The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970 9781441149022, 9781474211130, 9781441128386

Citation preview

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 2

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 1

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 2

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970 Jon Wise

Bloomsbury Academic An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Bloomsbury Academic An imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square London WC1B 3DP UK

1385 Broadway New York NY 10018 USA

www.bloomsbury.com Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published 2014 First published 2014 Paperback edition first published 2015 © Jon Wise 2014 Jon Wise has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. No responsibility for loss caused to any individual or organisation acting on or refraining from action as a result of the material in this publication can be accepted by Bloomsbury or the author. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: HB: HB: 978-1-4411-4902-2 978-1-4411-4902-2 ISBN: PB: 978-1-4742-4796-2 ePDF: 978-1-4411-2838-6 ePDF: 978-1-4411-2838-6 ePub: 978-1-4411-7389-8 ePUB: 978-1-4411-7389-8 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress. Typeset by Fakenham Prepress Solutions, Fakenhan, Norfolk NR21 8NN Printed and bound in Great Britain

For Kate, Anna, Lou and Tom with love

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 5

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 6

04/12/2013 08:14

Contents Acknowledgements Preface Map of South America Abbreviations

Introduction: The Royal Navy in South America

1

Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations and the Case of South America The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s A Case Study: The ‘High Point’ of the Anglo-Chilean Naval Association, 1925–33 Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65 A Comparative Study: The Fate of the US Post-War Defence Plan for South America, 1945–65 The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 The End of an Era Epitaph and Legacy

2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Notes Bibliography Index

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 7

viii ix xi xii 1

9 41 67 93 115 141 167 189 199 209 253 267

04/12/2013 08:14

Acknowledgements My thanks are due to the College of Humanities, University of Exeter, and the staff of the Department of History in particular who guided me through my PhD studies, 2008–11. This book is a natural extension of the work I undertook for my doctoral thesis on the relationship between the Royal Navy and the Chilean Navy. I am particularly grateful to my supervisor, Dr Joseph Smith, for his support and his willingness to answer my many questions regarding South American economics and politics. I also acknowledge the encouragement and advice given at various times by Professor Nicholas Rodger, All Souls College Oxford; Jeremy Black, Professor of History at Exeter University; and Professor Martin Thomas, University of Exeter. I acknowledge the assistance given to me by the curators and staff at The National Archives at Kew, The National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, The Cambridge University Library, Cambridge, The National Archives and Records Administration in Washington, DC, and the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library, Independence, Missouri. I would also like to thank personally the following people: Dr Carlos Tromben-Corbalán, Historian of the Chilean Navy, for his assistance and his continuing friendship; Mr Paul Juckes, late of HM Foreign and Commonwealth Relations Office and Mrs Lesley Juckes. Finally, I am indebted to my wife, Lindsay, for her forbearance during the several years which I have been immersed in this subject.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 8

04/12/2013 08:14

Preface In the eyes of the general public, the British Royal Navy has long been associated principally with the exploits of certain enterprising Elizabethan sailors, with some of its finer moments during what is sometimes referred to as the ‘Long Eighteenth Century’, and as a flag-waving and occasionally threatening symbol of British imperialism in the late nineteenth century. Efforts have been made by naval historians over the past 50 years to offer a broader interpretation: to explore the role of navies in the formation of the state, to arrive at a more informed understanding of the infrastructure and organization supporting these incredibly expensive entities and, more broadly, to examine how a navy interrelates with the state machinery on a day-to-day basis. Although The Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970 does chronicle the Navy’s physical involvement with that continent during these years, its primary aim is to illustrate the contribution the service has made to the country’s foreign policy and particularly its work in support of British shipbuilding. Although traditionally a major player in the economy, by the start of the period under question shipbuilding was also demonstrating its own innate fragility in the face of market forces as well as the symptoms which would lead to its ultimate demise. The time-span involved also coincides with the terminal phase of British imperialism and the rise of the United States of America as the leading world power. To that end the book traces the fortunes of these nations as they both sought to achieve commercial domination across South America, a continent traditionally regarded as ever-ripe for exploitation. The use of a navy and of naval personnel in this kind of role is frequently disregarded or misunderstood through association with the over-used epithet, ‘showing the flag’. Although the Royal Navy during the middle years of the twentieth century might have been expected to adopt an entrenched and stubbornly conservative attitude towards expectations about its role in situations other than war-fighting or preparing for war, the opposite was true. Despite battles of its own to preserve status and independence in the face of intense financial pressures for reduction in both number and capability, the service learned to adapt to a new world order. This meant accepting that its responsibilities included playing an active part in

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 9

04/12/2013 08:14

x Preface

advertising the best of British shipbuilding as well as continuing to represent the country’s commercial and political interests overseas. What should be correctly regarded as a renascent emphasis on a traditional undertaking, described by Richard Woodman as ‘the flag following trade’, was brought into prominence after the decision was taken to withdraw British forces from their naval bases east of Suez. The origins of this newly fashioned peacetime role for the service can be traced directly to the activities of the Royal Navy in South American waters during the 1960s.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 10

04/12/2013 08:14

Preface

xi

South America – Political

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 11

04/12/2013 08:14

Abbreviations ARA ASW A&WI C-in-C CNS DCNS DE DNI ECGD EEZ FID FCO FO FY GDP GNP HMS HMY MDAA MDAP MoD NATO NID OAS RAF RFA RN TND USN VCNS VSTOL

Armada de la República Argentina Anti-Submarine Warfare America and West Indies (Squadron) Commander Commander-in in-Chief Chief of Naval Staff Deputy Chief of Naval Staff Destroyer Escort Director of Naval Intelligence Export Credit Guarantee Department Economic Exclusion Zone Falkland Islands Dependencies Foreign and Commonwealth Relations Office (British) Foreign Office Federal Year Gross Domestic Product Gross National Product His (Her) Majesty’s Ship His (Her) Majesty’s Yacht Mutual Defense Assistance Act Mutual Defense Assistance Program (British) Ministry of Defence North Atlantic Treaty Organization Naval Intelligence Division Organization of American States (British) Royal Air Force Royal Fleet Auxiliary (British) Royal Navy Tripartite Naval Declaration United States Navy Vice-Chief of Naval Staff Vertical/Short Take-Off and Landing

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 12

04/12/2013 08:14

Introduction

The Royal Navy in South America

On the 14 March 1929 the Caledon Class cruiser HMS Caradoc arrived at the Chilean port of Arica. A contemporary photograph taken three days later shows the ship lying offshore, riding at anchor on a bright and breezy day which is causing the Union Jack and the White Ensign to stand out stiffly fore and aft. Caradoc’s awnings are spread to afford the accommodation spaces some protection from the heat of the tropical sun. There is little obvious activity on the upper deck save for a small clutch of ratings busying themselves around the ship’s workboat which is attached to the port boom. The off-duty men were ashore at the time enjoying a banyan, a beach party, complete with a roasted broadside of beef courtesy of their hosts. The cruiser departed Arica early on 18 March southbound for Iquique. At this town every effort was made by the small British ‘colony’ under the untiring leadership of the local padre, Reverend L. G. Reid, to make the ship’s visit to the nitrate centre of Northern Chile a ‘home from home’. There were dances or ‘Open House’ for the ratings at the Masonic Hall in the early evenings, a horse racing afternoon with the principal race on the card featuring ‘The Caradoc Cup’, and football and rugby fixtures. On the last evening, Caradoc’s quarterdeck was used by the ship’s company to afford reciprocal hospitality in order to thank the small expatriate population for its generous hospitality: Various coloured electric lights, flags and paper decorations transformed this usual patch of ‘holy ground’ into a resplendent miniature ballroom, and all was ‘happy as a marriage bell’. Ardent sheiks, who were sworn to leave their hearts in Iquique, hugged their lady-loves in a last fond embrace and glided round to the strains of ‘I can’t give you anything but love, baby’.1

A similarly enthusiastic and hectic welcome greeted the cruiser at five other destinations before HMS Caradoc reached the largest Chilean port, Valparaiso,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 1

04/12/2013 08:14

2

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

on 2 May for the first of two lengthy visits. In addition to the customary round of sports fixtures arranged by the British community at the Badminton Sports Club, there were excursions to the capital, Santiago, and the formal commemoration of important calendar events. The anniversary of the accession of King George V to the throne was celebrated on 6 May, an occasion for the ship to be ‘dressed overall’ and for an exchange of gun salutes with the Chilean battleship Almirante Latorre. The Battle of Iquique, a seminal interlude in Chilean history, was marked on 20 May, with a march-past of the Arturo Prat Monument in the Plaza Sotomayor by a combined draft of Chilean, British and French Navy sailors, the latter from the French cruiser FS Tourville, which was also in port. This was followed by a reception for Caradoc’s officers with the President at his palace in the capital. Later, visits were made to the Chilean naval base at Talcahuano, to Coronel and to Juan Fernandez Island before the ship returned to Valparaiso for a further round of official engagements together with more entertainment and relaxation for the ship’s company. The cruiser left Valparaiso for the last time on 26 June to the refrain of Auld Lang Syne performed by the ship’s band on the poop. There were calls at various southern ports and a chance to view the geological wonders of Patagonia, before Caradoc rounded Cape Horn and finally departed Chilean waters. The cruiser had left the Ireland Island naval dockyard of the America and West Indies (A&WI) Squadron in Bermuda in February 1929, visiting Costa Rica before transiting the Panama Canal. A large squadron of United States warships was encountered at Balboa at the Pacific end of the canal. The port of Santa Elena in Ecuador, despite having ‘a mere handful of Britishers in a comparatively lonely outpost’, was considered important enough to visit in view of British interests in the Anglo-Ecuadorian oilfields some 12 miles inland. Likewise, the ship anchored in Talara Bay, where contact was made with workers at the International Petroleum Company based nearby. At one port further south there were found to be only two British expatriates.2 Shortly before commencing her long journey northward up the east coast of the continent, following the extended interlude in Chilean waters, HMS Caradoc rendezvoused with another member of the A&WI squadron, HMS Durban, which was travelling in the opposite direction and undertaking a similar itinerary. The two ships shared four days of exercises before Caradoc set course for Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. There followed visits to La Plata, some 30 miles from Buenos Aires, before the cruiser crossed the River Plate to celebrate Uruguayan Independence Day in Montevideo in the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 2

04/12/2013 08:14



The Royal Navy in South America

3

company of the very recently completed Italian cruiser Trento and two rather more venerable South American counterparts, the Brazilian Rio Grande do Sul and the Argentine Garibaldi. The Brazilian ports of Rio Grande do Sol, with its ‘British colony’, Rio de Janeiro, Pernambuco and Para were also visited before Caradoc returned to Bermuda in November after a nine-month, 15,634-mile deployment.

A specific role What was the purpose of this Royal Navy ship’s lengthy and rather leisurely deployment to the Western Pacific and South Atlantic Oceans, an area remote from customary ports of call in the Mediterranean or on the Atlantic littoral? Was it an exercise in ‘Gunboat Diplomacy’, in order to impress local politicians or to induce uncertainty in return for some form of political leverage? Were the coastal populations witnessing the lingering death-throes of Pax Britannica? Or should this voyage by HMS Caradoc be described more simply as ‘Showing the Flag’, a euphemism frequently applied to the appearance of the White Ensign in seaports around the world? Although Britain in the late 1920s was continuing to employ various forms of naval coercion in support of its vested foreign interests, for example on mainland China, this was not the case with South America. Despite the colonial possession of British Guiana in the north and the strategically important Falkland Islands to the south, there were no treaties to uphold and no military opposition to counter. Any threat that did exist came from the expanding commercial influence of the United States on that continent. Caradoc’s voyage might have been construed by some as the Royal Navy undertaking its traditional task as ‘the world’s policeman’.3 But this too would be misleading. Since 1921 the Royal Navy had been forced to accept that the ‘one-power standard’ was the reality for the foreseeable future; no longer was it so superior in terms of numbers to remain unchallenged in the peacekeeping role.4 The problem with the expression ‘Showing the Flag’ lies in its generic nature. It is frequently applied too loosely to cover a range of activities from assertive to benign naval visits to foreign countries or ports.5 Thus, none of the above descriptions adequately explains the true purpose of HMS Caradoc’s nine-month circumnavigation of South America. Nor, in a more general sense, do they convey what is a unique aspect of a naval vessel’s role in peacetime when its warlike attributes are of necessity almost completely

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 3

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

4

suppressed and yet, conversely, still serve to fulfil an oblique, symbolic function which cannot be replicated satisfactorily by any other military or non-military mode of representation. Indeed, it is all too easy generally to overlook or to misinterpret the exact nature of a warship’s presence in a foreign port as being merely an adjunct to foreign relations. Of course, the cruiser’s visits during 1929 were not isolated events randomly selected on a whim. Rather, they formed part of a carefully managed and accounted programme. In 1929, the type of centralized organization emanating from the Admiralty in London which had enabled such precise scheduling of warships’ foreign station programmes was still a comparatively recent innovation, at least in the minds of more senior naval officers who had undergone their training in the Victorian Navy. These men had been schooled in an age when commanding officers still enjoyed a good measure of autonomy. Importantly, the technological developments that provided the means for instant communication across the world were already in place, which would allow the ship to remain in contact with its foreign station commander and with the Admiralty on a daily basis if necessary.6 In this respect it is easy to empathize with Admiral James’s wistful evocation of a bygone era: … service on foreign stations was the common lot of officers and men; the political horizon was usually clear of cloud, and, as we know from letters and autobiographies, life could be very pleasant. A ship’s every movement was not reported by wireless, and if the captain thought he had found a good place for his officers and men he stayed there until its attractions began to wane, and then he moved further up the coast.7

But this was the age of accountability. The means by which the Royal Navy was able to maintain an almost uninterrupted presence on both coasts of the South American continent had been the result of a hard-won battle over six years at a time when, even if spending on defence was not actually reduced in real terms, governments could cite instances where important savings had been made. The cost of providing two naval vessels on the South American littoral in 1927 amounted to an additional £3,000 per annum to the Navy Vote, a decision that naturally required approval at Board of Admiralty level.8 Even so, the use of two ageing light cruisers for the task essentially constituted a compromise for the Royal Navy, as these vessels fell some way short of being ideal representatives of its modern-day fleet. The rationale behind the decision to reinstate the South America Division of the America and West Indies Squadron lay with the theory that the presence of

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 4

04/12/2013 08:14



The Royal Navy in South America

5

Royal Navy vessels in ports around the continent, provided they were arranged as part of a regular programme of visits, would reap financial benefits in terms of future warship export orders. This particular line of thinking is a core theme in this book. The premise was emphasized particularly by naval planners in the interwar period and again in the 1960s. There were significant gains for British shipbuilders in terms of naval contracts at the end of both the aforementioned decades, apparently as a direct outcome of what amounted to a concerted policy. At the time, the securing of a shipbuilding contract seemed to be the only tangible evidence that could be presented to justify the considerable expense of despatching warships on lengthy but essentially speculative deployments of this kind. If such a decision failed to realize the expected gains, then it became harder to present a valid case for its continuance. It was far more difficult to demonstrate, in any quantifiable sense, what was generally perceived of as an even more significant outcome, namely the wider advancement of the country’s prestige in the eyes of a foreign government and its people. And yet the presence, or conversely the absence, of Royal Navy warships on the South American littoral throughout the 50-year period under question was repeatedly raised in British Foreign Office documents as a key factor in any wider discussion about Britain’s standing and influence on that continent. This had not been the case in the nineteenth century, when the presence of the Royal Navy in a distant quarter of the world such as South America was not challenged in terms of ‘value for money’. In answering the question of whether or not the RN of the time acted as ‘a leading agent of the gentlemanly capitalists of the City of London and in Whitehall’, Barry Gough suggests that the warships on station were employed to respond to situations as they occurred rather than to adhere to a centralized scheme or set of objectives. The general aim was to maintain peace and order so that commerce could prosper and the British expatriate community could feel comforted by the sight of the White Ensign in local ports.9 However, such a loose arrangement could not last. C. I. Hamilton, in tracing the development of financial control over the undertakings of the Royal Navy, argues that the word ‘policy’ as used in naval papers began to emerge after about 1860, while the linked notion of a degree of financial control over the Navy’s activities had its origins in an enquiry into overspending during a war scare with Russia and operations in the Sudan in the mid-1880s. This resulted in the formation of a Standing Finance Committee in 1886.10 Control of Admiralty expenditure tightened over the years to the extent that, by the early 1920s, it was being overseen by the Finance Committee, which

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 5

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

6

now included a permanent secretary and secretariat. Both Hamilton and John Ferris state that Treasury powers to dictate terms over expenditure developed gradually through the course of the 1920s rather than immediately, as some historians have inferred.11 Nevertheless, one of the financial curbs imposed on the Royal Navy’s global presence resulted in the abolition of the South American Light Cruiser Squadron in 1921. The decision was immediately opposed. The squadron was considered to be of ‘diplomatic and commercial’ value and its withdrawal a blow to British prestige. In assessing its work, the Foreign Secretary’s remarks seemed to echo many of the same values placed on the Royal Navy’s presence in the region in the previous century, as Barry Gough described above. The visits of His Majesty’s Ships to South American ports are invariably productive of satisfactory results and international courtesies of this nature are highly valued by the Latin American countries. If the Squadron were withdrawn, attentions of this kind would continue to be paid by the United States Government, while His Majesty’s Government would no longer be in a position to arrange for periodical visits at suitable moments. It is in fact not too much to state that the withdrawal of the Squadron would probably be resented in South America as an affront, and as implying that His Majesty’s Government did not consider those countries as being of any great importance, notwithstanding the fact that more than half the British investment abroad, say nearly One thousand million pounds, is invested in Latin America.12

It is interesting and pertinent to ask what has been the Royal Navy officer’s own perception of this role which is at a remove from the Navy’s primary, war-related function? Recalling his period as a young officer in the Mediterranean Fleet in the 1890s, Admiral Harold Smith wrote: I don’t think we thought very much about war with a big W. We looked upon the Navy more as a World Police Force than as a warlike institution. We considered that our job was to safeguard law and order throughout the world – safeguard civilization, put out fires on shore and act as guide, philosopher and friend to the merchant ships of all nations.13

As far as ‘The Scribes’ who compiled With HMS ‘Caradoc’, Round South America were concerned, there is nothing to be found in the text to suggest that they gave any consideration at all to the wider implications of their ship taking part in this lengthy circumnavigation. Even the Commanding Officer, Captain H. R. Moore, somewhat coyly summed up the 1929 voyage as merely ‘a small Cruiser’s wanderings in South Pacific and Atlantic waters’, although his

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 6

04/12/2013 08:14



The Royal Navy in South America

7

customary ‘Report of Proceedings’ would have been carefully read by senior members of the Naval Staff, including the Director of Naval Intelligence.14 Of course, the prospect of visits to exotic, foreign countries has been a timehonoured recruiting ‘carrot’ for the Royal Navy, but even the boyish exuberance at the delights of foreign travel expressed in With HMS ‘Caradoc’, Round South America can begin to lose its appeal through too frequent repetition. By the end of the 1930s, a rather world-weary commentator viewed another visit to ‘Valps’ (Valparaiso) as ‘the one bright spot on an otherwise dirty and dusty coast’.15 Writing much later, Captain David Hart-Dyke, who lost his ship during the Falklands War in 1982, offers a very different assessment of the worth of this kind of duty, presumably based on his experiences during task group deployments during the 1970s: After Dartmouth, I spent many years at sea, mostly in destroyers and frigates, protecting the United Kingdom’s interests around the world and helping to make it a more stable place. I passionately believed in this important role, one in which, after centuries of experience, the Royal Navy was highly effective.16

It is understandable that Hart-Dyke should afford such prominence to a peacetime aspect of his profession in a book much of whose focus concerns a painful coming to terms with the loss of life of those for whom he bore ultimate responsibility. However, it is also indicative of a significant shift in emphasis towards concerns other than simply war-fighting from a naval officer trained in a post-Empire Britain. Interestingly, it is possible to detect similar sentiments to those of Hart-Dyke in a very different source written half a century earlier. During HMS Caradoc’s visit to Northern Chile in March 1929, an excursion by train was organized to Tacna, a town very recently ceded to Chile under the terms of the peace settlement with Peru. During the course of a picnic in a fruit garden arranged by a local benefactor, pamphlets were distributed which comprised an address of welcome from the local population to the ship’s company. Although the language in translation appears over-blown, the underlying message is clear and remarkably prescient: The patriotic audacity of Drake, the iron discipline and severe heroism of Nelson, were once upon a time the formidable weapons with which Britain made herself Mistress of the Seas; nowadays the exquisite polish of her sailors, combined with their utter virility and their complete technical preparation, is one of the most solid supports, one of the most immovable buttresses of the statesmen of Great Britain, in their task of ruling the waves.17

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 7

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 8

04/12/2013 08:14

1

Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relationsand the Case of South America

How can the mere presence of a warship in a foreign port make a difference? In the past, perceptions of a navy’s primary role in peacetime have been narrow, often restricted to a warship’s employment in threatening, persuading or supporting weaker nations in circumstances short of armed conflict. As the historiography demonstrates, examples have mainly concentrated on periods of tension when the tempo of involvement needs to be adjusted in order to influence events, thereby illustrating the inherent flexibility of naval forces. Although this theory has obvious relevance, it is also limited. More recent interpretations of naval contributions to diplomatic undertakings demonstrate that a warship can be used as a visible yet subtle symbol of a country’s intentions. However, a goodwill visit by a warship is just one part of a more complex structure of interrelated contacts between the parties involved that has to be functioning if a sound naval association is to work. To be completely successful, a ‘pluralistic’ approach has to be adopted by the dominant partner. This means employing a range of strategies to attract and then to sustain the health of the partnership. In addition to naval port visits, these might include naval missions in the recipient’s country, offers of training and an active advisory and liaison function undertaken by the naval attaché. Two other factors contribute to the successful working of a partnership of this kind. First, there has to be a genuine commitment by both ‘parties’. These parties will be referred to respectively as the ‘provider’ and the ‘client’ navy. Second, it will be shown that success depends to a large extent on the absence of negative, political interference and complications. If and when these negative elements are present, the association will struggle to function. The Royal Navy’s involvement with the South American continent during the middle years of the twentieth century neatly illustrates this important

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 9

04/12/2013 08:14

10

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

foreign policy function. Historically it had been the provider navy for a century. The White Ensign was a familiar sight in many ports on the South American coastline, a reassuring presence in support of British commercial enterprise. Additionally, particularly in the decades leading up to World War One, the client navies among the larger South American republics had provided welcome business for private British naval shipbuilding companies. In the wider sense, the Royal Navy’s South American experience can be used to examine the peacetime role of the service during this time in the light of the country’s decline from its former status as the most powerful empire in the world. What is perhaps the most surprising element of this narrative is the way in which the RN, despite declining in numerical strength and power, showed a capability to adapt to changing circumstances. By the 1970s, far from being in helpless retreat, it had retained its capability to offer a global reach for a country still anxious to project itself prominently on the world stage.

