over voice radio. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. Admiral Ander247

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis son, Admiral Griffin, Admiral Rivero, Vice Admiral Hayward, Vice Admiral Stroh, Rear Admiral Wylie, and Captain Robert J. Wissman (Operations Officer on the staff of Commander Carrier Division 18, commander of the USS Essex HUK Group, which was part of the quarantine force) all state that there were no such communications. Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988; Griffin, letter to author, April 6, 1988; Rivero, letter to author, March 10, 1988; Vice Admiral John T. Hayward, letter to author, February 17, 1988; Stroh, letter to author, February 18, 1988; Wylie, letter to author, April 13, 1988; Captain Robert J. Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988. Admiral Chew, Admiral Sharp, and Admiral Ward make no mention of such communications in their oral histories. Chew, "Reminiscences," pp. 315-41; Sharp, "Reminiscences," pp. 164-69; Ward, "Reminiscences," p. 199. Additionally, some three dozen Commanding Officers of ships that participated in the Cuban Missile Crisis all stated in letters to the author or in interviews by the author that they had not heard the President or McNamara on the HF/SSB net. 48. Ward, "Reminiscences," p. 199; Ward, "Sea Power in the Cuban Crisis," Address by Vice Admiral Alfred G. Ward, February 5, 1963, p. 6. Garthoff states that the President established "direct communications with the quarantine commander." Garthoff, Reflections, p. 67. This is correct in that the HF/SSB voice radio net connected the White House Situation Room with Vice Admiral Ward, but the President did not use the net to personally give orders to Vice Admiral Ward. In his oral history. General Burchinal provides a vivid account of the Secretary of Defense giving orders directly to ships on the quarantine line from a phone on his desk. Burchinal, p. 117. However, General Burchinal's recollection of events appears to have been colored by his extremely negative opinion of the quarantine (General Burchinal advocated the air strike option). Available evidence indicates that McNamara monitored quarantine operations in the Situation Room and Flag Plot, and passed his orders to General Taylor and Admiral Anderson. 49. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. Also see Garthoff, Reflections, p. 67; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 183-218. 50. Ward, "Diary," p. 11; Captain James W. Foust, letter to author, March 10, 1988. 51. Captain George L. Dickey, Jr., letter to author, April 20, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988. 52. Participants could not recall specifically if this was done, but did recall that information on Soviet submarines was kept as up to date as possible. 53. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 25-30. 54. Ibid., p. 33. 55. Ibid., pp. 32-35. 248

4. The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis 56. Rear Admiral Ernest E. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988. 57. Captain Donald L. Lassell, letter to author, May 11, 1988. Emphasis is his. 58. Carmichael, letter to author, March 8, 1988. 59. Ward, "Diary," p. 12; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Captain Charles H. Morrison, Commander Destroyer Squadron 24, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. 60. "October 23 EXCOMM Minutes," p. 3; Bundy, "Executive Committee Record of Action, October 24, 1962, 10:00 A.M., Meeting No. 3," pp. 1 - 2 (cited hereafter as "October 24 Morning EXCOMM Meeting Record of Action"). 61. Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988. 62. The records of the EXCOMM meetings held October 23 and 26 indicate that civil defense, particularly measures for the southeastern United States, was a concern, but was generally discussed in separate meetings. See Bundy, "Executive Committee Record of Action, October 23, 1962, 6 PM, Meeting No. 2," p. 1 (cited Hereafter as "October 23 Evening EXCOMM Meeting Record of Action"); "October 26 EXCOMM Meeting Summary Record," pp. 1 - 2 . 63. Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 550. He made the same point to the author: "I particularly took the position that control of the ships at sea had to go by the chain of command." Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988. Also see Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. 64. The plans for a limited blockade were drawn up by Admiral Dennison and Vice Admiral Ward on October 20. The CNO briefed the President on Navy quarantine plans the afternoon of October 21 and McNamara approved the quarantine orders that evening. See "DOD Operations," p. 2; Ward, "Diary," pp. 4 - 6 ; Abel, p. 107. 65. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 17-22; Beakley, "Presentation to the Naval War College," December 11, 1962, p. 15; Ward, "Diary," pp. 2-3; Dennison, "Reminiscences," pp. 415-17. For a detailed description of these OPLANs, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 585-90. 66. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 39, 103, 153. 67. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 416. 68. Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988; Blouin, letter to author, February 29, 1988. 69. Secretary of Defense, Memorandum for the President, "Presidential Interest in SA-2 Missile System and Contingency Planning for Cuba," October 4, 1962. 70. See "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," pp. 11-17, 2 1 26; "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 9 - 1 0 , 17-23; "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 52, 63-65, 74, 86-88. 249

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis 71. "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," p. 27. 72. OPLAN 314-61 contained an option, designated "314 Golf," for execution of the invasion on four days' notice—achieved by executing the plan, then halting it at D-4. OPLAN 316-62 consisted of four phases —alert, prepositioning and initial deployment, final deployment and pre-assault, and assault—and could be executed in phases. See "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 20-21, 87-89. 73. "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 144. 74. "DOD Operations," pp. 2, 9; Caldwell, letters to author, March 14, 1988, and April 27, 1988. According to Vice Admiral Caldwell, the only change made to his rules for the quarantine was deletion of POL (petroleum, oil, and lubricants) from the list of prohibited items. 75. Commander in Chief U.S. Atlantic Fleet, CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62, Revised OPORD 4 5 - 6 2 , naval message, October 23, 1962 (cited hereafter as CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62 ). Also see Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 60-61; Sorenson, p. 698; "Ships Must Stop," New York Times, October 23, 1962, p. 1; "Blockade Begins at 10 A.M. Today," New York Times, October 24, 1962, p. 1. 76. Caldwell, letter to author, March 14, 1988. 77. CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62. 78. Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, "Protective Measures to be Taken in Applying the Right of Self-Preservation in Peacetime," February 21, 1958. The Navy had traditionally used the term "measures for self-preservation" to cover the same policy issues as the relatively new JCS term "rules of engagement." 79. Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988; Griffin, letter to author, April 6, 1988; Hayward, letter to author, February 17, 1988; Stroh, letter to author, February 18, 1988; Christiansen, interview bv author, February 3, 1988; Admiral Noel A.M. Gayler, Commander Carrier Division Twenty during the crisis, letter to author, March 22, 1988. 80. "Blockade Begins at 10 A.M. Today," New York Times, October 24, 1962, p. 21. 81. U.S. Department of State, "The Soviet Threat to the Americas," p.717. 82. Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 70. Also see Sorenson, p. 705. 83. CTG 81.6 261524Z OCT 62, OPORD 31-62 Change One, naval message, October 26, 1962. 84. CTG 81.6 011603Z NOV 62, OPORD 33-62, naval message, November 1, 1962. 85. Lassell, letter to author, May 11, 1988. 86. Captain Robert E. Brady, letter to author, April 21, 1988. 87. Hayward, letter to author, February 17, 1988. 88. Robert S. McNamara, "Background Briefing on Cuban Situation," October 22, 1962, transcript, Office of the Secretary of Defense, pp.39-40. 250

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis 89. See W.W. Rostow, Memorandum, "Report Number One of Planning Subcommittee," October 24, 1962; W.W. Rostow, Memorandum, "Report Number Two of the Planning Subcommittee," October 25, 1962. 90. Joint Chiefs of Staff, Joint Secretariat, Historical Division, "Chronology of JCS Decisions Concerning the Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 37, 104-5 (cited hereafter as "Chronology of JCS Decisions"). 91. "October 23 EXCOMM Minutes," pp. 1-2. Also see Sorenson, p. 713. 92. "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 63-71. Also see Sorenson, p. 713; Allyn, Blight, and Welch, "Essence of Revision," pp. 15962.

93. Beakley, Naval War College Presentation, pp. 11-13; Caldwell, letter to author, March 14, 1988; Ward, "Diary," p. 1; "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 39. 94. "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," p. 12. 95. "Chronology of JCS Decisions," pp. 10-12. 96. "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," pp. 9, 46. Also see Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 33-34. 97. See "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," pp. 13-14; "October ¡6 Evening Meeting Transcript," p. 48; SNIE ! 1-19-62, pp 4-6, Annex A; SNIE 11-20-62, pp. 6-7; McNamara, "Notes on October 21, 1962 Meeting with the President"; Johnson, The Right Hand of Power, pp. 382-86; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 33-39, 43-49; Sorenson, pp. 682-92; Hilsman, pp. 203, 206; Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, pp. 803-8; Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 398-402, 420-27; Ball, The Past Has Another Pattern, pp. 290-94; comments by Douglas C. Dillon, Robert S. McNamara, General Maxwell D. Taylor, Paul H. Nitze, and Dean Rusk in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 50-51, 63, 77-80, 143-5, 148, 176. Also see George, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 9 5 100; Abel, pp. 60-73, 79-82, 86-101; Gottfried and Blair, pp. 17581. 98. "Chronology of JCS Decisions," pp. 19-20, 24-25, 29; "DOD Operations," pp. 2, 9; Caldwell, letter to author, April 27, 1988; Ward, "Reminiscences," pp. 189-91; Ward, "Diary," pp. 4 - 5 ; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 422; Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988; Griffin, letter to author, April 6, 1988; Sorenson, pp. 692, 698; Abel, pp. 81-82, 107, 141-43. The only major change made in the Navy's plan for the limited blockade was to delete POL (petroleum, oil, and lubricants) from the list of prohibited items. Caldwell, letter to author, April 27, 1988. 99. "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 103; Ward, "Diarv," pp. 9 10.

100. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 120-25. 101. "CNO Historical Narrative," pp. 44-46; Ward, "Diary," p. 10; 251

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 103; "DOD Operations," p. 3; Anderson, "Reminiscences," pp. 546-47. 102. JCS message, JCS 250833Z OCT 62, no. 6968, "Situation Report 3-62 as of 250400Z October 1962, Operation Scabbards," p. 3; "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 103-4; "CNO Historical Narrative," pp. 44-46; Ward, "Diary," pp. 10, 15. 103. Ward, "Diary," pp. 4-9; Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 546; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 424; Abel, p. 123. Robert Kennedy and others who claim the quarantine line was initially established at 800 nautical miles are mistaken. See Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 67; Caldwell, "A Research Note on the Quarantine of Cuba," pp. 625-33. Caldwell's analysis contains three errors. First, only five of the eleven ships he examined were assigned stations on the quarantine line. The others operated independently of the quarantine line and one (USS Randolph) was not even in TF 136. Second, ship's locations prior to about 9:00 A.M. on October 24 are irrelevant because the ships were still en route to their stations from U.S. ports. Third, positions from October 24 onward are suspect because quarantine line ships were routinely out of station for refueling, trailing Soviet ships, and other tasking. For a more detailed analysis, see Johns, "Naval Quarantine," pp. 107-15. 104. Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 67. Also see Schlesinger, A Thousand Days, p. 818. 105. Allison, Essence of Decision, pp. 129-30. Also see Garthoff, Reflections, p. 68. Allison also contends that the Navy's resistance to moving the blockade line closer to Cuba forced the President to allow the Soviet tanker Vinnitsa and other Soviet ships to pass through the blockade after it officially went into effect. However, an October 25 CIA report states "Thus far no Soviet ships have entered the zone since it was established. Only two Soviet ships—one a tanker—have arrived in Cuba since 23 October and both of these were well within the zone prior to its establishment." U.S. CIA, Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/ Cuba, Information as of 0600," October 25, 1962, p. II-1 (cited hereafter as CIA, "Crisis USSR/Cuba," October 25, 1962). 106. Allison does not claim the President was unaware of the quarantine line not having been moved. The positions of the Navy ships were plotted on the charts in the White House Situation Room and closely monitored by the President. See Sorenson, p. 710; Williams, Crisis Management, pp. 128-29. Additionally, McNamara visited Flag Plot at least once a day, sometimes morning and evening, for briefings on Navy operations and Soviet shipping. Charts in Flag Plot showed the locations of all Navy ships involved in Cuban operations. There was thus no possibility that the Navy could have covertly left the quarantine line at 500 nautical miles after having been ordered to move it in. 107. For a detailed analysis of alternative hypotheses as to the exact 252

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis order given by the President the evening of October 23, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 621-28. 108. Admiral Dennison states that the quarantine line was moved closer to Cuba after it was determined that there was little threat from Cuban planes. See Dennison, "Reminiscences," pp. 424-26. Also see "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 104; Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 546. 109. Scott D. Sagan previously reached a similar conclusion, contending that "the result of Kennedy's order thus appears to have been only to ensure that the quarantine line was set at the point where it had originally been planned." Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," p. 110. 110. In his October 22 briefing, McNamara stated that there was not a boundary line drawn where the Navy would start patrolling in the Atlantic, which suggests that intercepts could occur outside the quarantine line. McNamara, "Background Briefing on the Cuban Situation," p. 19. 111. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 426. Ward states that on the morning of October 24, a destroyer "had been directed to proceed ahead at maximum speed to effect intercept of Poltava." Ward, "Diary," p. 11. Sorenson notes that "the Navy was eager to go far out into the ocean to intercept the key Soviet ships." Sorenson, p. 710. 112. U.S. CIA, Memorandum, "Soviet Bloc Shipping To Cuba," October 23, 1962, p. 1; U.S. CIA, Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/Cuba," October 24, 1962, pp. Il l, II-2; U.S. CIA, "Crisis USSR/Cuba," October 25, 1962, p. Il l; U.S. CIA, Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/Cuba, Information as of 0600," October 26, 1962, pp. 1-1, II I; "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 12; Ward, "Diary," p. 9. 113. CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62. 114. "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 105; Ward, "Diary," pp. 10-11; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988. McGeorge Bundy and Commander McCabe have confirmed that the President personally decided which ships were to be stopped and boarded. Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 422, 427; McCabe, interview by author, February 22, 1988. On Poltava carrying nuclear warheads to Cuba, see Garthoff, Reflections, pp. 39-40; Allyn, Blight, and Welch, "Essence of Revision," pp. 153-54; Cline, "The Cuban Missile Crisis," p. 192. Robert Kennedy erroneously referred to Kimovsk as the Komiles in his account of the crisis. Robert Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 69. 115. Admiral Dennison observed that "this demonstrates pretty good control by the Soviets, that they could get through to these merchant ships and with not very much time elapsed either." Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 427. 116. CIA, "Crisis USSR/Cuba," October 25, 1962, p. II-1. 117. Dissident Soviet historian Roy Medvedev states that Khrushchev initially ordered his ships to run the blockade, but was con253

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis vinced by First Deputy Premier Anastas I. Mikoyan to rescind that order and halt the ships. Medvedev, All Stalin's Men, p. 52; Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p. 306; Allyn, Blight, and Welch, "Essence of Revision," pp. 155-56; Garthoff, "Cuban Missile Crisis: The Soviet Story," p. 70. Medvedev's account is consistent with the pattern of Soviet public statements and ship movements. Welch and Blight contend that UN Secretary General U Thant's October 25 public request that Khrushchev keep his ships clear of the quarantine area provided the Soviet leader with "a face-saving way of ordering his ships to stop short of the quarantine line." Welch and Blight, "Eleventh Hour," p. 9; also see Ball, The Past Has Another Pattern, p. 302. It is clear, however, that Khrushchev ordered his ships to halt two days before U Thant's request. U Thant did provide Khrushchev a face-saving way of publicly acknowledging that he would not challenge the quarantine. 118. CIA, "Crisis USSR/Cuba," October 25, 1962, p. II-1; "Chronology of JCS Decisions," p. 42; Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 405, 4 2 0 21. Allyn, Blight, and Welch contend, apparantly on the basis of Robert Kennedy's account, that the Soviet ships Gagarin and Komiles (actually the Kimovsk), continued toward Cuba until halting "just outside the quarantine area before 10:25 A.M., October 24." Allyn, Blight, and Welch, "Essence of Revision," p. 156. The Navy had predicted that these two ships would reach the quarantine line at about that time, but they never arrived and were not intercepted by quarantine force ships. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988. Gagarin and Kimovsk probably halted at the same time as the other Soviet ships carrying arms to Cuba. 119. "October 24 Morning EXCOMM Meeting Record of Action," p. 1; CIA, "Crisis USSR/Cuba," October 25, 1962, p. II-1; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 71; Ward, "Diary," p. 11; Sorenson, pp. 710-11; Ball, The Past Has Another Pattern, pp. 300-2. 120. "October 24 Morning EXCOMM Meeting Record of Action," p. 1. 121. Ward, "Diary," p. 11. Also see Anderson, "Cuban Crisis," p. 84; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 71-72. 122. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 426; Ward, "Reminiscences," p. 200; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; McCabe, interview by author, February 22, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Irvine, letter to author, April 6, 1988; Foust, letter to author, March 10,1988; Dickey, letter to author, April 20,1988; Bundy, Danger and Survival, pp. 422, 427; Gottfried and Blair, p. 183. 123. Allison, p. 128. Also see Sorenson, p. 708. 124. Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988; Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 550; General Taylor, Oral History Transcript, p. 8; Chew, "Reminiscences," pp. 316-17; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. 254

4. The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis 125. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421; Captain William R. Hunnicutt, Jr., letter to author, June 1, 1988; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; McCabe, interview by author, February 22, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Irvine, letter to author, April 6, 1988; Foust, letter to author, March 10, 1988; Dickey, letter to author, April 20, 1988; Mikhalevsky, letter to author, March 23, 1988. 126. Irvine, letter to author, April 6, 1988. Also, Ward, "Diary," pp. 11-12; Foust, letter to author, March 10, 1988; Dickey, letter to author, April 20, 1988; Mikhalevsky, letter to author, March 23, 1988; Edelman, letter to author, March 25, 1988. 127. CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62. The publication was Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, Naval Warfare Information Publication 10-2 (NWIP 10-2), Law of Naval Warfare. This was the publication that Admiral Anderson was trying to show McNamara during their infamous encounter in Flag Plot the evening of October 24. See Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 559; Allison, p. 134; Abel, p. 156. Accounts that have the CNO waving the "Manual of Naval Regulations" are erroneous. United States Navy Regulations contained no guidance on blockades, and mentioned quarantines only in the sense of routine medical quarantine. 128. CTF 136 260212Z OCT 62, naval message, October 26, 1962. 129. Mikhalevsky, letter to author, March 23, 1988; Foust, letter to author, March 10, 1988. 130. CINCLANTFLT 281702Z OCT 62, naval message, October 28, 1962. 131. Sieverts, "The Cuban Missile Crisis, 1962," Department of State, Washington, DC, August 22, 1963, pp. 186, 189; "Chronology of JCS Decisions," p. 125; Abel, p. 175. 132. Ward, "Diary," p. 15; "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 104; "CNO Historical Narrative," pp. 83-84; Dennison, "Reminiscences," pp. 424-25. Also see Johns, "Naval Quarantine," pp. 116-18. 133. "CNO Historical Narrative," pp. 100-3, 107-13, 137-40; "DOD Operations," pp. 5-6; "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 105-8; Dennison, "Reminiscences," pp. 427-30; Ward "Diary," pp. 18-19; National Indications Center, pp. 96-99; USS Vesole (DDR 878), Ship's History for 1962; "Navy Intercepts 5 Soviet Vessels in Missile Check," New York Times, November 10, 1962, p. 1. 134. "CINCLANT Historical Narrative," pp. 108-9; Ward, "Sea Power in the Cuban Crisis," pp. 3-4; Ward, "Reminiscences," pp. 197-98; Dennison, "Reminiscences," pp. 428-30; Nitze, From Hiroshima to Glasnost, p. 231. The Navy investigated the charges against USS Blandy and concluded that the ship had not made any threats. It is possible that the Soviet captain could have felt threatened if USS Blandy had its weapons manned. 135. "Admiral Confirms U.S. Navy Detected and Trailed Soviet 255

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis Submarines," New York Times, November 10, 1962, p. 1; Abel, p. 155. Also see Admiral Anderson's testimony in Department of Defense Appropriations for 1964, pp. 256-57; Ward, "Sea Power in the Cuban Crisis," p. 4; Griffin, "Reminiscences," pp. 555-56. 136. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 10, 120-22; Ward, "Diary," p. 11; Dennison, p. 434; CINCLANT 232105Z OCT 62, naval message, October 23, 1962 (provided to the author by Scott D. Sagan). The Zulu-class submarine sighting is probably the "submarine incident" discussed by the JCS the afternoon of October 22. See "Chronology of JCS Decisions," p. 34. In the first edition of his book on the Cuban Missile Crisis, Garthoff contended that the United States had intelligence indicating that the three Soviet submarines approaching the quarantine line had rendezvoused with the freighter Poltava in mid-Atlantic and were escorting it to Cuba. Garthoff, Reflection on the Cuban Missie Crisis (Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1987), p. 22. This rendezvous is not mentioned in any of the documents, messages, or official histories declassified to date. Garthoff omitted mention of this alleged rendezvous in the second edition of his book. 137. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 120-25, 134; Anderson, "Cuban Crisis," p. 85; "DOD Operations," p. 12. The Navy also considered activating the Greenland-Iceland-United Kingdom (GIUK Gap) ASW Barrier, but did not do so. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 121-22,132. 138. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 120-25; "Chronology of JCS Decisions," p. 63; CINCLANT 272016Z OCT 62, naval message, October 27, 1962, quoted in United States Marine Corps Emergency Action Center, "Summary of Items of Significant Interest Relating to the Cuban Situation, Period 270701-280701 October 1962," October 28, 1962. Also see Johns, "Naval Quarantine," p. 147. Confusion has arisen in the past over whether there were five or six confirmed Soviet submarine contacts during the crisis. One of the Soviet submarines originally had two contact designations, C-20 and C-26, and during the crisis was believed to be two different submarines. Navy ASW experts later determined that C-20 and C-26 were the same submarine. 139. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Admiral Anderson's testimony in Department of Defense Appropriations for 1964, p. 256. 140. "October 16 Morning Meeting Transcript," pp. 13-14; "October 16 Evening Meeting Transcript," p. 25; SNIE 11-19-62, p. 2. 141. Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 557; Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988. Also see "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 11; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 434; Hilsman, p. 166; Garthoff, Reflections, pp. 117-18. 142. CINCLANT 232105Z OCT 62, naval message, October 23, 1962. 143. Quoted in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p. 63. On the Presi256

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis dent's concern, see Hilsman, p. 705; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 6162,70. 144. Knox, "Close-up of Khrushchev,'' p. 3; Hilsman, p. 214; Sorenson, p. 710; Abel p. 151. 145. U.S. Department of State, "The Soviet Threat to the Americas," pp.715-20. 146. "News Briefing by Assistant Secretary of Defense Arthur Sylvester," October 24, 1962, pp. 7 - 8 (cited hereafter as "Sylvester News Briefing"). 147. CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62, emphasis added. 148. Ibid., emphasis added. 149. Anderson, interview by author, January 25,1988; Griffin, letter to author, April 6, 1988. 150. Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 61-62. 151. "CNO Historical Narrative," pp. 93-94; Griffin, letter to author, April 6, 1988. 152. COMCRUDESLANT 240900Z OCT 62, naval message, October 24, 1962. 153. Naval Oceanographic Office, "Notice to Mariners No. 45-62, Special Warnings Nos. 30-33," Paragraphs 5980-83, October 24-25, 1962 (Naval Oceanographic Office, Washington, D.C.); Naval Oceanographic Office, NAVOCEANO WASHDC 252124Z OCT 62, "Special Warning Nr. 32," naval message, October 25, 1962. These special signals may have been provided to Moscow on October 24, the day before the Notice to Mariners was broadcast. See "DOD Operations," p. 5. These are the signals described by Robert Kennedy (Thirteen Days, p. 69). "IDKCA" was transmitted in international morse code. 154. The International Code of Signals was not adopted until 1965, and does not include a signal for submarines to surface. See International Code of Signals, For Visual, Sound and Radio Communications, adopted by the Intergovernmental Maritime Consultative Organization in 1965, United States Edition of 1969, revised 1981 (Washington, D.C.: Defense Mapping Agency, Publication No. 102, 1981). 155. "Sylvester News Briefing," p. 8; "U.S. Sets Up a Warning System to Halt Submarines off Cuba," New York Times, October 26, 1962, p. 18. 156. Sorenson, p. 709; Weintal and Bartlett, p. 66. 157. Kennedy, Thirteen Days, p. 77. Also see George, "Cuban Missile Crisis," pp. 112—13. 158. Anderson, "Cuban Crisis," p. 85. 159. Anderson, "As I Recall," p. 45. 160. Vice Admiral Houser and Rear Admiral Shepard state that ASW was not used as a political signal. Houser, letter to author, March 9, 1988; Shepard, letter to author, March 22, 1988. 161. Twelve Navy Officers who tracked confirmed Soviet subma257