Naval power and naval diplomacy Until the last quarter of the twentieth century, it was considered that the primary peacetime function of a major navy such as the Royal Navy was to prepare for war. Therefore, it was a logical step to equate the use of navies in situations short of outright conflict as a very useful form of training for such an eventuality. Moreover the ‘overt’ employment of naval power became synonymous with the term ‘naval diplomacy’. It is this function that received the most attention from analysts both in Britain and the United States since World War Two, and particularly during the 1960s and 1970s. Writing in 1967, L. W. Martin describes a broad range of the uses of naval power in peacetime, from the historic concept of a ‘force in being’, exemplified in modern times by the ballistic missile-armed nuclear submarine to low-level policing roles, intelligence gathering and the protection of shipping. On the matter of showing the flag, Martin is of the opinion that it was a custom to which nations had always attached high importance in terms of protocol and gestures of mutual respect, while also acknowledging its function as ‘a by-product of the everyday pursuit of business’. In this sense, although the concept was generally seen as referring to naval ships, Martin contended that any type of vessel, such as a prestigious ocean liner, could also convey the right message regarding the status of the nation whose flag it bore.1 A sizeable proportion of Martin’s consideration of this peacetime role centred on the various ways in which demonstrations of naval power could be employed

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 10

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

11

as forms of ‘leverage’, a theme which was pursued in depth by James Cable in a series of books on the topic written in the period 1970–90.2 In Gunboat Diplomacy, this author established his theory and particularly the principles for what he described as the use of ‘limited naval force’ by a nation whose express purpose was to alter the behaviour of a target government. Cable’s later works were primarily focused on further historical examples of this coercive form of naval power in which he built on what had been, in his first book, a restricted chronological table of examples of his theory in action from 1919 to 1969.3 Edward Luttwak, in The Political Uses of Sea Power, saw the advent of the Cold War as a time when, in the absence of general hostilities, the political applications of sea power came to the fore. Using familiar arguments regarding the effect warships can exercise in terms of being small and transportable areas of floating sovereignty, Luttwak advanced the theory that there were two generic forms of what he called naval ‘suasion’. The first, ‘active suasion’, he defined as ‘reactions evoked by any deliberate action or signal’. In practice, this might result in a ‘coercive’ or ‘supportive’ reaction on the part of a navy depending on the particular event in question. Luttwak’s second type of naval suasion, ‘latent suasion’, is the more relevant form, being defined as ‘reactions evoked by routine and/or undirected deployments’. These reactions might be ‘deterrent’ in mode or else ‘supportive’. Again it is the latter form of latent suasion which is of most interest. The writer also acknowledges the negative aspects of such actions as perceived interference which could also attract support for the opposition.4

Naval support of foreign policy objectives The theories described above are principally concerned with the degree of influence great power naval forces can bring to bear on international political events. They do not encompass what might be essentially ‘benign’ relationships between navies. Nevertheless, in his exploration of what he termed ‘the ship-as-symbol’, Luttwak suggests that, whatever the underlying purpose might be, the symbolic role of the warship, for example in making a port visit or by despatching a naval mission, implies a commitment. In this respect, Milan Vego argues that navies are ideally equipped to support foreign policy, being flexible, mobile and politically symbolic. This capability to undertake multiple functions included presenting a favourable ‘image’ abroad.5 Rear-Admiral Bob Davidson, writing as a serving naval officer, emphasizes the ability of navies to respond

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 11

04/12/2013 08:14

12

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

speedily, ‘whereas land and air based forces require in situ logistical support via temporary camps and other infrastructure that takes time and planning to establish.’6 Michael Codner and Eric Grove, while working on the production of the first edition of The Fundamentals of British Maritime Doctrine, sought to synthesize Cable and Luttwak’s analyses in terms of their relevance to the role of the modern Royal Navy. They noted that the symbolic uses of naval force can be both ‘directed’ and ‘undirected’. For example, naval presence in the case of Britain’s association with South America was visibly represented through most of the interwar period by the ships of the South America Division of the America and West Indies Squadron. Codner would suggest that such a task is an example of ‘undirected symbolic usage’. Although the application of such terminology implies a certain rigidity of role, both Vego and Davidson argue that, if required, the ‘posture and behaviour’ of naval forces can be shifted rapidly from passive to active mode according to need.7 The United States Navy’s interest in the employment of  ‘presence’ in peacetime as part of a navy’s role came to prominence in 1970 when the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Zumwalt, argued that the future mission of the USN should be divided into four categories, the last of which was ‘Naval Presence’. In the process of analysing the significance of this term in 1974, Commander James McNulty suggests that in the past the US Navy Mission was thought of as exclusively encompassing such war-like tasks as ‘control of the sea’ and the defence of sea lines of communication. 8 McNulty states that presence was generally perceived of as being limited to ‘preventative’ and ‘reactive deployment’ evolutions by naval forces. As well as arguing that it might not necessarily demand the physical movement of warships to achieve its end, the writer speculates that such activities could include ‘visits of foreign officers and dignitaries to naval training and operating facilities in the United States’. McNulty perceives that these ostensibly low-key actions contribute to the national aim of deterring conflict. He lists seven ways in which this might happen including practical demonstrations of a political commitment, a point raised by Luttwak above. McNulty provides two examples. First, through ‘show the flag visits … where the principal impact is oriented toward public affirmation of US support of international agreements.’ Second, he suggests joint exercises at sea as a means of reassuring foreign nations regarding commonly shared goals.9 Booth reaches a similar conclusion to Admiral Zumwalt concerning a shift in direction during the Cold War in the matter of what he called ‘naval strategy’. He suggests that there was less concern with attaining victory in war than ‘with

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 12

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

13

furthering national interests short of war’.10 Essentially, Booth is concerned with justifying the very existence of navies. He divides their functions into three categories: military, diplomacy and policing. In the case of naval diplomacy he lists ‘naval aid’, ‘operational calls’ and ‘specific goodwill visits’. Naval aid might include the sale or gift of warships as well as the deployment of naval advisers. The bilateral naval agreements entered into between the USA and individual South American nations at the beginning of the 1950s would fall into this category. The operational calls refer to visits made as part of a wider programme and are carried out for the convenience of the visitor. Specific goodwill visits on the other hand, as the phrase implies, are aimed at maximizing the impact and can range from what Booth calls ‘a cocktail party for local dignitaries’ to more grandiose ceremonial occasions including government-to-government exchanges. Such visits carry an inherently symbolic weight owing to what the writer calls the ‘particularly expressive nature of warships’.11 Geoffrey Till identifies ‘coalition building’ as a term to cover a range of activities specifically intended to secure foreign policy objectives, not by the use of threat, either overt or covert, but through influencing the behaviour of allies. He reasons that the sea as ‘a truly international medium’ imparts a unifying effect which can extend ashore. Till singles out the importance attached by navies to port visits as routine expressions of this metaphysical bond. He then lists various forms of navy-to-navy activities ranging from conferences ashore to bilateral and multilateral naval exercises at sea and, finally, alliances such as NATO whose members might contribute naval vessels to a ‘standing force’ on a permanent or near-permanent basis. All the above measures are intended to reduce the risk of inadvertent conflict, to convey messages of reassurance and to improve operational coordination. Till argues for the existence of ‘postmodern states’ and, perforce, ‘post-modern navies’. Two of the four missions he specifies for such navies, ‘good order at sea’ and ‘the maintenance of a maritime consensus’, are attuned closely with the argument that collaboration between nations is of fundamental importance.12 Till claims that it is difficult to measure effectiveness in this respect, as these collaborative associations and operations cover such a wide spectrum of diplomatic, military and economic activities, often occurring over a number of years, which makes them difficult to justify in financial terms. The need to demonstrate value for money to a sceptical Treasury, and sometimes to a doubtful Admiralty as well, for the deployment of Royal Navy resources to South America was a recurring theme. Moreover, the effectiveness of such initiatives can be undermined through lack of an established policy and their

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 13

04/12/2013 08:14

14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

overall worth can be judged only in the long term, a point that was frequently overlooked or entirely missed through lack of historical continuity by civil servants whose career structure ensured a regular rotation of posts. Till chooses to expound on the above theories under the umbrella title of naval diplomacy. The authors of The British Maritime Doctrine, on the other hand, are careful to differentiate between naval diplomacy and defence diplomacy, although they concede that there are instances of overlap. Acknowledging that the latter term was defined as one of the key missions of the 1998 British Strategic Defence Review and was therefore not referred to in the first edition of the Doctrine, the distinction drawn is nevertheless pertinent. While naval diplomacy is designed to influence the will and decision-making apparatus of a state or group of states in peacetime and in all situations short of full hostilities, they claim that it is a term with a specific application. Defence diplomacy, on the other hand, is perceived as ‘a cooperative and helpful approach to other states as a means of improving relations. In that sense it is generally benign in its application.’13 There are three conclusions that can be drawn from this résumé about the way in which various writers and serving naval officers have considered the contributions made by navies in support of foreign policy objectives over the past 40 years. First, the lack of a clearly defined descriptive vocabulary is not merely a question of semantics; it also points to the fact that such issues have tended to be marginalized in favour of examinations of the more eye-catching examples of peacetime naval involvement during periods of international tension short of war. The importance and relevance of Till’s ‘post-modern’ navy in its role of maintaining order and consensus is certainly understood and recognized, but there is still a lack of detailed analysis of these recently identified functions which naval vessels might undertake which encompass more subtle forms of defence diplomacy. Second, as several writers acknowledge, the edges of any definition become blurred. Warships can of course execute several tasks at the same time. Thus, a naval visit to a foreign port, for example, by its very nature the positioning of an armed piece of sovereign territory within another state’s national boundaries, can be interpreted in different ways, hence the acknowledgement in The Fundamentals of British Maritime Doctrine that elements of overlap exist between naval diplomacy and defence diplomacy. Third, other than in a few oblique references, there is scant recognition of the fact that a naval association in support of a country’s foreign relations manifests itself in any form other than through a visit to a foreign port. Therefore a multi-faceted approach to securing a sound naval relationship between two countries offers a more complete explanation of this essential foreign relations task.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 14

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

15

Admiral Fisher’s pluralistic approach to the establishment of naval relations There are precious few records of this multi-faceted approach to strengthening naval relations between provider and client navies being articulated within the timeframe of this study. However, one example stands out. Rear-Admiral William Fisher was appointed Director of Naval Intelligence (DNI) on 17 August 1926 on a temporary basis, in order to cover the absence of Rear-Admiral Hotham due to illness. This posting had followed a 10-month period on half pay and it preceded his promotion to the rank of Vice-Admiral and a year later to the prestigious role of Deputy Chief of Naval Staff. Thus Fisher’s very brief tenure in the office of DNI only merits a passing reference by his biographer, but it was long enough for this highly intelligent and perceptive officer to have left his mark in the form of a lengthy internal memorandum addressing what was at the time the vexed matter of the British armaments industry. This industry, as Christopher Bell remarks, was suffering the effects of the ‘Washington shipbuilding holiday’, the measures proposed at the Washington Naval Conference of 1921–2, and the reluctance of successive governments to spend lavishly on naval construction.14 Fisher’s memorandum, composed in late October 1926, dates from the end of his time in the post. Addressing the fact that the accepted view was that war on a large scale was considered to be unlikely during the next few years, the DNI was of the opinion that the relatively high prices charged by private shipbuilders in the export market, who did not benefit from the kind of government support enjoyed by some of their competitors, could be ‘neutralised to a certain extent’ provided there was positive action taken in other areas to encourage the placing of naval orders by foreign countries. Fisher listed these courses of action as: a. The presence of Naval Missions. b. Instructional facilities accorded in this country. c. Visits of part of the Fleet to those countries which normally see little of the excellence of British design and workmanship.15 Admiral Fisher noted that ‘Measures under (a) and (b) above have been taken and are still being pursued’. While this was true in theory with regard to naval missions, it was not strictly the case with respect to the provision of training in naval instructional facilities in the UK. Fisher may have supported and advocated this cause in principle, but the extent to which there should be

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 15

04/12/2013 08:14

16

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

access to naval courses and particularly to HM ships at sea was a matter of deep controversy within the Admiralty and the RN at large, particularly in the interwar period. Naturally, the principal thrust of the DNI’s memorandum concerned the proposed arrangements for visits by RN vessels to prospective buyers in order to demonstrate the benefits of British expertise in ship construction. Significantly, it was Fisher’s contention that, ‘Of the various (shipbuilding) programmes, the South American are the most important and immediate.’16 However, the utilization of naval missions as a means of further cementing and strengthening the links between the provider and the client had not been articulated before, and its contribution to naval relations and its potential value as a source of influence over a recipient navy make it a highly relevant subject for analysis. The same is true with respect to the contribution made by naval attachés. Although Admiral Fisher does not elaborate on the potential value of service, and indeed non-service, personnel residing in the recipient country, there can be little doubt about their significance in terms of the overall impact they make with respect to naval culture and ethos. In this respect it is also important to recognize the contribution of all forms of advisory bodies: technical specialists, instructors, naval college lecturers, naval attachés as well as the civilian representatives of naval shipbuilding companies.

Warship visits to foreign ports in peacetime The arrival of a warship in a foreign port on a pre-arranged visit is the most obvious and visible demonstration of naval diplomacy in peacetime. However, it has been mostly acknowledged simply as a gesture of goodwill and therefore only marginally noteworthy. Unless it has been of a particular political significance, little attention has been paid to the associated diplomatic subtleties: the details of the pre-arranged itinerary, the timing, the type of vessel employed, who might be embarked or the symbolic nature of the visit itself. Yet, each of these issues carries a particular diplomatic, political or commercial significance or weight. Until fairly recently, any references to port visits have tended to be the remit of biographies, sometimes as a prelude to the more ‘important’ history of the subject’s war experience or else as a vehicle for a succession of often humorous personal anecdotes about life in the navy. Such accounts are usually simple, descriptive chronicles, and it is rare to find any insight into the function of visits

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 16

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

17

to foreign ports in terms of their contributions to British diplomacy and foreign relations. One exception is to be found in Captain J. G. P. Vivian’s introductory remarks to the privately printed account of 1930–2 commission of the cruiser HMS Dauntless’. Vivian conceded: ‘Some readers may be tempted to ask why the country spends a considerable amount of money in sending a warship on these long cruises which appear, on the surface, to have little connection with training for war.’ Vivian proceeds to justify such deployments, referring to the strengthening of ‘bonds of friendship … through personal contact’. He reminds the reader of the precedents; in earlier times it had been ‘the merchant adventurers who did the pioneer work and the flag followed close on their heels.’ In the present-day environment (1934) ‘… the British merchant still considers that the showing of the flag of his country, wherever he is operating, enhances his prestige and helps him in his business.’17 However, comments such as these, made in a relatively obscure and low-circulation publication, were essentially private, reflecting the writer’s personal experience and observations. The fact that Vivian’s interpretation of the term ‘showing the flag’ was placed within the context of his country’s commercial effort rather than in the more common usage as a subtle form of Luttwak’s term ‘naval suasion’ points to the unhelpful generic nature of this phrase. This more widely accepted understanding of the term is evident in Captain Augustus Agar’s book, appropriately entitled Showing the Flag. The book is principally an account of this much decorated officer’s experiences on foreign stations in the interwar period. Published in 1962, when, as the author acknowledges, attitudes towards empire and colonialism were changing, Agar felt impelled to justify the Royal Navy’s role in upholding what he describes as ‘British prestige’ across the world. Like J. G. P. Vivian, Agar drew attention to the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century custom of the ‘White Ensign’ and the ‘Red Duster’ working in concert and, by reputation, bringing reassurance to far reaches of the globe by the mere act of showing the flag. These flags came to symbolize ‘peace, progress and integrity’ in business matters; Agar’s impassioned assertion that this was a righteous, civilizing act is couched in biblical tones: ‘All was well and everywhere there was much cause for rejoicing.’18 Agar later uses the analogy of the ‘traffic cop’ to describe the RN’s role on the world’s trade routes during the nineteenth century; the task of continuing to show the flag had evolved from a pioneering enterprise into a never-ending burden of responsibility which the service had to bear in the face of much adversity in order to fulfil what he describes as ‘a sacred trust’. The author ends

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 17

04/12/2013 08:14

18

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

his panegyric in 1920 by describing the return of Admiral Lord Jellicoe from his tour of the Dominions aboard HMS New Zealand, during which he had received an ‘enthusiastic and often tumultuous welcome’ wherever he landed. In receiving the grateful thanks of countless Empire subjects, here was the vindication for all the effort made down the years to bring civilization and order to the world, a task in which the Royal Navy played an integral part. What is notable in Agar’s description is the absence of any reference to a RN warship visiting a foreign port as constituting a form of naval coercion. There was no ulterior motive other than as a symbolic signal of reassurance with a God-given right to bring order and civilization.19 Yet in reality, of course, the deployment of what sometimes amounted to a squadron of naval ships on ostensibly friendly cruises was frequently used as a subtle means of power projection. This practice had been undertaken by several of the major naval powers during the early decades of the twentieth century and before. For example, Rear-Admiral Geoffrey Hornby was appointed to command the newly created Flying Squadron on 1 January 1869. His task was to show the flag in distant British colonies where there were no permanent station ships. The deployments would also serve as ideal opportunities for squadron training. Although from a purely naval point of view the Flying Squadron concept was laudable, in reality it stemmed from an economy measure on the part of William Gladstone’s Liberal Government of the day, aimed at reducing the Royal Navy’s numbers on overseas stations. The Flying Squadron’s circumnavigation of the world was highly successful in most respects; the loss of the turret battleship HMS Captain off Cape Horn constituted a singular tragedy. The White Ensign had been seen in remote parts of the world, visitors had been welcomed on board and invited guests taken to sea to witness exercises. From the RN’s perspective the deployment constituted a supreme test of seamanship skills.20 Famously, the round the world ‘Great White Cruise’ (1907–9) by 16 United States battleships was the culmination of President Theodore Roosevelt’s Mahanian-inspired foreign policy to announce the arrival of his country on the world stage. Henry Hendrix describes as ‘muscular’ Roosevelt’s interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine whereby the United States by 1904 had assumed responsibility for ‘policing’ the western hemisphere. This was clearly demonstrated when the US fleet circumnavigated the American continents before setting out across the Pacific.21 James Reckner differentiates between the first half of the cruise, which was to prove the ability of the US Navy to assume its hemispheric responsibilities in times of crisis, with the rest of the global circumnavigation which was a broader exercise in naval diplomacy. It is impossible to ignore the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 18

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

19

symbolism which the appearance of these warships offered the onlooker in ports around the world. Their sheer size and large-calibre guns carried the traditional threat of the warship and thereby the potency of this aspirant world power, yet they were painted white overall instead of battleship grey, with golden bow fixtures which conveyed starkly different messages commonly associated with peace and prosperity.22 Richard Collin’s description of the courtesy visit paid by the French cruiser FS Tage to the city of New Orleans in February 1903 demonstrates the way in which the actual timing of a port visit could carry a wider significance of a kind that is easy to overlook. On the surface, this obsolete armoured cruiser, which Collin refers to as ‘an elephantine anachronism’, was hardly a worthy modern advertisement for a navy which, although in the process of gradual decline, was still one of the largest in the world. On one level the occasion was simply a resounding social success because it served to reunite on the eve of Carnival the populace of New Orleans with its Gallic roots. However, Collin argues that the visit was made at a key juncture in world diplomatic history, coinciding as it did with the new, proactive role being played by the United States, and with the beginning of negotiations between Britain and France which culminated in the Entente Cordiale of 1904.23 Although Collin concedes that the actual timing of the Tage’s arrival in New Orleans was essentially coincidental, nevertheless it was significant in terms of the oblique signals it conveyed to the world regarding the preparedness of France to embrace change. The symbolic nature of a port visit is explored further by Jan Rüger in his study of Anglo-German naval rivalry in the years leading up to World War One. Rüger recounts how naval reviews were used, for example, to publicize newly formed alliances. The public masses that flocked to such spectacular events, together with the media, would constitute a captive audience to witness the array of visiting naval warships. Thus, the 1902 Spithead Review, arranged ostensibly to mark the coronation of King Edward VII, had a particular political purpose in announcing the new British–Japanese alliance. It was agreed that Japanese and British warships should be illuminated at night, ‘in a synchronized manner, even using the same coloured lights’. By contrast, however, the attendance of Royal Navy vessels at the annual Kiel Week in the summer of 1914 was looked upon with deep suspicion by the Kaiser, who ordered his men to be particularly watchful. It was fully expected that the British would use the occasion to despatch intelligence officers to spy on the German Navy.24 In the aftermath of World War One, a mixture of disappointment at the lack of a decisive naval victory on the scale of the Battle of Trafalgar and the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 19

04/12/2013 08:14

20

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

understandable opposition felt by a significant number of the British population to any suggestion of a celebration of war meant that there was no return to the vast international naval spectacles of the pre-war years. However, as in the case of Lord Jellicoe’s tour in HMS New Zealand, referred to above, the best-known and most powerful warships in the Royal Navy were employed on a number of occasions during the 1920s in order to transport dignitaries, including royalty, on world tours. The battle-cruiser HMS Renown was used in 1919–22 to convey the Prince of Wales to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India and the Far East and, in 1927, to take the Duke and Duchess of York to the West Indies, the Pacific and Australasia. In 1925, HMS Repulse took the heir to the throne to South and West Africa and to South America.25 The express purpose of these costly and time-consuming deployments was to unite the Empire at a time when uncertainty and, in some cases, outright opposition to British rule was growing. Despite the contention of ‘J.S.S.L.’ – ‘These royal tours were … occasions of great demonstrations of loyalty to the Crown and pride in the Empire’ – according to Joseph Moretz this was not always the case. The arrival of the Prince of Wales in Bombay in 1921 aboard Renown, for example, provoked riots and strikes.26 However, royalty were not involved in what was the most ambitious and extensive of these post-war tours. A ‘Special Service Squadron’ was formed in 1923 comprising the battle-cruisers HMS Hood and Repulse, together with five of the most modern light cruisers. The government instructed that the ships should undertake a world cruise visiting almost all the scattered territories of the Empire. The stated purpose of this major undertaking was to emphasize the link between these far-distant lands and the Crown and to remind those countries of their dependence on British sea power. Such was the importance attached to this venture that the Admiralty ensured through various means that the ships selected were ‘a credit to their service’ while the Treasury relaxed its normally stringent policy over funding in order to meet the burden of extra entertainment allowances for officers and the cost of an additional 40,000 tons of fuel oil for the ships.27 A diary recording the events of the tour, written in a mature and perceptive manner by Midshipman W. R. Gordon, openly admits the propaganda purposes of the enterprise. He lists the principal methods of delivery of the government objectives as being through the medium of public speeches delivered by the Admiral commanding, by the opening of the ships to visitors, the provision of free access to the press and, interestingly, ‘by route marches which enabled the people to form an idea of the stamp of men we possessed’.28 The welcoming

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 20

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

21

manner in which naval visits were conducted and, most importantly, the bearing and behaviour of all the personnel involved, were perceived as being of the highest importance. The choice of HMS Hood to lead the Special Service Squadron was significant for a nation which, according to Ralph Harrington, between the 1880s and the 1940s regarded the sea, ‘and particularly the extension of national power across the sea by means of the Royal Navy’, as being of particular importance. Although the battle-cruiser was only three years old at the time of the deployment, the vessel had already acquired an iconic status in the country, ‘embodying the finest achievements of navy, nation and empire, and she slipped easily into the role of an “ever-travelling ambassador” for Great Britain.’29 The true purpose of the 1923 World Cruise was not, of course, simply to extend the hand of friendship or to receive the accolades of a grateful Empire but also to make sure, as in the case of the visit to South Africa, that the vital Cape route to the east remained secure. Gordon notes that the arrival of the squadron in Cape Town was ‘hearty’ but added that ‘some of the anti-British extremists affected to ignore us’. The true impact of this chance observation by a junior officer was apparent later when, during the visit to Mossel Bay further east along the coast, HMS Hood trained its searchlights on the night sky. The mixed message behind this powerful announcement of the ship’s presence was unmistakable. As well as producing a dramatic spectacle to be seen far inland, it was also an unequivocal reminder to the Afrikaan population of the region, the searchlights ‘echoing the power and penetration of gunfire’. The same demonstration induced ‘fear’ among superstitious tribes of West Africa and ‘amazement’ when used in Fiji.30 Two further examples from the post-World War Two period illustrate the way in which a naval presence in a foreign port can be variously interpreted. The 1947 Royal Tour to South Africa took place at a politically sensitive time shortly before the election of the Nationalist Party, with opposition to the visit emanating principally from an Indian community fearful of the threats being made by the white population regarding the forthcoming introduction of segregation laws. On the surface, the arrival of the King and Queen in Cape Town with their two young daughters aboard Britain’s largest warship, the battleship HMS Vanguard, was a cause for celebration after the drudgery of the war years. The description of the ship’s entry into Table Bay is redolent with symbolism: Two penguins, in line abreast, swam slowly into the basin. Then, through the blue mist, the Vanguard came into view. At 7.59 am she picked up the pilot

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 21

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

22

and proceeded round the breakwater. Turning up to enter Duncan Basin she came on straight as a die, with two tugs on either side keeping open formation, and the pilot tug bringing up the rear. There was just enough wind to lift the Royal Standard, where it flew at the mainmasthead, and the Union and Lord High Admiral’s flags at the fore yardarms. Seen thus, bows on, she presented a magnificent spectacle.31

To all intents and purposes, here was a classic example of the fusion of naval and royal pageantry, with this powerful warship being manoeuvred with parade-ground precision by a highly professional ship’s company to bring the monarch to visit his peoples. Despite reports of it being a joyous occasion with a rapturous welcome from huge crowds, as with the interwar cruises, this was not simply an occasion for pomp and ceremony. In reality, the long-planned tour, delayed by the war years, was intended to shore up support for a crumbling Empire on the eve of independence in India and amidst growing nationalist movements in many Commonwealth countries. The visit proved to be a huge strain on an already ailing King George. Symbolically, the ship which bore him was by 1947 an anachronism; the recent world conflict had proved that the days of the battleship as the most potent war vessel were over. Furthermore, half the main 15-inch gun armament of the 44,500 ton Vanguard was rendered useless anyway, as, six months after first commissioning, the ship had been converted into a temporary royal yacht for the use of the King and his family with a sun lounge being constructed on the quarter deck close to the guns.32 Moreover, owing to post-war austerity measures, the entire strength of the Royal Navy’s South Atlantic Squadron, providing a ceremonial escort for Vanguard, numbered just three vessels. They were in attendance to mark the last occasion when the RN would sail alongside His Majesty’s South African Navy ships before the latter became an independent command in 1951. Thus the monarch himself, the Empire and the power of the mighty Royal Navy could be perceived as being in irreversible decline. The second example occurred at the very end of the century when Hong Kong, arguably the last significant, territorial remnant of the British Empire, was formally handed back to the Republic of China in 1997. The Prince of Wales representing the Monarchy arrived aboard HMY Britannia, the ship which for nearly 50 years had been famous for its ambassadorial role around the world. An article about the historic visit which appeared in the South China Morning Post includes photographs of the elegant royal yacht entering Victoria Harbour with the futuristic Hong Kong skyline in the background. Another one shows a

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 22

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

23

proud RN officer in the engine room of his ship; the gleaming dials and wheels shown in the picture were testimony to the loving care of the crew. Conversely, they portray an archaic and obsolete ship soon to be discarded without replacement, symbolic perhaps of a valedictory gesture by this formerly mighty imperial power.33 The handover may have been conducted in a courteous and benign manner ashore, but just over the horizon the Royal Navy had amassed the largest task force it had assembled in the Far East for over 25 years, including an aircraft carrier, a nuclear fleet submarine and amphibious ships. The official communiqué indicates that this was by nature of an ‘insurance policy’ in the event of the unexpected taking place; in truth it was a spirited demonstration that the RN was still a potent and modern naval force, in stark contrast to the venerable yacht which, of course, represented the way in which Britain wanted the world in general to recall the event.

Twentieth-century Royal Navy missions An analysis of the Royal Navy missions that were commissioned during the first half of the twentieth century is revealing and, as stated above, contributes to a broader appreciation of the nature of a sound naval association. There is marked variety to be noted in terms of their purpose, size and longevity. It is also illustrative of the difficulties involved in delivering a successful outcome. The naval missions to the Baltic States, China, Greece, Persia, Romania and Turkey are considered. Admiral J. N. Godfrey’s monograph on naval attachés and naval missions, written in 1947, was based on his experiences as head of the Naval Intelligence Division (NID), 1939–42. His paper is mainly concerned with the part played by intelligence officers who were attached to missions or acted as attachés in time of war. However, the section entitled ‘British Naval Missions’ does provide his overview of the different functions a naval mission might be called upon to undertake. He lists the various tasks as including: a. fulfilling a liaison capacity either at the Admiralty, the base or even on board the flagship of an ally; b. forming part of a large and ‘all-embracing mission’ at the highest level, e.g. in the case of the United States; c. handling, buying and selling naval contracts;

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 23

04/12/2013 08:14

24

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

d. training a small navy. Sometimes such missions act in an advisory manner only; others would provide some form of specialist technical training or work exclusively at a naval staff college.34 Predictably, political ambitions are the most common form of motivation underpinning the despatch of any naval mission. Greece’s geographical position meant that, prior to World War One, it was strategically important for Britain to exert an influence in the country at a time when, owing to the growth of the German High Seas Fleet, there was a need to reduce the size of the British Mediterranean Fleet in order to concentrate RN warships in the North Sea. Zisis Fotakis, in Greek Naval Strategy and Policy, 1910–1919, provides a very detailed account of the importance as well as the scale of these ventures.35 The work of the first mission, 1911–13, involved the provision of technical supervision and naval training. Opportunities were also afforded for Greek officers to attend naval schools in Britain. However, despite the influential position in which the British found themselves, they were unable to secure a lucrative shipbuilding contract which instead went to the German firm Vulkan.36 The second mission, a much larger one initially composed of eighteen RN officers led by Rear-Admiral Mark Kerr, fared no better in terms of naval procurement. However, it was successful in introducing some structural reorganization and in developing British naval methods, for example in minesweeping techniques and signalling. After Greece had joined the war on the allied side in 1917, a third RN mission effectively took over the running of the Greek Navy. However, this mission was terminated prematurely owing to accusations that its head, Rear-Admiral Brown, had meddled in Greece’s internal politics. According to the British version of events, Admiral Brown was ‘misled’ by his intelligence officer, ‘“who seemed to be forever moving in an atmosphere of intrigue, plots, impending mutinies, and so on”’.37 This setback proved to be a temporary one and there followed five further missions between 1919 and 1932 and several more between 1945 and 1956, making the AngloGreek naval connection arguably the largest, longest and most important of its kind involving the RN in the twentieth century.38 But to what extent was the Anglo-Greek naval association successful? In the light of Admiral Fisher’s pluralistic strategy, the experience with the Greek Navy up until 1919 delivered its broad aims regarding the balance of naval power in the eastern Mediterranean and the opportunities it afforded to influence Greek training and methods. But it failed to achieve any additional, material gains that would have accrued from naval orders, and its relations with the Greek

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 24

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

25

Government and its navy were soured to a degree by the interference in politics at different times by two of the heads of mission. Naturally, the end of World War Two resulted in a change in emphasis, and the stated aims of the succeeding missions were mostly restricted to the broader matter of providing advice on the reorganization of the Greek Navy. It is pertinent to note that, during the 15-year interwar period when there was a regular British Naval Mission resident in Greece, there were still no naval orders at all for British shipbuilding firms. The Greek Navy turned instead to France and Italy for its destroyers and submarines. This was despite the fact that there was a very strong Royal Naval presence in the Mediterranean which ensured a regular programme of visits during the Fleet’s annual cruises by some of the RN’s most advanced ships, thus fulfilling another of Fisher’s requisites for a sound naval association. A financial crisis affected Greece in March 1932 which meant that the salaries of the Royal Navy officers involved fell into arrears. This precipitated the closure of the British mission and all other foreign missions as well for the remainder of the interwar period.39 The importance of maintaining a good working relationship with the recipient government during the life of a mission is demonstrated most aptly in the case of the missions to the Ottoman Empire during the period 1908 to1914. Chris Rooney argues that the primary aim of the British Government in sending its naval personnel to Turkey at this time was to temper the influence of Germany in the region. This aim was not achieved and, although Rooney contends that the presence of the RN could not be held directly responsible for this failure, the conduct of two of the leaders caused considerable problems for the Foreign Office. Admiral Williams did not enjoy good relations with the Turkish Admiralty. By contrast, Admiral Limpus’s Turcophile inclinations at times provided a source of acute embarrassment for the British Government. It is pertinent to note, however, that Turkey was the only country to send naval officers to be trained in the UK during the life of the various naval missions that are mentioned here. In the event, only two of the four officers sent during 1913–14 completed their course at the Royal Naval College at Greenwich.40 Both Fotakis and Rooney provide examples of the way in which the selection of personnel and what appeared to be a lack of initial guidance for the heads of mission often led to difficulties at a later date. This shortcoming was also evident in the case of Admiral David Norris, who was invited to lead a small team to Persia in 1920. He sought advice from the Foreign Secretary, Lord Curzon, who ‘… asked me what orders I had in relation to the Naval Mission to Persia. I replied that I had none, but rather hoped to get a line from him. He said that I should doubtless get my orders from the Admiralty …’41

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 25

04/12/2013 08:14

26

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

In the event, the British Naval Mission to Persia lasted less than a year and, as is evident from his letters, became a source of deep disappointment for Norris who, after formulating expansive plans for the rapid development of the Persian Navy, swiftly became disillusioned in a country where he felt that his services were unwanted. His final letter before departure from Teheran concludes pessimistically and hopelessly, ‘It cannot be said that they (the Persians) really desired a Navy or could pay for it, nor is it likely that a Persian Navy would have a long existence in an inland sea such as the Caspian …’42 To all intents and purposes, the invitation made in February 1931 to Captain H. T. Baillie-Grohmann to lead a mission to China in the rank of Commodore in order to assist in the development of that country’s navy, seemed an attractive proposition. This was especially the case as it was supported by a contract which confirmed that, in return for the services of the mission and for training some of its officers in the Royal Navy, an order would be placed with a British shipbuilding yard for a new cruiser to be built. Before taking up the appointment, Baillie-Grohmann sensibly sought advice and was warned not to get involved in politics in any way. ‘I was a Naval Advisor and should stick to that.’ The C-in-C of the China Station offered the view that, ‘if I left without materially improving their show, so long as I kept friendly relations going, I would have done my job.’43 When Baillie-Grohmann arrived in the country he was faced with a bankrupt and largely incompetent navy, a nation in the early stages of a civil war and the necessity to liaise with an eccentric and unpredictable Vice-Minister of the Navy in Vice-Admiral S. K. Chen. Despite the Commodore’s best endeavours during his two-year tenure, very limited progress was made in improving the education and tactical skills of the personnel, and he was hampered by a general lack of cooperation and acceptance of change by Chen. Moreover, BaillieGrohmann soon learned that the terms of the contract were meaningless as the Vice-Minister had no intention of having the promised cruiser built in the UK. The order instead went to Japan, as the Commodore later learned from reading a newspaper article.44 Nevertheless, despite Baillie-Grohmann’s personal frustrations and disappointments, which are most evident from his reports and letters, his mission had managed to maintain at least equable relations with the Chinese Government in power and to prevent the Americans from supplanting the RN’s position in the advisory role. On a personal level, Baillie-Grohmann discovered that the Chinese refused to pay him for his services despite an agreement arranged by the British Ambassador to China. Although the matter was eventually resolved, it highlighted

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 26

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

27

another problem in relation to RN personnel working in this capacity. This lent weight to the value of the pragmatic advice the Commodore was offered prior to his arrival and underlines a fundamental argument that these missions were often exercises in relation to wider foreign relations objectives rather than being concerned too closely with naval matters. The British Naval Mission to China, 1931–3, as in the case of Greece, failed in its objective of securing a valuable export order. The Chinese cruiser contract was awarded to a Japanese company because the British shipbuilders were unable to match their price.45 However, in other instances, the lack of a coordinated approach between the British Foreign Office and the Admiralty can be seen as being the root cause of the failure to profit from the work accomplished in securing good relations in the recipient country. Donald Stoker describes the attempts by what he called the ‘Baltic successor states’, as newly independent nations, to develop their navies in the aftermath of World War One with the assistance of the British.46 In each instance, the lack of a coherent policy on the part of the two government offices involved and the naval advisers and diplomats working in these countries, failed to take full advantage of a situation initially advantageous to British overseas interests. Immediately after the end of World War One, Britain’s relations with the state of Estonia were particularly positive, at least in part due to the fact that the embryo Estonian Navy had assisted the RN in its operations against the Bolsheviks in 1919. An initial gift by the British of two destroyers was well received, but enquiries by the Estonians about acquiring further vessels met with resistance from the Admiralty which, at the time, was reluctant to encourage small states to build navies. The matter was further exacerbated by a difference in opinion between Lord Curzon and some of his Foreign Office officials who, in turn, suspected the Admiralty of offering very poor-quality vessels to the Estonian Navy when the RN was pressed to accede to this request. The Admiralty showed similar recalcitrance over the matter of providing training for Estonian naval cadets in the UK and to despatching technical and training manuals for use by the naval staff in that country.47 The refusal to cooperate proved to be a source of embarrassment for the FO which provided the principal channel for communication between the navies of the two countries. It is highly likely that the source of the Admiralty’s refusal to cooperate was due to the fact the adviser to the Estonian Navy, a Commander Littledale, who was the principal negotiator on behalf of the Estonians, was suspected of being a deserter from the Royal Navy. The possibility of establishing good diplomatic and naval relations with Finland in the interwar period also proved impossible, owing to what Stoker

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 27

04/12/2013 08:14

28

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

described as ‘the inept manner in which the British generally dealt with Finnish inquiries, as well as the lack of British conscientiousness in regard to Finland’. Again, Admiralty policy proved to be the stumbling block. For example, Finland’s attempt to purchase submarines in 1920 was hampered because the RN was advocating the complete abolition of these vessels. At the same time, Anglo-Finnish relations were never strong enough for a Royal Navy mission to be established in that country. The third Baltic successor state with which there was an opportunity to forge a fruitful naval partnership was Poland. As early as 1919, negotiations began for the purchase of British warships. Although the proposed deal came to nothing owing to the precarious state of the Polish economy, a naval mission was despatched in 1920. However, this was terminated a year later, this time because of Treasury pressure and a lack of willingness on the part of the British Government to provide any financial support. The Admiralty also opposed the mission, denying the possible benefits which might accrue in terms of naval orders. Thus the Treasury and the Navy found themselves at odds with the Foreign Office, which argued that a British naval mission would serve to offset French influence in Poland.48 The final example to be analysed, the short-lived British Naval Mission to Romania, 1930–1, encapsulates most of the problems found elsewhere in establishing a sound working liaison of the type which have been illustrated above. As will be demonstrated, the difficulties seemed to relate to personal shortcomings and to a degree of duplicity shown by the recipient country at a higher level plus the financial realities of the time rather than the quality of the ‘product’ involved, namely the expertise and reputation of the Royal Navy. Traditionally, Romania had been under French naval influence but, by the end of the decade, overtures via diplomatic channels and the RN attaché in particular suggested that the government was anxious to distance itself from the economic dominance of its Western ally. The Romanian Government and its king were reported to be interested in having a new base built at Constanza and substantially to expand the navy. Expert British advice would be sought and the promise of future naval orders and involvement in the construction of the dockyard were hinted at by means of enticement.49 The relevant documents of the period reveal an initial enthusiasm and optimism on the part of the Naval Staff at the prospect of this involvement. The connection was made with visits by units of the British Mediterranean Fleet. It was claimed that these showed ‘how important it is for us to send our latest ships to foreign ports, since visual impressions seem to produce the deepest

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 28

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

29

effects’.50 Nevertheless, there were caveats. The Romanians were pressing for their senior officers to be allowed to attend RN Staff, War and Tactical courses in the UK, privileges which were disallowed under Admiralty rulings. Moreover, it was recognized that the naval attaché, who was acting as an intermediary during initial discussions, had misinterpreted the extent of the Romanian interest in having warships built in British yards. Meanwhile, the FO doubted the ability of the shipbuilders to secure credits from the City of London owing to the precarious state of the Romanian economy, while the Treasury stipulated that secure orders for warships were required before funds could be released to cover the cost of any training for Romanian officers in the UK.51 There had been a further misunderstanding about the size and the scope of the British involvement and, in the light of experiences during the previous mission, the importance of selecting the appropriate person to lead the delegation was highlighted. The personality of the previous head of mission had been cited as the reason for its failure and its non-renewal. Commander Thompson, although liked, ‘lacked those qualities of tact, patience and forbearance which are in a peculiar degree necessary to success in such a post.’ Thompson, it was claimed, was ‘blunt and tended to be drastic and impracticable in his suggestions about reorganising the navy.’ Eventually, despite all these misgivings, it was decided to send a senior Royal Navy officer to Romania to act in an advisory capacity.52 Admiral Henderson arrived in the country in April 1930. Although he found his Romanian counterparts seemingly preoccupied with other matters (‘such few words that are now in my vocabulary lead me to suppose that their chat is generally about the “fair sex”’), he swiftly ascertained that any extension to the port of Constanza was impracticable and that a far more grandiose scheme for a new base some distance from the city would require investments which were likely to be beyond the capacity of the country’s economy. It was becoming apparent that, as in the case of China, the involvement of the Royal Navy was being used as a political tool, this time by the Romanians. It was suggested that the base at Constanza could be used as a shelter for the RN and other allied navies in the event of Russian attack. A new alliance between Romania and Britain would serve as a ‘bulwark’ against Russian aggression. Doubts were immediately cast on the perception that the British Government would wish to be involved in a crusade involving ‘civilized Europe against barbarian Russia’. Romania’s plans to act as a buffer state between Russia and the West would hardly have appealed to Arthur Henderson, the Foreign Secretary of the time. He used his period in office to initiate talks with the Communists that would lead to a resumption in the diplomatic relations which had been severed in 1917.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 29

04/12/2013 08:14

30

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

The following month it was revealed that the French were putting pressure on the Romanians to accept a mission and to oversee the proposed building works. Although it was claimed at the time that the latter were resisting these overtures, it was suspected that the Romanians were not being entirely honest in their approaches to Britain and would return to their traditional ally again once Admiral Henderson had departed. Unsurprisingly, the naval order also did not materialize. The ambitious Romanian naval plan had been advocated during a period of comparative financial stability in the mid-1920s, when some vessels had been ordered to be built in Italian yards. Thus the second phase of expansion, which had been hinted to the British naval attaché in 1930, was also scrapped, as, in common with other small, agrarian countries, Romania suffered most severely as a result of the world recession.53 These examples demonstrate how difficult it was in the interwar period to achieve success in terms of securing the confidence of the recipient country to the extent to which, for example, a stable political and naval relationship might be established and orders for warships might therefore be forthcoming. This was despite the obvious appeal of Britain’s dominant position at the time as the leading world naval power, together with the professional experience and technical prowess at its disposal.

Function of the naval attaché Although Admiral Fisher does not refer specifically to the role of the naval attaché, it is clear from examining the documents of the period that the appointed officer or officers involved played a vital part in maintaining good relationships, particularly on a continent such as South America where the respective countries and their expatriate communities might otherwise feel isolated and forgotten. The security of these appointments was frequently under threat from the Treasury which, ever anxious to secure savings, questioned the value of such posts simply because of the difficulty in quantifying the value of their presence. By contrast, there was often pressure from the recipient countries for an increase in the number of attachés, particularly at times when naval export orders were in the offing and there was a perceived requirement for advice from a uniformed professional. For the Royal Navy, the boundaries between offering technical advice and acting as a ‘salesman’ proved to be contentious. Thus a clear understanding of the role that a naval attaché might be expected to undertake in a region such as South America lay at the heart of the matter.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 30

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

31

For many, the popular image of a naval attaché was that of a glorified spy. His primary function would be to glean information about the strength of a rival naval power. In the interwar period, for example, there was concern expressed in the Admiralty about the amount of access even ‘friendly’ foreign attachés should have in witnessing such events as warship launches or fleet exercises.54 This interpretation of the task as principally that of a covert intelligence gatherer would have been reinforced, within the Royal Navy at least, by reading Admiral J. N. Godfrey’s internal monograph referred to above. It is clear that gaining intelligence wherever possible through visits to foreign naval vessels under construction, for example, was a key task for the attaché, provided that such pursuits did not in turn serve to compromise British naval security. For example, the Admiralty Board ruled in 1938 that, if the opportunity for a visit by an attaché to a foreign warship under construction was likely to be of special interest or of particular importance, it should be pursued as long as a reciprocal visit by a foreign attaché ‘does not appear to be to our disadvantage’.55 However, aside from discussing the work of individual attachés during World War II, Godfrey does offer an analysis of the principal duties an attaché might be expected to undertake in peacetime, and he provides an interesting list of the personal qualities demanded by what was a novel form of posting for a serving naval officer. The individual skills, judgement and experience of the attaché were deemed to be qualities of considerable importance; a good deal also depended on the degree to which these men secured the trust of those with whom they worked. Godfrey claimed: Naval attachés lead rather isolated lives and many of them never know ‘quite where they are’. Brought up in the naval tradition of shouldering responsibility and producing results, they have to adapt themselves to the unfamiliar world of diplomacy which deals with policies and trends, and is not so interested in action.56

The reasons for appointing an attaché were made almost exclusively on political grounds and/or to gather specific intelligence information. However, Godfrey did concede that, as in the cases of the smaller navies such as those possessed by the South American countries, the primary motive would be the winning of contracts for warships and armaments. He stressed the importance of a sound grasp of the language and recommended a six-month course prior to the appointment. In essence, however, the personality of the officer chosen to perform an often delicate and pivotal liaison function, where a misunderstanding

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 31

04/12/2013 08:14

32

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

could precipitate a diplomatic crisis, was seen to be the critical, overriding factor. For Godfrey, a successful naval attaché should be ‘… a good mixer, with good manners, tact and sound judgement … sober without being a teetotaller, possessing good digestion, and a presentable wife …’57

The case for a focus on South America The impetus given by the Admiralty for its warships to return to South American waters in 1927 had its origins in the need to support the private shipbuilding companies whose importance to the prosperity of the navy had increased steadily over the past 50 years. Experiences prior to World War One, of which the so-called ‘South American Dreadnought Race’ that developed principally between the years 1904 and 1913 was a prime example, had demonstrated that Britain did not possess a hegemony of naval shipbuilding for the world. Private firms required the active support of government and, if contracts were not won by British companies, there was enough foreign competition to fulfil the need. A. J. Arnold claims that, although the British Government had a long tradition of purchasing goods for the army and navy from the private sector, it was the contracts placed with private shipbuilding companies for the construction of the nations’ warships in the second half of the nineteenth century that ‘put state procurement on a substantial long-term basis’.58 The technological revolution in warships which embraced not only the development of the use of iron and steam but ordnance and protection too, drove successive governments to the private sector as a matter of expediency. For example, J. D. Scott quotes W. G. Armstrong who, when asked why the Admiralty came to rely heavily on his Elswick factory for the increasingly complex hydraulic fittings for its ships, stated that it was ‘for the simple reason that they could hardly do otherwise’.59 Arnold suggests that the private companies, who were already experienced in the new technologies emerging from the numerous demands of the industrial revolution, were placed at an advantage over the traditional source of shipbuilding for the Fleet, the Royal Dockyards that had specialized in mainly wooden construction. Moreover, mergers within the private sector had brought an integration of skills relevant to the complexities of warship building which included steel plate construction, armaments manufacture and emplacement. Sidney Pollard, on the other hand, argues that a more complex synergy was present which caused the majority of work to be allocated to the private companies.60