4. The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis rines during the crisis stated that they used normal peacetime ASW procedures (the contacts they tracked are given in parentheses): Rear Admiral Ernest E. Christiansen (C-18 and C-19), c o m m a n d e r of the Essex HUK Group, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Captain Robert J. Wissman (C-18 and C-19), Operations Officer for the Essex HUK Group, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Captain Charles H. Morrison, Jr. (C-18 and C-19), Commander of the destroyers in the Essex HUK Group, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Captain William H. Morgan (C-19), Commanding Officer of USS Cony (DD 508), letter to author, April 7, 1988; Captain Richard D. Faubion (C-19), Commanding Officer of USS Bache (DDR 470), letter to author, February 29, 1988; Commander Stephen F. Durbin (C-19), Commanding Officer of USS Eaton (DD 510), letter to author, March 15, 1988; Captain Charles P. Rozier (C-20/26), Commanding Officer of USS Charles P. Cecil (DDR 835), interview by author, January 30, 1988; Captain George L. Dickey, Jr. (C-20/26), Commanding Officer of USS Lawe (DD 763), letter to author, April 20, 1988; Commander John R. Riediger (C-21), Commanding Officer of USS Basilone (DD 824), letter to author, April 11, 1988; Commander John M. Dinwiddie (C-21), Commanding Officer of USS Hank (DD 702), letter to author, April 28, 1988; Captain Sidney Edelman (C-21), Commanding Officer of VP-24, letter to author, March 25, 1988; Commander Charles H. Hayden (C-21), Commanding Officer of USS Charles H. Roan (DD 853), letter to author, May 10, 1988. Five other Navy Officers who participated in ASW operations (but did not track any of the five confirmed Soviet submarines) stated that they used normal peacetime ASW procedures: Admiral Noel A. M. Gavler, letter to author, March 22, 1988; Captain James W. Foust, letter to author, March 10, 1988; Captain John L. Kent, Commanding Officer of VS-24, letter to author, March 25, 1988; Captain William K. Doty, Commanding Officer of USS Hawkins (DDR 973), letter to author, March 17, 1988; Captain Robert H. Small, Commanding Officer of USS Abbot (DD 629), letter to author, June 20, 1988. 162. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Edelman, letter to author, March 25, 1988. It is not known if the President personally authorized ASW aircraft to carry live ASW ordnance, or even knew that they were doing so. Navy commanders had the authority to take this action on their own initiative. 163. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Morgan, letter to author, April 7, 1988; Faubion, letter to author, February 29, 1988; Durbin, letter to author, March 15, 1988; Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988; Dickey, letter to author, April 20, 1988; Dinwiddie, April 28, 1988; Hayden, letter to author, May 10, 1988; Gayler, letter to author, March 22, 1988; Small, letter to author, June 20, 1988. 164. Ward, "Reminiscences," p. 194. Commander McCabe states 258

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis firmly that the President did not personally monitor or directly control ASW operations from the Situation Room. McCabe, interview by author, February 22, 1988. Captain Dickey described ASW operations being monitored by Flag Plot on the HF/SSB net. Dickey, letter to author, April 20, 1988. Captain Wissman recalled the Navy chain of command paying close attention to ASW operations. Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988. 165. Edelman, letter to author, March 25, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Dinwiddie, letter to author, April 28, 1988; Dickey, letter to author, April 20, 1988. 166. Edelman, letter to author, March 25, 1988; Kent, letter to author, March 25, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988. The Navy had different types of PDCs, but ASW aircraft were restricted to using a particular type (MK 64) and requests to use other, larger charges were denied. The type of PDCs used by ASW aircraft are shown in a photograph in Gallagher, "Searching for Subs in the Atlantic," p. 103. The fact that MK 64 PDCs were routinely used in exercises with U.S. submarines indicates that the Navy believed they were a safe signaling method. 167. Dinwiddie, letter to author, April 28, 1988; Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988. Ships normally did not carry PDCs: they had sonar and underwater telephone, so did not need PDCs. Hand grenades had about the same explosive charge as MK 64 PDCs. 168. The Navy readily adopted the special signals because they provided an additional tactic to use against Soviet submarines—a tactic otherwise not permitted in peacetime. The organizational process model, properly applied, should predict that the Navy would support, rather than resist, this civilian intrusion into its operations. 169. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 122-24; Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988; Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988. 170. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 122-24; "DOD Operations," p. 5; Edelman, letter to author, March 25, 1988; Gayler, letter to author, March 22, 1988; Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988. 171. Caldwell, letter to author, March 14, 1988. 172. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 120-25; Johns, "Naval Quarantine," p. 147. 173. "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 11. The two Soviet submarines in the Caribbean attempted, with little success, to maintain surveillance of the two U.S. attack carriers operating south of Cuba. 174. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Dickey letter to author, April 20, 1988. 175. Ironically, aggressive Navy ASW operations may have inadvertently delayed receipt of the recall order by the Soviet submarines. 259

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis 176. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 120-25; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 435; Lassell, letter to author, May 11, 1988; Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Morrison, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Riediger, letter to author, April 11, 1988; Durbin, letter to author, March 15, 1988. 177. Morrison, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Dinwiddie, letter to author, April 28, 1988. 178. The two major Navy reports on the crisis do not mention any weapons incidents. See "CNO Historical Narrative"; "CINCLANT Historical Account." The CNO contends there were no weapons incidents. Anderson, interview by author, January 25, 1988. Five of the officers who tracked confirmed Soviet submarines stated there were no weapons incidents (the contacts they tracked are given in parentheses): Christiansen (C-18 and C-19), interview by author, February 3, 1988; Morrison (C-18 and C-19), interview by author, February 3, 1988; Morgan (C-19), letter to author, April 7, 1988; Rozier (C-20/26), interview by author, January 30, 1988; Edelman (C-21), letter to author, March 25, 1988. Three other officers who tracked confirmed Soviet submarines stated that they did not know of any weapons incidents: Dickey (C-20/26), letter to author, April 20, 1988; Dinwiddie (C-21), letter to author, April 28, 1988; Hayden (C-21), letter to author, May 10, 1988 (Commander Hayden was in charge of tracking contact C-21 while it trailed the Enterprise carrier task group). These responses cover four of the five confirmed Soviet submarines. The fifth confirmed contact (C-23) was tracked by ASW aircraft from VP-56 and VS-26. The commanders of those two squadrons could not be located, but Navy records indicate that no weapons were used in the tracking of contact C-23. Five other Navy officers who participated in ASW operations also stated that there were no weapons incidents: Gayler, letter to author, March 22, 1988; Foust, letter to author, March 10, 1988; Kent, March 25, 1988; Doty, letter to author, March 17, 1988; Small, letter to author, June 20, 1988. 179. Abel, p. 155. 180. Rear Admiral Christiansen and Captain Morrison, who tracked contacts C-18 and C-19, and Captain Rozier, who tracked contact C-20/ 26, did not know about the special signals. Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Morrison, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988. 181. This probably explains the incident related to Sagan by a senior Navy officer, in which a zealous commander dropped depth charges on a contact. Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," p. 117. As Sagan suggests, the charges undoubtedly were hand grenades or PDCs, which were authorized, and were dropped in order to send the special signals approved by McNamara. Commanding Officers were authorized to use 260

4. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis the special signals at their own discretion; there was no requirement to get permission from higher authority. Some HUK Group Commanders may have controlled use of the explosive signals themselves for coordination purposes—the explosive signals could interfere with "Julie" explosive echo ranging. 182. Faubion, letter to author, February 29, 1988. 183. Lassell, letter to author. May 11, 1988. 184. "CINCLANT Historical Account," pp. 122-24; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 435; Christiansen, interview by author, February 3, 1988; Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988. 185. Rozier, interview by author, January 30, 1988. 186. Wissman, letter to author, March 4, 1988; Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 435. 187. Allison, p. 138. Other authors have made similar incorrect assertions. Nathan, seriously distorting Robert Kennedy's account of the October 24 morning EXCOMM meeting, contends that "the Navy began to force Soviet subs to the surface in order to defend its blockade —well before Kennedy had authorized contact with surface vessels." Nathan asserts, with no apparent evidence, that the President was "horrified" when he found out that the Navy intended to surface Soviet submarines. Nathan, pp. 261-62. Similarly, Garthoff contends that the President and the EXCOMM did not discuss the issue of dealing with Soviet submarines until October 23, that the Navy used PDC's to signal Soviet submarines without the knowledge of higher authorities, and that neither the President nor the EXCOMM recognized or weighed the risks posed by Navy anti-submarine operations. Garthoff, Reflections, p. 69. In actuality, Soviet submarines were discussed by the President and the EXCOMM as early as October 16, submarines were deliberately included in directives for the quarantine that the President reviewed and McNamara approved on October 21, and the use of PDC's was directed by McNamara as a means of reducing the risks posed by Navy anti-submarine operations. 188. Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," p. 38. Steinbruner expands upon this argument in "Choices and Tradeoffs," pp. 541-43. For similar views, see Ball, "Nuclear War at Sea," pp. 19-20; Posen "Inadvertent Nuclear War?" p. 31; Bundy, Danger and Survival, p. 422; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, p. 119. For a more accurate and balanced view, see Gottfried and Blair, p. 195. 189. Steinbruner and other reasearchers have been led astray by Robert Kennedy's account of the October 24 morning EXCOMM meeting. See Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 69-70. President Kennedy was gravely concerned about the danger of a confrontation with a Soviet submarine not because he had been unaware of Navy ASW operations, but rather because he had authorized the Navy to use force against submarines that attempted to interfere with the quarantine. 261

4. The ¡962 Cuban Missile Crisis 190. CINCLANT 232105Z OCT 62. 191. There was at least one instance of decoupling involving the Air Force. An Air Force U-2 strayed over the Soviet Union on October 27, prompting the Soviets and Americans to scramble fighters—an incident decoupled from the President's crisis management strategy. 192. Hilsman, To Move a Nation, pp. 216-17; Holsti, Crisis Escalation War, pp. 187-92. 193. Sharp, letter to author, February 24, 1988. 194. Carmichael, letter to author, March 8,1988. 195. Cohen, p. 6. Contrary to Cohen's implication, one man, Major Rudolph Anderson, was killed in action when his U-2 was shot down by a Soviet missile. Additionally, several men died in aircraft accidents. See Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 680-82. Nevertheless, the reaction of the Joint Chiefs to the downing of the U-2 supports Cohen's analysis. 196. See McNamara's comments in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p. 63. 197. "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 66-71, 74,78. 198. "CINCLANT Historical Account," p. 45. 199. Sharp, letter to author, February 24, 1988; Caldwell, letter to author, March 14, 1988. 200. Rear Admiral Shepard related to the author a statement the President made to the Joint Chiefs after the crisis: "We had the upper hand in Cuba, but we did not have the upper hand in other theaters. The Russians might have taken action against Berlin or Turkey." Shepard, interview by author, February 10, 1988. Also see CIA, SNIE 1119-62, p. 9; Kennedy, Thirteen Days, pp. 58, 60, 98; "October 27 Meetings Transcript," pp. 54-55; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," p. 111. 201. See the comments by McNamara, Ball, Schlesinger, Dillon, and Neustadt in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 62-65,70-72, 8688,108, 186-87. 202. See the comments by McNamara and Nitze in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 63, 148. 203. Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988. 204. Caldwell, letter to author, March 14, 1988. 205. Griffin, letter to author, April 6, 1988. Also see Chew, "Reminiscences," pp.317-18. 206. "CNO Historical Narrative," pp. 39-40. 207. Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 550. 208. Ibid., p. 553. 209. Sharp, letter to author, February 24,1988. 210. Riley, "Reminiscences," p. 754. Douglas Dillon, a member of the EXCOMM during the crisis, expressed similar views in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, p. 155. 262

5. The ¡967 Arab-Israeli War 211. Quoted in Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 85-86. McNamara, on the other hand, states that he himself did not feel estranged from the military and that he is glad that all of the Joint Chiefs were not on the EXCOMM because it would have increased pressure for early military action. Blight and Welch, On the Brink, pp. 71, 86. 212. Anderson, "Reminiscences," p. 549; Griffin, "Reminiscences," p. 555; Houser, interview by author, February 11, 1988; Carmichael, letter to author, March 8, 1988. 213. Dennison, "Reminiscences," p. 421. 214. Ward, "Reminiscences," p. 199. 215. Rivero, letter to author, March 10, 1988. 5. THE 1967 ARAB-ISRAELI

WAR

1. See Draper, Israel and World Politics, pp. 85-115; Safran, Israel: The Embattled Ally, pp. 381-413; Brecher, Decisions in Crisis, pp. 5176. 2. On the 1967 War, see O'Ballance, The Third Arab-Israeli War; Churchill and Churchill, The Six Day War; Young, The Israeli Campaign; Safran, pp. 240—56; Brecher, pp. 91-170. 3. See "The Situation in the Middle East: Statement by President Johnson," May 23, 1967, U.S. Congress, Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, A Select Chronology and Background Documents Relating to the Middle East, pp. 211 — 13 (cited hereafter as Foreign Relations Committee, Select Chronology); Lyndon B. Johnson, The Vantage Point, pp. 290-96; "U.S. Seeks Backing on an Aqaba Test," New York Times, June 1, 1967, p. 1; "U.S. Drafts Plan to Assert Rights of Aqaba Passage," New York Times, June 1, 1967. p. 1. Also see Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 37-59; Spiegel, "The U.S. Approach to Conflict Resolution," in Ben-Dor and Dewitt, eds.. Conflict Management in the Middle East, pp.166-67. 4. Johnson, pp. 288-300; "U.S. Seeks to Hold a Neutral Stance," New York Times, June 6, 1967, p. 1; "U.N. Impasse Ends," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 1. Also see Quandt, pp. 60-63; Howe, Multicrises, p p . 9 0 - 9 4 . 5. Johnson, pp. 288-300; Secretary of State Dean Rusk, "News Briefing at the White House," p. 950. Also see Quandt, pp. 60-63; Howe, Multicrises, pp. 90-94 6. "Johnson Pleased by Gains on Truce," New York Times, June 9, 1967, p. 1; Sidey, "Over the hot line," p. 24B; Johnson, pp. 298-302; Howe, pp. 91-92, 103. 7. Ulam, pp. 732-34; MacFarlane, "The Soviet Union and Conflict Management," pp. 187-207. For a critique of Soviet policy in 1967, see Khrushchev, Last Testament, pp. 344-46.

263

5. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War 8. "Moscow Demands Israel Quit Egypt," New York Times, June 6, 1967, p. 1; "U.N. Impasse Ends," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 1; Howe, pp. 114-16. 9. Wells, "The June 1967 Arab-Israeli War," p. 166; Johnson, p. 302; Howe, pp. 104-6, 122. Also see Fukuyama, "Nuclear Shadowboxing," pp.583-84. 10. On U.S. communications capabilities in 1967, see U.S. Congress, House Committee on Armed Services, Review of Department of Defense Worldwide Communications, Phase I. Also see Blair, pp. 51-65; Carter, pp. 233-57; Head, Short, and McFarlane, Crisis Resolution, pp. 85-99. 11. Rear Admiral J. C. Wylie, Deputy Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe during the crisis, letter to author, March 28, 1988. 12. Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, Commander in Chief Atlantic during the crisis, interview by author, February 9, 1988. Admiral Horacio Rivero, Vice CNO during the crisis, states there was close control "to the extent of the JCS directing COMSIXTHFLT to proceed to a certain latitude and longitude, or to operate not less than X miles from the coast." Rivero, letter to author, March 10, 1988. According to Vice Admiral Donald D. Engen, Commanding Officer of USS America (CVA 66) during the crisis, the movements and operations of the carriers were not closely controlled from Washington, other than a requirement that the carriers operate in the vicinity of specific points rather than being allowed to roam at will. Vice Admiral Donald D. Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988. This restriction appears to have been imposed by the Navy chain of command in order to facilitate control of the carriers' movements in response to White House signaling efforts. 13. Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988 14. See the comments by Vice Admiral Martin and Rear Admiral Geis in "Admirals Cite Options," New York Times, June 1, 1967, p. 18. 15. Admiral Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988; Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988; Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988; "2nd Russian Ship Watches Carrier," New York Times, June 8, 1967, p. 14. 16. Wells, p. 168. Also see Dismukes, "Soviet Employment of Naval Power," p. 497. 17. "Soviet is Sending 10 More Warships to Middle East," New York Times, May 31, 1967, p. 1; "Soviet Ships Transit Straits," New York Times, June 1, 1967, p. 18; "Soviet Ships in Bosporous," New York Times, June 4, 1967, p. 4; "A Larger Soviet Vessel Follows U.S. Carrier in the Mediterranean," New York Times, June 4, 1967, p. 4. Also see Wells, pp. 160-62; Dismukes, p. 497. 18. "Soviet is Sending 10 More Warships to Middle East," New York Times, May 31, 1967, p. 1. 19. Sick, "Russia and the West," p. 57. 264

5. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War 20. The western Mediterranean extends from the Strait of Gibralter to Corsica, Sardinia and the north coast of Tunisia, including the Alboran and Ligurian Seas. The central Mediterranean extends from Corsica and Sardinia to the southern tip of Greece, including the Tyrrhenian, Ionian and Adriatic Seas. The eastern Mediterranean extends from the southern tip of Greece eastward, including the Sea of Crete and the Aegean Sea. 21. "Johnson Calls on Cairo to Abandon Blockade Moves," New York Times, May 24, 1967, p. 1; "Soviet Watching U.S. Fleet," New York Times, May 31, 1967, p. 16; "2 U.S. Carriers Continue Air Exercises Near Crete," New York Times, June 3, 1967, p. 12; "Soviet Destroyer off Malta," New York Times, June 3, 1967, p. 31; "Two U.S. Carriers Staying in Place," New York Times, June 6, 1967, p. 18; J. C. Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," p. 58; Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988. Also see Dismukes, p. 497; Howe p. 69; Sick, p. 56; Wells, p. 164. 22. "Soviet Watching U.S. Fleet," New York Times, May 31, 1967, p. 16; "Soviet Destroyer off Malta," New York Times, June 3, 1967, p. 31; "A Larger Soviet Vessel Follows U.S. Carrier in Mediterranean," New York Times, June 4, 1967, p. 4; "Two U.S. Carriers Staying in Place," New York Times, June 6, 1967, p. 18. Also see Wells pp. 162-64; Dismukes. pp. 497-98; Howe, p. 117. 23. Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," p. 59. Rear Admiral Wylie, who participated in the crisis at CINCUSNAVEUR, emphasizes that these restrictions were originally imposed by the Navy chain of command, rather than the White House: "The naval command estimated, correctly as it turned out, that the United States policy would be to stand aloof from military involvement if possible, to play the United States military role in as low a key as possible in order to give the greatest scope for diplomatic maneuver, but to be ready and on hand." Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," p. 59. 24. "Navy Says One Plane Flew Near War Zone," New York Times, June 10, 1967, p. 22; "6th Fleet Ships in State of Alert," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 17; "2nd Russian Ship Watches Carrier," New York Times, June 8, 1967, p. 14; Howe, p. 93. The ships of the Sixth Fleet were ordered to readiness condition three, a Navy readiness designation unrelated to the DEFCON system. Navy ships were normally at "Condition IV," defined as normal peacetime steaming. At "Condition III" the ships put additional crewmen on watch and manned weapon systems normally left unmanned. 25. Wells observes that "the U.S. and U.K. went to considerable pains to show that they did not intend to use their naval forces offensively." Wells, p. 164. Also see Howe, p. 93. 26. Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," pp. 58-59; Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988; Wells, p. 164; USS America (CVA 67), Ship's History, 1967. 265

5. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War 27. Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988. Also see Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," p. 59; Wells, p. 164. 28. Howe, p. 95, quoting Rear Admiral Guise, commander of the carrier task force; "6th Fleet Ships in State of Alert," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 17. 29. "U.S. Denies Charges By Cairo It Helps Foe," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 1; "2nd Russian Ship Watches Carrier," New York Times, June 8, 1967, p. 14; Johnson, p. 302; Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," p. 59. Also see Dupuy, Elusive Victory, p. 269; Laqueur, The Struggle for the Middle East, p. 155; Howe, pp. 99-102; Sick p. 56; Wells, p. 165. Egyptian President Nasser would later admit that no U.S. planes had attacked Egypt. "Envoys Say Nasser Now Concedes U.S. Didn't Help Israel," New York Times, September 16, 1967, p. 3; Howe, p. 119. 30. "Russians Continue to Harass 6th Fleet," New York Times, June 9, 1967, p. 1. Also see Howe, p. 177n; Wells, p. 215n. The Soviets have been known to harass U.S. ships tracking their submarines on other occasions as well. For a description of a similar incident in 1972, see Hilton, "The US-Soviet Incidents at Sea Treaty," pp. 30-31. 31. Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988; "Admiral Says Soviet Shadowing Often Imperils Ships in 6th Fleet," New York Times, June 1, 1967, p. 18. There had also been two serious incidents in the Sea of Japan on May 10 and 11, when two Soviet destroyers collided with the destroyer USS Walker (DD 517) while maneuvering in the midst of an ASW carrier formation. This incident received front-page headlines in the United States and was on the minds of Navy commanders in the Mediterranean. On the Walker, see "A U.S. Destroyer In Far East Bumped By Soviet Warship," New York Times, May 11, 1967, p. 1; "Soviet Warship Bumps U.S. Vessel 2nd Time in 2 Days," New York Times, May 12, 1967, p. 1. 32. Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988. 33. USS America (CVA 67), Ship's History, 1967; Howe, pp. 96, 1034. 34. Johnson, p. 302; Howe, pp. 106-8; Wells, pp. 165-66. 35. Johnson, p. 302. 36. Howe, pp. 106-8; Wells, pp. 165-66. 37. "6th Fleet Ships in State of Alert," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 17; "2nd Russian Ship Watches Carrier," New York Times, June 8, 1967, p. 14. Also see Wells, p. 164; Dismukes, p. 497. 38. Wells, p. 164. 39. Wells claims that Soviet ships in the Mediterranean comprised two anti-carrier groups. Wells, p. 160. If this were the case, the Soviet ships would have been organized into two distinct groups with a cruise missile-armed ship in each, one group within missile range of each carrier. This pattern was never observed during the crisis. Although