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 32

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

33

However, an increasing reliance on private enterprise was viewed with both scepticism and misgiving. There were many who viewed the arms trade and arms traders in particular as greedy, amoral and ruthless in the pursuit of profit. Other critics suggested that contractual arrangements between the government and the private sector were less than satisfactory and would lead to the making of excess profits.61 Nevertheless, engaging with private companies afforded the governments of the day a more flexible environment in which to operate, one that could absorb the fluctuations of the shipbuilding market. If demand for warships was low, firms which built for the mercantile sector as well could respond accordingly. Conversely, should there be a requirement for excess spare capacity, this too could be absorbed without the need to support that capacity constantly at a level equal to its maximum predictable demand. The large construction programme resulting from the Naval Defence Act (1889) provided a perfect demonstration of the wisdom of such a policy.62 In the 1870s the private sector was responsible for around 20 per cent of the tonnage built to Admiralty account; by 1900 this figure had risen to over 50 per cent and would average 67 per cent in the five years preceding World War One. Arnold states that no fewer than 25 private-sector firms constructed warships for the RN in the period 1889–1914. But it was the larger concerns – Armstrong-Whitworth at Elswick, Clydebank Engineering (later John Brown), Fairfield, Palmers of Jarrow and Vickers at Barrow-in-Furness – that possessed the flexibility and the facilities to carry out both government and private work simultaneously. This in turn enabled them to maximize their capacities.63 Naval work was mostly profitable and was aided by a willingness on the part of the companies to collaborate. Lewis Johnman and Hugh Murphy show that profitability stemmed from the fact that the task was ‘infinitely more skilled’ than mercantile construction, and the timescale between design and completion was much longer and therefore commensurately more expensive for the client. Ian Johnston et al., in analysing the industrial infrastructure which lay behind the creation of the Grand Fleet that fought at the Battle of Jutland in 1916, emphasize the importance and the necessity recognized at the time to sub-contract work on ordnance, armour, gun-mounting and propulsion if even the most successful of the private concerns were to survive in a highly competitive market and technologically demanding environment.64 It was the Armstrong-Whitworth company that focused particularly on the building of warships for foreign navies and dominated this market for nearly 40 years before being overtaken in that department by Vickers. Peter Brook shows

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 33

04/12/2013 08:14

34

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

that, in the extended period 1867–1927 leading up to amalgamation, the two companies together built 82 warships and submarines for 20 countries; a total of 386,755 tons. By comparison, the same firms built 248 warships and submarines totalling 734,865 tons for the Royal Navy.65 The technological advances listed above meant that nations such as Japan and Russia were dependent on the more industrially developed countries for ironclad warships until the beginning of the twentieth century, while other medium powers, including Turkey, China and the major South American republics of Argentina, Brazil, Chile and Peru, never developed indigenous warship building industries during this time.66 Therefore, although naval construction to foreign account inevitably formed only a minority share of the work of the private companies, it was a significant minority. For example, in the period 1900–14 Vickers’s Admiralty work accounted for 60.4 per cent of gross tonnage, with overseas contracts contributing a further 22.5 per cent, thus vastly outstripping commercial contracts which were in sharp decline. Understandably, foreign orders were condoned by the governments of the day, who were anxious to support the health of the private shipbuilders whose continuing prosperity was constantly under threat in a volatile market. Even the risk of the latest naval technology falling into the wrong hands seemed readily tolerated, unlike in the nascent naval shipbuilding industry of the United States, as is demonstrated below.67 A recurrent theme in the years covered by this book is the importance attached by the British Foreign Office and the Admiralty to the Latin American and specifically the South American market for naval exports. Particularly in the 1920s, it was argued that the example of the years leading up to World War One provided the best incentive for a renewed emphasis on penetration of this particular sector. However, D. C. M. Platt, assessing the broader aspects of British trade with Latin America in this period, while conceding that naval sales represented the most lucrative part of armaments trading, argues that the 1900–14 period was relatively unsuccessful. In 1913 Argentina, Brazil, Chile and Peru imported from Britain £369,584 worth of arms, ammunition and military and naval stores compared with £1,667,245 sold to Australia, South Africa and New Zealand. Platt singles out two reasons for what he clearly considers to be underperformance by British shipbuilders in particular: first, the domestic demands engendered by the Anglo-German naval race; second, the complacent attitude of the two British companies concerned. Platt argues that these two ‘lost’ the order for the construction of two Argentine battleships to the USA in the knowledge that they were assured large and profitable future contracts from different sources.68

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 34

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

35

Platt’s assessment, while useful in measuring the relative value of arms sold to South America compared with similar sales in other parts of the world, does not concern itself with the wider significance of the regional naval arms race that developed during the first decade of the twentieth century. This rivalry must be regarded as a major factor in informing Britain’s continuing interest in the continent’s naval fortunes after World War One. At the same time it constituted the start of a battle between Britain and the United States to be South America’s dominant ‘provider’ of naval matériel. The aforementioned ‘South American Dreadnought Race’, involving Argentina, Brazil and Chile and competing European and US private shipbuilding and armaments firms, resulted in the ordering of eight dreadnoughts together with considerable numbers of destroyers, submarines and ancillary craft. It is generally agreed that Brazil’s decision to redress the naval balance of power on the continent in 1904 provided the stimulus for this race. The naval expansion programme which took final shape in 1906 had at its core the award of contracts to Armstrong at Elswick and Vickers at Barrow for the building of two 21,200 tons (full load) dreadnoughts, Minas Gerais and São Paulo, which were acknowledged at the time as quite simply the largest and most powerful warships of their kind in the world. The ordering of these vessels caused an international political controversy, as the timing of the order implied that Brazil would commission its dreadnoughts earlier than other major naval powers such as France and Russia.69 Rumours regarding the motives of the Brazilians included the possibility that the nation was acting as an agent on behalf of a third party. The amount appropriated for the Brazilian ‘Building Programme’, as it was titled, was estimated by Seward Livermore as being in the region of $31,250,000. In addition to the dreadnoughts the plan included two scout cruisers, ten destroyers and three submarines.70 Argentina could not respond to the Brazilian programme in kind immediately but instead acted diplomatically by cancelling the 1902 Disarmament and Arbitration Treaty with Chile and its associated five-year moratorium on warship building. Opinion in Argentina was divided between those who regarded the Brazilian plan as reckless and unaffordable and hardliners who favoured a similar naval expansion in order to counter the possibility of a pre-emptive strike by its traditional rival. The hardliners eventually succeeded, and legislation in the form of the Armaments Procurement Act was passed in August 1908 permitting the spending of some $55 million on naval armaments. The Act authorized Argentina’s acquisition of two battleships, six destroyers and 12 torpedo boats.71

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 35

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

36

Competition for this naval order was intense, with Britain, France, Germany, Italy and the United States collectively submitting no fewer than 144 tenders for various aspects of the entire expansion programme, of which 67 alone related to the two battleships. After a period of fierce rivalry during 1909, it was decided in January 1910 to award the contract for the two 30,600-ton Rivadavia Class dreadnoughts to the Fore River Shipbuilding Company of Quincy, Massachusetts. Crucially in so doing, Argentina decided to abandon the European shipbuilding companies which had constructed seven cruisers for its navy over the past 20 years in favour of the United States, whose private companies had never before built a warship for a South American country. The breaching of the European domination of this market was significant on two counts. First, it demonstrated the ability of the US to compete successfully with the vastly more experienced European shipbuilders. This was no mean feat for the North American shipbuilders who, according to William Walters, just 20 years earlier had ‘lagged far behind their European counterparts in techniques and in speed of construction’. Second, it marked a turnabout for the administration in Washington, which in the spirit of the Monroe Doctrine had made diplomatic efforts in 1906 to defuse the growing South American rivalry. Three years later the mood and the policy had changed, and it was now argued that it was: … [in] the best interests of the Government to encourage the private establishments, as far as practicable, in obtaining foreign orders for the building of ships and manufacturing of war material, especially from those countries affected by the Monroe Doctrine. It is thought that it would result in increasing our available resources in time of war, or threatened war, while adding materially to our commercial prestige and prosperity.72

The winning of the Argentine contract produced a wave of enthusiasm in the US State Department, and speculation grew during 1910 about the possibility of building a third battleship for the Brazilian Navy, with further opportunities relating to Turkey, China and Chile. The latter, the third South American country to be affected by the naval race, had suffered economic difficulties relating to the collapse of the nitrate market in 1907 and a disastrous earthquake the following year, which had delayed its reaction to the naval build-up in the region. However, unlike Argentina and Brazil, Chile’s naval ties with Britain were secured through tradition and, despite the full-time appointment of a US naval attaché to South America and the despatch of a ‘Special Service’ Squadron in

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 36

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

37

1910, the contract for the first of two battleships was awarded to Armstrong, work commencing in November 1911. The tendering process for the ship was again intense and accompanied by accusations of the use of unfair practices by the British.73 Shortly afterwards, the ‘South American Dreadnought Race’ lost its momentum following a mutiny on board the newly delivered Brazilian battleships, after which the two vessels were taken out of commission. In December 1913, Brazil sold a third battleship it had ordered from Britain to Turkey while the vessel was still under construction. In turn this prompted both Argentina and Chile to consider disposing of their major warships. Although this threat was not carried through, the US administration was vexed at the thought that the two Argentine battleships, carrying much of the latest technology it had been most reluctant to install in the first place, might end up in the hands of a hostile government.74 Neither the loss of the Chilean order nor the termination of the dreadnought race ended US involvement with the South American navies. In fact it was the reverse. The economic penetration of the continent, which required a reinterpretation of the Monroe Doctrine, had with the Argentine contract taken the form of a first major venture into naval exports. This was followed in 1920 by the acceptance of a request from the Peruvian Government for a naval mission to be sent, a move which effectively ended the pre-war dominance by the French Navy. The ordering of four ‘R’ Class submarines from the Electric Boat Company of Connecticut some five years later represented a significant shift from European to US influence upon a South American navy, which would be followed by other nations during the course of the middle years of the twentieth century. The Argentine contract also signalled another important milestone in US policy. As stated above, the building of the Rivadavia Class battleships actively encouraged the continuance of the dreadnought race in the interests of American commercial prosperity and prestige. Just over 40 years later, the US was to interfere again with the balance of power in South America by selling cruisers to each of the major naval republics. Once more, the motives that lay behind the decision were governed by commercial interests rather than altruism. Despite disappointment at not receiving the contracts to build the Argentine battleships, British private companies still gained considerably from other aspects of the South American naval expansion programmes. Two small cruisers and ten destroyers were built by Armstrong and Yarrow respectively for Brazil, while Argentina ordered two torpedo boat destroyers and two gunboats

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 37

04/12/2013 08:14

38

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

from British companies. The remainder of the naval expansion plan benefited German and French firms as well. Predictably, Chile’s almost total reliance on Britain for warship building also resulted in a very lucrative series of contracts being awarded just prior to the outbreak of World War One. These included a second battleship, six destroyers and two submarines. The presence of a British Naval Advisory Mission in Valparaiso, which helped to establish the continent’s first Naval War College in 1911, played an influential role in the winning of this order. Unfortunately, the building programme was interrupted as a result of the war, as will be discussed later.

Conclusion It might be expected that a study of this kind which charts the role of the Royal Navy in support of UK diplomatic and commercial initiatives the middle years of the twentieth century would be a story of an unstoppable decline from a high point just prior to World War One. This was not the case. It has been shown that Britain did not achieve an automatic hegemony during the South American Dreadnought Race in the first decade of the century. Nor did the fact that Britain possessed the largest shipbuilding industry in the world and the world’s most powerful navy mean that had a monopoly in terms of forging sound and profitable naval relations with those smaller countries and their navies which were not considered to be natural allies. It is evident from the above that the process through which a navy supports foreign policy objectives in peacetime is a complex one and, to be successful, relies on the working of a number of interrelated factors. Earlier scholarship presented a fairly limited portrayal of naval tasks in situations short of war. ‘Gunboat diplomacy’ provided a useful, general description for operations which were, after all, extensions of a warship’s accustomed duties. More recent studies have attached greater importance to the role of naval diplomacy, thus presenting a more complex and less rigid concept of peacetime naval activities. However, even a carefully planned ‘pluralistic’ approach to the use of navies in support of foreign policy objectives can fail. To succeed, there has to be cooperation and a shared sense of purpose between government departments. Equally, there is a requirement for mutual trust between the provider and the client. Often these elements have been lacking. Likewise, the naval mission will not succeed if encumbered by political constraints or if the people chosen to lead it are ruled by personal agendas. Yet the pivotal role of the mission cannot

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 38

04/12/2013 08:14



Naval Involvement in Peacetime Foreign Relations

39

be underestimated as, along with the presence of the naval attaché, it helps to forge and to perpetuate the bond between the two parties. The liaison task of the naval attaché, often undertaken by an otherwise talented serving officer, requires quite different skills from his routine undertakings aboard ship or in a shore establishment, and appointments to such postings can be inappropriate. Finally, the naval visit, long considered only in very general terms as an exercise in ‘showing the flag’, is undoubtedly a potent diplomatic tool, to be planned carefully and, most importantly, to be exercised on a regular basis. The following chapters will show that, during the middle years of the twentieth century, both the Foreign Office and the Admiralty remained committed to a British naval presence in South America. The country’s economic influence in the region was declining steadily in the face of pressure from the US and there was a commensurate reduction in the requirement for the White Ensign to be seen regularly in remote seaports. However, rather than abandoning the region altogether, a Royal Navy presence continued to be perceived as an important adjunct to the promotion of British exports. As far as the Admiralty Staff was concerned, the opportunity for regular professional contact with various South American navies helped to maintain a valuable tradition. The ultimate aim, as far as the Navy was concerned, was not to promote fraternization and bonhomie among sailors, but rather to encourage naval export contracts which were considered vital if the home shipbuilders were to remain in a healthy condition and thus continue to serve the needs of the Royal Navy. Post-World War Two, the sale of second-hand warships was seen as an attractive alternative as they offered the additional benefits stemming from the requirement to support and refit these vessels throughout their service lives.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 39

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 40

04/12/2013 08:14

2

The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

It was in 1933 I started serving my time When work at Vickers was in decline Almirante Saldanha training ship filled a hole Of an order book with so many on the dole … Was built to replace the ageing Presidente Sarmiento A beautiful lofty rigged training ship in Rio The Brazilians wanted the best of both worlds She was armed to the teeth along with sails furled.

Alec Dancer’s account of life at Vickers-Armstrong graphically describes the precarious position of a young shipyard apprentice in the early 1930s in an isolated, one-industry town such as Barrow, in an occupation highly vulnerable to market forces. The verse above illustrates too the importance of the overseas order which ‘filled a hole’ and enabled Dancer and his fellow workers to avoid the ‘dole’. Indeed, after working on the Almirante Saldanha the young apprentice moved on to the RN cruiser HMS Ajax before being allocated to another vessel destined for a South American country, ARA La Argentina. Dancer’s experience was by no means unique but amply demonstrates why it was important that the Royal Navy should return to South American waters in 1927 after an absence of six years.1 Brazil was the only South American country to declare war on the Central Powers during World War One, when it renounced its neutrality on 1 June 1917. However, the struggle to maintain impartiality, for example after the German declaration of unrestricted submarine warfare, coupled with other aspects of the worldwide commercial impact of the conflict, adversely affected all the nations on the continent. Vitally, there was an acute shortage of merchant ships to transport the goods to market upon which the prosperity of these

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 41

04/12/2013 08:14

42

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

countries depended. By the same token, fewer imports inhibited manufacturing growth and highlighted the vulnerability of countries dependent on continuing European prosperity. Nevertheless, following the war, South America as a whole presented a potentially attractive and even settled export market for the United States and Britain. Glen Barclay argues that the major naval powers, Argentina, Brazil and Chile, all demonstrated at the time ‘constitutional stability and fidelity to democratic principles’. He adds that, ‘Moreover, the three nations had been independent for nearly 100 years; they had managed to live in peace with one another for nearly the whole of that period; and they possessed material resources which rendered them vital elements in the world economy.’ For example, by the end of the four-year conflict, the Argentine peso had become the strongest currency in the world and the country was ranked 10th both as a trading and as an exporting nation. William Glade states that Chile’s version of public economic direction, which he termed ‘developmental interventionism’, which affected such areas as banking, exchange controls and taxation, was the most advanced and progressive in Latin America.2 Despite this healthy description of commercial optimism, peaceful coexistence among the nations themselves, which might have led to greater economic prosperity for the masses at the expense of territorial rivalries and unnecessary expenditure on arms, proved illusory as many of the historic disputes and disagreements in fact remained unresolved. Some were more localized, while those involving the major nations, Argentina, Brazil, Chile and Peru, were deep seated. Tensions between the two largest nations, Argentina and Brazil, dating from the 1825–8 war, which even the artificial creation of Uruguay as a buffer state failed to defuse, were hardly improved by the ‘Dreadnought Race’ described earlier in this book. Argentina and Chile were also historically embroiled in territorial disputes over possession of parts of the Southern Andes and the waterways connecting the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans at the extreme south of the continent. During The War of the Pacific (1879–84) there were fears in Chile that Argentina would form an alliance with Bolivia and Peru. Although the ‘Pactos de Mayo’ of 1902 temporarily reduced the animosity between the two countries, the disagreements did not go away, and they re-emerged threequarters of a century later bringing the countries to the brink of outright war in 1978. The War of the Pacific was the outcome of more territorial claim and counter-claim between Chile and its northern neighbours Peru and Bolivia over control of part of the Atacama Desert where valuable nitrate and guano deposits

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 42

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

43

were located, a matter exacerbated by the vagueness of the existing international boundaries in that area. Although the ‘Treaty of Ancón’ of October 1883 brought peace to the west coast of the continent, and Chile gained control over the most valuable section of the nitrate holdings, this settlement was only intended as a temporary measure in advance of a plebiscite to determine permanent ownership. Nearly half a century later, in 1929, the ‘Tacna and Arica Treaty and Additional Protocol’ was ratified, but it did not serve to dispel the sense of mutual suspicion, particularly in terms of any naval expansion programmes subsequently instigated by either Peru or Chile.3 It has been argued that the decline in Britain’s prowess as a trading nation and a great empire gathered pace after the end of World War One, and that this trend was evident in matters pertinent to this study: in the country’s trading links with South America as well as in its ability to maintain the most powerful navy in the world. In turn it is claimed that this ‘downturn’ also affected industries in which Britain had dominated for a long time, such as shipbuilding. However, in each of the above examples, there is evidence to the contrary which suggest a period of re-adjustment rather than straightforward and outright loss of status.

Decline in British commercial involvement Following World War One there was concern expressed over the apparent decline in British commercial involvement in South America, a concern which appeared to be typified by the government’s decision to withdraw its warships from the region in 1921. Successive yearly Foreign Office ‘Confidential Reports’ by the various ambassadors working in the region pointed to an increasing United States economic presence and a willingness on the part of this increasingly powerful nation to extend its influence in other ways, such as in hemisphere defence. From a South American perspective, some writers have used the argument that Britain’s participation in World War One directly affected the process of change. For example, Joaquin Fermandois considers that the conflict hastened the process by which Britain’s economic leadership in Chile was replaced by that of the United States, not only in terms of trade but also with respect to finance and investment.4 Juan Couyoumdjian goes further by stating that Britain simply recognized South America as an area of US political influence and the implied economic advantages this situation could bring. Although it could

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 43

04/12/2013 08:14

44

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

not be assumed that Britain would automatically cease to be competitive, it would mean that a trade war could be avoided which might otherwise threaten Anglo-US political relations.5 Rory Miller states that the ‘bedrock’ of British international economic policy following the end of World War One was the re-establishment of the Gold Standard, which was not attained until 1925. Progress towards the achievement of this goal resulted in merchant banks being discouraged from issuing loans in the general cause of protecting sterling. Shortage of capital in the form of loans prevented British investment in South American public works projects. In contrast, the availability of such resources from New York-based banks meant that US firms started to monopolize civil engineering contracts. The restrictions on access to new loans affected other aspects of British trade, resulting in a fall in sales of traditional iron and steel products, machinery and transport equipment. The situation was made worse by the dollar–sterling exchange rate which made British prices uncompetitive. Hence exports never regained more than about four-fifths of their 1913 volume.6 Other historians have been more circumspect in their assessments. David Reynolds, discussing the state of the British economy as a whole following the end of World War One, cites not only the emergence of the USA as an equal power-base in terms of the world’s monetary system but also the appearance of new commercial rivals which had profited while Britain concentrated on its war effort. He further suggests that Britain demonstrated a new ‘reticence’ rather than ‘a wholesale retreat from world power’ following the Armistice, which might have been mistaken for signs of a decline.7 In Brian McKercher’s opinion, the notion that there was an outright shift in the balance of power from Britain to the United States in Latin America is misleading. He claims that, although the ‘economic determinist’ could present a persuasive, statistically based argument, the idea that pre-eminence is automatically equated with ‘a state being economically hegemonic’ is flawed. McKercher suggests that commercial competition and rivalry between the two powers persisted throughout the decade and concedes that the Americans gained advantages in Latin America at the expense of British interests, but importantly ‘this did not mean that Britain meekly succumbed’.8 However, as Miller suggests above, it is impossible to escape the fact that British business in South America did decline in sheer quantity during the post-war period. Jonathan Barton argues that it is insufficient simply to point to the effect of the world war, and the resulting financial drain on the country’s resources. In suggesting that the causes are more complex, Barton offers the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 44

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

45

comparison of Germany that, to the chagrin of many British businessmen in Chile, prospered by rapidly regaining a significant market share by the 1930s.9 Contrary to Couyoumdjian’s view, Barton claims that there was little evidence that the British business community ‘was prepared to surrender the market place’. He cites its longevity and its ‘social and cultural integration’ as significant factors. He identifies the causes as systemic as opposed to originating from the effects of a particular event such as a world war: Rather it was the structure of British trade, from trade policy to export promotion and financing, that created structural obstacles to the effectiveness of British traders in Latin America. It was these obstacles, rather than the temptations of empire, that would lead to the decline of British business in Chile and Latin America as a whole.10

The USA, on the other hand, through a concerted effort by government and traders alike, altered the balance of international commerce in the region. Unsurprisingly, in view of the disruption to normal trading, it had prospered to great effect during the war years. US exports to South America rose by 212 per cent between 1913 and 1919 compared to a fall of 60 per cent in British exports. Crucially, it was a gain that the USA was not prepared to concede in the post-war period.11 Many of the views expressed by contemporary British diplomats were permeated with anti-American rhetoric that can serve to distort the truth. This rhetoric often implied that the US usurpation of the British position was a great cause for shared regret. A report on Chile noted: ‘It is not unnatural that they (the Chileans in this instance) should view with sadness and indeed with dismay, the displacement by American capital and generally the decay of British commercial influence in this country.’12 The causes of this attitude were undoubtedly due in part to a sense of resentment at the loss of Britain’s pre-World War One economic dominance, and also reflected the confident manner in which the Americans conducted themselves. Both Brian McKercher and Anne Orde agree that those who advocated that Britain’s rightful position was to continue to adopt a ‘world leadership’ role dominated the foreign policy elite in the 1920s. Thus it seemed only natural to downplay the significance of, and indeed to challenge, the position of the USA on the world stage.13 But, as Miller points out, this was an era of change. Whereas before World War One the Foreign Office had held sway on negotiations and information regarding regions such as South America, the emergence of new government institutions such as the Petroleum Department

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 45

04/12/2013 08:14

46

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

and the Department of Overseas Trade, together with the need for the Treasury and the Bank of England to retain control over investment overseas in order to protect sterling, served to erode that monopoly.14

Decline in British naval power and its impact on shipbuilding Both links and comparisons have been made between Britain’s seemingly faltering commercial prowess and the apparent decline in the country’s status as the leading naval power after World War One. However, there is a division of opinion about the speed of change in the Royal Navy’s material strength in the interwar years. Historians writing in the period 1970–90 offered a particularly pessimistic description of the long-term consequences of cutbacks in spending on armaments in general during the 1920s and the effect on British firms dependent on a steady flow of orders.15 By contrast, more recent studies have shown that the proportionate amount spent by Britain on its navy in relation to other countries’ expenditure proved that it was still the major spender. It has also been pointed out that ‘like-for-like’ comparisons with the situation immediately prior to World War One can be both misleading and erroneous.16 John Ferris contends that during the period 1922–9 Britain ‘remained secure at sea and its maritime power was on the rise’. Crucially, however, the price for this security was complacency. By the end of the decade, with the world seemingly at peace, the Admiralty’s rearmament plan, due to be realized following the end of the Washington Treaty’s 10-year ‘building holiday’, enjoyed fewer supporters owing in part to the increasingly popular theory that ‘“liberal” means could solve international problems’.17 It was at this juncture that other major naval powers, such as Japan and the USA, commenced rearmament whereas Britain delayed its decision. Disagreements regarding the extent of political decision-making on the state of the Royal Navy in the years before the London Conference are not confined to numbers of capital ships or the size of the Navy in relation to other major powers. There are contrasting theories too about the impact on the shipbuilding industry which, as always, was shown to be vulnerable to changes in political and economic circumstances. Andrew Gordon argues that the ‘general health’ of the industry rested on a substantial and regular flow of orders from the Admiralty. However, the favoured cyclical pattern of naval and mercantile shipbuilding faltered when, after a mini boom in mercantile orders to replace war-losses, there was a sudden slump which coincided with the reductions caused by the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 46