266

5. The 1967 Arab-Israeli

War

the two Soviet cruise missile-armed ships occasionally moved to within missile range of the U.S. carriers, they did not make a concerted effort to keep the carriers in their sights. 40. Engen, letter to a u t h o r March 21, 1988; Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988; Wells, p. 165. 41. U.S. Congress, House Committee on Armed services, Review of Department of Defense Worldwide Communications, Phase I, pp. 6 - 1 7 ; Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988; " O r d e r Didn't Get to USS Liberty," New York Times, June 9, 1967, p. 1; Ennes, Assault on the Liberty, pp. 5 1 - 5 4 , 291-300; Goulding, Confirm or Deny, pp. 130-32. 42. Ennes, pp. 70—124; Goulding, pp. 93-113; "Israelis, in Error, Attack U.S. Navy Ship," New York Times, J u n e 9, 1967, p. 1; "U.S. Investigating Attack on Vessel," New York Times, J u n e 10, 1967, p. 15; Smith, "The Violation of the Liberty," pp. 64—68. For the Israeli version of the attack, see Israeli Defense Forces, "Preliminary Inquiry," Decision of Examining Judge Sgan Alux Y. Yerulshalmi, Preliminary Inquiry File 1/67, July 21, 1967; Nitzan, " C o m m e n t a n d Discussion," pp. 111-12; Goodman and Schiff, "The Attack on the Liberty," pp. 7 8 84. 43. Ennes, pp. 89-92, 118-19. Ennes has claimed that the Israelis j a m m e d Liberty's radios, but this cannot be substantiated and could well have been electromagnetic interference rather than deliberate j a m m i n g . There were no reports from Sixth Fleet units of communications j a m m i n g during the attack on Liberty. What Liberty's radiomen detected was probably Israeli electronic countermeasures (ECM) intended to j a m air search and fire control radars, which would have been normal if the Israeli pilots thought they were attacking an a r m e d warship. 44. USS Saratoga (CVA 60) message, USS SARATOGA 081235Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Saratoga was relaying over radioteletype a report received over HF/SSB voice radio. Saratoga probably preceded the radioteletype message with a voice radio report to CTF 60 (the Carrier Strike Force commander). 45. USS Saratoga message, USS SARATOGA 081237Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. 46. USS Saratoga message, USS SARATOGA 081245Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. 47. USS Saratoga message, USS SARATOGA 081254Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. 48. Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988. There was no question that Vice Admiral Martin had authority to use force to defend Liberty. Admiral Horacio Rivero, Vice Chief of Naval Operations in 1967, has stated, in reference to the Liberty incident, that " n o c o m m a n d e r needs permission to defend himself, his forces, or other U.S. forces under

267

5. The 1967 Arab-Israeli War attack when he can assist. Any commander who asks permission to do so, instead of acting first, should be relieved." Rivero, letter to author, March 10, 1988. 49. Commander Sixth Fleet message, COMSIXTHFLT 081250Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. 50. Commander Sixth Fleet message, COMSIXTHFLT 081320Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967; Commander Sixth Fleet message, COMSIXTHFLT 081305Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967; Ennes, pp. 89-90. 51. COMSIXTHFLT 081320Z JUN 67. 52. Commander Sixth Fleet message, COMSIXTHFLT 081339Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. 53. Commander Sixth Fleet message, COMSIXTHFLT 081336Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. 54. Ennes, pp. 89-92, 118-19; Goulding, pp. 97-98. 55. "Secretary Rusk and Secretary of Defense McNamara Discuss Viet-Nam and Korea on 'Meet the Press'," Department of State Bulletin, p. 271. Also see Goulding, p. 97; Authorization for Military Procurement, Research and Development, Fiscal Year 1969, p. 47 (cited hereafter as Authorization for Military Procurement, 1969); Howe, p. 102. 56. Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988; Rear Admiral Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988; Rivero, letter to author, March 10, 1988. Also see Howe, p. 103; Wells, p. 167; Williams, p. 118. 57. Johnson, Vantage Point, p. 301. Also see Sidey, "Over the Hot Line," p. 24B. 58. "6th Fleet Ships in State of Alert," New York Times, June 7, 1967, p. 17; Wylie, "Sixth Fleet," p. 59. 59. Wells, p. 167. 60. "Soviet Watching U.S. Fleet," New York Times, May 31, 1967, p. 16; "Admiral Says Soviet Shadowing Often Imperils Ships of 6th Fleet," New York Times, June 1, 1967, p. 18; "A Larger Soviet Vessel Follows U.S. Carrier in Mediterranean," New York Times, June 4, 1967, p. 4. 61. Wells, p. 165. 62. A conclusion shared by Dismukes, p. 498; Fukuyama, pp. 59597; Wells, pp. 166-67. 63. Sick, p. 57. 64. Engen, letter to author, March 21, 1988; Wylie, letter to author, March 28, 1988; Rivero, letter to author, March 10, 1988. 65. Ibid. 6. THE 1973 ARAB-ISRAELI

WAR

1. See Dayan, Story of My Life, pp. 459-539; Herzog, The War of Atonement, pp. 68-250. Also see Schiff, October Earthquake; Heikal, The Road to Ramadan, pp. 29-35, 207-43; Safran, Israel: The Embattled Ally, pp. 282-311; Dupuy, Elusive Victory, pp. 411-546; Brecher, Deci268

6. The 1973 Arab-Israeli War sions in Crisis, pp. 171-229; The Insight Team of the London Sunday Times, The Yom Kippur War, pp. 133-246, 289-346, 383-98 (cited hereafter as Insight Team); Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 450-611; Whetten, The Canal War, pp. 233-84; Glassman, Arms for the Arabs, pp. 125-38. 2. Kissinger, "Secretary Kissinger's News Conference of October 12," Department of State Bulletin, pp. 534-35; Kissinger, "Secretary Kissinger's News Conference of October 25," Department of State Bulletin, pp. 585-86; Nixon, Memoirs, pp. 921-22; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 467-68, 475, 531; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 17173, 184. Also see Safran, p. 478; Dowty, Middle East Crisis, pp. 221-26, 231, 247, 274; Sheehan, The Arabs, Israelis, and Kissinger, pp. 32-33, 53-55. Some observers also claim U.S. leaders feared that Israel would use nuclear weapons if threatened with catastrophic defeat, and that a U.S. objective was to avert such a threat. See Aronson, Conflict and Bargaining, pp. 178-79; Dowty, pp. 244-45; Insight Team, pp. 282-84. 3. Nixon, Memoirs, pp. 921-22; Kissinger, "News Conference of October 12," p. 535; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 478,490; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 171-73; Dowty, pp. 216-17, 226-27, 294-96; Luttwak and Laqueur, "Kissinger and the Yom Kippur War," pp. 3839. 4. Quandt, Soviet Policy, pp. 7-12; Golan, Yom Kippur and After, p. 74; Golan, "Soviet Decisionmaking in the Yom Kippur War," pp. 19899, 202; Safran, p. 479; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 469; Aronson, p. 183. 5. Rubinstein, Red Star, pp. 262-63; Safran, p. 479; Golan, "Soviet Decisionmaking," pp. 199-202; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 469; Glassman, pp. 171-73. 6. WSAG membership varied, but generally included Henry Kissinger, Secretary of State and Assistant to the President for National Security Affairs, James Schlesinger, Secretary of Defense, William Colby, CIA Director, Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Brent Scowcroft, Deputy Assistant to the President for National Security Affairs, William Clements, Deputy Secretary of Defense, Kenneth Rush, Deputy Secretary of State, and, for meetings on the Middle East, Joseph Sisco, Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern and South Asian Affairs. Quandt, Decade of Decisions, p. 173. 7. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," pp. V-l, V-5. Also see U.S. Congress, House Committee on Armed Services, Review of Department of Defense Worldwide Communications, Phase II, pp. 16490-502; Blair, Strategic Command and Control, pp. 51-65; Carter, "Communications Technologies and Vulnerabilities," in Carter, Steinbruner, and Zraket, eds.. Managing Nuclear Operations, pp. 233-57; Head, Short and McFarlane, Crisis Resolution, pp. 85-99; Marshall, 269

6. The 1973 Arab-Israeli War "Communications and Command Prerogative," p. 31; Mitchell, " T h e Navy's Mission in Space," p. 25; Gottfried and Blair, Crisis Stability, pp.111-20. 8. Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988. 9. Zumwalt, interview by author, February 16, 1988. Also see Zumwalt. On Watch, p. 436. 10. Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. Also see Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 436. 11. Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988. 12. Zumwalt, interview by author, February 16, 1988. 13. Morin, letter to author, April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989. 14. Zumwalt, interview by author, February 16, 1988; Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989. 15. Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988; Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988; Vice Admiral Joe P. Moorer, Commander Carrier Group Six and commander of the Kennedy carrier task group, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Morin, letter to author, April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989. 16. Zumwalt, interview by author, February 16, 1988. The injunctions were restrictions on the Sixth Fleet's movements, described in greater detail below. 17. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 462; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, p. 167. 18. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 492-97. 19. Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 198-99. Also see Gottfried and Blair, pp. 204-5. 20. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 587-91; Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988; Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 443; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 196-98; Blechman and Hart, " T h e Political Utility of Nuclear Weapons," pp. 132-56; Garthoff, Detente and Confrontation, pp. 374-84; Betts, Nuclear Blackmail, pp. 123-29. 21. Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 587-91; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 196-98; "U.S. Forces Put on Worldwide Alert Lest Soviet Send Troops to Mideast," New York Times, October 26, 1973, p. 1; "Kissinger Says Action is Expression of Policy," New York Times, October 26, 1973, p. 20; "Nixon's Motives in Alert Questioned and Defended," New York Times, October 26, 1973, p. 20. Also see Sagan, "Lessons of the Yom Kippur Alert," pp. 160-77; Sagan, "Nuclear Alerts," pp. 122-28; Hurwitz, "Threat Perception," pp. 135-44; Steinbruner, "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises," p. 43; Dowty, pp. 256-58, 274-77; Gottfried and Blair, pp.200-3.

270

6. The 1973 Arab-Israeli War 22. "Agreement Between the Government of the United States of America and the Government of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on the Prevention of Incidents On and Over the High Seas," Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, World Armaments and Disarmament: SIPRI Yearbook, 1973 (New York: Humanities Press, 1972), pp. 36-39; "Protocol to the Agreement Between the Government of the United States of America and the Government of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on the Prevention of Incidents On and Over the High Seas," signed May 25, 1973, U.S. Department of State, United States Treaties and Other International Agreements, pp. 1063-64. Also see Wolf, "Agreement at Sea," pp. 57-80; Hilton, "The U.S.-Soviet Incidents at Sea Treaty," pp. 30-37; Lynn-Jones, "The Incidents at Sea Agreement," pp. 482-509. 23. Miller, "As I Recall," pp. 60-61; Morin, letter to author, April 14, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989. Soviet behavior in the 1970 Jordanian crisis is illustrative of the improvement. See Kidd, "View From the Bridge," pp. 25-28; Bryson, "The Projection of U.S. Naval Power," pp. 313-21; Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 292-301. 24. Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 25. Quoted in Golan, Yom Kippur and After, p. 109. Also see Glassman, p. 162. 26. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. VI-7; Robert G. Weinland, "Superpower Naval Diplomacy in the October 1973 Arab-Israeli War," p. 79; Watson, Red Navy at Sea, p. 103; Roberts, "The October 1973 Arab-Israeli War," pp. 193-94. The following description of U.S. and Soviet naval operations will not mention all ship movements and will omit details of ship classes except when essential for understanding threat implications. For details, see Bouchard, "Use of Naval Force in Crises," pp. 783-829. 27. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. III-5, III10; Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 436-37; Moorer, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16,1989; Miller, "Those Stormbeaten Ships," pp. 22-23. 28. Weinland, p. 81; Dupuy, p. 562. 29. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. III-9; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 455,475; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, p. 171; "Ships of Sixth Fleet Sail Under Alert," New York Times, October 8, 1973, p. 16; "U.S. Warships Sail from Greece Unexpectedly," The Times (London), October 8, 1973, p. 6; Roberts, p. 196; Weinland, p. 69. 30. Quandt, Decade of Decisions, p. 171. 31. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 475. Also see Weinland, p. 72; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, p. 171. 32. Quoted in Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 435.

271

6. The 1973 Arab-Israeli War 33. Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 437, 447; Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," pp. VI-7, VI-8; Weinland, pp. 80-81; Roberts, p. 198; Glassman, p. 162. 34. Quoted in Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 437. 35. Ibid.; Watson, p. 106; Roberts, p. 196; Glassman, p. 162. 36. Roberts, p. 196. Also see Golan, "Soviet Decisionmaking," p. 202.

37. See Gregory, "Their Tattletales," pp. 97-99. 38. Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 300-1. 39. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. III-4; Dixon, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989; Watson, p. 116; Miller, "Storm-beaten Ships," p. 24; Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 300-1. 40. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. III-5; Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 436; "Another U.S. Ship Sent," New York Times, October 12, 1973, p. 18; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 50910; Weinland. p. 70. 41. "Israel Is Accused in U.N. of Sinking a Soviet Ship," New York Times, October 13, 1973, p. 1; "3 Freighters Sunk," New York Times, October 13, 1973, p. 1; Golan. "Soviet Decisionmaking," p. 203; Schiff, p. 167; Dupuy, p. 559; Weinland, p. 81; Watson, p. 106; Roberts, p. 201. Israel may not have been alone in sinking civilian ships during the war: Egyptian submarines allegedly sank two Greek freighters. See Herzog, The War of Atonement, pp. 263-64. On Arab-Israeli naval battles, see Erell, "Israeli Saar FPBs," pp. 115-18; Miller, "The Israeli Navy," pp. 49-54; Dupuy, pp. 557-65; Herzog, pp. 261-69. Bruce Watson has noted suspicions that the Israeli attacks on Soviet vessels may not have been accidental, but intended to pressure the United States—by threat of independent action against the Soviet supply line —to replace Israeli losses of equipment and supplies. Watson, p. 106. Israel also destroyed several Soviet transport aircraft on Syrian airfields during raids on October 10 and 11. Weinland, p. 81; Glassman, p. 130. 42. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 510. 43. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. VI-8; Weinland, pp. 81-82; Roberts, pp. 193, 201. 44. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. III-5; Morin, letter to author, April 14, 1988; Moorer, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Dixon, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989; Miller, "Storm-beaten Ships," pp. 20-22; Weinland, pp. 69-70. Defense of the U.S. transports was a serious consideration. In addition to the threat of Egyptian or Syrian attacks, there was a threat of Libyan attacks. On March 21, 1973, Libyan jets had fired on a U.S. Air Force C-130 eighty-three miles off the coast. 45. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 436. 272

6. The ¡973 Arab-Israeli War 46. Weinland, p. 73. 47. Roberts, p. 196; Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 437. 48. Quoted in Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 437. 49. Ibid, pp. 437-38. 50. The rotation of ships on October 16 was probably required by logistics, rather than motivated by political or strategic concerns. Soviet Navy underway replenishment techniques were not well developed in 1973; the Soviets could not resupply their ships while they trailed the U.S. carrier groups. Instead, they had to periodically relieve their ships so that they could be refueled at one of the anchorages where the Soviets kept their replenishment ships. 51. Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 439, 447; Watson, p. 106; Roberts, p. 194; Glassman, pp. 161-62. 52. Weinland, p. 83. Also see Glassman, pp. 162-63. 53. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 447; Roberts, p. 203. 54. Weinland, p. 83; Watson, p. 114; Roberts, p. 203; Golan, "Soviet Decisionmaking," pp. 209-10; Miller, "Storm-beaten Ships," p. 24. 55. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 589. Also see Weinland, p. 90. 56. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," pp. III-5, III-6; Zumwalt, On Watch, pp. 443, 447; Miller, "Storm-beaten Ships," pp. 23-24; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 589; Weinland, pp. 70-71, 74; Roberts, p. 204. 57. Schlesinger, "Secretary of Defense Schlesinger's News Conference of October 26," Department of State Bulletin, p. 620. 58. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," p. VI-8; Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 447; Roberts, p. 206. 59. Schlesinger, "News Conference of October 26," p. 621; Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 447; Weinland, p. 74; Roberts, pp. 195, 204, 206. 60. Petersen, "Showing the Flag," p. 105. 61. Roberts, p. 210. 62. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 436; Weinland, p. 74. 63. Morin, letter to author, April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to author, April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to author, January 16, 1989; Glassman, p. 162. 64. Quoted in Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 447. 65. Ibid., p. 446. 66. Weinland, p. 75. 67. Commander Sixth Fleet, "Command History 1973," pp. III-6, III-10, VI-8; "U.S. Carrier Force Is Sent Toward the Indian Ocean," New York Times, October 30, 1973, p. 1; Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 447; Weinland, pp. 77, 85; Watson, p. 111; Roberts, pp. 194, 206. 68. Dismukes, "Soviet Employment of Naval Power," p. 502. Also see Aronson, p. 195; Dowty, pp. 275-76; Sicherman, "The Yom Kippur War," p. 53. 69. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 446. 273

6. The 1973 Arab-Israeli

War

70. Quoted in Watson, p. 107. 71. Engen, letter to a u t h o r , April 25, 1988; Moorer, letter to a u t h o r , April 18, 1988; Morin, letter to a u t h o r , April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to a u t h o r , April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to a u t h o r , J a n u a r y 16, 1989; Glassman, p. 162; Roberts, p. 196. 72. Engen, letter to a u t h o r , April 25, 1988; Morin, letter to a u t h o r , April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to a u t h o r , April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to a u t h o r , J a n u a r y 16, 1989. Weinland states that the Sixth Fleet " w a s not challenged directly by any of the belligerents." Weinland, p. 71. 73. Roberts, p. 196. 74. Z u m w a l t , interview by a u t h o r , February 16, 1988; Z u m w a l t , On Watch, p. 436; Engen, letter to a u t h o r , April 25, 1988. 75. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 475, 587-89; Weinland, pp. 7 1 - 7 3 , 75, 90; S a f r a n , p. 494. 76. Z u m w a l t , interview by a u t h o r , February 16, 1988. 77. Engen, letter to a u t h o r , April 25, 1988. 78. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 475, 5 0 9 - 1 0 . Also see Watson, p . 114; Roberts, pp. 196, 203, 210; Golan, "Soviet Decisionmaking," p p . 202, 209-10; Weinland, p. 89. 79. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 470; Q u a n d t , Decade of Decision, p p . 171, 183; Nixon, pp. 9 2 0 - 4 2 . 80. Z u m w a l t , On Watch, p. 437. 81. Morin, letter to a u t h o r , April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to a u t h o r , April 18, 1988; Colbus, letter to a u t h o r , J a n u a r y 16, 1989; Glassman, p. 162. 82. Dixon, letter to a u t h o r , April 18, 1988. 83. Watson, p p . 115-16. 84. Quoted in Glassman, p. 162. 85. Aronson, p. 195. Also see Dowty, pp. 275-76; S i c h e r m a n , p. 53. 86. Z u m w a l t , On Watch, p. 446. 87. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 475. 88. Ibid., p. 599. 89. Quoted in Valeriani, Travels With Henry, pp. 181-82. 90. Z u m w a l t , interview by a u t h o r , February 16, 1988. 91. Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 92. Z u m w a l t , On Watch, p. 436. 93. Joint Chiefs of Staff message, JCS 250737Z OCT 73, October 25, 1973. Also see Sagan, " N u c l e a r Alerts," p. 128; Gottfried and Blair, p. 205. 94. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, p. 475. 95. Weinland, p. 80. 96. Ibid. 97. On how Kissinger's views evolved during the crisis, see Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 4 6 9 , 4 7 4 - 7 5 , 497, 507-10, 518-19, 5 7 8 - 9 1 . 98. Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 274

7. Findings and Conclusions 99. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 436. 100. Andrews, "The Prevention of Preemptive Attack," p. 128. 101. Gorsbko\, Red Star Rising at Sea, pp. 131-132; Petersen, "AboutFace in Soviet Tactics," pp. 57-63; Zimm, "The First Salvo," pp. 5560; Fitzgerald, "Blitzkrieg at Sea," pp. 33-38. 102. Train, "Decision Making and Managing Ambiguity," p. 306. 103. See Kidd, "View From the Bridge," 18-29; Turner and Thibault, "Countering the Soviet Threat," pp. 25-32; Parker, "Thinking Offensively," pp. 26-31; Ruhe, "Antiship Missiles," pp. 60-65; Andrews, "Prevention of Preemptive Attack," pp. 126-39. 104. Glaeser, "Guerrilla Warfare at Sea," p. 42. 105. On October 31, the height of the Soviet buildup in the Mediterranean, the first salvo would have been about twenty-six missiles against each U.S. carrier. 106. Zumwalt, interview by author, February 16, 1988; Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 107. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 436; Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 108. Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 109. T.H. Moorer, interview by author, February 9, 1988. 110. Morin, letter to author, April 14, 1988; Dixon, letter to author, April 18, 1988 111. Engen, letter to author, April 25, 1988. 112. Zumwalt, On Watch, p. 441. 7. FINDINGS

AND

CONCLUSIONS

1. Beaumont, "Command Method," pp. 62-5; Openchowski, "Role and Location of the Commander," pp. 12-19. 2. Van Creveld, Command in War, pp. 265-6. 3. See Lautenschlager, "Technology and the Evolution of Naval Warfare," pp. 3-51; Watkins, "The Maritime Strategy," pp. 12-14; Friedman, "C3 War at Sea," pp. 126-41. 4. Lebow, Nuclear Crisis Management, pp. 17-18.