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

47

signing of the Washington Naval Treaty. Thus a crisis occurred. Both Andrew Gordon and G. A. H. Gordon catalogue the effects of this ‘double-blow’ during the 1920s, particularly on the ‘mixed’ naval/mercantile shipbuilding yards.18 On the other hand, John Ferris argues that, throughout the 1920s, Britain spent more money on its armed forces in general than any other country, although he does concede that other states may not have been entirely honest in the release of the relevant statistics.19 Despite the need to keep such matters in perspective, there is consensus that by the end of the decade a number of naval shipyards within the industry were in a vulnerable position while giant and vital concerns such as Vickers were facing the possibility of having to curtail parts of their operations. The crisis forced the industry into action and resulted in a scheme, The National Shipbuilders Security (NSS), which was supported by 96 per cent of the industry. As a result, a quarter of a million tons of capacity in 37 yards was purchased and liquidated between 1930 and 1939. To this could be added a further 201 berths in obsolete yards which were simply put out of business by market forces during the 1920s. By 1929, as the situation reached crisis point, there were basically still too many shipyards chasing too little work. To this could be added a measure of dissension among the British policymaking elite over the need either to disarm or to re-arm.20 A key battleground between the Admiralty and the Treasury in the middle years of the 1920s involved the cruiser-building programme. Cruisers were large, expensive and sophisticated warships which took several years to build, and the Admiralty insisted that 70 were required for trade protection and to support the main battle fleet.21 In 1924 the Naval Staff set out a 10-year construction programme aimed at meeting this objective. It would mean vital work for the shipyards during the ‘lean’ years of the Washington Treaty restrictions. However, the plan was opposed by the new Chancellor of the Exchequer, Winston Churchill, and he chose to single out one of the key Admiralty justifications for the programme – the perceived future threat from Japan to Britain’s Far East interests. A compromise position was reached the following year. Although the Treasury was disappointed with the outcome, Christopher Bell points out that the ‘heavy-handed tactics’ employed by the service chiefs ‘alienated not only the Treasury but also many of the navy’s potential supporters’.22 In late 1927, at Churchill’s insistence, a Naval Programme Committee was formed which investigated the cruiser programme again. This time the Chancellor triumphed and two cruisers were dropped from the current year’s programme and one from the following year. According to Bell, the one area for concern for the Committee was the effect on the shipbuilding industry. The

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 47

04/12/2013 08:14

48

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Chairman, Lord Birkenhead, insisted that ‘Britain maintain its ability to build ships better and faster than its rivals in an emergency’. The fear that skilled workers would ‘“drift off elsewhere”’ was voiced by another member of the Committee.23 Thus both the Admiralty and the Treasury, from their different perspectives, recognized the importance of maintaining levels of employment within the British naval shipbuilding industry especially during the lean years of the second half of the 1920s. Particularly, there was acute concern felt by the Navy that the capacity and skills to produce high quality armour plate had to be maintained at all costs. To this end a subsidy was provided from the annual Navy Vote from 1920 onwards as a means of assisting the armament firms concerned through the period of low demand.24 Unusually, the ‘slump’ in orders impacted on both the naval and mercantile sectors of the shipbuilding industry at the same time in the 1920s. The outcome of the Washington Treaty merely added to the difficulties facing the ‘mixed’ building firms who were also affected by an over-inflated world mercantile capacity that followed the brief ‘boom’ period after World War One.25 The downturn remained a serious problem throughout the decade. For example, the Clyde firm of Scotts, a ‘mixed’ shipbuilding company, posted trading losses for nine successive years between 1925 and 1934. This was unsustainable in the long term. J. Samuel White and Company, which provided a vital source of employment on the Isle of Wight, only received its first post-war order from the Admiralty in 1930, being forced in the interim to keep its workers employed on contracts for steamers, tugboats and barges for use on the Great Lakes and craft for the Royal National Lifeboat Institution.26 The Quarterly Report for the shipbuilding division of Vickers-Armstrong at Barrow-in-Furness in June 1928 reveals the extent to which the industry had suffered over this long period. It claimed that all the leading companies were agreed that the sector was in its worst condition for over five years, with 53 per cent of shipbuilding berths in the country currently unoccupied. The latest Lloyds List returns had indicated a reduction of 238,000 tons in shipping in the last quarter, compared with the same quarter in 1927. Such reductions were bound to impact on the workforce, and the same company’s Quarterly Report for March 1929 gloomily stated that ‘Orders for new work are urgently required, and unless such are forthcoming the dismissal of a large number of men must take place in August. Competition for new work is still very acute.’27 In fact, unemployment in the industry reached 35 per cent in 1923 and had peaked at 37 per cent in 1926. The workforce was familiar with the ‘peaks and troughs’ of the trade and there was some temporary, related work to be found in

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 48

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

49

the local areas. However, as unemployment in the sector remained stubbornly high for the remainder of the decade, there was an increasing danger that the skills required for specialist warship construction would be lost as workers sought alternative employment elsewhere. The anxiety felt by the absence of work in the shipyards was expressed in the House of Commons in 1925, principally by members with vested constituency interests. This appeared to place responsibility squarely with the Admiralty. There were bleak prospects for the state-owned Royal Yards, which were unable to compete for outside contracts. Additionally, there was particular concern felt that a precedent had been set; that it was the first year ‘in living memory’ in which no provision had been made for giving new orders to private firms.28 In both cases, of course, the plight of the unemployed, and particularly the long-term effect on the morale of skilled workers, were of greatest concern. Perhaps the most severe setback came in January 1930. The London Naval Conference was convened that month, some six months after the Labour Government under Ramsey MacDonald won the general election. At the conference the Prime Minister made an unexpected volte-face regarding the resumption of capital ship construction that dismayed the Admiralty, as MacDonald hitherto had been supportive of such a move. The decision alarmed the British naval shipbuilding industry. In Christopher Bell’s words: The earlier restrictions imposed by the Washington Treaty and the reluctance of the governments of the 1920s to construct auxiliary warships had devastated the naval arms industry in Britain even before the London Conference opened. The decision not to resume capital-ship construction after 1931 would result in the further decline of Britain’s industrial capacity for building warships.29

Building warships for foreign navies Unfortunately, business emanating from foreign orders, traditionally an important source of work for shipbuilding concerns and armament manufacturers alike, was also failing to prove productive. Although successive governments in the 1920s had enabled firms to raise capital to cover the initial costs of executing large overseas contracts and, in approved cases, even arranged credit terms for buyers unable to bear the entire cost in one payment, such largesse did not extend to arms sales. The necessary support for extended credit terms, which

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 49

04/12/2013 08:14

50

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

all the South American countries required for expensive naval purchases, was precluded under the terms of the Trade Facilities Act of 1921. As a result of this legislation British shipbuilders were at a disadvantage in relation to foreign competition for export orders. A letter from VickersArmstrong to the Treasury in January 1930 provided examples of what the company perceived as ‘unfair competition’ in recent years on the part of Italian firms. An order for destroyers and submarines for the Turkish Navy, valued at £1.5 million, had been recently lost. Vickers-Armstrong contended that they had placed a superior bid in terms of the quality of materials, the guaranteed delivery date of the order and the price. However, the company had been unable to match the Italian offer of 90 per cent credit terms. Similarly, an order for destroyers for the Greek Navy worth £750,000 had also been lost, again to the Italians, as 85 per cent credit terms were agreed, this time to be spread over eight years.30 These revelations prompted a debate over the next year involving the major shipbuilders, the Treasury, the Board of Overseas Trade and the Admiralty regarding the way forward if the British Government was to support the export of warships at this critical time for the industry. Further calculations regarding the relative value of naval contracts received from British and foreign governments during the previous five years revealed a ratio of value of 3:1 in favour of Admiralty orders. Most worryingly, the value of these orders for the Royal Navy had shown a year-on-year decline from £4,990,118 in 1925 to just £2,411,669 in 1929.31 Later that same year, the Admiralty’s concerns were expressed in the form of a detailed memorandum by the First Lord, entitled ‘Foreign Orders for British Warship Builders and Armament Firms’, which was addressed to the Cabinet Export of Warships and War Material Committee. As well as criticising previous legislation as expressly addressing the needs of the export market for other than war materials, A. V. Alexander drew attention to the Cabinet decision of October 1929 which stipulated that surplus government armament could not be disposed of to private firms for re-sale to foreign governments. He cited as an example negotiations with the Chinese Government which had been inhibited by the above legislation that had included the purchase of ship-borne antiaircraft guns. It was feared that British shipbuilders would, as a consequence, fail to secure an important order for a large cruiser, despite the best efforts of Vickers-Armstrong’s representatives and the presence in China of the British naval mission. The First Lord’s report included a table detailing ‘Prospective and Projected (Naval) Programmes of Various Foreign Powers’. This listed 20

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 50

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

51

countries, of which the Admiralty identified seven as ‘potential customers’, including Argentina, China, Chile, Poland, Portugal, Spain and Uruguay. In this instance only Portugal placed orders in British yards. This was followed, much later in the decade, by Argentina and Poland.32 Although other European countries, such as France, had been successful in securing foreign orders at this time, almost all the opprobrium was directed at Italy. Amongst other measures, it was known that Italian law provided for the payment of subsidies for the construction of merchant ships, that there was an official scheme for underwriting export credit risks, that the Italian Government guaranteed shipyards against penalties resulting from strike action and, in specific cases, would intervene with direct subsidies or guarantees in order to secure individual orders. It was suspected that subsidies were being handed out secretly by the Italian authorities in the form of remission of taxation by falsely inflating the price of vessels built simultaneously for the Regia Marina, or being gained by making good losses incurred by Italian firms tendering below cost price.33 In the face of this competition, the British position appeared hopeless at a time when the disarmament lobby was gaining popularity. A Board of Trade memorandum noted: Apart from the fact that it would involve legislation to modify the Exports Credit Scheme (to include war materials) it would place His Majesty’s Government in an almost untenable position as regards their policy of limitation of armaments. His Majesty’s Government are at present in the forefront of the struggle to secure world-wide limitation and reduction of armaments, and it would be totally inconsistent with their principles and their policy to promote legislation permitting them to extend credit facilities to the export of arms.34

Although it was suggested that banks could be persuaded to support shipbuilders, particularly in affording the initial outlay of money to launch a building project, it was conceded that there was little chance of success. There had always been objections to giving credit in the case of warship construction because, in the event of an unexpected setback, a warship was not considered to be a marketable security. A glimmer of hope for a solution to the problem was presented in the case of Portugal. By 1931, details of a considerable naval order were beginning to emerge with every hope that a group of British companies involved, VickersArmstrong, Hawthorn Leslie, Thornycroft and Yarrow, would be successful. The consortium approach, within the context of an overcrowded market, was seen

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 51

04/12/2013 08:14

52

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

as an attractive alternative, although it meant that previously rival organizations would have to cooperate in tendering, sharing both the work and the credit risks fairly by pooling resources. The arrangement proved highly successful in this case; the four yards concerned shared the construction of 11 vessels over the next six years.35 The impact of the Washington Treaty on the Royal Navy’s principal warship building programmes tended to divert the Admiralty’s attention away from the significance of the foreign export market. However, from the middle of the decade onwards, in identifying the serious consequences that would stem from the closure of naval shipbuilding companies, the Naval Staff sought ways to make the placing of orders in British yards more attractive to prospective foreign buyers, principally to preserve the home industry in preparation for the period of rearmament which would undoubtedly follow at some future date. It was acknowledged that the impression given abroad was that the Royal Navy was actively seeking to protect its latest warship designs within ‘a web of secrecy’, in contrast to other major navies who were prepared to be far more open in their approach. It would seem that the Admiralty had yet to adjust to peacetime conditions. It was recognized that a comparatively relaxed attitude towards foreign interest had been adopted in the years leading up to 1914, for example in the matter of access to detailed design drawings. Such openness was now lacking, having been eradicated by the effect of World War One.36 In February 1925 a meeting was convened between the Third Sea Lord and the Assistant Chief of Naval Staff to discuss ways to resolve the matter. It was agreed that the Admiralty had a duty to assist in every way it could in order to help alleviate unemployment and to keep productive plant in existence. As a result of this meeting a Foreign Office communication, couched in quite forthright terms, instructed the diplomatic representatives to ‘take all practicable steps to dispel the present erroneous impression … that the Admiralty impose more stringent restrictions on British firms in regard to secrecy of designs than they did before the war.’37 Although increasing the likelihood of acquiring naval shipbuilding contracts through supporting trade was another attractive proposition, the practicalities of such a commitment were not straightforward. It was considered that a visit by a squadron of ships, led by a senior officer such as a foreign station C-in-C, would make the greatest impact. However, the length of time needed to undertake such a deployment, the disruption to the training programme and the sheer cost, estimated as £36,500 for a flotilla of destroyers, were perceived as major obstacles.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 52

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

53

Attracting South American custom The above debate led to a full-scale Admiralty conference on the subject in February 1927. The report that followed the meeting provided unequivocal evidence of the commitment shown by the Admiralty to the notion that naval exports and commerce in general could be ‘stimulated’ through regular visits by HM ships. Significantly, it was considered that cruises to North American and Canadian ports were of little potential value compared with their South American counterparts, ‘where all the important commercial centres are adjacent to the coast, and where there are considerable colonies of isolated Englishmen’. In what must have been perceived by some as a radical and risky move, the conference recommended that gunnery training programmes should be curtailed in order to allow the station vessels to complete their programmes of visits.38 Whilst there was unanimous support for the above measures, would they be enough to impress a potential South American client to buy a British warship? The conference was informed about the rumoured future South American deployment by a French squadron which was expected to comprise three of its latest cruisers, some flotilla leaders and submarines. The US Navy, meanwhile, had already demonstrated its technological prowess by displaying aircraft catapults aboard some of its warships. Was it possible to organize a similar series of visits in order to ‘showcase’ the latest British designs? Once again, cost was a mitigating factor. In the outcome, there was agreement that two destroyers of a completely new design, which were required to undertake a 5,000-mile endurance test as part of their first-of-class trials schedule, would be a sensible choice, as it would not interfere with essential training. What is noticeable about the report on the February 1927 conference is that the vast majority of the discussions related to South America. Clearly, in comparison with the rest of the world, this region was considered to be the most attractive target market. Interestingly, Admiral Fisher, who had proved to be such an influential figure in the move to revive the fortunes of British naval exports, now found himself isolated among the Admiralty Staff by remaining an advocate of the special visit, even if its effects would not be immediately apparent. The impact of a large, modern and prestigious warship, with a dignitary or a very senior naval officer on board, was still considered to have a cachet, particularly in a region such as South America. Indeed, Fisher’s view was endorsed, at least in part, by Commander Jackson, writing as Head of the Royal Naval Advisory Staff in Chile in November 1927:

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 53

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

54

I understand that the ‘CUMBERLAND’ [the latest RN 8-inch gun cruiser, completed in January 1928] may be coming here on her way to China, this would be an excellent move on our part as we badly need propaganda at the moment out here. I think it is impossible to exaggerate the effect of a visit of this sort, a visit from a ‘C’ or ‘D’ class cruiser after the ‘EMDEN’ [the first of a new generation of post-war German cruisers, completed in 1925] would be of little value.39

However, despite the important concessions being made, which amounted to a reduction in time to be spent on training in order to ensure the all-important ‘presence’ of the Royal Navy in South America, it was not enough at the time immediately to convince other government departments that the 1921 decision to withdraw the Royal Navy from the area should be rescinded.

Competition from the United States There can be little doubt that the success of British naval exports to South America immediately prior to World War One had been instrumental in the revival of interest in the region in the mid-1920s, when the need to sell warships abroad was again acknowledged to be a priority. However, for a variety of reasons, Britain’s renewed attention shown to the continent as a whole did not automatically produce the desired response from the major naval powers in the region. One obvious obstacle that presented itself was that, in the intervening war years when attention had been diverted elsewhere, circumstances and attitudes had simply altered. This was certainly the case with Brazil. Joseph Smith states that, prior to the outbreak of World War One, European and particularly British influence in that country was strong. In broad terms the Brazilians were in admiration of European culture and actively sought to import both goods and capital from that continent. It was therefore unsurprising that, when the Brazilian Government in 1910 took the decision to request foreign assistance in reorganizing its navy, only Britain and Germany were considered as likely to provide a mission of the necessary quality.40 However, in April 1914, in the first practical step taken towards executing the naval modernization plan, the Brazilian Minister of Marine asked for two US Navy instructors to be appointed to the recently formed Naval War College. Although there were delays in sending these officers, this initial liaison proved

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 54

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

55

successful. Three years later, when the possibility of reviving the 1910 plan to appoint a full naval mission was resurrected, Washington was ready to respond and five US officers were sent to Rio de Janeiro in 1918 to teach at the War College and to act as fire control instructors.41 Although, due to the war, RN officers had been unavailable at the time to compete for these appointments, there were other factors involved that made the Brazilian Government more receptive to US advances. Firstly, World War One had provided opportunities for the United States to disrupt the continuity of trade with Europe and to make inroads with regard to commerce and investment. Relations with Britain had been soured by decisions taken in London – for example, to limit coffee imports to Europe in 1917 owing to the shortage of shipping and then to blacklist certain export goods because of the Germanic-sounding names of some of their executives.42 Thus, Brazil was ideally placed to be receptive to friendly advances made by the USA. These included diplomatic efforts orchestrated in Washington to encourage South American nations to support US policy towards Germany. Second, shortly after the United States declared war against Germany in April 1917, it despatched a powerful squadron of armoured cruisers under the command of Admiral William Caperton to patrol the waters off the eastern littoral of South America, from Natal in the north to the River Plate estuary in the south. Clearly both the US Government, and Admiral Caperton in particular, perceived this mission as incorporating a diplomatic offensive in addition to its main task of forming part of an allied patrol line. Caperton’s four cruisers received a rapturous reception during their initial visit to Brazil, which was to be the squadron’s base. However, the mood in Rio had less to do with the progress of the war and more with the Brazilian perception that the presence of the Americans was a signal of its support against the ever-present threat to its security from neighbouring Argentina. David Healey states that, by the time the squadron left the country, the Brazilian Government was, short of declaring outright war, offering full cooperation regarding the defence of its territorial waters in the face of German aggression. More importantly, Caperton’s diplomatic mission was serving to strengthen the US position in relation to that of Britain.43 The US cruisers received a mixed reception elsewhere on the eastern seaboard of South America. The Uruguayan Government, also reassured by the promise of US support over any threat from Argentina, received Caperton enthusiastically and subsequently broke off diplomatic relations with Berlin. On the other hand a more circumspect mood was encountered in Buenos Aires

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 55

04/12/2013 08:14

56

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

where, after much indecision, Argentina’s strong ties with Germany prevented that country from renouncing neutrality as well. By the beginning of 1918, concern that influence in Brazil was being eroded prompted the despatch of a British trade mission. It was also proposed that the South Americans should send a patrol force to European waters in order to operate with the allied navies, a move which would have greatly strengthened Anglo-Brazilian naval relations by bringing the warships under RN operational control. Two cruisers and four destroyers were selected, but the voyage across the Atlantic proved disastrous due to breakdowns and subsequent delays. This served to underline the extremely poor material state of the Brazilian naval forces as well as the lack of basic seamanship skills among its personnel. However, in January 1918 a key appointment had resulted in a pro-US Brazilian officer, Vice-Admiral Martins, being given the post of Chief of Staff. As a result of the debacle over the European deployment, he requested American advisers to examine the fire control apparatus currently in use in his navy, particularly aboard the two Brazilian battleships. The Minas Gerais and São Paulo were found to be in a very poor condition. Astonishingly their main armament had never been calibrated or fired in target practice since delivery from the builders eight years previously. As a result, the São Paulo was sent to New York for an extensive two-year refit, followed by her sister ship. This decision proved decisive in terms of greatly improving US–Brazilian naval relations and a contract for a large-scale US naval mission consisting of no fewer than 35 personnel was announced in Rio in July 1922. The news was received with dismay in London. In what was described by the The Times as ‘a historical watershed’ there was recognition that the US had forced itself into a favourable position with the Brazilian Government by being attendant to its needs. By comparison Britain, distracted by other events, had been, as Joseph Smith suggests, complacent – even defeatist – in approach. There is evidence to suggest that the steps taken later in the interwar period by the British in ‘courting’ the South American navies demonstrated that lessons had been learned from the Brazilian experience.44 It might have been expected that the US would capitalize on its successful usurpation of the British position by establishing a permanent or semipermanent presence in South American waters. This was not the case. Shortly after Admiral Caperton returned to Washington in 1919, he submitted a paper to the Office of Naval Operations entitled ‘The Diplomatic Mission of the Navy’. In this significant document Caperton describes very clearly the value of naval vessels in relation to foreign policy objectives. He suggests that a visit by a

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 56

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

57

squadron of warships to an overseas port constituted ‘in the best sense of the word, national advertising’. In the admiral’s opinion, the future Pan-American promotion of the Monroe Doctrine would depend on the efforts made to maintain friendly relations with each of the diverse Latin American countries at a time when the development of foreign trade was becoming vital to the future prosperity of the nation. Central to Caperton’s ‘diplomatic mission’ proposal was the establishment of no fewer than six permanent overseas squadrons that would cover both seaboards of the Americas as well as Europe and Asia. So as not to appear to contradict the fundamental doctrines of the Mahanian concept of sea control based on the ‘Battle fleet’ to which the United States Navy adhered, he envisaged the overseas squadrons as comprising additional peacetime forces.45 Caperton’s proposals were comprehensively rejected in a memorandum to the Chief of Naval Operations by the US Navy’s Planning Committee. This document reiterated that the primary mission of the navy was to prepare for war. To that end, all efforts and resources should be directed towards the maintenance of the Battle fleet and its fighting efficiency. Therefore, no additional resources should be allocated to Caperton’s overseas squadrons; rather, ‘vessels of little or no military value should be reduced to a minimum’. In the Committee’s opinion, the diplomatic mission could best be accomplished through visits made by ‘divisions or individual vessels of the Battle fleet’ as long as such detachments were ‘without detriment to fleet efficiency’. In a telling passage, the members of the Planning Committee were of the opinion that, ‘While the presence of our men of war in foreign ports may have a slight effect in promoting trade, this is primarily a task for our commercial and banking interests.’46 The scepticism expressed here about the value of naval visits in relation to the promotion of commerce, as well as the requirement to concentrate the navy’s efforts entirely on preparation for war, serves to explain why in the interwar period the US Navy did not despatch its warships to the region more frequently. The connection between a naval presence and possible contracts for naval exports was not considered worthwhile in the face of the additional expense involved in maintaining overseas squadrons. The same misgivings expressed above regarding the diplomatic and commercial value which could be attached to a navy’s contribution to foreign policy objectives, especially when quantifiable evidence was demanded, were shared by government departments in London. Likewise, the basic tenet expressed by the US Naval Planning Committee that the central focus of naval forces in peacetime should be preparation for war would have been recognized and shared by most Royal Navy officers at the time.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 57