275

BIBLIOGRAPHY

PRIMARY

SOURCES

Interviews Anderson, Admiral George W., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Chief of Naval Operations, 1961 — 1963. Interviews by author, January 25, 1988, and February 4, 1988. Augenblick, Commander Richard G., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Porterfield (DD 682) during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Interview by author, February 1, 1988. Bress, Captain Henry, U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Bristol (DD 857) during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Interview by author. May 26, 1988. Burke, Admiral Arleigh A., U.S. Navy (Retired). Chief of Naval Operations, 1955-1961. Interview by author, February 13, 1988. Butt, Captain Cyrus H., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Fiske (DDR 842) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Telephone interview by author, February 9, 1988. Christiansen, Rear Admiral Ernest E., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Division 18, commanded the USS Essex (CVS 9) ASW group during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Interview by author, February 3, 1988. Cockell, The Honorable William A., Jr., Rear Admiral, U.S. Navy (Retired). Director, Defense Policy Directorate, National Security Council. Interview by author, February 11, 1988. Houser, Vice Admiral William D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Naval Assistant to Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Interview by author, February 11, 1988. Howe, Vice Admiral Jonathan T. Assistant to the Chairman, Joint Chiefs of Staff. Interview by author, February 10, 1988. Kidd, Admiral Isaac C., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Plans officer for Commander in Chief Pacific during the 1958 Taiwan Strait crisis, Executive Assistant to the Chief of Naval Operations during the 1962

276

Bibliography Cuban Missile Crisis, and Commander Sixth Fleet during the 1970 Jordanian Crisis. Interview by author, May 2, 1990. Lee, Vice Admiral Kent L., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Air Group 6 embarked in USS Enterprise (CVAN 65) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and Commanding Officer of USS Enterprise (CVAN 65) in 1968. Interview by author, February 5, 1988. Lowe, Commander Harry C., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Dennis J. Buckley (DDR 808) during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Telephone interview by author, February 12, 1988. Lundahl, Arthur C. Director, National Photographic Intelligence Center, Central Intelligence Agency, during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Telephone interview by author, April 28, 1988. McCabe, Commander Gerry M., U.S. Navy (Retired). Assistant Naval Aide to the President and Director of the White House Situation Room during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Telephone interview by author, February 22, 1988. Moorer, Admiral Thomas H., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander in Chief U.S. Pacific Fleet during the 1964 Tonkin Gulf Incident, Commander in Chief Atlantic during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Interview by author, February 9, 1988. Morrison, Captain Charles H., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Destroyer Squadron 24, escort for USS Essex (CVS 9) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Interview by author, February 3, 1988. O'Donnell, Rear Admiral Edward J., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Naval Base Guantanamo during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Interview by author, April 27, 1988. Rawlins, Captain Robert D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Head of the International Negotiations Branch (OP-616), Politico-Military Policy Division (OP-61), Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, and member of the U.S. delegation to the Incidents at Sea Agreement negotiations in 1971. Telephone interview by author, April 5, 1988. Rozier, Captain Charles P., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Charles P. Cecil (DDR 835) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Interview by author, January 30, 1988. St. Martin, Captain Ronald, U.S. Navy (Retired). Former Director, Crisis Management Center, National Security Council. Director, Office of Program Integration, Office of the Secretary of Defense. Interview by author, February 8, 1988. Shepard, Rear Admiral Tazewell T., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Naval Aide to President John F. Kennedy, 1961-1963. Interview by author, February 10, 1988. Zumwalt, Admiral Elmo R., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Chief of Naval

277

Bibliography Operations, 1970-1974. Telephone interview by author, February 16, 1988. Letters Baker, Commander Wayne D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Catamount (LSD 17) during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Letter to author, April 11, 1988. Beakley, Vice Admiral Wallace M., U.S. Navy. Commander Seventh Fleet during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Letter to Vice Admiral A. M. Pride, September 8, 1958. Personal Papers, Box 3, Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Washington, D.C. Behm, Captain Edward W., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS McGinty (DE 365) during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Letter to author, February 19, 1988. Blackburn, Vice Admiral Paul P., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired) Commander U.S. Taiwan Patrol Force (CTF 72) during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Letter to author. May 30, 1988. Blouin, Vice Admiral Francis J., U.S. Navy (Retired). Secretary to the Joint Chiefs of Staff immediately prior to the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 29, 1988. Boyd, Rear Admiral Paul C., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Warrington (DD 843) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 26, 1988. Brady, Captain Robert E., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS John R. Perry (DE 1034) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 21, 1988. Brown, Captain Ian, U.S. Navy (Retired). Executive Officer of HS-5, embarked in USS Lake Champlain (CVS 39) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, May 27, 1988. Caldwell, Vice Admiral Turner F., U.S. Navy (Retired). Director Strategic Plans Division, Office of the Chief of Naval Operations (OP-60), during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letters to author, March 14 and April 27, 1988. Carmichael, Captain John H., U.S. Navy (Retired). Assistant Director, Fleet Operations Division, Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, and Director of Flag Plot during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 8, 1988. Colbus, Captain Louis, U.S. Navy (Retired). Executive Officer of USS John R. Perry (DE 1034) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis and Assistant Operations Officer on the staff of Commander Carrier Group Six during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Letter to author, January 16, 1989. Dickey, Captain George L., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Offi-

278

Bibliography cer of USS Lawe (DD 763) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 20, 1988. Dinwiddie, Commander John M., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Hank (DD 702) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 28, 1988. Dixon, Rear Admiral John C., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) during the 1973 ArabIsraeli War. Letter to author, April 18, 1988. Doty, Captain William K., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Hawkins (DDR 873) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 17, 1988. Durbin, Commander Stephen F., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Eaton (DD 510) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 15, 1988. Ecker, Captain William B., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of VFP-62, conducted low-level photographic reconnaissance over Cuba during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 19, 1988. Edelman, Captain Sidney, U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of VP-24 during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 25, 1988. Engen, Vice Admiral Donald D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS America (CVA 66) during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, and Deputy Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Letters to author, March 21 and April 25,1988. Faubion, Captain Richard D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Bache (DDR 470) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 29, 1988. Forbes, Vice Admiral Bernard B., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Group Six and commander of the USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) carrier task group during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Letter to author, January 16, 1989. Foust, Captain James W., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS John R. Pierce (DD 753) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 10, 1988. Gayler, Admiral Noel Arthur M., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Division Twenty, commander of the USS Lake Champlain (CVS 39) ASW Group, during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and Commander in Chief Pacific (CINCPAC) 1972-1975. Letter to author, March 22, 1988. Griffin, Admiral Charles D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Fleet Operations and Readiness during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 6, 1988. Hartmann, Rear Admiral Paul E., U.S. Navy (Retired). Assistant Chief

279

Bibliography of Staff for Operations, Commander in Chief Atlantic, during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 22, 1988. Hayden, Commander Charles H., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Charles H. Roan (DD 853) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, May 10, 1988. Hayward, Vice Admiral John T., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Division 2, commander of the USS Enterprise (CVAN 65) carrier task group during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 17, 1988. Heyward, Vice Admiral Alexander S., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Director, Politico-Military Affairs Division (OP-61), Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, during the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis. Letter to author. May 27, 1988. Houser, Vice Admiral William D., U.S. Navy (Retired). Naval Assistant to Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 9, 1988. Hunnicutt, Captain William R., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Destroyer Squadron 26 during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, June 1, 1988. Irvine, Captain Robert K., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Canberra (CAG 2) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 6, 1988. Kent, Captain John L., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer, VS24 during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 25, 1988. Lassell, Captain Donald L., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Destroyer Division 601 during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, May 11, 1988. Magee, Captain William C., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Claud Jones (DE 1033) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, May 12, 1988. McDonald, Admiral David L., U.S. Navy (Retired). Chief of Naval Operations, 1963-1967. Letter to author, March 8, 1988. Mikhalevsky, Captain Nicholas S., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Joseph P. Kennedy (DD 850) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 23, 1988. Moorer, Vice Admiral Joe P., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Group Six and commander of the USS John F. Kennedy (CVA 67) carrier task group at the start of the 1973 Arab-Israeli War. Letter to author, April 18, 1988. Morgan, Captain William H., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Cony (DD 508) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 7, 1988. Morin, Rear Admiral James B., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding

280

Bibliography Officer of USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVA 42) during the 1973 ArabIsraeli War. Letter to author, April 14, 1988. Riediger, Commander John R., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS Basilone (DD 824) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 11, 1988. Rivero, Admiral Horacio, Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Amphibious Force U.S. Atlantic Fleet during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and Vice Chief of Naval Operations during the 1967 ArabIsraeli War. Letter to author, March 10, 1988. Sharp, Admiral U.S.G., U.S. Navy (Retired). Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for Plans and Policy (OP-6) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 24, 1988. Shepard, Rear Admiral Tazewell T., Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired). Naval Aide to President John F. Kennedy, 1961-1963. Letter to author, March 22, 1988. Small, Captain Robert H., U.S. Navy (Retired). Executive Officer of USS Abbot (DD 629) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, June 20, 1988. Steakley, Brigadier General Ralph D., U.S. Air Force (Retired). Director, Joint Reconnaissance Center during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letters to author, June 1 and 22, 1988. Stroh, Vice Admiral Robert J., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commander Carrier Division 6, commander of the USS Independence (CVA 62) carrier task group during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, February 18, 1988. Tingle, Commander Jack E., U.S. Navy (Retired). Commanding Officer of USS William R. Rush (DDR 714) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, April 25, 1988. Wissman, Captain Robert J., U.S. Navy (Retired). Operations Officer on the staff of Commander Carrier Division 18 (Commander of the Essex ASW group) during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Letter to author, March 4, 1988. Wylie, Rear Admiral J. C., U.S. Navy (Retired). Member of the Joint Strategic Survey Committee during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis and Deputy Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe during the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. Letters to author, March 28 and April 13, 1988. Oral

Histories

Anderson, Admiral George W., Jr. "The Reminiscences of Admiral George W. Anderson, Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volume II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1983. Baldwin, Hanson W. "The Reminiscences of Hanson Weightman Bald-

281

Bibliography win, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volume II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1976. Burchinal, General David A. Transcript of Oral History Interview. Washington, D.C.: Office of Air Force History, April 11, 1975. Burke, Admiral Arleigh A. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Arleigh A. Burke, U.S. Navy (Retired): Years 1955-1961." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1973. Chew, Vice Admiral John L. "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral John L. Chew, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1979. Dennison, Admiral Robert L. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Robert Lee Dennison, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1975. Duncan, Admiral Charles K. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Charles K. Duncan, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volume I. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1978.

Felt, Admiral Harry D. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Harry Donald Felt, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volumes I and II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1974. Griffin, Admiral Charles D. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Charles D. Griffin, U.S. Navy (Retired)." yolume II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1975. Hooper, Vice Admiral Edwin B. "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral Edwin B. Hooper, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1978. Johnson, Admiral Roy L. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Roy L. Johnson, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1982. Kerr, Captain Alex A. "The Reminiscences of Captain Alex A. Kerr, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1984. Miller, Vice Admiral Gerald E. "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral Gerald E. Miller, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volume II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1984. Riley, Vice Admiral Herbert D. "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral Herbert D. Riley, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volume II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program (Forthcoming. Transcript of 1972 interview cited with permission of Lynn T. Riley). Sharp, Admiral U. S. Grant. "The Reminiscences of Admiral U. S. Grant Sharp, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Volumes I and II. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1976. Smoot, Vice Admiral Roland N. "The Reminiscences of Vice Admiral Roland N. Smoot, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1972. 282

Bibliography Ward, Admiral Alfred G. "The Reminiscences of Admiral Alfred G. Ward, U.S. Navy (Retired)." Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute, Oral History Program, 1972. Government

Documents

Israeli Defense Forces. "Preliminary Inquiry," Decision of Examining Judge Sgan Alux Y. Yerushalmi, Preliminary Inquiry File 1/67, July 21, 1967. U.S. Blue Ribbon Defense Panel. Report to the President and the Secretary of Defense on the Department of Defense. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1970. U.S. Commission on the Organization of the Government for the Conduct of Foreign Policy, Report on the Organization of the Government for the Conduct of Foreign Policy. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, June 1975. U.S. Central Intelligence Agency. Current Intelligence Memorandum, "Recent Soviet Military Aid to Cuba," August 22, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Special National Intelligence Estimate 85-3-62, "The Military Buildup in Cuba." September 19, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Special National Intelligence Estimate 11-18-62, "Soviet Reactions to Certain US Courses of Action on Cuba," October 19, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Special National Intelligence Estimate 11-19-62, "Major Consequences of Certain US Courses of Action on Cuba," October 20, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Memorandum, "Soviet Bloc Shipping to Cuba," October 23, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/Cuba." October 24, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/Cuba: Information as of 0600." October 25, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/Cuba: Information as of 0600." October 26, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Memorandum, "The Crisis USSR/Cuba: Information as of 0600." October 28, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. 283

Bibliography National Indications Center. "The Soviet Bloc Armed Forces and the Cuban Crisis: A Chronology, July-November 1962." June 18, 1963. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. U.S. Commander in Chief Atlantic. "CINCLANT Historical Account of Cuban Crisis 1962." April 29, 1963. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. U.S. Congress. Congressional Record, Vol. 121, Part 14, pp. 1755117558. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1975. House Committee on Appropriations. Department of Defense Appropriations for 1964. Hearings, 88th Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1963. U.S. Congress, House Committee on Armed Services. Review of Department of Defense Worldwide Communications, Phase I. Hearings, 92nd Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1971. Review of Department of Defense Worldwide Communications, Phase II. Hearings, 92nd Congress, 2nd Session. Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1972. U.S. Congress, Senate Committee on Armed Services. Preparedness Investigating Subcommittee. Interim Report on the Cuban Military Buildup. 88th Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1963. Authorization for Military Procurement, Research and Development, Fiscal Year 1969, and Reserve Strength. Hearings, 90th congress, 2nd Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO. 1968. Department of Defense Authorization for Appropriation for Fiscal Year 1986, Part 2. Hearings, 99th Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1985. Department of Defense Authorization for Appropriation for Fiscal Year 1987, Part 3. Hearings, 99th Congress, 2nd Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1986. Fiscal Year 1976 and July-September 1976 Transition Period Authorization for Military Procurement, Research and Development, and Active Duty, Selected Reserve and Civilian Personnel Strengths, Part 2. Hearings, 94th Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1975. Fiscal Year 1977 Authorization for Military Procurement, Research and Development, and Active Duty, Selected Reserve and Civilian Personnel Strengths, Part 2. Hearings, 94th Congress, 2nd Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1976. Fiscal Year 1978 Authorization for Military Procurement, Research and Development, and Active Duty, Selected Reserve and Civilian Personnel Strengths, Part 2. Hearings, 95th Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1977. A Select Chronology and Background Documents Relating to the 284

Bibliography Middle East, First Revised Edition. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1969. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations. Disarmament and Foreign Policy, Part 1. Hearings, 86th Congress, 1st Session. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1959. U.S. Department of the Air Force. International Law—The Conduct of Armed Conflict and Air Operations, Air Force Pamphlet 110-31. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1977. U.S. Department of the Army. Law of Land Warfare, Army Field Manual FM 27-10. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1956. Field Manual 100-5, Field Service Regulations: Operations. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 19 February 1962. U.S. Department of Defense, Office of Public Affairs. "Sea Power in the Cuban Crisis," an address by Vice Admiral Alfred G. Ward. News Release No. 151-63, February 5, 1963. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. "News Briefing, Assistant Secretary of Defense Arthur Sylvester," October 24, 1962, 4:00 P.M., transcript. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Office of the Secretary of Defense. Memorandum for the President, "Presidential Interest in SA-2 Missile System and Contingency Planning for Cuba," October 4, 1962 (Declassified 1978). Boston, MA: John F. Kennedy Library, National Security Files, Box 338, Cuba 10/4/62 folder. Robert S. McNamara, "Notes on October 21, 1962 Meeting with the President." Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Robert S. McNamara, "Background Briefing on the Cuban Situation," transcript, October 22, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Memorandum, "Department of Defense Operations During the Cuban Crisis." Drafted by Adam Yarmolinsky, February 12, 1963 (Declassified 1979). Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. "DoD Law of War Program." Department of Defense Directive 5100.77, July 10, 1979. Commission on Beirut International Airport Terrorist Act of October 23, 1983. "Report of the DOD Commission on Beirut International Airport Terrorist Act, October 23, 1983." December 20, 1983. Soviet Military Power, 1989. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1989. U.S. Department of the Navy. The Commander's Guide to the Law of Naval Operations, Naval Warfare Publication No. 9. Washington, D C.: Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, 1987. Law of Naval Warfare, Naval Warfare Information Publication 102. Washington, D.C.: Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, 1959. 285

Bibliography United States Navy Regulations, 1948. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1948. United States Navy Regulations, 1973. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1973. Commander in Chief U.S. Pacific Fleet. "Commander in Chief United States Pacific Fleet, Annual Report for Fiscal Year 1959." July 27, 1959. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Commander Sixth Fleet. "Command History 1973." Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Commander Second Fleet. Admiral Alfred G. Ward, "Personal History or Diary of Vice Admiral Alfred G. Ward, U.S. Navy, While Serving as Commander Second Fleet," n.d. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Commander U.S. Taiwan Patrol Force. "Review of Actions Occurring During Kinmen Resupply and Recommendations Based Thereon; Report of." Letter, Serial 0019, November 22, 1958. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Commander U.S. Taiwan Patrol Force. Letter, Serial 386, August 10, 1959. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Naval Oceanographic Office. "Notice to Mariners No. 45-62, Special Warnings No. 30-33." Washington, D.C.: Naval Oceanographic Office, October 25, 1962. Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. "Protective Measures to be Taken in Applying the Right of Self-Preservation in Peacetime." OPNAVINST 03300.8, February 21, 1958. Office of the Chief of Naval Operations (OP-333E)."Summary of U.S. Navy Action Accomplished During Taiwan Crisis." Memorandum for the record, n.d. (Ca. 1959). Washington, D.C.: CNO Command File, Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. "The Naval Quarantine of Cuba." December 1962 (Excerpts declassified 1984). Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. "Navy Crisis Management Organization," OPNAVINST 1601.7G. January 8, 1988. USS America (CVA 67), Ship's History 1967. Washington, D.C.: Ships History Branch, Naval Historical Center. USS Catamount (LSD 17). "History of USS Catamount. (LSD 17) from 8 July 1944 to 31 December 1964." Washington, D.C.: Ships History Branch, Naval Historical Center. USS Essex (CVA 9), Ship's History 1958. Washington, D.C.: Ships History Branch, Naval Historical Center. USS Oxford (AG 159), Ship's History, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Ships History Branch, Naval Historical Center. 286

Bibliography USS Vesole (DDR 878), Ship's History, 1962. Washington, DC.: Ships History Branch, Naval Historical Center. Vice Admiral Wallace M. Beakley, "Presentation to the Naval War College." December 11, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Personal Papers of Vice Admiral Wallace M. Beakley, Box 6, Book 4. U.S. Department of State. "United States Relations With China, With Special Reference to the Period 1944-1949." Department of State Publication 3573, Far Eastern Series 30, August 1949. American Foreign Policy, 1950-55: Basic Documents, Volume II. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1957. "U.S. Reaffirms Policy on Prevention of Aggressive Actions by Cuba: Statement by President Kennedy." Department of State Bulletin (September 24, 1962), 47: 450-55. "The Soviet Threat to the Americas." Department of State Bulletin (November 12, 1962), 47: 715-20. "U.S. and Soviet Union Agree on Formula for Ending Cuban Crisis." Department of State Bulletin (November 12, 1962), 47: 74045. "The Cuban Crisis, 1962," report prepared by Frank A. Sieverts. August 22, 1963. National Security Archive, Washington, D.C., Cu ban Missile Crisis file. "U.S. Protests Harassment of Ships by Soviets; Rejects Soviet Charges." Department of State Bulletin (May 3, 1965), 52: 655-58. "Secretary of State Dean Rusk, News Briefing at the White House." Department of State Bulletin (June 26, 1967), 56: 950-55. "Secretary Rusk and Secretary of Defense McNamara Discuss Viet-Nam and Korea on 'Meet the Press.' " Department of State Bulletin (February 26, 1968), 58: 261-72. "Secretary Kissinger's News Conference of October 12." Department of State Bulletin (October 29, 1973), 69: 532-41. "President Nixon's News Conference of October 26." Department of State Bulletin (November 12, 1973), 69: 581-84. "Secretary Kissinger's News Conference of October 25." Department of State Bulletin (November 12, 1973), 69: 585-94. "U.N. Calls for Middle East Cease-Fire and Negotiations and Establishes Emergency Force." Department of State Bulletin (November 12, 1973), 69: 598-606. "Secretary of Defense Schlesinger's News Conference of October 26." Department of State Bulletin (November 19, 1973), 69: 617-25. "Secretary Kissinger's News Conference of November 21." Department of State Bulletin (December 10, 1973), 69: 701-10. United States Treaties and Other International Agreements, Vol. 24, Part 1, 1973. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1974. Bureau of Public Affairs. "Conflict in Iraq and Iran," State287

Bibliography ment by Warren Christopher. Current Policy No. 234, October 7, 1980. "International Shipping and the Iran-Iraq War," Statement by Richard W. Murphy. Current Policy No. 958, May 19, 1987. "U.S. Policy in the Persian Gulf and Kuwaiti Reflagging," Statement by Michael H. Armacost. Current Policy No. 978, June 16, 1987. Historical Office, Bureau of Public Affairs. American Foreign Policy: Current Documents, 1962. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, April 1966. American Foreign Policy: Current Documents, 1967. Washington, D C.: U.S. GPO, 1969. U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff. JCS SM-833-59, August 25, 1959. Washington, D.C.: National Archives, JCS 1968/84, Record Group 218, JCS Records. Joint Secretariat, Historical Division. "Chronology of JCS Decisions Concerning the Cuban Missile Crisis." December 21, 1962. W a s h i n g t o n , D.C.: N a t i o n a l S e c u r i t y Archive, C u b a n Missile Crisis file.

Department of Defense Directory of Military and Associated Terms, JSC Publication No. 1. Washington, D.C.: U.S. GPO, 1979. "Crisis Staffing Procedures of the Joint Chiefs of Staff," SM-48183. 1983. U.S. Marine Corps, Emergency Action Center. "Summary of Items of Significant Interest Relating to the Cuban Situation, Period 270701280701 October 1962," October 28, 1962. Washington, D C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. U.S. National Security Council, Executive Committee."Executive Committee Minutes, October 23, 1962, 10:00 A.M." Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. "Executive Committee Record of Action, October 23, 1962, 6:00 P.M., Meeting No. 2." Prepared by McGeorge Bundy. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. "Executive Committee Record of Action, October 24, 1962, 10:00 A.M., Meeting No. 3." Prepared by McGeorge Bundy. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. "Summary Record of NSC Executive Committee Meeting No. 4, October 25, 1962, 10:00 A.M." Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. "Summary Record of NSC Executive Committee Meeting No. 5, October 25, 1962, 5:00 P.M." Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. "Summary Record of NSC Executive Committee Meeting No. 6, October 26, 1962, 10:00 [USSC]A.M.[USX]" Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Planning Subcommittee. "Report Number One of the Planning 288

Bibliography Subcommittee." October 24, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Planning Subcommittee. "Report Number Two of the Planning Subcommittee." October 25, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Informal Cuba Working Group. "Scenario for Airstrike Against Offensive Missile Bases and Bombers in Cuba," final draft of internal memorandum, October 20, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. U.S. Office of the Special Assistant for National Security Affairs. National Security Action Memorandum No. 181, August 23, 1962. Boston, Mass.: John F. Kennedy Library, National Security Files, Box 338, "Cuba (4). 8/23/64" folder. U.S. President. Presidential Recordings Transcripts, "Cuban Missile Crisis Meetings, October 16, 1962." Boston, Mass.: John F. Kennedy Library, Presidential Papers of John F. Kennedy, President's Office Files. Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: John F. Kennedy, 1962. Washington, D.C.: U.S., 1963. Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: Lyndon B. Johnson, 1963-1964, Volume II. Washington, D.C.: U.S., 1965. U.S. Special Inter-Departmental Committee. Memorandum for the President, "Report on Implications for U.S. Foreign and Defense Policy of Recent Intelligence Estimates," August 23, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. U.S. Government

Messages

Commander Cruiser-Destroyer Force, U.S. Atlantic Fleet. COMCRUDESLANT 240900Z OCT 62, naval message, October 24, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Commander in Chief Atlantic. CINCLANT 232105Z OCT 62, naval message, October 23, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. CINCLANT 272016Z OCT 62, naval message, October 27, 1962. Quoted in United States Marine Corps Emergency Action Center, "Summary of Items of Significant Interest Relating to the Cuban Situation, Period 270701-280701 October 1962," October 28, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Commander in Chief U.S. Atlantic Fleet. CINCLANTFLT 231710Z OCT 62, Revised OPORD 45-62, October 23, 1962 (Declassified 1986). Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. CINCLANTFLT 281702Z OCT 62, October 28, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. 289

Bibliography Commander Sixth Fleet. COMSIXTHFLT 081250Z JUN 67. June 8, 1967 (Declassified 1979). Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. COMSIXTHFLT 081305Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, DC.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. COMSIXTHFLT 081320Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. COMSIXTHFLT 081336Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. COMSIXTHFLT 081339Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. Commander Task Force 136. CTF 136 260212Z OCT 62, October 26, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Commander Task Group 81.6. CTG 81.6 261524Z OCT 62, OPORD 3 1 62, Change One, October 26, 1962 (Declassified 1986). Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. CTG 81.6 011603Z NOV 62, OPORD 33-62, November 1, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. Joint Chiefs of Staff. JCS 250833Z OCT 62, No. 6968."Situation Report 3 - 6 2 as of 250400Z October 1962, Operation Scabbards," October 25, 1962. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. JCS 250737Z OCT 73. October 25, 1973. Washington, D.C.: National Security Archive, Cuban Missile Crisis file. Naval Oceanographic Office. NAVOCEANO WASHDC 252124Z OCT 62, "Special Warning No. 32," October 25, 1962. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center. USS Saratoga (CVA 60). USS SARATOGA 081235Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. USS SARATOGA 081237Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. USS SARATOGA 081245Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file. USS SARATOGA 081254Z JUN 67, June 8, 1967. Washington, D.C.: Operational Archives, Naval Historical Center, Liberty incident file.

290

Bibliography SECONDARY Books and

SOURCES Monographs

Abel, Elie. The Missile Crisis. Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1966. Afheldt, Horst. "Tactical Nuclear Weapons and European Security." In Tactical Nuclear Weapons: European Perspectives, pp. 262-295. Stockholm International Peace Research Institute. London: Taylor and Francis, 1978. Alford, Jonathan, ed. Sea Power and Influence: Old Issues and New Challenges. London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1980. Alger, John I. The Quest for Victory. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1982. Allen, Charles D., Jr. The Uses of Navies in Peacetime. Washington, D.C.: American Enterprise Institute, 1980. Allison, Graham T. Essence of Decision: Explaining the Cuban Missile Crisis. Boston: Little, Brown, 1971. Allison, Graham T., Albert Carnesale, and Joseph S. Nye, Jr., eds. Hawks, Doves & Owls: An Agenda for Avoiding Nuclear War. New York: Norton, 1985. Anderson, George W., Jr. "The Cuban Crisis." In Arnold L. Shapack, ed., Proceedings: Naval History Symposium, pp. 81-86. Annapolis, MD: U.S. Naval Academy, 1973. Armbrister, Trevor. A Matter of Accountability. New York: CowardMcCann,1970. Aronson, Shlomo. Conflict and Bargaining in the Middle East: An Israeli Perspective. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1978. Baker, A. J. The Yom Kippur War. New York: Random House, 1974. Ball, George. The Past Has Another Pattern: Memoirs. New York: Norton, 1982. Bar-Simon-Tov, Yaacov. The Israeli-Egyptian War of Attrition, 19691970. New York: Columbia University Press, 1980. Barlow, Jeffrey G. "President John F. Kennedy and His Joint Chiefs of Staff." PhD dissertation, University of South Carolina, 1981. Barnard, Chester I. The Functions of the Executive. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1961. Bell, Coral. The Conventions of Crisis. London: Oxford University Press, 1971. Bell, Coral. "Decision-Making by Governments in Crisis Situations." In Daniel Frei, ed.. International Crises and Crisis Management: An International Symposium, pp. 50-58. Famborough: Saxon House, 1978. Beaumont, Roger A. "The Paradoxes of C3." In James H. Buck and

291

Bibliography Lawrence J. Korb, eds., Military Leadership, pp. 115-38. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1981. Betts, Richard K. Soldiers, Statesmen, and Cold War Crises. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1977. Betts, Richard K. Nuclear Blackmail and Nuclear Balance. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1987. Blair, Bruce G. Strategic Command and Control: Redefining the Nuclear Threat. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1985. Blair, Bruce G. "Alerting in Crisis and Conventional War." In Ashton B. Carter, John D. Steinbruner, and Charles A. Zraket, eds., Managing Nuclear Operations, pp. 75-120. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1987. Blechman, Barry M. and Stephen S. Kaplan. Force Without War. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1978. Blight, James G. and David A. Welch. On the Brink: Americans and Soviets Reexamine the Cuban Missile Crisis. New York: Hill and Wang, 1989. Bobrow, Davis B. "Communications, Command, and Control: The Nerves of Intervention." In Ellen P. Stern, ed.. The Limits of Military Intervention, pp. 101-120. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1977. Booth, Ken. Navies and Foreign Policy. New York: Crane Russak, 1977. Bottome, Edgar M. The Missile Gap: A Study of the Formulation of Military and Political Policy. Cranbury, N.J.: Associated University Presses, 1971. Bouchard, Joseph F. "Use of Naval Force in Crises: A Theory of Stratified Crisis Interaction." PhD dissertation, Stanford University, 1988. Bracken, Paul. The Command and Control of Nuclear Forces. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983. Bracken, Paul. "Accidental War." In Graham T. Allison, Albert Carnesale and Joseph S. Nye, Jr., eds., Hawks, Doves & Owls: An Agenda for Avoiding Nuclear War, pp. 25-53. New York: Norton, 1985. Brecher, Michael. Decisions In Crisis: Israel, 1967 and 1973. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980. Breslaur, George W. "Soviet Policy in the Middle East, 1967-1972: Unalterable Antagonism or Collaborative Competition?" In Alexander L. George, ed., Managing U.S.-Soviet Rivalry: Problems of Crisis Prevention, pp. 65-105. Boulder: Westview Press, 1983. Brittin, Burdick H. International Law for Seagoing Officers, Fifth Edition. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1986. Brodie, Bernard. Strategy in the Missile Age. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1959. Brownlie, Ian. "The Use of Force in Self-Defense." In British Year Book of International Law, 1961, pp. 183-268. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

292

Bibliography Bryson, Thomas A. "The Projection of U.S. Naval Power in the 1970 Jordan Crisis." In Craig L. Symonds, ed., New Aspects of Naval History, pp. 313-21. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1981. Bueno de Mesquita, Bruce. The War Trap. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1981. Bull, Hedley. "Sea Power and Political Influence." In Jonathan Alford, ed., Sea Power and Influence: Old Issues and New Challenges, pp. 3 11. London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1980. Bulloch, John. The Making of a War: The Middle East from 1967 to 1973. London: Longman, 1974. Bundy, McGeorge. Danger and Survival: Choices About the Bomb in the First Fifty Years. New York: Random House, 1988. Burke, Arleigh A. "The Lebanon Crisis." In Arnold A. Shapack, ed.. Proceedings of the Naval History Symposium, pp. 70-80. Annapolis: U.S. Naval Academy, April 27-28, 1973. Butterfield, Herbert. History and Human Relations. London: Collins, 1951. Cable, James. Gunboat Diplomacy, 1919-1979, Second Edition. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1981. Carrison, Daniel J. The United States Navy. New York: Praeger, 1968. Carter, Ashton B„ John D. Steinbruner, and Charles A. Zraket, eds. Managing Nuclear Operations. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1987. Chayes, Abram. The Cuban Missile Crisis: International Crises and the Role of Law. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974. Churchill, Randolf S. and Winston S. Churchill. The Six Day War. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1967. Cohen, Raymond. Threat Perception in International Crisis. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1979. Cohen, Raymond. International Politics: The Rules of the Game. London: Longman, 1981. Collins, John M. U.S. Defense Planning: A Critique. Boulder: Westview Press, 1982. Cyert, Richard M. and James G. March. A Behavioral Theory of the Firm. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1963. Dayan, Moshe. Story of My Life. New York: William Morrow, 1976. Dinerstein, Herbert S. The Making of a Missile Crisis: October 1962. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1976. Dismukes, Bradford. "Soviet Employment of Naval Power for Political Purposes, 1967-75." In Michael MccGwire and John McDonnell, eds., Soviet Naval Influence: Domestic and Foreign Dimensions, pp. 483-509. New York: Praeger, 1977. Downs, Anthony. Inside Bureaucracy. Boston: Little, Brown, 1967.

293

Bibliography Dowty, Alan. Middle East Crisis: U.S. Decision-Making in 1958, ¡970, and 1973. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984. Draper, Theodore. Israel and World Politics: Roots of the Third ArabIsraeli War. New York: Viking, 1967. Dupuy, Trevor N. Elusive Victory: The Arab-Israeli Wars, 1947-1974. New York: Harper and Row, 1978. Eisenhower, Dwight D. The White House Years: Waging Peace, 19561961. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1965. Ennes, James M., Jr. Assault on the Liberty. New York: Random House, 1979; Ivy Books Edition, 1987. Freedman, Lawrence. The Evolution of Nuclear Strategy. New York: St. Martin's, 1983. Freedman, Robert 0 . Soviet Policy Toward the Middle East Since 1970, Revised Edition. New York: Praeger, 1978. Frei, Daniel. Risks of Unintentional Nuclear War. Totowa, N.J.: Allanheld, Osmund, 1983. Friedman, Norman. "The Rules of Engagement Issue." In E. F. Gueritz, et al., NATO's Maritime Strategy: Issues and Developments, pp. 2 5 32. Washington, D.C.: Pergamon-Brassey's, 1987. Galbraith, Jay R. Organization Design. Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1977. " Gallery, Daniel V. The Pueblo Incident. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970. Garthoff, Raymond L. Intelligence Assessment and Policymaking: A Decision Point in the Kennedy Administration. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1984. Garthoff, Raymond L. Detente and Confrontation: American-Soviet Relations from Nixon to Reagan. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1985. Garthoff, Raymond L. Reflections on the Cuban Missile Crisis, Revised Edition. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1989. George, Alexander L. "Case Studies and Theory Development: The Method of Structured, Focused Comparison." In Paul Gordon, ed., Diplomacy: New Approaches in History, Theory, and Policy, pp. 4 3 68. New York: Free Press, 1979. George, Alexander L. Presidential Decisionmaking in Foreign Policy. Boulder: Westview Press, 1980. George, Alexander L. Managing U.S.-Soviet Rivalry: Problems of Crisis Prevention. Boulder: Westview Press, 1983. George, Alexander L. "U.S.-Soviet Global Rivalry: Norms of Competition." In Gilbert R. Winham, ed., New Issues in International Crisis Management, pp. 6 7 - 8 9 . Boulder: Westview, 1988. George, Alexander L., David K. Hall, and William E. Simons. The Limits of Coercive Diplomacy. New York: Little, Brown, 1971. George, Alexander L. and Richard Smoke. Deterrence in American For294

Bibliography eign Policy: Theory and Practice. New York: Columbia University Press, 1974. Classman, Jon D. Arms for the Arabs: The Soviet Union and War in the Middle East. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1975. Golan, Galia. Yom Kippur and After: The Soviet Union and the Middle East Crisis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977. Golan, Galia. "Soviet Decisionmaking in the Yom Kippur War, 1973." In Jiri Valenta and William C. Potter, eds., Soviet Decisionmaking for National Security, pp. 186-98. London: George Allen and Unwin, 1984. Golan, Matti. The Secret Conversations of Henry Kissinger: Step-by-Step Diplomacy in the Middle East. New York: Bantam, 1976. Gorshkov, Sergei G. Red Star Rising at Sea. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1974. Gottfried, Kurt and Bruce G. Blair. Crisis Stability and Nuclear War. New York: Oxford University Press, 1988. Gottfried, Kurt and Alexander L. George, rapporteurs. "Accidental Nuclear War." Summary of discussions, 18th Pugwash Workshop on Nuclear Forces. Pugwash, Nova Scotia, 17—20 July 1989. London: Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs. Goulding, Phil G. Confirm or Deny: Informing the People on National Security. New York: Harper and Row, 1970. Gowa, Joanne and Nils H. Wessel. Ground Rules: Soviet and American Involvement in Regional Conflicts. Philadelphia: Foreign Policy Research Institute, 1982. Greene, Fred. U.S. Policy and the Security of Asia. New York: McGrawHill, 1968. Greenstein, Fred I. The Hidden-Hand Presidency: Eisenhower as Leader. New York: Basic Books, 1982. Griffiths, Franklyn, and John C. Polanyi, eds. The Dangers of Nuclear War. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1979. Gurtov, Melvin and Byong-Moo Hwang. China Under Threat: The Politics of Strategy and Diplomacy. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980. Guthman, Edwin O. and Jeffrey Shulman, eds. Robert Kennedy: In His Own Words. New York: Bantam Books, 1988. Halperin, Morton H. "The 1958 Taiwan Straits Crisis: A Documented History." Memorandum RM-4900-ISA. Santa Monica, Calif.: Rand, December 1966 (Declassified March 1975). Halperin, Morton H. Bureaucratic Politics and Foreign Policy. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1974. Halperin, Morton H. and Tang Tsou. "United States Policy Toward the Offshore Islands." In John D. Montgomery and Arthur Smithies, eds., Public Policy, Volume 15, pp. 119-38. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1966. 295

Bibliography Halperin, Morton H. and Tang Tsou. " T h e 1958 Quemoy Crisis." In Morton H. Halperin, ed., Sino-Soviet Relations and Arms Control, pp. 265-304. Cambridge: MIT Press. 1967. Harrison, James P. The Long March to Power. New York: Praeger, 1972. Hayes, Bradd C. Naval Rules of Engagement: Management Tools for Crises. Santa Monica, Calif.: R A N D , July 1989. Hayward, Thomas B. "An Ex-CNO's Reflection of the Garbage Can Theory of Naval Decision Making." In James G. March and Roger Weissinger-Baylon, eds.. Ambiguity and Command: Organizational Perspectives on Military Decision Making, pp. 258-68. Marshfield, Mass.: Pitman, 1986. Head, Richard G., Frisco W. Short, and Robert C. McFarlane. Crisis Resolution: Presidential Decision Making in the Mayaguez and Korean Confrontations. Boulder: Westview Press, 1978. Heikal, Mohamed. The Road to Ramadan. New York: Quadrangle, 1975. Henriksen, John R. "International Claims to Anticipatory Self-Defense: A Juridical Analysis." Masters Thesis. Washington, D.C.; National Law Center, George Washington University, 1981. Hermann, Charles F. " S o m e Issues in the Study of International Crisis." In Charles F. Hermann, ed.. International Crises: Insights from Behavioral Research, pp. 3-17. N e w York: Free Press, 1972. Hermann, Charles F. "Enhancing Crisis Stability: Correcting the Trend Toward Increasing Instability." In Gilbert R. Winham, ed., New Issues in International Crisis Management, pp. 121-49. Boulder: Westview, 1988. Herrick, Robert W . Soviet Naval Strategy: Fifty Years of Theory and Practice. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1968. Hershberg, James G. Before "The Missiles of October": Did Kennedy Plan a Military Strike Against Cuba? Occasional Paper No. 89-1. Medford, Mass.: Tufts University, Nuclear Age History and Humanities Center, October 1989. Herzog, Chaim. The War of Atonement. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1975. Hill, J. R. Maritime Strategy for Medium Powers. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1986. Hilsman, Roger. To Move A Nation. New York: Doubledav, 1967. Hinton, Harold C. China's Turbulent Quest. Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1972. Holsti, Ole R. Crisis Escalation War. Montreal: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1972. Howe, Jonathan T. Multicrises: Sea Power and Global Politics in the Missile Age. Cambridge, Mass.: M I T Press, 1971. Hsieh, Alice Langley. Communist China's Strategy in the Nuclear Era. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1962. 296

Bibliography Hughes, Wayne P., Jr. Fleet Tactics: Theory and Practice. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1986. Huntington, Samuel P. The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1957. Insight Team of the London Sunday Times. The Yom Kippur War. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1974. Janowitz, Morris. The Professional Soldier: A Social and Political Portrait. New York: Free Press, 1960. Jervis, Robert. Perception and Misperception in International Politics. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976. Johns, Forrest R. "Naval Quarantine of Cuba, 1962." Masters Thesis, University of California San Diego, 1984. Johnson, Lyndon B. The Vantage Point: Perspectives on the Presidency, 1963-69. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1971. Johnson, Robert E. Far China Station: The U.S. Navy in Asian Waters, 1800-1898. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1979. Johnson, U. Alexis with Jef O. McAllister. The Right Hand of Power. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1984. Jones, DuPre, ed. China: U.S. Policy Since 1945. Washington, D.C.: Congressional Quarterly, 1980. Joynt, C. B. and O. M. Smolansky. Soviet Naval Policy in the Mediterranean, Research Monograph No. 3. Bethlehem, Pa.: Lehigh University, Department of International Relations, July 1972. Kahan, Jerome H. Security in the Nuclear Age: Developing U.S. Strategic Arms Policy. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1975. Kahn, Herman. On Escalation. New York: Praeger, 1965. Kalb, Marvin and Bernard Kalb. Kissinger. Boston: Little, Brown, 1974. Kalicki, J. H. The Pattern of Sino-American Crises: Political-Military Interactions in the 1950s. London: Cambridge University Press, 1975. Kaufmann, William W. The Requirements of Deterrence. Princeton: Center for International Studies, 1954. Kaufmann, William W. The McNamara Strategy. New York: Harper and Row, 1964. Kennedy, Floyd D., Jr. "David Lamar McDonald." In Robert W. Love, Jr., ed., The Chiefs of Naval Operations, pp. 333-50. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1980. Kennedy, Floyd D., Jr. "The Creation of the Cold War Navy, 19531962." In Kenneth J. Hagan, ed., In Peace and War: Interpretations of American Naval History, 1775-1984, pp. 304-26. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1984. Kennedy, Robert F. Thirteen Days: A Memoir of the Cuban Missile Crisis. New York: Norton, 1969. Khrushchev, Nikita S. Khrushche\> Remembers, translated and edited bv Strobe Talbott. Boston: Little, Brown, 1970. 297

Bibliography Khrushchev, Nikita S. Khrushchev Remembers: The Last Testament, translated and edited by Strobe Talbott. Boston: Little, Brown, 1974. Kissinger, Henry A. Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policv. New York: Harper, 1957. Kissinger, Henry A. The Necessity for Choice. New York: Harper, 1960. Kissinger, Henry A. White House Years. Boston: Little, Brown, 1979. Kissinger, Henry A. Years of Upheaval. Boston: Little, Brown, 1982. Krock, Arthur. Memoirs: Sixty Years on the Firing Line. New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1968. Kruzel, Joseph J. "Military Alerts and Diplomatic Signals." In Ellen P. Stern, ed., The Limits of Military Inten>ention, pp. 83-99. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1977. Laqueur, Walter. The Struggle for the Middle East: The Soviet Union in the Mediterranean, 1958-1968. New York: Macmillan, 1969. Larson, David L. The "Cuban Crisis" of 1962, Second Edition. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1986. Lebow, Richard N. Between Peace and War: The Nature of International Crises. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981. Lebow, Richard N. Nuclear Crisis Management: A Dangerous Illusion. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1987. Lebow, Richard N. "Clausewitz, Loss of Control, and Crisis Management." In Gilbert R. Winham, ed., New Issues in International Crisis Management, pp. 37-64. Boulder: Westview, 1988. Lewis, Jesse W. The Strategic Balance in the Mediterranean. Washington, D.C.: American Enterprise Institute, 1976. Lipsky, Michael. "Standing the Study of Policy Implementation on Its Head." In W. Dean Burnham and Martha W. Weinberg, eds., American Politics and Public Policy, pp. 391-402. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1968. Lockhart, Charles. Bargaining in International Conflicts. New York: Columbia University Press, 1979. Lortie, Dan C. "The Balance of Control and Autonomy in Elementary School Teaching." In Amitai Etzioni, ed., The Semi-Professions and Their Organizations, pp. 1—53. New York: Free Press, 1969. Low, Alfred D. The Sino-Soviet Dispute: An Analysis of the Polemics. Rutherford, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1976. Luttwak, Edward N. The Political Uses of Sea Power. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974. Luttwak, Edward N. Strategy: The Logic of War and Peace. Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1987. Lynn-Jones, Sean M. "The Incidents at Sea Agreement." In Alexander L. George, Philip J. Farley, and Alexander Dallin, eds., U.S.-Soviet Security Cooperation: Achievements, Failures, Lessons, pp. 482-509. New York: Oxford University Press, 1988. 298

Bibliography Maccoby, Michael. The Leader. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1981. MacFarlane, S. Niel. "The Soviet Union and Conflict Management in the Middle East." In Gabriel Ben-Dor and David B. Dewitt, eds., Conflict Management in the Middle East, pp. 187-207. Lexington, Mass.: Lexington Books, 1987. March, James G. and Herbert A. Simon. Organizations. New York: Wiley, 1958. Martin, Laurence W. The Sea in Modern Strategy. New York: Praeger, 1967. Matheson, Neil. The 'Rules of the Game' of Superpower Military Intervention in the Third World, 1975-1980. Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1982. May, Ernest R. "Eisenhower and After." In Ernest R. May, ed., The Ultimate Decision: The President as Commander in Chief, pp. 228-36. New York: George Braziller, 1960. McConnell, James N. "The 'Rules of the Game': A Theory on the Practice of Superpower Naval Diplomacy." In Bradford Dismukes and James McConnell, eds., Soviet Naval Diplomacy, pp. 240-80. New York: Pergamon, 1979. McNamara, Robert S. Blundering Into Disaster: Surviving the First Century of the Nuclear Age. New York: Harper and Row, 1987. Medvedev, Roy. All Stalin's Men, translated by Harold Shukman. New York: Doubleday, 1985. Metcalf, Joseph, III. "Decision Making in the Grenada Rescue Operation." In James G. March and Roger Weissinger-Baylon, eds., Ambiguity and Command: Organizational Perspectives on Military Decision Making, pp. 277-97. Marshfield, Mass.: Pitman, 1986. Miller, G. E. "Existing Systems of Command and Control." In Franklyn Griffiths and John C. Polanyi, eds., The Dangers of Nuclear War, pp. 50-66. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1979. Monahan, James and Kenneth O. Gilmore. The Great Deception. New York: Farrar and Strauss, 1963. Nathan, James A. and James K. Oliver. The Future of United States Naval Power. Bloomington: University of Indiana Press, 1979. Nitze, Paul H. with Anne M. Smith and Steven L. Reardon. From Hiroshima to Glasnost. New York: Grove Weidenfeld, 1989. Nixon, Richard M. The Memoirs of Richard Nixon. New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1978. O'Ballance, Edgar. The Third Arab-Israeli War. Hamden, Conn.: Archon Books, 1972. O'Connell, D. P. The Influence of Law on Sea Power. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1975. Osgood, Robert E. and Robert W. Tucker. Force, Order and Justice. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1967. 299

Bibliography Pachter, Henry M. Collision Course: The Cuban Missile Crisis and Coexistence. New York: Praeger, 1963. Pearson, Anthony. Conspiracy of Silence. London: Quartet Books, 1978. Petersen, Charles C. "Showing the Flag." In Bradford Dismukes and James McConnell, eds., Soviet Naval Diplomacy, pp. 88-114. New York: Pergamon, 1979. Phelps, John, Bruce Russett, Matthew Sands, and Charles Schwartz. Studies on Accidental War, Research Paper P-6. Washington, D.C.: Institute for Defense Analyses, Economic and Political Studies Division, May 1963. Polmar, Norman. Soviet Naval Power: Challenge for the 1970s. New York: Crane, Russak, 1974. Pope, Ronald R., ed. Soviet Views on the Cuban Missile Crisis. Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1982. Potter, E. B. and Chester W. Nimitz, eds. Sea Power: A Naval History. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1960. Prados, John. The Soviet Estimate: U.S. Intelligence Analysis and Soviet Strategic Forces. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982. Pressman, Jeffrey L. and Aaron Wildavsky. Implementation. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973. Pruitt, Dean G. "Definition of the Situation as a Determinant of International Action." In Herbert C. Kelman, ed., International Behavior: A Social-Psychological Analysis, pp. 393-432. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965. Quandt, William B. Soviet Policy in the October 1973 War. R-1864. Santa Monica, Calif.: Rand, 1976. Quandt, William B. Decade of Decisions: American Policy Toward the Arab-Israeli Conflict, 1967-1976. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977. Quester, George H. Deterrence Before Hiroshima. New York: Wilev, 1966. Quester, George H. "Naval Armaments: The Past as Prologue." In George H. Quester, ed., Navies and Arms Control, pp. 1-43. New York: Praeger, 1980. Raymond, Jack. Power at the Pentagon. New York: Harper and Row, 1964. Reeves, Tom K. and Joan Woodward. "The Study of Managerial Control." In Joan Woodward, ed., Industrial Organizations: Behavior and Control, pp. 37-56. London: Oxford University Press, 1970. Richardson, James L. "Crisis Management: A Critical Appraisal." In Gilbert R. Winham, ed., New Issues in International Crisis Management, pp. 13-36. Boulder: Westview, 1988. Roberts, Stephen S. "The October 1973 Arab-Israeli War." In Bradford Dismukes and James McConnell, eds., Soviet Naval Diplomacy, pp. 192-210. New York: Pergamon, 1979. 300