04/12/2013 08:14

58

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

The US naval mission in Brazil was to remain in place throughout the 1920s. Smith notes that, although the technical skills of the naval personnel were thought to have improved in the interim, by the end of the decade it was doubted whether the Brazilian Government was receiving value for money from the presence of the Americans.47 This view was supported by Captain W. Tait, who, during the course of HMS Delhi’s deployment to the eastern seaboard of South America in 1930, was requested by naval intelligence to compile a report on the current state of the Brazilian Navy, which is discussed in more detail in Chapter 4. Tait discerned a culture of indifference among Brazilian naval personnel that meant, for example, that the US naval advisers found it difficult to inspire and motivate with respect to the introduction of new tactics at sea.48 One conclusion to draw from this observation is that the impetus from Washington regarding the true value and significance of the mission to American foreign policy was missing. Admiral Caperton, in a letter to the US Navy Department in 1919, claimed that his diplomatic success with the Brazilian Government had been instrumental in the Peruvians requesting a similar arrangement for a naval commission to be sent to Lima. It helped that the Peruvian President Leguía y Salcedo was a keen admirer of North American technology. Five US Navy officers duly arrived in the country in September 1920; their brief was to cover naval education and the testing of equipment, the supervision of ship repair and the direction of base construction. Similar to the situation in Brazil, the US mission found the Peruvian Navy to be in a poor material state. Most of the naval vessels were old and there was low morale among personnel. As noted earlier, the Peruvian Navy had been under French influence prior to World War One. This had dated from 1905 when Commander Paúl de Marguerye was appointed director of the Naval Academy. By 1908 his duties had expanded to include not only structural reorganization but also command of the seagoing squadron itself. In 1912 the mission consisted of three French naval officers. Despite improvements made in terms of officer training, the Peruvian fleet remained considerably inferior to that of neighbouring Chile, its principal rival. The only modern vessels were two Almirante Grau Class light cruisers which had been built by Vickers at Barrow and which entered service in 1906–7. As a result of the French influence, two submarines were also built by Schneider-Creusot prior to World War One and transported to Peru together with a second-hand ex-French Navy destroyer. However, further negotiations this time to purchase an ageing French armoured cruiser in 1912 caused a major disagreement between the two countries which was to lead to the cessation of the French Naval Mission just prior to start of World War One.49

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 58

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

59

Chilean support Thus, in the case of both Brazil and Peru, the USA was in a position in the early 1920s to assert a significant influence over the future of two major South American navies with the long-term possibility of their warships contributing to some kind of Pan-American defence force. Owing to a reluctance on the part of the US Government to exploit this position beyond the engagement of successive missions, naval liaison was limited to an advisory role regarding training. This arrangement remained in place for most of the interwar years. One reason given as to why the Peruvian Government looked successively to France and then the United States rather than to Britain as the provider nation was the continuing Anglo-Chilean partnership which, in contrast to the AngloBrazilian naval cooperation, remained secure despite the interruptions to the delivery of warships caused by the war. The major Chilean naval building programme of 1910, Plan Centenario, described here in Chapter 1, which was to be delivered entirely by British companies, was mostly incomplete by 1914. Only two out of six destroyer leaders had been handed over the previous year; the remaining four were commandeered for service in the Royal Navy.50 After initial delays caused by a shortage of steel, the battleship Almirante Cochrane was laid down at Elswick in February 1913, but work on the ship ceased in August 1914, by which time the hull and machinery were nearly complete and the boilers were on board. At the outset of war, both this vessel and the second battleship under construction, Almirante Latorre, were purchased by the British Government with a pledge that they would be returned to the Chilean Navy at the end of hostilities. However, Almirante Cochrane’s guns and mountings were subsequently diverted to other building projects and it became clear as the war drew to a close that the ship could not be completed without considerable additional expense. In January 1918 it was decided to retain the vessel for conversion into an aircraft carrier; the former battleship was renamed HMS Eagle in March of that year. The Almirante Latorre had been laid down a year earlier in May 1912 and, following its acquisition, work on the ship was resumed in September 1914. Renamed HMS Canada, the ship joined the Grand Fleet in October 1915 and took part in the Battle of Jutland in May 1916 as a member of the 4th Battle Squadron. Following a refit at Devonport at the end of the war, HMS Canada was re-sold to Chile for £1,000,000 which constituted less than half of the initial construction cost. The ship then reverted to its original name.51

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 59

04/12/2013 08:14

60

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

It was important for Britain to demonstrate fairness regarding the other vessels it had commandeered at the start of the war and the two submarines Chile had additionally ordered in 1914. Five submarines were ceded to Chile in 1917 and some 50 naval aircraft were gifted the following year. Chile paid for an additional submarine of the H Class to be built. According to Carlos Tromben, the eventual outcome of Plan Centenario was fair. Indeed, politicians in Santiago might be blamed for delaying the authorization of the contracts with the British companies involved and the necessary signatures while the situation in Europe was deteriorating. The delays and in some cases the non-delivery of warships were due to force majeure, and adequately compensated. Although the Chilean Navy never received Almirante Cochrane, the modernization of her sister ship Almirante Latorre in Devonport Dockyard later in the decade, together with further warships and submarines purchased from Britain in the period 1926–8, produced a more balanced and up-to-date fleet than had been envisaged in Plan Centenario.52 It was perhaps fortunate that Anglo-Chilean naval relations were intact following the war. Chile, with a small navy to police its vast littoral and numerous islands, struggled to maintain a viable neutral status while at the same time not upsetting its powerful European trading partners Britain and Germany. Both took advantage of the situation by violating territorial rights and by flouting regulations about the duration and frequency of port visits to replenish coal stocks. The search for and eventual scuttling of the German cruiser SMS Dresden at Juan Fernandez Island in 1915 was one example of all three countries, one way or another, being culpable of contravening neutrality laws. Chile’s attempts to negotiate with the Germans for the use of its interned merchant ships were unsuccessful, which severely affected trade. Ironically, the severe disruption to the supply of Chilean nitrate to Germany, both by the shortage of shipping and the British blockade, resulted in the development of a synthetic alternative which in turn precipitated the post-war collapse of the industry.

Argentina’s independent approach With respect to the last of the major South American naval powers, opinion is divided regarding the extent to which Argentina traditionally has been receptive to outside influences on its navy. Adrian English is unequivocal in stating that,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 60

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

61

while the French were responsible for shaping the Argentine army, its navy was modelled on the Royal Navy. Varun Sahni, on the other hand, argues that the Argentines derived their naval regulations from Spain and their strategy from France. He proceeds further to demolish English’s argument by giving examples of US and Japanese influences, with the works of the British writer on naval strategy Julian Corbett providing a minor contribution only to doctrine. During World War One, a small number of Argentine officers were sent to the USA and Britain. Five served in the United States fleet during 1917–18, and post-war a small contingent of US naval officers instructed cadets at the Argentine Naval Academy. Although in terms of numbers Britain had historically built the majority of Argentina’s warships, Sahni remarks that most of these were smaller vessels and therefore, in terms of influence, Britain could not be considered superior either to Italy or to the United States which were responsible for the construction of Argentina’s major naval vessels from the turn of the twentieth century until the mid-1930s.53 Therefore, although Anglo-Argentine commercial links were sound at the start of the 1920s, and professionally the Argentine Navy maintained a long-held respect for the Royal Navy, it would have been impossible to predict whether or not these factors would lead to a closer naval alliance and possible future orders for warships. Why did Argentina not seek to ally itself with a particular major naval power, as in the case of the other South American republics? Perhaps one answer lies in Carlos Escudé’s study of Argentina’s culture of territorial nationalism. Although the writer does not claim that intense nationalistic fervour is exclusively an Argentine phenomenon, he suggests that this factor lies behind what he describes as ‘the traditional arrogance of her foreign policy … which is rooted in Argentine culture: I am referring to a national superiority culture.’54

The battle to bring the RN back to South America In 1921, at the instigation of the Cabinet Finance Committee, it had been decided to withdraw Royal Navy cruisers from South American waters as a cost-cutting measure. Additionally, the two British Naval Attachés based in South America were to be recalled. Royal Navy presence on the continental littoral would in future be limited to occasional goodwill visits by its warships. The estimate given in Parliament of the annual savings amounted to £775,000.55 Over the following six years the Admiralty waged a campaign to have this decision rescinded, during which time it received intermittent but generally

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 61

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

62

only moderate support from the Foreign Office and the Board of Trade, and a negative response from the Treasury. Importantly, the Naval Staff began to justify its case increasingly on the grounds that a continuous naval presence in South American waters would result in export orders for the home shipyards. Initial objections to the decision to abandon a presence in South American waters were voiced principally by the Admiralty, which sought backing from the Foreign Office. Lord Curzon, the Foreign Secretary, ultimately afforded only tacit support despite earlier making a strong case in favour of retaining British warships in the region.56 This debate slightly pre-dated the more widely known recommendations of the Geddes Committee which presented its first interim report to the Chancellor at the end of 1921. One argument forwarded to explain why the Naval Staff decided not contest the decision further is that the RN, under instructions from the Exchequer to make ‘“a searching examination of current expenditure”’, would have found the abandonment of South America more attractive than less desirous measures in other areas of its budget.57 Christopher Bell suggests that the Navy, suffering from various cutbacks at the time, ‘was not prepared to put up more than a token fight over what it regarded as a secondary issue’, and the matter was not pursued further at the time.58 Examination of the internal reaction within the Admiralty regarding the withdrawal of the South American Squadron suggests a mood of resignation regarding post-war relations with three of the four major powers, Chile being the exception. A DNI minute in May 1921 summed up the likelihood of the RN exerting an influence in the face of US penetration: USA (naval) influence in Argentina, Peru and Brazil is already paramount, and with United States Naval Missions now established in the two latter republics, and Argentine naval officers under frequent training in the USA, it is highly improbable that we could gain a foothold in the navies of any of these three republics.59

Eighteen months later the effects of the decision to withdraw not only the squadron but also the Naval Attaché and the Senior Intelligence Officer (publicly referred to as the ‘Assistant Naval Attaché’) were considered too drastic. The DNI minuted that ‘complete withdrawal has resulted in a most damaging effect on naval influence with its consequent reaction on British prestige and influence.’ The recent success of the North Americans in establishing a mission in Rio de Janeiro no doubt prompted the DNI to call for the immediate re-appointment of a resident naval attaché in South America and efforts to place a mission in Argentina in order to offset the increasing

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 62

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

63

US influence. The central concern was the loss of what was described as naval ‘position and prestige’. The DNI thought it ‘most undesirable that the US should be allowed to “Americanize” the South American Navies’.60 The anti-US rhetoric expressed here points to the naval rivalry between Britain and the USA that had been simmering since before the end of World War One. Stephen Roskill claims that both the Admiralty and the US Navy Board were determined at the time not to cede any kind of advantage to the other side. The unwillingness of the Admiralty to accept the prospect of equality in strength with the United States Navy extended to the expectation that its warships would continue to be despatched to all parts of the world.61 Despite the strongly held views of the Naval Staff, it was realized that financial constraints in the current fiscal year precluded the possibility of reinstating the squadron. The only action taken was to obtain Foreign Office and Treasury agreement in early 1923 to appoint a naval attaché to South America at the expense of the one stationed in The Hague. The Netherlands had recently withdrawn their attaché from London as an economy measure. The debate was revived in the autumn of 1924. On this occasion, the ensuing internal discussion within the Admiralty hinged on the use of warships currently attached to the Atlantic or Mediterranean Fleets for cruises to South American waters, perhaps once every two years. Objections included the resulting interference to training schedules should the ships be absent from their stations for up to three months at a time, together with the considerable cost of fuel that would be required to despatch a squadron on what amounted to a 12,000-mile deployment. It was agreed that the arrival of a number of the most up-to-date RN warships would ‘impress the South Americans the most’.62 The weight of argument against the proposal to use warships from other commands to visit the region on an intermittent basis resulted in a Board of Admiralty Minute dated 4 December 1924, formally endorsing the Admiralty’s proposal for the reintroduction of a South American Squadron. However, the plan again received only lukewarm support from the Foreign Office and also from the Board of Trade. Austen Chamberlain, the Foreign Secretary, after initially appearing to endorse the Admiralty proposal, commented, ‘but I should like to make it clear that I do consider that we should not go outside the estimates for these ships, which I feel can well be provided from your existing resources’. The President of the Board of Trade was less inclined to be supportive: ‘… whether I would rather have the ship or ships, or the equivalent economy to assist in the reduction of taxation, I should certainly plump for the economy.’63

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 63

04/12/2013 08:14

64

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

What appears to be a key ‘tipping point’ for action to reinstate a regular Royal Navy presence came from Buenos Aires. In August 1927 the British Ambassador, Malcolm Robertson, a diplomat with lengthy experience in South America stretching back to the period before World War One, wrote to both the Foreign Secretary and to Lord Beatty, the First Sea Lord. He argued for a cruiser to be stationed permanently on the east coast of South America and for an increase in the number of naval attachés. In his letter to Austen Chamberlain, Robertson presented two forceful arguments. First, during World War One the commanding officer and crew of the cruiser HMS Glasgow had become friendly with and popular in various seaports along the eastern coast of Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay. The knowledge gained had been of inestimable value to the British force sent to hunt down the German East-Asiatic Fleet prior to the Battle of the Falklands in December 1914. He added that the British presence also had served to counteract the negative effect on the vital south-east America trade route caused by the German cruiser SMS Karlsruhe. Robertson’s second point refers to the absence of professional advice, which, he suggested, had caused Britain to lose a large Argentine order worth £15 million for warships and submarines the previous year. Although he had been instructed to make every effort to obtain the orders for Britain, the lack of a cruiser on the coast to lend support when needed, let alone the absence of a naval attaché (compared with two US attachés, one in Buenos Aires and one in Santiago), had placed him at a distinct disadvantage with both the Argentine Minister of Marine and various Argentine senior naval officers. Perhaps predictably, the Ambassador’s letter to the First Sea Lord was more emotive and at times even bellicose in tone. There were references made to the need to ‘recapture lost ground in South American markets’ and the fact that ‘the white ensign … [the] symbol of our greatness’ needed to be permanently in evidence on the South American littoral. He ends his letter: ‘Even as regards Brazil, their British built battleships were overhauled (most unsatisfactorily) in United States Naval yards. It is humiliating!’64 The implications behind Robertson’s letters were twofold. First, there was the simplistic-sounding inference that all Britain needed to do was to re-establish its rightful position as the dominant world economic power in this distant part of the world, remote even from its own empire, and all would be well. The necessary task of ‘recapturing lost ground’ could be accomplished by the local British business community, as long as there was the necessary support from government. Second, the supporting role of the Royal Navy was perceived as crucial. However, Robertson argued, the true ‘prestige’ value of the White

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 64

04/12/2013 08:14



The Case for a Royal Navy Presence in South America in the 1920s

65

Ensign could only be effective if the flag was flown ‘by ships actually operating on a station rather than by those paying occasional visits’.65 This plea by a senior and experienced diplomat had the desired effect. The response saw the North America and West Indies Squadron renamed the America and West Indies (A&WI) Squadron and its territorial limits extended to include South America. It was admitted at this juncture that the reason why the Admiralty had not pressed even harder for the reinstatement of the squadron was the additional cost of providing the extra ships. The saving to the naval budget since the abolition of the South American Squadron in 1921 had amounted to over £4 million. Nevertheless it was claimed that the Admiralty Board had ‘never lost sight of the importance of keeping the Royal Navy well before the eyes of the South American nations’. In a significant departure from the familiar ‘mantra’ that the Navy’s primary task was to prepare for war, the relevant Standing Orders given to the local C-in-C were to emphasize that the central task of his squadron was to show the flag in South American waters at the expense of what were described as less important exercises. In order to facilitate this expanded brief, one cruiser was to be redeployed from the Mediterranean Fleet without replacement. This would enable two cruisers to be available for a total of nine months of the year to form a subdivision of the A&WI squadron. There would be no senior officer appointed to command the subdivision. The resulting slight increase in administrative tasks resulted in an additional cost of £3,000 per annum.66

Conclusion The early interwar period has frequently been cited as marking the commencement of a concurrent decline of British commercial influence abroad and of its navy. South America has provided a good example to support this argument. However, as has been shown, the nature and the extent of any decline are open to interpretation. Nevertheless, it is generally recognized that the impact the Washington Naval Treaty coupled with the cyclical nature of the key British shipbuilding industry during this period was of mounting concern both to the government of the day and the Royal Navy. The response of the Admiralty Staff was proactive as ways were sought to improve such matters as accessibility to British naval designs and training opportunities in order to improve access for potential foreign customers interested in having naval ships built in UK shipyards. Competition in this sector

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 65

04/12/2013 08:14

66

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

was frequently perceived as unfair owing to the generous subsidies being provided to private companies by other European Governments, particularly that of Italy. The RN’s hopes that many of its traditionally close links with various South American navies would result in orders for warships were thwarted for two reasons. First, the interruption of peacetime routines caused by World War One resulted in a re-alignment of sympathies, which meant that in the 1920s Chile alone among the major naval powers on the continent could be confidently relied upon to be a ‘client’ in terms of support and influence. Second, when the British Government decided to withdraw the entire British naval presence from South America in 1921, it took six years to reverse the decision. The problem of persuading doubters that there was a direct correlation between naval presence in an area such as South America and commercial gain including the winning of naval export orders remained, even after the reinstatement of the A&WI Squadron in 1927. However, the fact that the task of finding the extra cruisers for this purpose meant in effect a reduction in the numbers of warships assigned to the RN’s most important prestigious overseas squadron, the Mediterranean Fleet, is significant. This factor, coupled with the order that the primary task of the South American Division was principally to be one of ‘showing the flag’ rather than training, demonstrated that real importance was being attached to this often disregarded peacetime role.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 66

04/12/2013 08:14

3

A Case Study: The ‘High Point’ of the Anglo-Chilean Naval Association, 1925–33

Historically, among the South American navies the Royal Navy’s relationship with the Chilean Navy has been the closest and the most durable. Nowhere in Chile was this more evident than in the largest seaport, Valparaiso. At the turn of the twentieth century the writer Salvador Reyes summed up his impression of the port thus: ‘Something has remained here, floating, of the great Valparaiso of business and sea voyages. Ever present is the penetrating memory of 1900, of the violent port, impregnated with Englishness and action.’ Reyer develops this Anglo-Chilean theme further: ‘ Some time ago on the flat parts of the city, in Condell and Prat Streets there was such a remarkable British imprint that more than once in London or Liverpool I stopped, like a drunken sailor, not knowing whether I was in a wrong continent.’1 By the second decade of the twentieth century this intimate connection was still evident but was declining in relative importance. The opening of the Panama Canal in 1914 had meant that Valparaiso was no longer the automatic first port of call for vessels heading for the Pacific by the western route. Maritime trade declined and the expatriates who had hitherto held key professional posts either left for home or, through marriage, became absorbed into the indigenous population. Nevertheless the Royal Navy maintained its connection with the Chilean Navy even when the America and West Indies Squadron was temporarily withdrawn from the region. Importantly at this time, the association between the navies was sustained through the provision of training. This meant that the RN exercised a vital influence over the country’s naval ethos; this influence later extended to matters of internal reorganization. The extent to which the Royal Navy was prepared to offer training facilities in the UK, on the other hand, proved problematic, and was to remain a contentious and delicate issue throughout the interwar period.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 67

04/12/2013 08:14

68

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

The most successful aspects of this period of the Anglo-Chilean naval partnership included the winning of contracts for the construction of a number of warships and submarines in UK shipyards, and three successive naval missions which ran concurrently. However, at the same time there was increasing unrest within the Chilean Navy itself, and a requirement for systemic change. This culminated in the mutiny of 1931. However, the Royal Navy personnel present in the country during the mutiny managed to keep to their ‘advisory’ brief and did not become embroiled in the internal unrest. Unfortunately, this interlude was to end unsatisfactorily as the impact of the World Financial Crisis of 1929 affected the stability of Chile in the early 1930s. The Royal Navy’s presence and the tasks undertaken by the warships deployed to the region became increasingly confused with the requirement to protect the British expatriate population. This in turn became the cause of friction between the Foreign Office and the Navy as to exactly what role the latter should undertake at such times of crisis.

Training of naval personnel in Chile Despite the absence of its warships, between 1922 and 1926 the Royal Navy maintained an important form of influence over Chilean naval ethos and training during the tenure of Captain Tomlin, RN, as Director of the Naval War College in Valparaiso.2 Tomlin had been commanding officer of HMS Canada, one of the two battleships commandeered from Chile by the Royal Navy for service during World War One while they were being built in the UK. The ship, since renamed Almirante Latorre, was now back in Chilean hands. The seemingly magnanimous gesture by the British Government over the eventual cost of the vessel, coupled with the link with Captain Tomlin’s previous command, may well have influenced his choice as director of the college in 1922. Certainly, the Chilean predilection for continuity, which was to become a feature of the naval association over the next decade, was strengthened by the additional appointment of Lieutenant-Commander A. C. W. Domville as a gunnery adviser. Domville had also been a member of the first British Naval Mission to Chile before the outbreak of World War One.3 The matter of Captain Tomlin’s eventual successor in the post was raised early in 1924. It was suggested that Tomlin himself might be the most suitable appointee. When it became known that the Chilean Naval Staff was debating the matter, it was learned that some were questioning the financial burden of

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 68

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

69

maintaining such an appointment in future in the knowledge that the Americans were prepared to offer an officer of equivalent rank free of charge. A letter from Captain Tomlin himself, written in late 1925, revealed significant divisions within the Chilean Navy which were to become more pronounced over the next two or three years. He stated that, while some senior officers advocated the need for a Chilean officer to be appointed, others remained faithfully pro-British. A third faction, which Tomlin referred to as ‘the old school’, suggested that the post could be abolished altogether.4 Captain Tomlin’s letter coincided with one received by the Foreign Office from the British Legation stating that the Chilean Naval Staff was questioning whether this appointee was ‘precisely the person they wanted’. It was felt that a younger officer of Commander rank would be preferable, one who could provide advice while serving afloat as part of his duties.5 The desire among an element within the upper echelons of the Chilean Navy to prevent the British from exerting too much influence became more apparent when the naval mission arrived in Chile in February 1926. Although there were some objections voiced about the British exercising control over naval organization and ethos through the naval mission and the directorship of their war college, the Chilean Naval Staff was nevertheless anxious to avail itself of any opportunity for its own personnel to experience specialist training in Britain. Admiral Fisher, while Director of Naval Intelligence, had championed the provision of instructional facilities in the UK as yet another indirect means of attracting a client nation to show favour over warship contracts. His immediate successors in the post appeared to follow his lead.6 This method of ‘courting’ a potential customer appeared logical in theory, but was to cause a good deal of dissension over matters of security and also with respect to the charging of fees. The question of restrictions on foreign officer training had been debated in 1925. The position at the time was that no training was permitted to take place on seagoing ships or at certain advanced courses at the Royal Naval College at Greenwich. Additionally, a fresh proposal was for a fixed fee to be charged for accommodation as opposed to the former policy of allowing an officer to arrange his own lodgings.7 In the summer of that year, the Chilean Government enquired about the possibility of its pilots receiving naval air training in the UK. Reluctance was shown immediately by the Naval Air Section which questioned why the Chileans needed this form of experience when their navy did not operate any aircraft carriers. The Air Ministry, which had dealt with the initial enquiry via the Foreign Office, stated that the British Government had already

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 69

04/12/2013 08:14

70

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

received orders for aircraft from the Chilean Government worth £200,000 and therefore was in favour of allowing the two airmen access to training and the experience of aircraft carrier operations. A terse reply from the Admiralty stipulated that, if this training was to go ahead, the necessary secrecy surrounding British naval air policy, methods and equipment must not be compromised through any relaxation in the agreed rules.8 The cumbersome four-way exchange over this matter between the Naval Air Section at the Admiralty, the Air Ministry, the Foreign Office and, in this instance, the Chilean Legation in London, is a reflection of the difficult and often fractious relationship which existed during the interwar years between the RN and the Royal Air Force (RAF). Control of aircraft that embarked in warships was divided, with the Admiralty being responsible for operational command at sea and the RAF for administration and training ashore. Roskill points out that the enduring atmosphere of enmity between the two services reached a nadir in the middle of the decade, principally over the issue of the proportion of RAF pilots to be allocated to the Fleet Air Arm and the numbers of non-commissioned personnel to be admitted for training.9 On the matter of charging fees for the aviation courses, it was pointed out that Britain was the only country to do so, and that other nations – especially Italy and USA – used every manner of inducement to attract foreign officers to study in those countries. The DNI argued persuasively in favour of the waiving of fees, citing the fact that, ‘whilst 13 submarines (approx.) are being built to foreign order in France, Italy, USA and Holland, not one is building in Great Britain’ as an example of how important it was to use incentives in order to encourage foreign nations to place warship orders.10 In the end it was decided that the matter should be debated at a meeting attended by representatives from the Treasury, the Foreign Office, the Air Ministry and the Admiralty.11 The outcome of the ensuing conference, held in February 1927, saw the Treasury concede to some persuasive arguments by the Admiralty over the likely connection between offers of technical training and eventual warship and armament export orders. As a result, no fees were to be charged for certain technical courses, with reductions made in other cases.12 But the Treasury did demand proof. It was stipulated that this was to be provided in the form of a yearly audit of those courses which had accommodated foreign officers, together with details of the ships and equipment sold to individual countries during the same period. This proved to be fine in theory but not in practice, as noted by the DNI in April 1927, which questioned whether it was ever possible to make a quantitative measurement of that kind.13