Bibliography Rowden, William H. "Sixth Fleet Operations: June 1981 to July 1983." In James G. March and Roger Weissinger-Baylon, eds., Ambiguity and Command: Organizational Perspectives on Military Decision Making, pp. 269-76. Marchfield, Mass.: Pitman, 1986. Rubinstein, Alvin Z. Red Star on the Nile. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977. Ryan, Paul B. First Line of Defense. Stanford, Calif.: Hoover Institution Press, 1981. Safran, Nadav. Israel: The Embattled Ally. Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1978. Sagan, Scott D. Moving Targets: Nuclear Strategy and National Security. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989. Sagan, Scott D. Managing Strategic Nuclear Alert Operations. Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND, forthcoming. Sagan, Scott D. Accidents at the Brink: Nuclear Operations and Crisis Stability. Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND, forthcoming. Sarkesian, Sam C. Beyond the Battlefield: The New Military Professionalism. New York: Pergamon, 1981. Saunders, Harold H. "Regulating Soviet-U.S. Competition and Cooperation in the Arab-Israeli Arena, 1967-86." In Alexander L. George, Phiiip J. Farley, and Alexander Dallin, eds., L'.S.-Soviet Security Cooperation: Achievements, Failures, Lessons, pp. 554-64. New York: Oxford University Press, 1988. Schelling, Thomas C. The Strategy of Conflict. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960. Schelling, Thomas C. Arms and Influence. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1966. Schelling, Thomas C. "Arrangements for Reciprocal Reassurance." In Hilliard Roderick and Ulla Magnusson, eds., Avoiding Inadvertent War: Crisis Management, pp. 123-30. Austin: University of Texas, 1983. Schelling, Thomas C. and Morton H. Halperin. Strategy and Arms Control. New York: Twentieth Century Fund, 1961. Schiff, Zeev. October Earthquake: Yom Kippur 1973. Tel Aviv: University Publishing Project, 1974. Schilling, Warner R., et al. American Arms and a Changing Europe. New York: Columbia University Press, 1973. Schlesinger, Arthur M., Jr. A Thousand Days: John F. Kennedy in the White House. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1965. Schlesinger, Arthur M., Jr. Robert Kennedy and His Times. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1978. Sella, Amnon. Soviet Political and Military Conduct in the Middle East. New York: St. Martin's, 1981. Selznick, Philip. TV A and the Grass Roots. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1953. 301

Bibliography Sheehan, Edward R. F. The Arabs, Israelis, and Kissinger: A Secret History of American Diplomacy in the Middle East. New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1976. Shepard, Tazewell T., Jr. John F. Kennedy: Man of the Sea. New York: William Morrow, 1965. Shulsky, Abram. "Coercive Diplomacy." In Bradford Dismukes and James McConnell, eds., Soviet Naval Diplomacy, pp. 115-57. New York: Pergamon, 1979. Sicherman, Harvey. "The Yom Kippur War: End of Illusion?" Foreign Policy Papers, Vol. 1, No. 4. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1976. Simon, Herbert A. "A Behavioral Model of Rational Choice." In Herbert A. Simon, ed., Models of Man: Social and Rational, pp. 241-60. New York: Wiley, 1957. Smoke, Richard. War: Controlling Escalation. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1977. Snyder, Glenn H. Deterrence by Denial and Punishment. Princeton: Center for International Studies, 1959. Snyder, Glenn H. Deterrence and Defense. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961. Snyder, Glenn H. "Crisis Bargaining." In Charles F. Hermann, ed., International Crises: Insights from Behavioral Research, pp. 217-56. New York: Free Press, 1972. Snyder, Glenn H. and Paul Diesing. Conflict Among Nations. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977. Snyder, Jack. The Ideology of the Offensive. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1984. Sorenson, Theodore C. Kennedy. New York: Harper and Row, 1965. Spiegel, Steven L. "The U.S. Approach to Conflict Resolution in the Middle East." In Gabriel Ben-Dor and David B. Dewitt, eds., Conflict Management in the Middle East, pp. 155-86. Lexington, Mass.: Lexington Books, 1987. Steinbruner, John D. The Cybernetic Theory of Decision: New Dimensions of Political Analysis. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1974. Steinbruner, John D. "An Assessment of Nuclear Crises." In Franklyn Griffiths and John C. Polanyi, eds.. The Dangers of Nuclear War, pp. 34-49. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1979. Steinbruner, John D. "Choices and Trade-offs." In Ashton B. Carter, John D. Steinbruner, and Charles A. Zraket, eds., Managing Nuclear Operations, pp. 535-54. Washington, D.C.: Brookings, 1987. Stockholm International Peace Research Institute. World Armaments and Disarmament: SIPRI Yearbook, 1973. New York: Humanities Press, 1972. Stolper, Thomas E. China, Taiwan, and the Offshore Islands. Armonk, N.Y.: M.E Sharpe, 1985. 302

Bibliography Sutherland, John W. Administrative Decision-Making: Extending the Bounds of Rationality. New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1977. Sweetman, Jack. American Naval History: An Illustrated Chronology. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1984. Tatù, Michael. Power in the Kremlin: From Khrushchev to Kosygin. New York: Viking, 1969. Taylor, Maxwell D. Swords and Ploughshares. New York: Norton, 1972. Till, Geoffrey. Maritime Strategy and the Nuclear Age, Second Edition. New York: St. Martin's, 1984. Train, Harry D., III. "Decision Making and Managing Ambiguity in Politico-Military Crisis." In James G. March and Roger WeissingerBaylon, eds.. Ambiguity and Command: Organizational Perspectives on Military Decision Making, pp. 298-308. Marshfield, Mass.: Pitman, 1986. Tullock, Gordon. The Politics of Bureaucracy. Washington, D.C.: Public Affairs Press, 1965. Ulam, Adam B. Expansion and Coexistence: Soviet Foreign Policy, 191772, Second Edition. New York: Praeger, 1974. Valeriani, Richard. Travels With Henry. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1979. Van Creveld, Martin. Command in War. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1985. Watson, Bruce W. Red Navy at Sea. Boulder: Westview Press, 1982. Weinland, Robert G. "Superpower Naval Diplomacy in the October 1973 Arab-Israeli War: A Case Study." In The Washington Papers, vol. 6, no. 61, 55-96. Washington, D.C.: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 1979. Weintal, Edward and Charles Bartlett. Facing the Brink: An Intimate Studv of Crisis Diplomacy. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1967. Wells, Anthony R. "The June 1967 Arab-Israeli War." In Bradford Dismukes and James McConnell, eds., Soviet Naval Diplomacy, pp. 158-68. New York: Pergamon, 1979. Whetten, Lawrence L. The Canal War. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1974. Whiting, Alan S. The Chinese Calculus of Deterrence: India and Indochina. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1975. Wilensky, Harold L. Organizational Intelligence: Knowledge and Policy in Government and Industry. New York: Basic Books, 1967. Williams, Phil. Crisis Management: Confrontation and Diplomacy in the Nuclear Age. New York: Wiley, 1976. Winham, Gilbert R. "Introduction." In Gilbert R. Winham, ed., New Issues in International Crisis Management, pp. 1-10. Boulder: Westview, 1988. Wohlstetter, Roberta. Pearl Harbor: Warning and Decision. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1962. Wylie, J. C. "The Sixth Fleet and American Diplomacy." In J. C. Hu303

Bibliography rewitz, ed., Soviet-American Rivalry in the Middle East, pp. 55-60. New York: Praeger, 1969. Young, Kenneth T. Negotiating with the Chinese Communists: The United States Experience, 1953-1967. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1968. Young, Oran R. The Politics of Force. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1968. Young, Peter. The Israeli Campaign, 1967. London: William Kimber, 1967. Zagoria, Donald S. The Sino-Soviet Conflict, 1956-1961. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1962. Zumwalt, Elmo R., Jr. On Watch: A Memoir. New York: Quadrangle, The New York Times Book Co., 1976. Periodicals Allyn, Bruce J., James G. Blight, and David A. Welch. "Essence of Revision: Moscow, Havana, and the Cuban Missile Crisis." International Security (Winter 1989/90), 14:136-72. Anderson, George W., Jr. "The Cuban Blockade: An Admiral's Memoir." The Washington Quarterly, Autumn 1982, pp. 83-87. Anderson, George W., Jr. "As I Recall . . . The Cuban Missile Crisis." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (September 1987), 113:44-45. Andrews, Captain Frank. "The Prevention of Preemptive Attack." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (May 1980), 106:126-39. Art, Robert J. "Bureaucratic Politics and American Foreign Policy: A Critique." Policy Sciences (December 1973), 4:467-90. Ball, Desmond. "Targeting for Strategic Deterrence." Adelphi Papers No. 185 (London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, Summer 1983), pp. 8-25. Ball, Desmond. "Nuclear War at Sea." International Security (Fall 1985), 10:3-31. Bauer, Charles J. "Military Crisis Management at the National Level." Military Review (August 1975), 55:3-15. Beaumont, Roger A. "Command Method: A Gap in Military Historiography." Naval War College Review (Winter 1979), 31:61-74. Bernstein, Barton J. "The Cuban Missile Crisis: Trading the Jupiters in Turkey?" Political Science Quarterly (Spring 1980), 95:97-125. Blann, Thomas B. "The State of Surface Antiair Warfare." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (November 1985), 111:133-37. Blechman, Barry M. and Douglas M. Hart. "The Political Utility of Nuclear Weapons: The 1973 Middle East Crisis." International Security (Summer 1982), 7:132-56. Blight, James G., ed. "October 27, 1962: Transcripts of the Meetings of the ExComm," transcribed by McGeorge Bundy. International Security (Winter 1987/88), 12:30-92. 304

Bibliography Blight, James G., Joseph S. Nye, Jr., and David A. Welch. "The Cuban Missile Crisis Revisited." Foreign Affairs (Fall 1987), 66:170-88. Blixt, Melvin D. "Soviet Objectives in the Eastern Mediterranean." Naval War College Review (March 1969), 21:16-21. Booth, Ken. "Foreign Policies at Risk: Some Problems of Managing Naval Power." Naval War College Review (Summer 1976), 29:3-15. Borawski, John. "Risk Reduction at Sea: Naval Confidence-Building Measures." Naval Forces (1/1987), 3:18-28. Bouchard, Joseph F. "Accidents and Crises: Panay, Liberty, and Stark." Naval War College Review (Autumn 1988), 41:87-102. Bowett, Derek. "Reprisals Involving Recourse to Armed Force." American Journal of International Law (January 1972), 66:1-36. Brement, Marshall. "Civilian-Military Relations in the Context of National Security Policymaking." Naval War College Review (Winter 1988), 41:27-32. Brewer, Garry D. and Paul Bracken. "Some Missing Pieces of the C3I Puzzle." Journal of Conflict Resolution (September 1984), 28:451-69. Brodie, Bernard. "Strategy as a Science." World Politics. (July 1949), 1:467-488. Brooks, Linton F. "Naval Power and National Security: The Case for the Maritime Strategy." International Security (Fall 1986), 11:58-88. Buer, Charles J. "Military Crisis Management at the National Level." Military Review (August 1975), 55:3-15. Bunn, George. "International Law and the Use of Force in Peacetime: Do U.S. Ships Have to Take the First Hit?" Naval War College Review (May-June 1986), 39:69-80. Burke, Arleigh A. "The U.S. Navy's Role in General War and Conflict Short of General War." Naval War College Review (April 1959), 11:711.

Caldwell, Dan. "A Research Note on the Quarantine of Cuba, October 1962." International Studies Quarterly (December 1978), 22:625-33. Caldwell, Dan, ed. "Department of Defense Operations During the Cuban Missile Crisis." Naval War College Review (July/August 1979), 32:83-99. Chan, Steve. "Chinese Conflict Calculus and Behavior: Assessment from a Perspective of Crisis Management." World Politics (April 1978), 30:391-410. Chang, Gordon H. "To the Nuclear Brink: Eisenhower, Dulles, and the Quemoy-Matsu Crisis." International Security (Spring 1988), 12:96122. Chase, John D. "The Functions of the Navy." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (October 1969), 95:27-33. Cline, Ray S. "Commentary: The Cuban Missile Crisis." Foreign Affairs (Fall 1989), 68:190-96. Clubb, O. Edmund. "Formosa and the Offshore Islands in American 305

Bibliography Policy, 1950-1955." Political Science Quarterly (December 1959), 74:517-31. Cohen, Eliot A. "Why We Should Stop Studying the Cuban Missile Crisis." The National Interest (Winter 1985/6), 2:3-13. Collier, Don. "Strategic Management in Diversified, Decentralized Companies." Journal of Business Strategy ( S u m m e r 1982), 3:8589. Crane, Robert D. "The Cuban Crisis: A Strategic Analysis of American and Soviet Policy." Orbis (Winter 1963), 6:528-36. DePort, A. W. "The North Atlantic Alliance: External Threats and Internal Stress." Naval War College Review (November-December 1984), 37:71-79. Earl, Robert L. "A Matter of Principle." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (February 1983), 109:29-36. Erell, Shlomo. "Israeli Saar FPBs Pass Combat Test In Yom Kippur War." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (September 1974), 100.11518.

Finkelstein, J. B. "Naval and Maritime Events, July 1973-December 1973." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (May 1974), 100:289-301. Fitzgerald, T. A. "Blitzkrieg at Sea." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1986), 112:33-38. Friedman, N o r m a n . "C 3 War at Sea." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (May 1977), 103:126-41. Fukuyama, Francis. "Nuclear Shadowboxing: Soviet Intervention Threats in the Middle East." Orbis (Fall 1981), 25:579-605. Galdorisi, George. "The Quiet Revolution." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (April 1986), 112:42-43. Gallagher, Barrett. "Searching for Subs in the Atlantic." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (July 1962), 88:98-113. Garthoff, Raymond L. "Cuban Missile Crisis: The Soviet Story." Foreign Policy (Fall 1988), 72:61-80. George, Alexander L. "The 'Operational Code': A Neglected Approach to the Study of Political Leaders and Decision-Making." International Studies Quarterly (June 1969), 13:190-222. George, Alexander L. "Crisis Management: The Interaction of Political and Military Considerations." Survival (September/October 1984), 26:229-33. Glaeser, Frederick J. "Guerrilla Warfare at Sea." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (August 1983), 109:41-47. Goodman, Hirsh and Zeev Schiff. "The Attack on the Liberty." The Atlantic Monthly, S e p t e m b e r 1984, pp. 7 8 - 8 4 . Gordon, Leonard H. D. "United States Opposition to Use of Force in the Taiwan Strait, 1954-1962." Journal of American History (December 1985), 72:637-60. Govindarajan, Vijay "Decentralization, Strategy, and Effectiveness of 306

Bibliography Strategic Business Units in Multibusiness Organizations." Academy of Management Review (October 1986), 11:844-56. Gregory, William H. "Their Tattletales (Our Problem)." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (February 1984), 110:97-99. Grove, Eric J. "The Maritime Strategy and Crisis Stability." Naval Forces (6/1987), 8:34-44. Hadd, H. A. "Orders Firm But Flexible." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (October 1962), 88:81-89. Hafner, Donald. "Bureaucratic Politics and Those Frigging Missiles': JFK, Cuba and U.S. Missiles in Turkey." Orbis (Summer 1977), 21:307-33. Harlow, Bruce. "The Legal Use of Force . . . Short of War." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (November 1966), 92:88-98. Hayward, Thomas B. "The Future of U.S. Sea Power." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (May 1979), 105:66-71. Hazelwood, Leo, John J. Hayes, and James R. Brownell, Jr. "Planning for Problems of Crisis Management." International Studies Quarterly (March 1977), 21:75-106. Hill, C.W.L. and J. F. Pickering. "Divisonalization, Decentralization and Performance of Large United Kingdom Companies." Journal of Management Studies (January 1986), 23:26-50. Hilton, Robert P. "The U.S.-Soviet Incidents at Sea Treaty." Naval Forces (1/1985), 6:30-37. Hines, John G. and Phillip A. Petersen. "Changing the Soviet System of Control." International Defense Review (3/1986), 19:281-89. Hinkly, Ronald H. "National Security in the Information Age." The Washington Quarterly (Spring 1986), 9:125-40. Horelick, Arnold L. "The Cuban Missile Crisis: An Analysis of Soviet Calculations and Behavior." World Politics (April 1964), 16:363-89. Horowitz, Dan. "Flexible Responsiveness and Military Strategy: The Case of the Israeli Army." Policy Sciences (Summer 1970), 1:191205. Hughes, Wayne P., Jr. "Naval Tactics and Their Influence on Strategy." Naval War College Review (January-February 1986), 39:2-17. Hurwitz, Bruce. "Threat Perception, Linkage Politics and Decision Making: The October 1973 Worldwide Alert of US Military Forces." Jerusalem Journal of International Relations (1985), 7:135-44. Jervis, Robert. "Cooperation Under the Security Dilemma." World Politics (January 1978), 30:167-214. Johns, Forrest R. "United We Stood." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1985), 111:78-84. Johnson, Christopher H. "Tactics." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (October 1978), 104:37-43. Kaiser, Karl. "NATO Strategy Toward the End of the Century." Naval War College Review (January-February 1984), 38:69-82. 307

Bibliography Kidd, Isaac C., Jr. "View From the Bridge of the Sixth Fleet Flagship." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (February 1972), 98:18-29. Knorr, Klauss. "Failures in National Intelligence Estimates: The Case of the Cuban Missiles." World Politics (April 1964), 16:455-67. Knox, William E. "Close-up of Khrushchev During a Crisis." New York Times Magazine, November 18, 1962, p. 3. Kolodziej, Edward A. "Europe: The Partial Partner." International Security (Winter 1980-1981), 5:104-31. Krasner, Stephen D. "Are Bureaucracies Important? (Or Allison Wonderland)." Foreign Policy (Summer 1972), 7:159-79. Lambeth, Benjamin S. "The Political Potential of Soviet Equivalence." International Security (Summer 1982), 7:132-56. Lautenschlager, Karl. "Technology and the Evolution of Naval Warfare." International Security (Fall 1983), 8:3-51. Lebas, Michel and Jane Weigenstein. "Management Control: The Roles of Rules, Markets and Culture." Journal of Management Studies (May 1986), 23:259-72. Lebow, Richard N. "Accidents and Crises: The Dogger Bank Affair." Naval War College Review (Summer 1978), 31:66-75. Lebow, Richard N. "Provocative Deterrence: A New Look at the Cuban Missile Crisis." Arms Control Today (July-August 1988), 18:15-16. Legvold, Robert. "The Super-Rivals: Conflict in the Third World." Foreign Affairs (Spring 1979), 57:755-78. Levy, Jack S. "Organizational Routines and the Causes of War." International Studies Quarterly (June 1986), 30:193-222. Libbey, Miles A., III. "Time Out for Tactics." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1979), 104:52-57. Lossow, Walter von. "Mission-Type Tactics versus Order-Type Tactics." Military Review (June 1977), 57:87-91. Luttwak, Edward N. and Walter Laqueur. "Kissinger and the Yom Kippur War." Commentary (September 1974), 50:33-40. Lynn-Jones, Sean M. "A Quiet Success for Arms Control: Preventing Incidents at Sea." International Security (Spring 1985), 9:154-84. Marshall, D. J. "Communications and Command Prerogative." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1974), 100:29-33. McClelland, Charles A. "The Acute International Crisis." World Politics (October 1961), 14:182-205. McGruther, Kenneth R. "The Role of Perception in Naval Diplomacy." Naval War College Review (September-October 1974), 27:3-20. McNulty, James F. "Naval Presence—The Misunderstood Mission." Naval War College Review (September-October 1974), 27:21 - 3 1 . Merchant, Kenneth A. "The Control Function of Management." Sloan Management Review (Summer 1983), 23:43-55. Miller, F. C. "Those Storm-beaten Ships, Upon Which the Arab Armies

308

Bibliography Never Looked." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (March 1975), 101:18-25. Miller, Gerald E. "As I Recall . . . Sailing With the Soviets in the Med." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1985), 111:60-61. Miller, Martin J., Jr. "The Israeli Navy: 26 Years of Non-Peace." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (February 1975), 101:49-54. Mitchell, Peter A. "The Navy's Mission in Space." Oceanus. (Summer 1985), 28:22-30. Murphy, F. M. "The Soviet Navy in the Mediterranean." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (March 1967), 93:38-44. Neutze, Dennis R. "The Gulf of Sidra Incident: A Legal Perspective." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1982), 108:26-31. Neutze, Dennis R. "Bluejacket Diplomacy: A Juridical Examination of the Use of Naval Forces in Support of United States Foreign Policy." JAG Journal (Summer 1982), 32:81-158. Nitzan, Yaakov. "Comment and Discussion." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (November 1978), 104:111-12. Odeen, Philip A. "Organizing for National Security." International Security (Summer 1980), 5:111-29. Openchowski, Kenneth F. A. "The Role and Location of the Commander: How Will They Be Affected by C 3 Facilities Available in the 1980s?" Military Review- (April 1977), 57:12-19. Ouchi, William G. "A Conceptual Framework for the Design of Organizational Control Systems." Management Scimce (September 1979), 25:833-48. Pakenham, W.T.T. "The Command and Control of Naval Operations: Principles and Organisation." Naval Forces (1 /1986), 7:44-50. Parker, T. Wood. "Thinking Offensively." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (April 1981), 107:26-31. Parks, W. Hays. "Conventional Aerial Bombing and the Law of War." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (May 1982), 108:98-117. Parks, W. Hays. "Crossing the Line." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (November 1986), 112:40-52. Pease, C. C. "Comment and Discussion." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (June 1982), 108:82-83. Petersen, Charles D. "About-Face in Soviet Tactics." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (August 1983), 109:57-63. Peterson, Kent D. "Mechanisms of Administrative Control Over Managers in Educational Organizations." Administrative Science Quarterly (December 1984), 29:573-97. "The 'Phantom Battle' that Led to War." U.S. News and World Report, July 23, 1984, pp. 56-67. Pocalyko, Michael N. "25 Years After the Blink." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (September 1987), 113:41-48.