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 70

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

71

In the meantime, the question of whether to allow foreign officers to spend time at sea in HM ships, and if so how much they would be permitted to witness at first hand, remained an issue both contentious and unresolved. In 1927, the case of two Chilean officers who had been admitted to the Long Signal Course at Portsmouth became the focus of much debate and ultimately resulted in an important change in Admiralty Board policy. Part of the signal course would enable the foreign officers to spend six months afloat, during which time they would inevitably witness Royal Navy communications procedures and drills in action. Naturally, this raised issues of access to confidential information, particularly as they might also be privy to discussions about fleet manoeuvres and associated tactics, including naval air operations that were still in a comparatively early stage of evolution in the late 1920s. Although the witnessing of these events would not have direct relevance to the Chilean Navy, there was fear that information might be leaked to the USA and to Japan. Both John Ferris and Geoffrey Till, from different perspectives, describe British defence policy in the late 1920s as being in a state of stasis. Ferris argued that Britain at the time was doing everything in its power to maintain the status quo, particularly with regard to the USA, Japan and the Soviet Union. It was Till’s view that Britain’s military leaders repeatedly failed to receive guidance about when they might be expected to wage war and who their allies might be. Therefore the most sensible course of action with respect to the vital ‘new technology’ being developed for use aboard aircraft carriers was to maintain a policy of tight security.14 However, this policy translated into an apparent lack of vision on the matter of the degree of access foreign naval officers might have on board RN ships. It prompted this sardonic comment at the time from a clearly exasperated DNI: Surely foreign officers know that aircraft can land and take off from carriers. Is it the tactics employed by torpedo aircraft that is feared they may witness? If so, the commanding officer of the ship they are serving in can be entrusted to see that they are inspecting the bilges at that moment.15

The matter was considered important enough for it to be on the agenda of the December 1927 meeting of the Admiralty Board. The connection between the presence of RN missions in a client country and the facilities for training in the UK gained official recognition at this meeting as a key facilitator towards firms receiving warship building contracts. In the event of these orders being ‘of a substantial nature’, as in the case of Chile, facilities would in future be granted to foreign officers to gain experience afloat, ‘even to the extent of witnessing the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 71

04/12/2013 08:14

72

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Combined Exercises of the Mediterranean and Atlantic Fleets should special circumstances render this desirable.’16 The issue of access remained contentious throughout the 1930s. In 1938, the Admiralty Board again canvassed the opinions of departments regarding the degree to which secrecy regulations should be relaxed. Sensibly perhaps, in the absence of agreement on an overall policy, it was decided to leave the matter in the hands of the local senior officer.17

Orders for naval ships The Admiralty’s cost-effective solution to the problem of providing a regular presence in South American waters and the granting of government approval to proceed were timely with respect to Chile. Intense negotiations had been underway during 1926–7 over the awarding of contracts to build six destroyers, three submarines and a depot ship. Three British firms had been in competition with rival Italian, French and Dutch shipbuilders for the destroyer contract after tenders had been submitted to no fewer than 25 businesses in several countries. In March of that year, the FO was able to inform Thornycroft & Co. that it had secured permission for the firm to build the destroyers. There had been fierce competition from Italy who had sought to have any decision regarding the award of the contract postponed with promises of a reduction in price and a shorter delivery time.18 These offers were insufficient to persuade the Chileans to forsake their traditional warship builders, and the destroyers, specially adapted for service across a wide range of climates in order to suit Chile’s unusual coastline, were all launched in 1928 and entered service 1928–9.19 Crucially, however, this agreement did not include the construction of the armament for the warships. Despite Vickers-Armstrong being informed in April 1927 that it had been awarded this contract, what were considered to be underhand dealings orchestrated by the Chilean Naval Mission in London led to rumours that the Swedish firm of Bofors had been allowed to place a bid which undercut the price hitherto agreed with Vickers-Armstrong after the official deadline for tender had passed. This was later confirmed. The British Minister in Santiago was incensed by the whole matter and sought permission to lodge an official protest with the Chilean Government.20 The Foreign Office exerted pressure on the Chileans and the decision was reversed again, which, in turn, angered the Swedish Government and resulted in a further spate of diplomatic protests.21

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 72

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

73

Two points emerge from this unfortunate and embarrassing episode. First, Vickers-Armstrong, with involvement both in shipbuilding and armaments, was most anxious to secure contracts at this difficult time in order to preserve its workforce. J. D. Scott states that the newly merged ‘Vickers-Armstrong’ faced an awkward dilemma in the early years of its formation, ‘that of being an armaments manufacturer in a country devoted to a policy of disarmament’.22 Ironically, British naval expenditure was increasing in the late 1920s, peaking in 1928 at £16.3 million, but it would take time to make any difference to the fortunes of a firm that had been forced, in the meantime, to close down one of its naval yards. In this particular case, Vickers was prepared to reduce by a sizeable margin the cost of the armament contract in order to match Bofors’s offer. It was thought that this would place Vickers-Armstrong in a favourable position to win a more lucrative contract in future to build submarines for Chile. Indeed, subsequently the firm was awarded the contract to build three modified British ‘O’ Class submarines, which entered Chilean service between May and September 1929, and a submarine depot ship, the Araucano, which was launched in October 1929.23 The matter also highlighted the divisions within the higher ranks of the Chilean Navy itself, alluded to earlier. With respect to the specific case of the destroyer armaments deal, it was suspected that a pro-German officer on the staff of the Chilean Naval Mission in London had been principally responsible for the secret negotiations that had led to the premature announcement that Bofors had won the order. None the less, from the Chilean Navy’s perspective, the considerable outlay in money proved to be successful. Positive comments regarding the quality of the workmanship were being conveyed to Santiago even at the launch of the first vessel in January 1928. There can be little doubt that the satisfactory performance of the destroyers in particular persuaded the Chilean Navy to continue to opt to buy British-built warships over the next four decades despite intense pressure from the United States.24

Impact of the anti-British faction on the first naval mission to Chile, 1926–7 Although the Chilean Navy was considered to be predominantly pro-British in outlook, as opposed to the strong pro-German traditions that existed within

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 73

04/12/2013 08:14

74

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

the Chilean Army, the controversy over the granting of the armaments contract in 1927 is just one example of how at the time a caucus of senior officers was subtly seeking to distance itself from the influence of the Royal Navy. The fact that Messrs Bofors had close connections with the German firm Krupp, which owned a one-third share in the company at the time, made the proposed deal with the Swedish firm even more unpalatable.25 The root cause of the problem lay with the fact that, ever since independence, the Chilean naval administrative headquarters had been located in Valparaiso rather than close to the seat of government in Santiago. During the long and highly influential service of Admiral Jorge Montt as Director General of the Navy (1896–1913) in particular, the naval administration had enjoyed a considerable measure of autonomy, which had led to it being described variously as ‘a state within a state’ or la República Chica. The description ‘a state within a state’ was also used to describe the Chilean Army at the same time.26 However, Frederick Nunn makes it clear that the circumstances that led to the use of the phrase were quite different from those of the navy, although there was a shared restlessness among more junior ranks brought about by a similarly conservative high command.27 A lack of governmental interference had meant that, although the Chilean Navy had kept pace with technological advancements, these had not been matched with similar reforms in institutional structures such as career management and promotion. By the mid-1920s an increasingly vocal demand for change, led by a cohort of frustrated middle-ranking officers, was being resisted by the high command. It was feared that the arrival of a British Naval Mission, which it was anticipated would bring ideas for modernizing the infrastructure, would constitute a further source of threat to the status quo. There are differing accounts as to the exact sequence of events leading to the Chilean Navy’s initial request for a British naval mission, but the visit made by the Prince of Wales to the country in 1925 provided the opportunity for an application to be forwarded to the British Government with the support of His Royal Highness.28 The key factor seems to have been that a personal appeal was made to the Prince of Wales by some of the middle-ranking Chilean naval officers referred to above. The impact of this bold and unconventional initiative on the Chilean naval hierarchy was evident later in the year when plans for the mission were being discussed in London at a meeting between the Second Sea Lord and Admiral Ward, Head of the Chilean Naval Mission to Britain. Admiral Ward referred to a misunderstanding with regard to the character of the mission which needed to be corrected in official communications. He said that the Chilean Government only wanted officers to provide instruction in specialist

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 74

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

75

subjects, not advice on structural reorganization. A handwritten letter from the British Minister in Santiago to the FO subsequently begged, ‘For heaven’s sake issue an Imperial Grade forbidding anyone to call the impending naval mission to this country a mission.’ It was later agreed that the title ‘Naval Advisory Staff ’ would be more appropriate.29 There were strong expressions of opposition made in the House of Commons to the despatch of the naval mission. Hugh Dalton argued that it contradicted the spirit of the Washington Naval Treaty: Instead of encouraging disarmament, we are sending out a Naval Mission to Chile, of naval advisory staff, consisting of five naval and one air officer. Have they gone to advise Chile how to disarm, or have they gone to encourage Chile to pile up armaments and so start an armaments race in South America, which has hitherto been free from this disease?30

Commander Garnons-Williams’s report on his experiences during the first naval mission, which arrived in 1926, is revealing and confirms the deep policy divisions in the ranks of the Chilean Navy at the time. He claimed that, while the Chilean admirals had made an outward show of welcoming the mission, they had skilfully managed to get the terms of employment redefined, using the term ‘Advisory Staff ’ in order to side-track the issue of any ‘root and branch’ changes being advocated by the British. Their insistence that the mission should consist of specialist junior officers only, rather than including a flag officer commanding as originally requested, was therefore significant.31 Unfamiliarity with the surroundings, a lack of facility with the language (which, contradictorily, proved to have some advantages, as the RN officers did not immediately sense any anti-British sentiments), and the deliberate policy of the Chilean admirals to divide the advisers geographically between Valparaiso and the main Chilean naval base at Talcahuano, all conspired against the mission during the first few months. In Garnons-Williams’ opinion, the key post of Vice-Admiral Juan Schroeder as Director General of the Navy constituted an additional and major stumbling-block. Schroeder’s ancestry meant that he was strongly pro-German and keenly resented the potential influence of the British contingent. An example of the admiral’s apparent dislike of the British was evident in his avoidance of any contact with the Royal Navy when HMS Colombo visited the country in October 1926: From private enquiries I ascertained that the reason given for Admiral Schroeder’s absence (from an important reception) was that his daughter’s mother-in-law had recently died, but I may add that this tragic event did not

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 75

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

76

prevent him from attending the festivities given a day or two later in honour of the ex-chancellor of the German Republic, Doctor Luther, who had just visited Valparaiso.32

Between February and June of the following year, however, major changes took place in the Chilean Navy’s organization and administration. Under pressure from the Chilean Government, all but one of the senior admirals resigned en masse. A number of junior ranking personnel were appointed in their place, including a new Minister of Marine, Commander Carlos Frödden. The stimulus for this putsch came from the same group of officers who had been involved with the earlier initiative to employ a British naval mission. At the heart of their grievances was the position of engineer officers, who were not accorded the same status as ‘deck-officers’. William Sater lists the discontent felt by oficiales mayores (the technical officers) who, although as well educated as line officers, received less pay, wore different uniforms and could not expect to rise above the rank of naval captain. There was a call to end this social stigma that was considered to be wholly inappropriate in the technological age.33 A month later, during an interview with the British naval attaché Captain Salmond, Frödden sought to confirm all the misgivings of the Advisory Staff about their previous status in Chile and the attitude of the senior staff towards the arrival of the RN personnel. In seeking to reassure him about the future, the Minister urged that the RN officers should now work as a ‘committee – a mission’. Any advice given by an individual would be considered to be the opinion of the whole British party.34 The ‘revolution’ in the Chilean high command heralded a welcome change in attitude towards the RN advisers. The title of ‘mission’ once more became acceptable. Garnons-Williams noted that a series of fleet exercises was completed under RN control during the latter half of 1927, with much progress being demonstrated in terms of tactical efficiency and skills. Work also began on reorganizing the administration. By 1 July, the Chilean Navy’s offices had been moved from Valparaiso to Santiago and all but one of the RN officers were now based in the capital with the express purpose of assisting in the reorganization of the fleet both ashore and afloat.35

Second naval mission to Chile, 1928–30 By January 1928, Garnons-Williams was able to comment that the reorganization phase was progressing well, being undertaken ‘almost without fear

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 76

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

77

from subversive elements’. This meant that the new cohort of RN officers who composed the second mission, 1928–30, was able to commence its work in an atmosphere conducive to cooperation and acceptance of the need for change. A letter written in December 1928 by Commander Pegram, head of what was now styled the British ‘Advisory Mission’, described the progress that had been made. He remarked on the fact that ‘… technical efficiency in “G.” and “T.” is fairly high’ and ‘… Bassett (another member of the party) will be through with his work by the end of the year and should be home early in February’.36 Nevertheless, Pegram was also realistic about the task facing the mission. He claimed that there were fundamental flaws in the Chilean Navy, mainly concerning education and training. He did not elaborate on this point. However, in 1930 an anonymous article appeared in The Naval Review quite possibly written by the same officer. In this insightful piece, referring to the consequences of the February–June internal naval revolution, the author states that the negative effect of the sudden loss of most of the senior officers in the Chilean Navy was being felt in terms of discipline and morale. Surprisingly, the writer was also prepared to criticize the rapid modernization of the Chilean Navy which had been achieved through the acquisition of no fewer than 14 new vessels from British shipbuilders together with the impending extensive modernization of her battleship Almirante Latorre which was to be undertaken at Devonport dockyard.37 These rather sobering criticisms of what, at first sight, would seem to have been an excellent outcome for the British commercial and naval export drive in the country appear contradictory. However, one can discern the personal feelings of this officer about the underlying purpose of the naval mission, namely the marrying of commercial interests with what he would consider to be the proper benefits of a close, professional association between two navies. He was anxious that future advisory staff should be prepared to ‘counteract any tendency to place undue importance upon the commercial advantages which the presence of the mission offers to England’.38 There were important lessons to be learned from the experience of the naval advisers over the period 1927–30, and there is evidence that the British Naval Staff was sufficiently convinced of the worth of its mission to listen and to take action. It was clear that the language barrier constituted a serious problem in terms of forming relationships and making progress, at least initially. This issue was addressed and the members of the second mission benefited from a language immersion course in Spain while en-route to Valparaiso. The effect of this initiative was immediately apparent and it was reported that the Chileans

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 77

04/12/2013 08:14

78

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

had commented on the willingness of the British officers and their wives to mix socially, aided by their grasp of the language. However, it required an exceptional Treasury concession to fund the course and it was realized that, in future, the Chileans would have to bear the burden of the cost of this tuition.39 Two other matters were deemed to be of importance in terms of the personnel selected for the task. First, it was recognized that those chosen needed to be of the highest possible quality and integrity.40 Although it may have seemed an obvious move only to select the most able personnel for a role that required sophisticated ambassadorial skills among other attributes, there was a genuine reticence and concern expressed by some ambitious officers that selection to spend two years in a distant South American country might inhibit future career prospects. The second matter involved continuity and was more difficult for the British Naval Staff to address, as it impinged on the normal two-year cycle of appointments. By 1929, the Chileans were making overtures to the RN about extending the appointments of three of the current members of the mission beyond the customary two-year tour of duty. They were particularly anxious to retain Commander Pegram, although they also favoured the re-appointment of Captain Jackson, who had led the 1926–8 mission. The Chileans recognized the potential problems affecting an extension of Commander Pegram’s appointment. It was speculated that Jackson, who had been promoted to captain since leaving Chile in 1928, might have been willing to return to the country in 1930 having served elsewhere in the meantime. It was recognized that, because of his promotion, this officer would have to serve as a rear-admiral while in Chile. This was further evidence that the prejudice against senior RN officers being part of the naval mission had completely evaporated. In the event, Captain W. L. Jackson did return to head the mission during the period 1930–2.41 It was natural for the Chilean Navy to seek to keep personnel with whom it had forged good working relationships, especially at a time when it was subject to fundamental changes and upheavals. In the event, it was decided that two members of the second mission, including Pegram, should be recommended to have their contracts extended.42 This decision was to cause a flurry of dissent among members of the Naval Staff. Several expressed concern that contracts for the third mission, due to start the next year, should not be automatically extended to three years, especially in the case of members of the RN’s Executive Branch. What is revealing about these views was the distinction that was drawn between the comparative worth of the Executive and the Engineering branches of the Royal Navy at the time. While there was agreement that an appointment

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 78

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

79

of a Commander (E) on a three-year contract to work in the Naval War College was acceptable, the same was not true for an equivalent Commander (X). These latter officers still constituted the future senior captains and flag officers, and the security of the career paths of these men was considered sacrosanct.43

Chilean naval mutiny, 1931 The overall success of the first and second missions is evident in the fact that the Chilean Navy, in requesting a third two-year contract for a mission, also asked that the numbers of RN officers to be assigned should be increased from eight to 10. The proposed party would comprise one captain in the role of general adviser, together with specialists in submarines, staff work, gunnery, torpedo, engineering, communications, naval instruction and naval air. It is easy to detect the reasons for the continued popularity of the Royal Naval personnel. The Confidential Reports of the period repeatedly cited the concern felt among Chileans at what were described as the ‘decay of old established British commercial interests’ and the simultaneous growth of American trade and influence. There was reported to be a strong sense of nostalgia and of emphasis on the maintenance of historic connections with Britain: Chileans are fond of professing quite particular feelings of friendship for Great Britain, and of recalling sentimentally the war of independence and such names as Cochrane, O’Higgins and MacKenna. They like to refer to themselves as the British of Latin America, and to find much that is common to the characters of the two peoples. … This liking for us to which I refer is most strikingly manifest when one of His Majesty’s ships visits Chilean waters.44

Thus, the presence within the country of high quality, hand-picked British naval experts was not only reassuring for some of the less experienced members of the Chilean Naval Staff who suddenly found themselves in positions of responsibility for which they were unprepared, but also for the wider educated community. The RN constituted a link with the country’s past and its successful fight for independence. The continuing presence of Royal Navy warships in Chilean ports seemed further assured in 1930 when the Admiralty took the decision to separate the South American Division from the existing A&WI Fleet. In fact, the move was born out of practicality. Experience over the past three years had shown that it was impossible for one flag officer to keep in personal touch with the whole

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 79

04/12/2013 08:14

80

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

of his command, now that it stretched as far south as Cape Horn. The result saw the appointment of a Commodore (Second Class) to command the new division.45 Ironically, in the midst of these expressions of mutual benefit, Chile was undergoing a most severe internal crisis precipitated by the 1929 Wall Street Crash. The country was heavily in debt and became acutely vulnerable when prices for export commodities plummeted. A wave of popular unrest followed as the government fought to implement measures which would arrest the financial decline. President Ibanez was forced from office in July 1931. A new Minister of Finance in the caretaker government of Manuel Trucco quickly announced measures to address the crisis in the budget. He cut the salaries of all public employees, which included the armed forces, by between 12 and 30 per cent.46 William Sater states that what started as a low-key request by the crews of the northern flotilla, which was anchored at the port of Coquimbo at the time, to their squadron commander to forward a petition asking the government to cancel the pay cuts, spread to other parts of the fleet and rapidly became a more serious form of naval mutiny.47 This simple description of events that commenced on the afternoon of 31 August 1931 fails to explain quite why the incident escalated so quickly into a full-scale mutiny. The northern flotilla was at the time divided into two squadrons of warships, and initially the unrest was confined to one of those squadrons. Carlos Tromben shows that it was the manner in which complaints about pay were made which ran contrary to naval regulations. As a result, Captain Alberto Horven, the commanding officer of the battleship Almirante Latorre, an unpopular and stern disciplinarian, called a muster to be attended by all the crew of the squadron flagship together with delegations from other ships in the squadron. After berating the ships’ companies for their personal selfishness and absence of patriotism, he refused to forward petitions regarding pay to the government and threatened with severe punishment any crew member who attempted to do so independently.48 Although they dispersed quietly, that evening there were secret gatherings of crew members aboard Almirante Latorre. Crucially, although hitherto there had been no obvious signs of unrest reported in the other squadron, there was a boxing match organized for ratings aboard the flagship O’Higgins which was attended by crews from other ships. Plans for the mutiny were promulgated during that event. In the meantime O’Higgins’s officers were entertaining civil guests. At 4.00 a.m. the next morning, officers on duty and those who were asleep were surprised by armed mutineers, who ordered them to hand over their personal weapons and

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 80

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

81

to remain in their cabins. Both of the squadron flag officers tried to dissuade the mutineers; Captain Horven even fired at the crew himself, but without success. By 5.00 p.m. all the warships at Coquimbo were under control of the mutineers. Five days later the mutiny had spread to shore establishments at the naval base at Talcahuano and to some of the vessels there, and also to the nearby Air Force base. Meanwhile, negotiations at Coquimbo between the mutineers and a senior-ranking naval officer despatched from Santiago failed to reach a resolution. The movement of some surface ships and submarines by the rebels from Talcahuano to Coquimbo proved the catalyst for decisive government action to supress the rebellion. Five army regiments supported by a naval officers’ infantry company were used to assault the Talcahuano base on 5 September. The next day, the Chilean Air Force attacked the naval ships assembled in Coquimbo Harbour. Although casualties were very light, the demoralizing effect of this assault precipitated the collapse of the revolt.49 There are divergent views about the exact motives of the mutineers. Philip Somervell suggests that the pay cut precipitated unrest among the crews of the fleet stationed at Coquimbo. Sater, in his 1980 article entitled The Abortive Kronstadt: The Chilean Naval Mutiny of 1931, states that the leaders of the revolt were members of the lower deck and not ‘ambitious officers’, and that they were driven by economic necessity rather than political motives. In a later essay, Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931, the same author was of the view that the cuts in military salaries constituted what he describes as the ‘most proximate cause’, but that more far-reaching alterations to Chile’s social and economic structure were also part of the mutineers’ agenda.50 Carlos Tromben mostly agrees with Sater’s interpretation. The collective acts of indiscipline reflected the uncertainties and fears of the ships’ companies regarding the economic and political uncertainties of the time, particularly the recent reductions in salaries. Tromben’s exhaustive examination of the transcripts of the various courts martial which followed the mutiny reveal that there were isolated signs of unrest and dissatisfaction aboard a number of warships prior to the events of 31 August, which goes some way to explaining why the revolt spread so quickly. Although the mutiny was not initiated by individual agitators, there is much evidence to suggest that the origins of the discontent were historic and may in part have included fraternization between British and Chilean personnel during Almirante Latorre’s long refit in Devonport dockyard.51 What is apparent is that the naval mutiny came as a surprise to the British advisory party. A report by the naval attaché on the events of September 1931 made this clear. Naval advisers had spent the week prior to the mutiny at sea

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 81

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

82

aboard the flagship as the battleship conducted gunnery and torpedo exercises. They had described the exercises as very successful and were highly satisfied with the training and discipline of the crews. Subsequently, they were described as being ‘dumbfounded’ to hear the news.52 However, it would be a mistake immediately to assume that these RN officers were out of touch or had completely misread the disposition of the rank-and-file Chilean crew members. In accounts of the sequence of events during the mutiny itself, there is no suggestion of an immediate descent into anarchy or of mob rule prevailing. For example, when the government’s negotiator, Admiral von Schroeders, arrived aboard Almirante Latorre, he was afforded all the ceremony due his rank. Tromben’s account of the treatment of the officers aboard vessels anchored at Coquimbo, for example, suggest that the mutineers adopted a firm but correct manner; only the more vehement protestors were despatched to the ships’ detention cells. The discipline of the men and their natural deference to rank, which several members of the British mission had noted, remained constant throughout the mutiny despite the novel situation in which they found themselves.53 It would seem that the effects of the Chilean Navy’s 1928 internal revolution were being felt belatedly and that the misgivings expressed above about the vacuum caused by the sudden departure of a tranche of senior officers were correct. Additionally, as Sater points out, over the previous five years the lower deck had witnessed not only its own officers, but those in the army as well, meddling in politics. He suggests that this factor more than any other empowered the crews to take the law into their own hands. Two years earlier, in the course of his annual Confidential Report, the British Minister had likened the Chilean Navy to a ‘robust invalid recovering from a severe shock’, while senior posts in the service were currently filled by men of little experience who actively ‘disliked responsibility’. However, the Ambassador was not always accurate in capturing the mood of the country. Reporting the news of the 1931 public sector cuts which triggered the mutiny, he wrote: ‘As far as the cuts in salaries goes, I think the army and the navy will swallow it.’54

Termination of the British naval mission to Chile The surrender of the rebels following the suppression of the mutiny had a devastating effect on the Chilean Navy. The active fleet was drastically reduced in size. Three thousand servicemen lost their livelihoods and the hitherto popular

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 82

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

83

Armada de Chile became estranged from the general public who had failed to associate themselves with the demands of the mutineers.55 A letter by the British Ambassador to the Foreign Secretary in October 1931 described the current morale of the Chilean naval forces as being very low. He painted a depressing picture of the situation some six weeks after the surrender of the rebels: The relations between officers and men leave much to be desired and the former now invariably go about armed. The navy is hopelessly disorganized; not only has it for the time being forfeited its prestige in the eyes of the country, but there is little doubt it will be radically reduced in strength through dismissals both of officers and men and by the laying up of numerous ships including the dreadnought “Almirante Latorre”.