309

Bibliography Poe, Donald T. "Command and Control: Changeless—Yet Changing." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (October 1974), 100:23-31. Posen, Barry R. "Inadvertent Nuclear War? Escalation and NATO's Northern Flank." International Security (Fall 1982), 7:28-54. Powers, Robert C. "The Return of Tactical Thought." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (June 1983), 109:21-27. Rice, Condoleezza. "The Party, the Military, and Decisionmaking in the Soviet Union." World Politics (October 1987), 40:55-81. Roach, J. Ashley. "Rules of Engagement." Naval War College Review (January-February 1983), 36:46-48. Ross, Edward W. "Chinese Conflict Management." Military Review (January 1980), 60:13-25. Ruhe, William J. "Antiship Missiles Launch New Tactics." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (December 1982), 108:60-65. Rushkoff, Bennett C. "Eisenhower, Dulles and the Quemoy-Matsu Crisis, 1954-1955." Political Science Quarterly (Fall 1981), 96:465-80. Sagan, Scott D. "Lessons of the Yum Kippur Alert." Foreign Policy (Fall 1979), 36:160-77. Sagan, Scott D. "Nuclear Alerts and Crisis Management." International Security (Spring 1985), 9:99-139. Sagan, Scott D. "1914 Revisited: Allies, Offense, and Instability." International Security (Fall 1986), 11:151-75. Sagan, Scott D. "Correspondence." International Security. (Winter 198687), 11:187-98. Sagan, Scott D. "SIOP-62: The Nuclear War Plan Briefing to President Kennedy." International Security (Summer 1987), 12:22-51. Sick, Gary G. "Russia and the West in the Mediterranean: Perspectives for the 1970's." Naval War College Review (June 1970), 22:49-69. Sidey, Hugh. "Over the hot line—the Middle East." Life, June 16, 1967, p. 24B. Sigal, Leon V. "The 'Rational Policy' Model and the Formosa Straits Crisis." International Studies Quarterly (June 1970), 14:121-56. Simon, Herbert A. "Theories of Decision-Making in Economics and Behavioral Science." American Economic Review (June 1959), 49:25383. Singer, J. David. "Threat Perception and the Armament Tension Dilemma." Journal of Conflict Resolution (March 1958), 2:90-105. Smith, Richard K. "The Violation of the Liberty." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (June 1978), 104:64-68. Snyder, Jack. "Civil-Military Relations and the Cult of the Offensive, 1914 and 1984." International Security (Summer 1984), 9:108-46. Steinbruner, John D. "National Security and the Concept of Strategic Stability." Journal of Conflict Resolution (September 1978), 22:411428. Stinchcombe, Arthur L. "Bureaucratic and Craft Administration of 310

Bibliography Production: A Comparative Study." Administrative Science Quarterly (September 1959), 4:168-87. Stumpf, Robert E. "Air War With Libya." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (August 1986), 112:42-48. "Surface Tactical Doctrine." Surface Warfare. (September/October 1985), 10:15-17. Thomas, John R. "Soviet Behavior in the Quemoy Crisis of 1958." Orbis (Spring 1962), 6:38-64. Tow, William T. "NATO's Out-of-Region Challenges and Extended Containment." Orbis (Winter 1985), 29:829-55. Trachtenberg, Marc. "The Influence of Nuclear Weapons in the Cuban Missile Crisis." International Security (Summer 1985), 10:137-63. Treverton, Gregory F. "Global Threats and Trans-Atlantic Allies." International Security (Fall 1980), 5:142-58. Tsou, Tang. "Mao's Limited War in the Taiwan Strait." Orbis (Fall 1959), 3:332-50. Tsou, Tang. "The Quemoy Imbroglio: Chiang Kai-shek and the United States." Western Political Quarterly (December 1959), 12:1075-91. Turner, Stansfield. "Missions of the U.S. Navy." Naval War College Review (March-April 1974), 26:2-17. Turner, Stansfield. "Designing a Modern Navy: A Workshop Discussion." In "Power at Sea: II. Super-Powers and Navies." Adelphi Papers No. 123, pp. 25-28. London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, 1976. Turner, Stansfield and George Thibault. "Countering the Soviet Threat in the Mediterranean." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (July 1977), 103:25-32. "Understanding Military Contingency Planning." Military Review (July 1981), 61:33-43. "U.S. Watches for Possible Cuban IRBMs." Aviation Week and Space Technology, October 1, 1962, p. 20. Van Evera, Steven. "The Cult of the Offensive and the Origins of the First World War." International Security (Summer 1984), 9:58-107. Vego, Milan. "Moscow's Quest for Naval Facilities in the Mediterranean." Defense and Foreign Affairs Digest, December 1979, pp. 1015. Ware, Hugh. "New Tools for Crisis Management." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (August 1974), 100:19-24. Watkins, James D. "The Principle of Command." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1983), 109:32-33. Watkins, James D. "The Maritime Strategy." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (January 1986) 112. Special supplement. The Maritime Strategy, pp. 2-17. Weick, Karl. "Educational Organizations as Loosely-Coupled Systems." Administrative Science Quarterly (March 1976), 21:1-19. 31 1

Bibliography Welch, David A. and J a m e s G. Blight. "The Eleventh Hour of the Cuban Missile Crisis: An Introduction to the ExComm Transcripts." International Security (Winter 1987/88), 12:5-29. Wells, Linton, II. "Plus ca Change." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (June 1985), 111:30-37. "White House Tapes and Minutes of the Cuban Missile Crisis." International Security ( S u m m e r 1985), 10:171-194. Whiting, Alan S. "The Use of Force in Foreign Policy by the People's Republic of China." Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science (July 1972), 402:55-66. Whiting, Alan S. "Quemoy 1958: Mao's Miscalculations." China Quarterly (June 1975). 62:263-70. Williams, Phil. "Crisis Management: The Role of Command, Control and Communications." RUSI Journal (December 1983), 128:33-39. Wohlstetter, Albert and Roberta Wohlstetter. "Controlling the Risks in Cuba." Adelphi Papers No. 17. London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, April 1965. Wohlstetter, Roberta. "Cuba and Pearl Harbor: Hindsight and Foresight." Foreign Affairs (July 1965), 43:691-707. Wolf, Anthony F. "Agreement at Sea: The United States-USSR Agreement on Incidents at Sea." Korean Journal of International Studies (3/1978), 9:57-80. Zelikow, Philip D. "Force Without War, 1975-82." Journal of Strategic Studies (March 1984), 7:29-54. Zimm, Alan D. "The First Salvo." U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings (February 1985), 111:55-60. Zuckerman, Solly. "Judgement and Control in Modern Warfare." Foreign Affairs (January 1962), 40:196-212.

312

INDEX

A-l attack aircraft, 149 A-4 jet attack aircraft, 149, 171 Abel, Elie, 125 Accidents, see military accidents Acheson, Dean, 92 Action-reaction cycle, xxiv, 23, 45, 47, 49-51, 190 Agnew, Spiro, 177 Ailes, John W„ Radm., I l l Air forces, ground-based, xxvi, 68, 216

Aircraft carriers, xxix, 48; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 68-70, 72, 76; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 91; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140, 142-50, 154-59; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 163-64, 167-69, 171-75, 178, 180, 187 Alert system, 32, 166; see also defense condition of readiness Alerts, military, ix, 23, 52, 92, 122, 217 Allied C o m m a n d Europe Mobile Force (AMF), 52 Allies, 15, 55 Allison, G r a h a m , 6, 111, 115. 126 Ambiguous or ambivalent orders, 25, 27, 43, 45, 81, 130, 192 America (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 140, 142-47, 149-50, 154-58 Anderson, George W., Jr., Adm., 93, 94, 100, 101, 110, 115, 117, 119-20, 122, 134-35, 136, 137; see also Chief of Naval Operations Andrews, Frank, Capt., xxix, 185

Anti-carrier warfare, 48, 143, 156, 169, 171, 173-74, 176-83, 185-86, 195, 198 Anti-ship cruise missiles, xxix, 48, 106, 156, 167-74, 177-78, 183, 18586 Anti-submarine warfare (ASW), xxxv, 145, 153, 117-30, 191 Anti-surface combat air patrol (SUCAP), 170 Anticipatory self-defense, 105-106 Arab-Israeli War, 1967, xx, 26, 13859, 175-76, 189-94, 197, 200. 202205; U.S. objectives, 139, 144, 153; U.S. strategy, 139; USSR objectives, 139; USSR strategy, 139-40 Arab-Israeli War, 1973, xx, 26, 48, 160-87, 189-91, 193-94, 198, 201, 203-204, 219-21; Israeli naval operations, 167, 170, 175, U.S. airlift, 160, 165, 170, 171-72; U.S. alert (DEFCON 3). 160. 166, 172-73, 181, 183; U.S. objectives, 161; U.S. strategy, 161-62; USSR objectives, 162; USSR strategy, 162 Arabian Sea, 55 Argentia Sub-Air Barrier, 117, 127 Arms race, 18 Aronson, Shlomo, 179 Athens, Greece, 167, 168 Atlantic Fleet, 85, 94 Atlantic Ocean, 111, 117, 118, 124, 125, 127, 167 Atomic weapons, see nuclear weapons 313

Index Authority leakage, 5 Automatic Digital Network (AUTODIN), 163 Automatic Secure Voice Communications System, 163 Autonomous risks, 13

B-47 jet bomber, 68 Bagley, Worth H., Adm., 163, 166, 179 Bahamas, 99, 116, 124 Ball, Desmond, xxxv Bargaining, crisis, xi, xviii, xxv, 2, 14, 20, 22-23, 51, 92 Barnard, Chester, 4 Battle of the first salvo, xxix, xxxvi, xxxvii, 185 Bay of Pigs Crisis, 1961, 24 Beakley, Wallace M., Vadm., 63, 67, 76, 86, 106 Behm, Edward W., Capt., 75 Bell, Coral, 2, 14, 23 Berlin, 89, 109, 133, 204, 262n Berlin Crisis (1961), 24, 109 Bermuda, 118 Bipolarity, xxvii Blackburn, Paul P., Jr., Vadm., 63, 64, 67, 77, 83 Blandy (U.S. Navy destroyer), 117 Blechman, Barry M., xviii Blight, James G., 16 Blouin, Francis J., Vadm., 102 Bolt from the blue attack, 21 Borawski, John, xxxiv Bracken, Paul, 1, 9, 10, 11, 34, 47 Brady, Robert E., Capt., 106 Buckley (U.S. Navy destroyer), 240« Buckner Bay, Okinawa, 69 Bundy, McGeorge, 93 Bureaucratic politics, 3 Burke, Arleigh A., Adm., 62, 64, 72, 73, 76, 83, 85, 204; see also Chief of Naval Operations Butterfield, Herbert, 17-18

C-5 transport aircraft, 171 C-141 transport aircraft, 171

314

Cable, James, xxvii Caldwell, Turner F., Vadm., 103, 104, 105, 134 Camp Pendleton, Ca., 91, 103 Canberra (U.S. Navy cruiser), 111, 115 Cape Maisi, Cuba, 111 Caribbean Sea, 91-95, 103, 111, 118, 124, 127 Carmichael, John H., Capt., 94, 99, 132, 136 Case selection, xvii-xxiv Castro, Fidel, 89, 90, 91, 116, 130 Catamount (U.S. Navy landing ship dock), 74, 75 Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), 38, 87, 100, 114, 118 Centralization of control, 28-29, 53, 94, 96; see also decentralization Chain of command, 29, 194, 200-201; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 62-63; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 93-5, 100, 115, 128, 135; in 1967 ArabIsraeli War, 140-41 148, 150, 158; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 162-65, 165, 176, 180-81, 186 Chiang Kai-shek, 57-58, 72-73, 79 Chief of Naval Operations (CNO), 203; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 67-69, 75-76, 85; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 93-97, 101, 103-104, 110, 112, 115-16, 119-20, 123, 135; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140, 151; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 163-65, 169, 171, 174-76, 179-80, 184 China, Communist, xxi, 57-61, 66-84, 190-91, 194, 197, 200, 243« China, Nationalist, 57-61, 64-84, 200 Christiansen, Ernest E., Radm., 9899, 111 Civil-military relations, 28, 134, 136 Clausewitz, Carl von, 24, 221 CLEARCERT procedure, 116 Coercion, 14, 92, 122 Coercive diplomacy, 53-54, 93, 142 Cognitive limits on decisionmaking, 10, 15, 44-45, 219, 228n Cohen, Eliot A., 24, 132 Colbus, Louis, Capt., 164

Index Cold war, xxi, xxvii Command and control, xi, xvii, xxx, 1,8, 28, 31, 216, 218-19; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 62-68; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. 93-108, 134; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140-42; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War. 162-66 Command, delegated, 8, 29, 31, 36, 41, 43, 45-46, 50, 94. 128, 141, 153, 175, 189-90; direct, 8, 25, 28, 43-44, 49, 79, 128-29, 141, 152, 189-90, 206 Commander Air Task Force Thirteen (Provisional), 63 Commander Anti-Submarine Warfare Force Atlantic (COMASWFORLANT), 103, 111 Commander Carrier Division Eighteen, 97-98 Commander Carrier Group One, 76 Commander Carrier Group Six, 164 Commander Destroyer Division 601, 99 Commander in Chief Atlantic (CINCLANT), 37; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 90-91, 93-99, 101-106, 110, 114-16, 124, 133 Commander in Chief Pacific (CINCPAC), 38, 62, 65, 66, 67, 69, 70-71, 76, 8 2 , 1 3 3 Commander in Chief Pacific Air Forces (CINCPACAF), 62. 65 Commander in Chief Space Command, 37 Commander in Chief Strategic Air Command (CINCSAC), 37 Commander in Chief U.S. Air Force Atlantic (CINCAFLANT), 95 Commander in Chief U.S. Army Atlantic (CINCARLANT), 95 Commander in Chief U.S. Army Pacific (CINCARPAC), 62 Commander in Chief U.S. Atlantic Fleet (CINCLANTFLT), 90, 95, 97, 101, 103, 104, 106, 113, 115, 116, 117, 119, 120, 121, 122 Commander in Chief U.S. Central Command (USCINCCENT), 38 Commander in Chief U.S. European

Command (USCINCEUR), 38, 133, 140-41, 149, 150, 151, 162, 165 Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Atlantic (CINCNAVLANT), 95 Commander in Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe (CINCUSNAVEUR); in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140, 141, 142, 143, 148-51; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 163-66, 179 Commander in Chief U.S. Pacific Fleet (CINCPACFLT), 62, 70, 72, 76, 85 Commander in Chief U.S. Southern Command (USCINCSOUTH), 38 Commander Key West Force (COMKWESTFOR), 105, 106 Commander Second Fleet (COMSECONDFLT), 97, 102 Commander Seventh Fleet (COMSVENTHFLT), 63-64, 67, 6972, 75, 82, 85 Commander Sixth Fleet (COMSIXTHFLT), 140, 203; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140-41, 145, 147, 148, 149, 150 151, 154, 156, 157-58; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 163, 165, 168, 171, 172, 173, 180, 184, 185, 186, 187 Commander Tactical Air Command, 95 Commander Taiwan Patrol Force, 63, 69, 72, 74-75, 78, 80-81, 83 Commander U.S. Taiwan Defense Command, 63, 70-71, 78, 80, 83 Commanding General Continental Army Command (USCONARC), 95 Common User Digital Information exchange System (CUDIX), 163 Communications, 28-30; problems and limitations, xv, 43-44, 81, 97100, 129, 147, 154, 165, 177, 19293, 218-19; satellite, 141, 163-64; technology, xxii-xxiii, 64, 79, 94100, 141, 163, 165, 237n, 269« Communications intelligence (COMINT), 38-39 Comparability among cases, xviixxiii 315

Index Continental Air Defense C o m m a n d (CONAD), 91 Contingency plans, ix, 33, 51, 54-55; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 64-65, 70; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 89-90, 101-103, 109; in 1967 ArabIsraeli War, 141; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 165-66 Control, m e t h o d s of in organizations, 5-6 Control by negation, 29-30, 35, 128, 154 Control of events in crises, 13, 103; see also loss of control Cooper, Chester, xxxiv Corsair (U.S. Navy jet fighter), 108 Credibility, 15-16, 52-53 Crete, 142-44, 148 Creveld, Martin Van, 218 Crisis, 1-3; accidental, 2-3; acute, xii, xiii, xviii, xxix, xxxviii, 1-2, 34, 36, 41, 48, 81, 226n; adversary, 2; b r i n k m a n s h i p , 3; coercive bargaining, 2-3; i n t r a m u r a l , 2; justification of hostility, 2; low-level, xviii-xix; pretext to attack, 2; security dil e m m a , 2; spinoff, 2; w a r scare, 2 Crisis m a n a g e m e n t , xxxii-xxxiii, xxxvi-xxxvii, 1, 13-16, 20, 24, 27-8, 36, 84, 157, 178, 188, 194, 202, 204, 217-22; requirements of, xxxiii, 1415, 199, 220; strategy, 14, 43, 45, 49, 193 Crisis military operations, see military operations, crisis Crisis response, xxxi-xxxiii, xxxvi Crisis security dilemma, xii-xiii, 20, 34,46-48, 50, 82, 178, 181, 195, 208-209 Crisis slide, 23 Crisis stability, xii, xiv, 16-28, 34, 188; stratified, 194-95 Cuba, 87-92, 94-5, 99-100, 105, 107108, 114, 116, 129-30, 133, 204 Cuban Coordinating Committee, 102 Cuban missile crisis, xx, 24-26, 87137, 154, 189-94, 197, 200, 202-204, 207; air strike option, 89-91, 93, 100-103, 109-10, 132; anti-subma-

316

rine warfare (ASW) operations, 97, 99, 105, 117-30, 257M; invasion option, 89-90, 93, 100-103, 122, 13233; quarantine, 87-90, 92-93, 97, 99-105, 108-17, 119, 128-29, 134-37; reconnaissance a n d surveillance, 100, 107-109, 130; USSR objectives, 91; USSR offensive missiles in Cuba, 87-92, 102, 109, 112, 116, 131, 133; USSR strategy, 91-92; U.S. objectives, 89-90, 92-93; U.S. strategy, 89-90, 93 Cult of the offensive, 230n D-day shootout, xxix, 185, 203 Davis Line, 67, 77 Decentralization of authority, 4, 2829 Deception, 31 Decisionmaking, xiv, xviii, 93, 188, 219; i m p a i r m e n t of, 15, 43, 44-45, 177, 193; political-level, 221-22; tactical-level, xxi Decoupled interactions followed by disengagement, 196, 213, 222 Defense Communications System, 97 Defense Condition of Readiness (DEFCON), 32, 55, 122, 160, 166, 172, 173-74, 181, 183, 195, 207 Defense Council (USSR), 37 Defense Reorganization Act (1958), 62, 93, 140 Delegated control, 30, 33, 35, 41, 45, 189-90, 203; autonomous, 30-31, 35; monitored, 30, 35; in 1958 Taiw a n Strait Crisis, 64, 79, 81, 85; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 128-29; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 149; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 164, 176 Delegation of decisionmaking authority, 4-5, 7, 9-10, 33, 35, 45, 49-50, 53, 54, 189-90, 219, 227n, 232n; discretionary, 5; rule-governed, 4-5, 33; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 65, 71, 79; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 108, 129; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 149; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 164, 176 Dennison, Robert L., Adm., 95, 96,

Index 100, 101. 102, 110, 112, 115, 126, 135-36; see also Commander in Chief Atlantic Department of Defense (DOD), 7, 8, 100, 107 Department of State, 100, 116 Detente, 161-62 Deterrence, xxx-xxxiii, xxxv; extended, 15 Deterrent threats, 15-16, 20, 52, 76, 139, 143, 170, 178 Dickey, George L., Capt., 97 Diesing, Paul, 1,2, 13 Dillon, Douglas, 92 Diplomacy, crisis, xxv Dismukes, Bradford, 174 Distant early warning (DEW) line, 39 Dixon, John C., Radm., 164, 178 Dobrynin, Anatoly, Amb., 170 Doctrine, military, xvii, 10, 19, 20; see also naval doctrine Dogger Bank Incident (1905), 227n Domestic politics, xxvii Downs, Anthony, 4 Drumwright, Everett F., Amb., 58, 73 Dulles, John Foster, 79 Dvinogorsk (Soviet merchant ship), 117 Egypt; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 139, 142, 144, 147, 150, 152, 155, 157, 158; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 16062, 165-68, 172, 175, 180, 183-84 Eisenhower administration, 57, 58, 61, 62, 65, 79, 80, 82, 84, 200 Eisenhower, Dwight D., xxii, 58, 66, 68, 70, 72-73, 79, 81-83, 85, 189 Electronic intelligence (ELINT), 3839 Electronic support measures (ESM), 39 Engen, Donald D., Vadm., 144, 145, 151, 154, 164, 166, 176, 180, 184, 186, 187 Enterprise (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 106 Escalation, xviii-xxiv, 21-23, 47-51, 79-80, 93, 134, 222; inadvertent, ix, xiv, xviii-xx, xxiv, xxxviii, 21-23,

34-35, 48-49, 188, 195-200, 205, 224n; miscalculated, 17, 22-23; spiral, xiii, xxiv, 21, 23, 36, 47-49, 224n Escalation control, xxxi-xxxiii, xxxvi, 28, 2 2 2

Escalation dominance, xxxi Escalation dynamics, 23, 42, 48-49, 50-51, 199; stratified, 48-49 Escalation inhibiting factors, xvi, xxxviii, 83, 130-31, 155-57, 181-82, 196-200, 210, 222; conditions that cause them to break down, xvi, 197, 199-200, 222 Essex (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 85, 9 7 , 9 8 , 9 9 , 111, 113, 127 Europe, Western, 55, 161 Executive agent for the JCS, 62, 9394, 110, 140 Executive Committee (EXCOMM), 100, 102, 107, 109-10, 120, 122, 126, 127, 128, 130, 132, 136, 137 F-4 Phantom jet fighter, 91, 149, 171 F-100 jet fighter, 68 Fait accompli strategy, 91-92 Felt, Harry D„ Adm., 62, 64, 85 Fifth Marine Expeditionary Brigade, 91, 103 First Fleet, 68 First Taiwan Strait Crisis (19541955), see Quemoy-Matsu Crisis Flag Plot, 94-97, 99, 116, 126-27, 132, 135 Fleet Radioteletype Broadcast, 98 Florida Strait Protection of Shipping Patrol, 99, 106 Force, use as a political instrument, xxv-xxvii, 14, 41, 51. 81, 128, 153, 176, 191, 220 Force multiplier concept, 29 Formosa, see Taiwan Formosa Defense Command, see Taiwan Defense Command Formosa Patrol Force, see Taiwan Patrol Force Formosa Resolution (1955), 57-58, 82 Forward based systems, 91 Forward presence, xxxi-xxxii 317

Index Foust, J a m e s W., Capt., 97, 115 Foxtrot (Soviet s u b m a r i n e class), 118, 127 Freedom of the seas, xxv Friction, 24, 221 Fukien Province (China), 59, 68 Gagarin (Soviet merchant ship), 113 Galbraith, Jay R , 4 Galveston (U.S. Navy cruiser), 140 Geis, Laurence R., Radm., 140, 145, 154 General Emergency Operations Plan (GEOP), 68 Geography, x, xxv, 18 George, Alexander L., 1, 14, 15, 16, 59, 62, 93 Gilpatrick. Roswell. 96. 102, 110 Glaeser, Frederick, Cdr., 185 Glavnokommanduyushchiv (USSR), 38 Golan Heights, 138, 160 Grenada, 31, 207 Griffin, Charles D„ Vadm., 120, 134, 136 Ground forces, xxvi-xxvii, 216-17 Guadalcanal (U.S. Navy helicopter carrier), 167 G u a m , 68 G u a n t a n a m o Bay, Cuba, 89, 98, 109, 124 Gulf of Aqaba, 139 Haig, Alexander, 163 Halperin, Morton H., 64, 66 Hayward, John T.. Vadm., 106-107 Helena (U.S. Navy cruiser), 74 Heyward, Alexander, Vadm., 64, 85 High frequency/single sideband (HF/ SSB) radio, 95-97, 99-100, 115, 122, 128, 136, 141, 148, 164, 248« Hancock (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 69, 76 Hopewell (U.S. Navy destroyer), 69, 77, 78, 80, 81, 83 Hopwood, Herbert G., Adm., 63 Hot line (U.S.-USSR), 26, 139, 152, 157, 197, 201 Hot pursuit, 67

318

Houser, William D., Vadm., 94, 96, 100, 102, 134, 136 Howe, J o n a t h a n T., Adm., 144 Hunter-killer (HUK) group, 63, 111 Ideology, x IL-28 Beagle jet bomber, 88, 90, 117, 242« Itva Mechnikov (Soviet merchant ship), 170 Implementation, 6 Inadvertent escalation, see escalation. inadvertent Inadvertent military incidents, xvii, xxv, 23-28, 50, 83, 131, 147, 157-58, 167, 183, 196, 200-202, 210-11, 21617, 219, 221-22 Inadvertent strategic-level escalation. 214-15 Inadvertent tactical-level escalation, 213-14 Incidents at sea, 41-42, 166, 175. 266»

Incidents at Sea Agreement (U.S.USSR), 42, 166, 175, 198, 270m Independence (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 91, 163, 167, 168, 169, 171, 172, 173, 175 Independent operating units, 7-8 Indo-Pakistani war, 1971, xxiii Information processing, 44 Intelligence, 38-39 Interaction, crisis, 2, 8-12, 34, 188; stratified, xii-xiv, 9, 28, 36-56, 81, 129, 153, 176-77, 188-89, 205: decoupled, xii-xv, 42-46, 51, 81-83, 129-30, 153-55, 177-78, 187, 191-95. 220-22; political-level, 37, 41, 50, 53, 83, 181, 187, 221-22; strategiclevel, 37-38, 41, 45, 48. 50-51, 53, 83, 217; tactical-level, xii, xiv-xv, xix, xx, 1, 38, 41, 45, 47-48, 50, 53, 190-91, 193, 195-96, 198, 205, 207208, 219, 221-22; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 77, 80, 81-84; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 117, 129-30; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 147, 15355; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 169, 176-78, 181-82, 186-87

Index Interaction of political and military considerations, xiii, 15 Interaction sequences, 9, 34, 36, 4142, 45 Intermediate range ballistic missile (IRBM), 87 International politics, 18 International system, x, xxvii Iran, 12, 222 Iraq, xxiv, 12, 138 Irvine, Robert K., Capt., 115 Israel, 26, 27, 201, 205; in 1967 ArabIsraeli War, 138-39, 142, 144, 14648, 150-51, 157; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 160-62, 165, 170-71, 182, 187 two Jima (U.S. Navy helicopter carrier), 170 J a p a n , 55, 70, 161 Jervis, Robert, 17, 18, 20 Johnson administration, xxii, 28, 139, 152-53, 189 Johnson, Lyndon B., 139, 141, 142, 146, 152, 154, 155, 156, 158 Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS), 37, 189; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 37, 62, 65-67, 70-73, 75, 79-80, 82,; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 88-91, 93-94, 102-105, 107, 109-10, 116, 120, 13233, 135; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140, 143, 150-51; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 165, 170, 172, 174, 176, 180-81, 184 Joint Staff, 94 Jordan, 138 Jordanian crisis (1970), xxiii Jupiter missile (U.S.), 92 Kalicki, J.H., 83, 84 Kaohsiung, Taiwan, 69 Kaplan, Stephen S., xviii Kashin (class of Soviet destroyer), 143, 147, 156, 166 Kennedy administration, xxii, 87-88, 105, 107, 119, 128 Kennedy Floyd D„ Jr., 71 Kennedy, John F„ 26, 88-90, 92, 93, 94, 96, 97, 100-5, 108-12, 114, 115,

118-22, 126-36, 154, 189, 191-92, 194, 202 Kennedy, John F. (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 163, 167, 170, 172, 174, 178, 187 Kennedy, Joseph P. (U.S. Navy destroyer), 115 Kennedy, Robert F.. 88, 102, 111, 118, 120, 122, 126 Key West, Fla., 91, 99, 126 Khrushchev, Nikita S., 26, 60, 91, 92, 108, 109, 112, 114, 116, 119, 122, 128-31, 136, 191 Kimovsk (Soviet merchant ship), 113 Kissinger, Henry, 161, 163, 164, 165, 168, 170, 172, 176, 179, 180, 181, 183-87, 193, 201, 204 Kithira anchorage, 143 Kivette, Frederick M., Vadm., 63 Knox, William, 119 Komar (class of Soviet missile boat), 106-107 Korea, North, xxiii, 12, 222 Korea, South, 12 Korean War, xxiii, 28, 63, 134 Kosygin, Alexei, 152 Kotlin (class of Soviet destroyer), 143, 166, 167 Kuter, General Lawrence, Gen., 65 Kvnda (class of Soviet cruiser), 166, 169, 172 Lassell, Donald L„ Capt., 99, 106, 126 Latent interests, 230n Lateral escalation strategy, 109 Latakia, Syria, 170 Latin America. 89, 90, 91 Law of Naval Warfare (NWIP 10-2), 115-16 Lawe (U.S. Navy destroyer), 97, 145 Lebanon crisis, 1958, xxiii, 224n Lebow, Richard N., 1, 2, 17, 22, 23, 25, 42, 46, 218-19 Lemnitzer, Lyman L., Gen., 140 Level of control tension, xvii, 53, 54, 85, 133-37, 158, 186, 203-204 Lexington (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 69 Lightning convoys, 74

319

Index Liberty (U.S. Navy ship), xx, xxxiv, 26, 138, 145-52, 154-55, 157-58, 192, 201, 203 Libya, 12, 25, 55, 222 Limited probe strategy, 59, 61, 81, 191, 235n Lipsky, Michael, 6 Little Rock (U.S. Navy cruiser), 140, 142-43, 163, 167, 168, 169, 171 Load shedding, 44 Loss of control, 17, 22, 23, 24, 36, 42, 79, 93, 133, 206, 207 Luttwak, Edward N., 29 Lynn-Jones, Sean M., xxxiv McCain, John S., Jr., Adm., 140 McCone, John, 92 McDonald, David L., Adm., 140; see also Chief of Naval Operations McGinty (U.S. Navy destroyer escort), 77-78, 80, 83 McGruther, Kenneth R., Cdr., xxx McNamara, Robert S., 22, 24, 189, 191, 192, 194, 202; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 89-90, 93-96, 101105, 107-12, 115, 119-22, 126-30, 132-35, 37; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 141, 151-52, 155; see also Secretary of Defense McNamara's Law, 22, 25 McNulty, James F., Cdr., xxxi Malta, 143 Mao Tse-tung, 60 Mariel, Cuba, 119 Marines, U.S., xxvi, 70, 90, 91, 100, 140, 143, 167, 170 Maritime Strategy, xxxi, xxxv-xxxvii, 11

Martin, Laurence W., xxxii Martin, William I., Vadm., 140, 141, 154, 148-51, 154, 156, 157, 158 Marucla (Lebanese freighter), 97, 11516 Massive retaliation doctrine, 65 Matsu Islands, 74, 76 Mechanisms of indirect control, xv, 8, 10, 25, 27-35, 43-44, 46, 49-50, 189-90, 197, 203, 206, 219; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 64, 79, 85; in 320

1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 101-108, 128, 130; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 141, 152-53; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 165-66, 175-76 Mediterranean Sea, 48, 70, 85, 189; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 138, 14243, 150-51, 155-58; in 1973 ArabIsraeli War, 164, 166-87 Medium range ballistic missile (MRBM), 87, 91, 92, 102, 116, 131 Metcalf, Joseph, Vadm., 31 Middle East, 55, 68, 85, 138-40, 15758, 160-62 Middle East Force (U.S.), 201 Mikhalevsky, Nicholas S., Capt., 115 Military accidents, 21, 23, 25, 26, 77, 78, 175 Military Air Transport Service, 133 Military Assistance Advisory Group Taiwan, 63 Military exercises, 201 Military operations, crisis, 19, 28, 36, 188, 207; ambiguity of, 19, 20, 47 Mirage jet fighter, 147 Mirka (class of Soviet corvette), 167 Misperception, xi, xvii-xviii, xxviii, 15, 21, 22, 49-50, 84, 131, 157-58, 182-84, 200-202, 221, 222 Mission kill, 185 Mission orders, 29-30, 33, 101, 141 Mobilization, 23 Momentary decoupling, 45-46, 187, 193, 196, 212-13, 222 Moorer, Thomas H., Adm., 163-64, 166, 174-75, 179, 180, 181, 185, 187 Morin, James B., Radm., 164 Mount Whitney (U.S. Navy command ship), 163 Multipolar system, xxvii Murphy, Daniel J., Vadm., 163, 168, 171, 172, 173, 180, 185, 186, 187 Murphy's Law, 24 Mutually reinforcing alert, 11, 47, 234n Mystere jet fighter, 147 Nathan, James A., xxvii-xxviii National Air Defense Forces (USSR), 38

Index National interests, xi, xviii, xxii, 13, 34, 45, 55 National Military Command Center (NMCC), 39, 95, 97 National Security Act of 1947, 28 National Security Action Memorandum No. 181, 88 National Security Advisor, 37 National Security Agency (NSA), 38 National Security Council (NSC), 45, 67, 163 Naval Communications Processing and Routing System, 163 Naval diplomacy, xxvi, xxviii Naval doctrine; Soviet, xxix, xxxv; U.S., xxix-xxx, xxxv, xxxvii Naval forces; advantages, xxv-xxvii, xxxii, xxxviii, 216; crisis stability problems, xxv, xxviii-xxxviii, 19596, 216; escalatory potential, xxxiv, 195-96, 199, 216 Naval missions, xxx-xxxii Naval operations, crisis, xvii-xviii, xxv, xxix, 218; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 68-79; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 108-28; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 142-52; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 166-75 Naval presence, xxv-xxvi, xxx-xxxiv; see also forward presence Naval strategy, xxxi, xxxv; see also maritime strategy Naval warfare, xxviii-xxix, xxxiv, xxxvii, 19,47,218-1.9 Newport News (U.S. Navy cruiser), 111, 113 Nitze, Paul H., 92 Nixon administration, xxii, 163, 175, 189 Nixon, Richard M„ 161, 164, 165, 168, 176, 177, 186, 204 North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), 11, 52, 55, 85, 167 North American Air Defense Command (NORAD), 37 North Vietnam, 28 Norwegian Sea, 167 Notice to Mariners, 120, 121, 123 Nuclear weapons, xxi, xxxv, 9, 21, 54,

189; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 65, 66, 70, 71, 74, 79; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 88, 92, 113, 118; see also strategic nuclear forces

Objectives, military, 52; political, 27, 128, 134, 154; political-military, xix, xxii, 36, 54 Offense-defense balance, 18-20 Office of the Chief of Naval Operations (OPNAV), 94, 103, 204 Offshore islands, 57, 58, 59, 60, 65-66, 70, 71 72, 78-79, 81, 82, 200 Okhotsk (Soviet merchant ship), 112 Okinawa, 69 Oliver, James K., xxvii-xxviii Operation Lightning, see Lightning convoys Operations order (OPORD), 33, 74, 90, 101-103, 109, 113, 116, 119, 165 Operations plan (OPLAN), 33, 74, 89, 101-103, 109, 165 Organization theory, 10 Organizational belief systems, 10 Organizational ideology, xxx, 228n Organizational process model, 3-4, 78, 123 Organizational routines, 7 Osgood, Robert E., xxvii Out-of-area contingencies, 55

Pacific Ocean, 55, 62, 68-70, 77, 79, 82, 85 Parallel stratified interaction, 42, 154, 159, 187, 192, 211-12 Parker, T. Wood, Cdr., xxxvii Paths to war, 20-21, 23, 224«, 230« Patterns of crisis military interaction, 188, 205, 211-15, 222 Pave Paws, 39 People's Republic of China (PRC), see China, Communist Perceptions, xix, 10, 17-8, 20, 47-48, 52, 82, 130, 155, 178, 184; see also threat perceptions, misperception Perry, John R. (U.S. Navy destroyer escort), 106 321

Index Pescadore Islands, 57, 61 Petersen, Charles, 173 Peterson. Kent D., 6 Petya (class of Soviet corvette), 167 Pierce, John R. (U.S. Navy destroyer), 97,115 Politburo (CPSU). 37 Political-military' tensions, xiii, xvii, 51-56, 202-205; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 84-86; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 131-37; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War. 158-59; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 184-87 Polnocny (class of Soviet landing ship), 167 Poltava (Soviet merchant ship). 11213,255M Portugal, 171 Posen, Barry R„ 22 Positive control method, xv, 29, 35, 43, 128 Powell, Herbert B., 95 Power projection, xxx Practice depth charges, 123, 126, 258n Preemption, xvi, xxix, xxxvii, 17-23, 47-48, 82, 130, 138, 155, 169-70, 173, 178-79, 181-86, 193-95, 203 Princeton (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 69 Provocations, 26, 182, 190 Pruitt, Dean G., 19 Pueblo (U.S. Navy ship), xxiii-xxiv Pugwash Workshop, 21 PVO Strany, 38

Quandt, William B.. 165 Quarantine line; Chestnut, 116; distance from Cuba, 111-12, 116, 251n, 252n; Walnut, 111, 116 Quarantine Plot (CINCLANT), 97 Quarantine Proclamation (October 23, 1962), 92, 105, 114, 119, 121 Quemoy-Matsu Crisis (1954-1955), 57, 65 Quemoy Island, 57-61, 64-66, 69, 7180, 82, 84, 202 Quester, George H., xxxiv

322

Radar, 39, 76. 153 Ramsey, Paul H„ Radm., 76 Rationality, 49 Readiness Alert Condition Yankee, 69 Readiness to perform wartime missions, xiii; see also tension between crisis missions and wartime readiness Republic of China (ROC), see China. Nationalist Riga (class of Soviet frigate). 143, 167 Riley, Herbert D.. Vadm., 77, 135 Rivero, Horacio, Jr., Adm., 136, 151 Roach, J. Ashley, Capt., 34 Roosevelt, Franklin D. (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier), 163, 164, 167. 172, 173, 187 Rota, Spain, 168 Roberts, Stephen S., 169, 173 Royal Navy (U.K.), xxvii Rozier, Charles P.. Capt., 126 Rules of engagement, xvii, xxxvii, 25, 33-34, 45, 47, 51, 189, 219, 233«; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 67-69; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. 103-108, 132; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War. 14142, 149-53; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 165, 176; in Liberty incident, 150

SA-2 surface-to-air missile. 107 Sagan. Scott D., 1 San Cristobal, Cuba, 89 Saratoga (U.S. Navy aircraft carrier). 140, 142, 143, 145, 146, 148, 149, 150, 156 Saufley (U.S. Navy destroyer), 99 Schelling. Thomas C., 13 Schlei, Norbert A.. 88 Schlesinger, Arthur M., 135, 136 Schlesinger, James, 162, 165, 172, 174, 175, 176, 186; see also Secretary of Defense School principals, 6 Scope of authority, 4 Sea control, xxx Secretary of Defense, 37, 189; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 62; in 1962

Index Cuban Missile Crisis, 88-89, 94, 105, 107, 115, 120, 123, 135; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140-41, 151, 152, 155; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 162, 165, 172, 174-76, 181, 186 Secretary of State, 37, 79 Security dilemma, xxviii-xxix, 17-20; see also crisis security dilemma Second Fleet, U.S., 154 Seventh Fleet, U.S., 68-70, 76 Sharp, U.S.G., Adm., 135 Sinai Peninsula, 138, 150, 157, 160 Signaling, political, ix, xv, xvi, xxvi, xxviii, xxxvi, 9, 14, 16, 19, 51-52, 54-55, 191, 197, 201-3, 220, 222; in 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 76, 81, 84; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, UO. 122, 128-29. 131, 134; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 141-42, 146-47, 153, 156-57; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 164-65, 168-74, 176-78, 18284, 186 Singapore, 69 Six Day War, see Arab-Israeli War, 1967 Sixth Fleet, U.S., 38, 189-94, 197, 200, 202-205; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140-48, 151, 153-59; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 160, 164, 166-87 Smoke, Richard, xxiv, 23, 59 Smoot, Roland N., Vadm., 63, 71, 72, 73, 77, 85 Snyder. Glenn H„ 1, 2, 13 Sonar, 39, 153 Souda Bay, Crete, 168, 169 Soviet Mediterranean Squadron, 38, 190-91; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 140, 142-47, 153-58; in 1973 ArabIsraeli War, 160, 166, 168-86 Soviet Union, 26-7, 37-8, 53, 60-61; Navy, 48, 95; General Staff, 37 Spears, W.O., Capt., I l l SS-N-3 anti-ship missile, 166 Standard operating procedures, 3, 126-27 Standing orders, 32-33, 47-49, 101, 153, 176,189 Stark (U.S. Navy frigate), xxiii Siavka (USSR), 37

Steinbruner, John, 127 Strait of Gibralter, 168, 170, 172 Strait of Messina, 168 Strait of Sicily, 168 Strait of Tiran, 142 Strategic Air Command (SAC), 68, 122 Strategic balance, xxi, 91-93 Strategic nuclear forces, I, 10, 16, 37, 52, 91, 217 Strategic Rocket Forces (USSR), 38 Strategy, 19-20; see also m a r i t i m e strategy, naval strategy Stratified crisis interaction, see Interaction, stratified Stratified crisis stability, see Crisis stability, stratified Stress, effects on decisionmaking, 45, 49 Structured focused comparison, xiv, 188 Styx (SS-N-2) anti-ship missile, 107 Submarines, Soviet; in 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, 97, 117-29, 191, 194, 256«; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 145, 153, 156, 190; in 1973 ArabIsraeli War, 166-69, 171, 173, 174, 190 Submarine Surfacing and Identification Procedures, 120-26 Suez Canal, 70, 138, 143, 160-61 Suez crisis (1956), xxiii Supreme Allied Commander Atlantic (SACLANT), 37 Supreme Allied Commander Europe (SACEUR), 38 Supreme High Command (USSR), 7 Surveillance, 10-12, 56 Surprise attack, 12, 18-19,31,53. 199; see also preemptive attack Sutherland, John W., 4 Sverdlov (class of Soviet cruiser), 166 Sweeney, Walter C., Jr., Gen., 95 Sylvester. Arthur, 119, 121 Syria, 12, 27, 201; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 138-39, 142-43, 146-47, 155; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 160, 162, 167-68, 170-71, 175, 183-84 System structure, x .32 3

Index Tachen Islands, 58, 59 Tacit rules of crisis behavior, 83-84, 197-98, 222 Taiwan. 57-59, 63, 66-72, 76, 79-80, 82, 85; see also China, Nationalist Taiwan Defense Command (TDC), 6364, 71, 73, 75. 80 Taiwan Patrol Force, 63-64, 67, 6970, 76, 78, 80 Taiwan Strait, 57-8, 61, 63, 67-71, 73, 75-82, 85-86, 191, 204 Taiwan Strait Crisis, 1954, see Quemoy-Matsu Crisis Taiwan Strait Crisis, 1958, xx. 57-86, 189-94, 197-98, 200, 202-204, 219; air defense of Taiwan, 66-68, 70, 72, 75, 77; artillery barrage, 57. 5961, 69. 71-75, 78-79; convoy escort and resupply operations, 57, 64-66, 70-75, 77-79; patrol operations, 57, 63, 67-71, 75, 77-78; PRC objectives, 59; PRC strategy. 59-60; ROC objectives, 58; U.S. objectives, 61; U.S. strategy, 61-62, 66; USSR role, 60 Tartus, Syria, 170 Task Force 60 (TF 60), Carrier Strike Force Sixth Fleet, 140, 163, 167 Task Force 61 (TF 61), Amphibious Force Sixth Fleet, 140, 143, 167, 168, 169 Task Force 72 (TF 72), see Taiwan Patrol Force Task Force 73 (TF 73), Logistic Support Force Seventh Fleet, 63 Task Force 75 (TF 75), Cruiser-Destroyer Force Seventh Fleet, 71 Task Force 76 (TF 76), Amphibious Assault Force Seventh Fleet, 63 Task Force 77 (TF 77), Attack Carrier Striking Force Seventh Fleet, 63, 71 Task Force 79 (TF 79), Fleet Marine Force Seventh Fleet, 63 Task Force 81 (TF 81), Patrol Force Atlantic, 95, 111 Task Force 83 (TF 82), Anti-Submarine Warfare Force Atlantic, 95, 111

324

Task Force 128 (TF 128), Amphibious Force Atlantic, 95 Task Force 129 (TF 129), Marine Corps Landing Force Atlantic, 95 Task Force 135 (TF 135), Carrier Strike Force Atlantic. 95, 117 Task Force 136 (TF 136), Blockade Force. 95, 110, 117 Task Force 137 (TF 137). Combined Latin American/U.S. Quarantine Force. 95 Task Group 60.1 (TG 60.1), 140, 167 Task Group 60.2 (TG 60.2), 140, 167 Task Group 70.4 (TG 70.4), Anti-Submarine Hunter-Killer Group Seventh Fleet, 63 Task Group 136.1 (TG 136.1), Blockade Force Surface Group. 111 Task Group 136.2 (TG 136.2), Blockade Force ASW Group. 111 Task Group 136.3 (TG 136.3), Blockade Force Underway Replenishment Group, 111 Tattletales, 190; in 1967 Arab-Israeli War, 143, 146-47. 153, 156; in 1973 Arab-Israeli War, 169, 176 Taylor, Edmund B., Vadm., 111 Taylor, Maxwell D„ Gen., 92, 93, 109, l'io, 115 Teatr voyennykh deystiviy (TVD), see Theaters of Strategic Military Action Tensions between political and military considerations, xiv, 15, 51-53, 84-85, 132-33, 158, 184-86, 202-203, 220 Tension between crisis missions and wartime readiness, xvii, 54-55, 8586, 133, 159, 186-87, 204-205 Terek (Soviet submarine replenishment ship), 117 Territorial waters, 73, 78, 80, 89, 100, 147 Test of capabilities crisis strategy, 14, 53-54,62,81,83, 191, 197 " Theaters of Strategic Military Action (USSR), 38 Threat perceptions, xix, xxix, 19, 47, 130, 155, 168-69, 179-80, 194-95,

Index 208-209; stratified. 130, 194-95, 209-10 Thucydides, x Tight coupling, xii, xv, 10-12, 34, 36, 3 8 , 4 1 , 8 0 - 8 1 , 128, 153, 156-57, 176, 187, 190, 197 Tightness of control s p e c t r u m , 29-32, 35 Tightly coupled forces, see tight coupling Tonkin Gulf Incident (1964), xxiii, xxxiv, 223 Tripwire strategy, 52 T r u m a n , H a r r y S., 63 T r u m a n - M a c A r t h u r dispute, 28 Tsou, Tang, 60 Tucker Robert W., xxvii Tung Ting Island, 60, 69 Turkey. 92, 133, 204 Turner, Stansfield, xxviii, xxx U-2 (reconnaissance aircraft), xxxiv, 26, 87, 108, 129, 131-32, 200 U.S. Defense Attache Office Tel Aviv, 150-51 U.S. Navy, xxv-xxxviii; see also naval operations U.S.-ROC M u t u a l Defense Treaty (1954), 57, 82 U.S. Taiwan Defense C o m m a n d , see Taiwan Defense C o m m a n d U l t i m a t u m , xxv, 23. 246M Unanticipated a u t h o r i z e d actions, 25 Unauthorized d e l i b e r a t e actions, 25, 27-28, 44, 46, 49. 130 Unitary actor model, 228M Unified interaction, 211 United Nations, 67, 138, 160-62, 182; Security Council, 139 United Stales Naval Regulations, 31-32 USSR, see Soviet Union Verkhonoye glavnokommandovaniye (VKG), 37 Vertical linkages, xii, 36-37, 41-42

Victorious (Royal Navy a i r c r a f t carrier), 143 V i e t n a m War, xxiii, 28, 139 War; accidental, 21, 49, 230M; catalytic, 21; causes of, x-xi, xiv; inadvertent, x. 21-22; nuclear, 28, 92; p r e m e d i t a t e d , 20-21 W a r plans, 33, 54. 65. 69 W a r Powers Act (1973), 224M W a r d , Alfred G„ Vadm.. 96, 97, 99, 102, 110, 115-17, 123, 136; see also C o m m a n d e r Second Fleet W a r n i n g of a t t a c k , 11 W a r s a w Pact, xxvii Washington Special Action G r o u p (WSAG), 163, 174, 179, 269n W a t e r g a t e scandal, 177 Watkins, J a m e s D., Adm., xxxvi, xxxvii Weapons, defensive vs. offensive, 1819 W e a p o n s technology, x, xxii, xxix, 18 Weinland, R o b e r t . 171-72, 174 Weisner, J e r o m e B., 100 Welch, David A., 16 Wells, Anthony. 142, 147, 153, 156 White House S i t u a t i o n Room, 39, 949 5 , 9 6 , 9 7 , 9 9 , 115-16, 128, 136, 141, 165, 252M

Williams, Phil, 13, 24 W i s s m a n , Robert J., Capt., 97, 126 World W a r I, xxiv, 23 World W a r II, xxxvii, xxxviii, 117, 134, 174 Wright, J o h n R „ Jr., Col., 89 Wvlie, Joseph C., R a d m . , 143, 151 Young, O r a n R., 1 Zelikow, Philip D., xviii Zulu (Soviet s u b m a r i n e class), 117 Z u m w a l t , E l m o R., Jr., Adm., xxx, 163, 164, 165, 169, 171, 174, 175, 176, 179, 180, 184; see also Chief of Naval O p e r a t i o n s

325