It was reported the same month that Chile was seeking to sell its battleship as an economy measure. The British did not object to this proposal. The prediction that the Chileans would have difficulty finding a buyer owing to the limitations imposed by the Washington Naval Treaty (1922) proved correct, and the ship was not sold.56 Somervell states that, in a retrograde step, there was a partial retreat to former practices when, late in 1931, and directly against British advice, naval headquarters were returned to Valparaiso. The Chilean Navy had failed the ‘acid test’ of the fleet’s modernization programme of the 1920s, demonstrating an inability to sustain both discipline and authority in the face of unrest in its ranks.57 Tromben notes that the combination of the economic crisis facing Chile at the time, coupled with the mutineers’ dismissal from the service, resulted in a decline in the Navy’s operational capability and, vitally, ‘a loss of credibility … in the eyes of the civil society’. This had far-reaching consequences because, by the time economic recovery had been achieved, World War Two had started and it had become impossible for Chile to obtain new weapons and warships from overseas sources.58 Undoubtedly the decision to revert to previous practices was orchestrated by the new Minister of Marine, Rear-Admiral Spoerer, who reputedly harboured a deep-seated resentment of President Ibanez’s regime during whose term of office the revolution in Chilean naval affairs had been initiated three years earlier. It was reported that there was a danger that the most important work of the British Naval Mission in reorganizing the infrastructure was now about to be undone. Moreover, a propaganda campaign had already commenced which accused the RN mission of placing too much responsibility on the shoulders of Chief and Petty Officers during training, claiming that this was one of the principal causes of the mutiny.59

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 83

04/12/2013 08:14

84

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Therefore the return of Captain W. L. Jackson, RN, to Chile as head of the third naval mission, 1930–2, was timely. This popular officer was influential enough to overturn the plan for administrative decentralization that would have included a return to the old system whereby the navy was managed from headquarters in Valparaiso. Additionally, Jackson used his knowledge and his personal contacts within the wider community to provide intelligence for the FO as internal unrest, particularly in 1931–2, threatened the stability of the country.60 Despite this, and the optimistic tone of the Confidential Report for 1930 which noted that the reduction in the Navy’s budget had not affected either the purchase of new equipment or the size of the British naval party in Chile, the departure of all but one of the Royal Navy advisers by March 1932 effectively brought to an end six successful years of close partnership between the two navies.61 Captain Jackson was succeeded as Head of Mission by Commander DormanSmith, but this was to be a short tenure in office as he was due for recall to the UK at the end of November 1932, the official termination date of the third mission. By then the Admiralty in London had become embroiled in a dispute with the Chilean authorities over the final payments of salaries of two RN officers who had already left the country.62 The matter was not settled quickly, and at the end of 1932 an ultimatum had to be delivered to the Chilean Minister for Foreign Affairs stating that, unless assurances could be given over the convertibility to sterling of mission officers’ salaries, no further appointments would be made. In the event, Commander Dorman-Smith agreed to extend his stay for a further six months.63

Disagreements between Admiralty and Foreign Office over policy and control The internal unrest within Chile, brought about by the rising cost of living owing, among other factors, to the depreciation of the peso and the inability of the government of President Montero to solve the country’s economic problems, had resulted in what the British Ambassador described in April 1932 as ‘an atmosphere of uncertainty and uneasiness’. In a letter to the Foreign Office, replete with warnings and forebodings, he related details of the increased activity by radical elements within the country and the impact of strikes and wage demands among the workforce.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 84

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

85

By early June the political situation had deteriorated sufficiently for the FO, on behalf of the British community living in Valparaiso, to request the Admiralty that a cruiser be despatched to the city as a precautionary measure.64 This request brought to a head a difference of opinion with the Admiralty over interpretation of policy. In this instance, Vice-Admiral Dreyer, the Deputy Chief of Naval Staff (DCNS), refused to authorize the despatch of a cruiser of the South American Division to Chile unless a specific request was made by the Foreign Secretary himself. He claimed that the expense involved would be considerable and that a diversion to the west coast of the continent would disrupt plans already made for the future deployment of the ship, in this instance the cruiser HMS Durban. It would appear that this was not the first occasion when Admiral Dreyer had objected to Foreign Office requests of this kind.65 Despite Dreyer’s protests, Durban was despatched the following month. However, the dispute between the two offices of state was serious enough to bring a personal intervention by the Permanent Under-Secretary of State at the Foreign Office, Sir Robert Vansittart, in the form of two letters of protest to the First Lord of the Admiralty. Vansittart argued that the expense of sending warships had to be set against ‘the enormous importance of British interests in South America’.66 The unavailability of the ships, at least on the occasion when HMS Durban was requested, was due to the fact that the entire A&WI Squadron was concentrated at Bermuda for a protracted length of time taking part in various kinds of squadron exercises. Here lay the fundamental difference in perception of the task at the time between the Royal Navy and the Foreign Office. For the Navy, the maintenance of high levels of efficiency, training and squadron esprit de corps outweighed other matters, at least for a quarter of the year. Vansittart’s letters prompted a flurry of internal correspondence between members of the Naval Staff seeking ways in which both sides might be satisfied but with the express purpose of ensuring that the yearly, three-month concentration of the squadron at Bermuda should be preserved.67 In this respect, as in the concern expressed about the links between ‘trade’ and the naval mission in Chile, the aim of the senior officers in the Royal Navy was invariably the maintenance of professional and war-fighting efficiency above all other considerations. However, it would be wrong to assume that the attitude and opinion of the Naval Staff and Commanders-in-Chief totally precluded recognition of their wider responsibilities in peacetime. A minute by the Head of the Military (M) Branch, for example, conceded that although, in the normal circumstances, there was no legal obligation to protect British citizens working abroad, ‘there is

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 85

04/12/2013 08:14

86

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

a duty to afford protection when there is immediate danger’. He went on to state, ‘… when one of H.M. ships is en-route it has a steadying influence generally and strengthens any representations that our diplomatic representative may have to make. The fact that we demonstrate that we are able to send a warship is also no doubt of considerable value from the point of view of prestige.’68 Despite this, there remained a degree of scepticism from ‘the men on the spot’ regarding the value of Royal Navy warships sailing into South American ports where there was local unrest. What did these actions actually achieve, quite possibly at the end of a lengthy and fuel-expensive voyage? Both the Commodore, South American Division and, the following year, his immediate superior, the C-in-C A & WI, raised this issue. In August 1932, Commodore Lane-Poole, who had been aboard HMS Durban when the cruiser had been present in Chilean waters at the height of the unrest earlier in the summer, disagreed strongly with the suggestion of a British diplomat that the warship’s arrival had constituted a ‘stabilising influence’ in the country. He noted that the German cruiser Karlsruhe had maintained a ‘watching brief ’ too, but from afar, despite the greater number of German nationals living in Chile.69 The following year the new C-in-C A&WI raised similar concerns about the use of his ships for such missions. He could not recall a single instance during his time in command of the station when one of his cruisers had actively intervened after making an emergency diversion to a trouble spot, adding that there was little they could achieve anyway under such circumstances. Pragmatically, Vice-Admiral Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax argued that the North American continent, which also lay within his territorial jurisdiction, including the richest of the Dominions, Canada, was of far greater commercial importance. Excepting Argentina, US interests in South America, by contrast, exceeded those of Britain, although he conceded that his country’s trade links were still of significant value. Importantly, and clearly anxious to retain independence of action and decision-making in the face of Foreign Office pressure, he added, ‘If we encourage British representatives to think that a warship will come along every time they whistle for one, the demands will be unceasing.’70 On this occasion, Admiral Drax’s views received short shrift from the Head of M. Branch. In particular, Captain Phillips disagreed with the C-in-C that ‘showing the flag’ was more important than standing by to protect British lives when under threat. He reminded the admiral that there was a clear weight of political responsibility to be shouldered by the Navy and the risk of severe censure if lives were lost. He argued that the mere presence of a warship could exercise a psychological effect on events, even if there was no requirement for

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 86

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

87

its personnel to be actively involved ashore. He remarked with considerable prescience, ‘In these days of demands for disarmament, it is well to be able to point to the use of HM ships for this purpose.’71

Evaluating eight years of Anglo-Chilean naval cooperation So is it correct to suggest that this discrete period between 1925 and 1933 represented a ‘high point’ in the naval relationship between Britain and Chile, and might even be considered the exemplar for good practice in this particular sphere of the Royal Navy’s peacetime responsibilities in support of its country’s foreign relations and commercial ambitions? Using Admiral Fisher’s maxim that the way to ‘neutralise’ competition for foreign warship orders was to strengthen relationships with the client country through a variety of means, it can be argued that all these methods of ‘persuasion’ were utilized and there were tangible gains. These gains can be identified as the large orders for warships, auxiliaries and armaments constructed for Chile in the period 1928–30 together with the equally lucrative amount (£1,113,390) accrued from the reconditioning work undertaken on the battleship Almirante Latorre during roughly the same period at Devonport dockyard. These orders were obtained by private British shipbuilding companies in the face of foreign competition without the benefit of national subsidy. Analysis of the course of events leading to the award of the contracts point to the importance of the longevity of the Anglo-Chilean naval partnership and the roles played by RN officers, including the naval attaché, in helping to secure this business. The significance of a ‘shared’ history, for example, was highlighted when the Head of the Chilean Naval Mission, speaking at the launch of the fourth destroyer, Hyatt, at Southampton in July 1928, reminded his audience that heroism and a steady supply of warships provided key continuities which linked the navies of the two countries.72 But did the revenue gained from these naval orders represent a good return for the expense of maintaining a naval presence in areas such as South America? While it is noteworthy that this particular group of export orders was considerable in relation to the size of the navy concerned, it is understandable that some within the Admiralty considered the export ‘drive’ to South America overall to have been disappointing.73 What contributory effect did the presence of the missions make to the state of Anglo-Chilean naval relations? Captain E. Altham, RN, writing in 1934, gave

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 87

04/12/2013 08:14

88

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

a mixed overall assessment. On the one hand he was depressed to note that the Chilean Navy was ‘still suffering from political intrigues and the vacillating policies of a succession of opportunist ministers’. He perceived that the good work undertaken had been recently undone through the inefficiency of the administration. On the other hand, Altham did offer the possibility that a new and more stable government might encourage a less self-centred naval hierarchy in which a rising generation of naval officers, imbued with ideas learned from the British missions, might address the current problems.74 The Naval Staff ’s evaluation of the Chilean Naval Missions concluded that their work had been undertaken in the face of mounting difficulties and vicissitudes. Nevertheless, they had contributed to the fact that British prestige and influence remained high and, in fact, could not have been improved upon. The Advisory Staff had ensured that every specialist branch, except Navigation, had been modernized and changes had been made to working practices which would ensure that systematic progress could be undertaken. However, there had been disappointments as well, for example with the modernization of their Secretarial and Statistical methodology and, arguably more significant in the long term, ‘… there had been a failure to inspire officers of middle rank (Lieutenants and Lieutenant-Commanders) with a higher degree of the essential qualities for command and responsibility’. In both instances the efforts of the Advisory Staff had been frustrated by what were termed ‘racial characteristics’; the former due to a lack of trust in non-executive officers and a disinclination to decentralize; the latter owing to ‘inherent laziness’ and the fact that no British officer assumed executive control.75 The tenor of this latter remark highlights one of the more intransigent problems facing any mission of this kind at the time involving those with service backgrounds, namely the sensitivity of the staff chosen to undertake these unusual shore appointments. One is left to speculate whether the thinking which drew the DNI to make such generalized assumptions about the Chilean naval personnel says more about the upbringing and quality of education of the Royal Navy officer of the time or should be dismissed simply as a clash of cultures. A good deal has been written about the education of Royal Navy officers in the interwar period and earlier, and about the intellectual merits of those selected for sea and shore posts. For example, Nicholas Rodger has commented that, ‘Whereas in the army, promotion beyond regimental rank was into the Staff, in the Navy the best officers were chosen for sea command, which was the only route to flag rank. The middle ranks of the Naval Staff tended to get whoever was left after the Fleet had made its choice …’.76

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 88

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

89

On the question of maintaining the link with the Chilean Navy, it was noted that not only was it important to provide continuity through regular port visits but that the RN personnel needed to be proactive in terms of issuing special invitations to board their ships in order to demonstrate the qualities of British design, workmanship and material, and other forms of self-advertisement. In this context, it was pointed out that negotiations to dock the new cruisers HMS Exeter and York at Talcahuano for maintenance was arousing considerable local interest.77 An interesting outsider’s assessment of the British naval missions to Chile was provided by the American Consul General, George Messersmith, who wrote a report for the US Government in 1930 in his capacity as ‘Foreign Service Inspector’. In several places he comments on the ‘discreet’ behaviour and nature of the British contingent in its activities which had been confined to giving direction and advice rather than instruction. This approach had extended to negotiations concerning the purchase of naval vessels. In this respect, in a remark which made him unpopular in political circles in Washington, Messersmith applauded the ‘correct’ manner of the British naval officers, adding that ‘their attitude has not been obnoxious or improper as has been the case in certain other naval missions’. As the only two other naval missions extant in South America were US ones to Brazil and Peru, his inference is inescapable. He ended on a pessimistic note, describing the British as ‘almost an integral part of the Chilean naval tradition’, adding that if another country was ever to be successful in securing a mission in Chile it was unlikely to be the United States.78 The revision of the policy by the Admiralty Board with respect to access to naval training in the UK by foreign officers must also be regarded as a clear indication of the importance attached not only to the securing of naval export orders but also to the contribution to British prestige in an area of the world where economic influence was on the wane. The fact that it was the Admiralty rather than the Foreign Office that took the lead over the matter of charging for courses is a further, interesting reflection of the priorities of the respective government departments. It is also of note that it was the needs of Chile, rather than any other country with which Britain had commercial dealings of this kind at the time, which seems to have been the dominant factor in these matters. The re-establishment of the South American Division of the A&WI Squadron had ensured that the White Ensign was seen in all the important South American seaports on a regular basis. An account of one such visit not only underlines the value of the annual deployment during nine months of the year but also brings neatly together several facets of the Fisher approach which had to be adopted

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 89

04/12/2013 08:14

90

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

if shipbuilding contracts were to be secured and good naval relationships maintained. In his report of a visit by HM ships Durban and Dauntless to the naval base at Talcahuano in January 1932, Commodore Lane-Poole comments on the innumerable acts of kindness shown by the Chilean Navy Commanderin-Chief, Rear-Admiral Calixto Rogers. Unsurprisingly, it was fond, personal memories which lay at the heart of the matter. It transpired that this officer had served for a period as a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy and had commanded Almirante Latorre during its refit in Britain and therefore considered that he owed the service a profound debt of gratitude.79

Conclusion The initiatives introduced principally through the auspices of the Admiralty in the latter half of the 1920s were directed towards reviving and then maintaining Britain’s prestige in Chile, which was undoubtedly the most receptive and ‘anglicized’ South American country at the time. The commercial return for this ‘interest’, purely in terms of warship building contracts, was excellent and naval relations were as close and secure as ever. The reputation of the Royal Navy, therefore, remained high in the face of the internal disorders which beset the Chilean Navy during the same period. Unfortunately, in the wider economic sense, Britain continued to lose ground to the United States although the Chileans’ sentimental attachment to Britain encouraged the notion that the trend could be reversed through greater application. Rory Miller argues that the British themselves did not regard their position as irreversible despite the US ‘capture’ of the markets and its adoption as the principal source of foreign investment.80 The efforts required by the Royal Navy variously to bolster the fortunes of the British export drive, to meet the requirements of the Chilean Navy and, particularly during the period of political unrest in the early 1930s, to support the British expatriate population, were considerable. What is interesting to note is that the impetus for change during this time emanated from within the Navy itself. As the period of Britain’s world maritime supremacy was drawing to a close, the long process towards a recognition within the service that Britain no longer ‘ruled the waves’ had begun, hastened by an acceptance of the ‘one power standard’ and the strictures imposed by the interwar international naval agreements to limit warship tonnages.81 Instead of simply adopting a defensive and reactionary posture in response, the Navy in this instance sought to adapt.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 90

04/12/2013 08:14



A Case Study

91

Albeit reluctantly, it was acknowledged that there were valuable functions that Royal Navy warships and personnel could undertake in peacetime other than those directly related to preparing for war.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 91

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 92

04/12/2013 08:14

4

Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s

It can be argued that, in relation to the interwar period as a whole, the Chilean case described in the previous chapter was the exception. In the late 1920s and early 1930s, from a worldwide perspective and despite the efforts of the major private shipbuilding firms actively supported by the British Admiralty, naval export sales generally proved elusive and were frequently lost to foreign competition. The root cause of the comparative failure of the UK to monopolize, as it had done prior to World War One, was bound up with the controversial matter of Britain’s own naval replacement programme, particularly during the late 1920s.

Naval arms limitation and naval sales to Argentina and Chile The effects of the interwar naval conferences have been widely discussed with respect to their subsequent impact on the development of the major fleets of the world. On the other hand, much less attention has been paid to the ways in which the minor navies were also affected, for instance by the terms of the 1936 London Naval Treaty. Exports were hard-won, despite the prominence accorded by Britain to regions such as South America, exemplified by the allocation of a separate South America Division of the America and West Indies Squadron, a major part of whose role was to encourage naval sales. However, prospective contracts had to be approved first by the government. Both national policy and international agreements proved to be stumbling blocks in the face of an apparent willingness on the part of several South American navies to do business with British shipbuilders. Significantly this was shown to be the case in relation to two of the major navies, Argentina and Chile, where there was mixed success during the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 93

04/12/2013 08:14

94

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

interwar years. Despite a lingering but persistent dispute over the sovereignty of the Falkland Islands and the islands of South Georgia and the South Shetlands, relations between Britain and Argentina, and their respective navies in particular, remained sound and friendly throughout. Although British shipbuilding companies failed to win significant orders in 1926 as part of a large Argentine naval modernization plan, they were successful in the late 1930s. By contrast, the Chilean naval programme, after being partially completed in the 1920s, failed in the vital matter of having two heavily armoured, 8-inch gun cruisers built in Britain in the 1930s. In the case of both Argentina and Chile, this failure can be traced to the influence of political will in Britain to adhere to national policy with respect to arms sales and, separately, to the wording and spirit of the international naval treaties. Similarly, political considerations inhibited the realization of Brazilian ambitions in the interwar years. As British naval influence declined following withdrawal from the region in 1922, Brazil’s ties with its northern neighbour became increasingly close. However, as with Britain, the United States found it impossible to assist in relation to the Brazilian modernization plan for several reasons. It could not compete with foreign shipbuilding companies on price, it was committed to the limitation on naval expansion agreed as part of the interwar treaties and it could not provide Brazil with the larger naval vessels it sought despite the latter country’s desire to obtain its warships from America. Finally, there was no desire to establish a permanent naval presence in South America other than through naval missions.

Failure and then success in Argentina The loss of what was regarded as the principal components of the first phase in an extensive modernization programme for the Argentine Navy in 1926–7 was an early example of the effect of rival foreign bidders operating in advantageous circumstances. Argentina’s naval expansion ambitions, authorized by the Weapons Procurement Act of 1908, had been partially thwarted by World War One. Although the completion of two Rivadavia Class battleships in the USA was unaffected, only four of an original 12 destroyers ordered from European companies were finally delivered. A speculative and quite unrealistic attempt to acquire war-surplus RN cruisers, destroyers and submarines in 1919 via a private intermediary failed when it was revealed that the business was not to be handled through diplomatic channels.1

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 94

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s

95

It took a further seven years before the necessary legislation for a naval modernization programme was passed through Congress in Buenos Aires. Successive ‘State of the Nation’ reports between 1922 and 1928 described Argentine foreign policy intentions as focusing on maintaining friendly relations with other nations as well as supporting a reasonable degree of military readiness. Argentine naval thought at the time envisaged a reasonable degree of readiness. This was based on the maintenance of a ‘one power-plus’ standard whereby the fleet would be powerful enough to have superiority over any individual neighbour and in a position to act to deny any concentration of force in time of tension or war.2 In separately reviewing the lessons learned from World War One, all three of the major regional naval powers, Argentina, Brazil and Chile, remained convinced of the supremacy of the powerful surface fleet. In this respect, Argentine naval officers were concerned about their country’s inferiority compared with Brazil and Chile. As a result, Argentina’s two battleships returned to the US for major refits which included conversion from coal to oil and the installation of new fire-control systems.3 In 1922 the Argentine Navy Minister was commissioned to undertake a study of his country’s naval requirements. This was to lead eventually to the Naval Procurement Act of 1926 which required 170 million Argentine pesos (about £15 million) to be spent over 10 years. The programme called for tenders to be issued for the construction of three cruisers, six destroyers, six submarines and two survey vessels together with improvements to be made to shore facilities.4 Unsurprisingly, there was considerable foreign interest shown in this order, including from British shipbuilders. Cammell Laird’s proposal to build ‘destroyer leaders’ received serious consideration judging by the request made in late 1926 for further details about proposed displacement, speed and cost of armament. Scotts also provided some very precise information for a cruiser design. In the outcome, neither company was successful. Two 9,000 tons Vienticinco de Mayo Class cruisers were built by Ansaldo at Sestri and Leghorn, based on the Italian Navy’s Trento Class, while two destroyers, originally destined for the Spanish Navy, were purchased while under construction at Cartagena.5 The contract for four of the six submarines proposed under the Procurement Act was also awarded to Cantieri Navali Tosi. By way of compensation, J. S. White of Cowes built three modified Scott Class destroyers for the Argentine Navy while Hawthorn-Leslie constructed two small survey vessels and two tugs.6 There is no hard evidence to suggest that diplomatic tensions between Britain and Argentina worked directly against the fortunes of British shipbuilding firms

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 95

04/12/2013 08:14

96

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

at this time. However, that is not to say that the dispute over sovereignty of the Falkland Islands and the Dependencies had been forgotten by Argentina. In 1925 the South American country laid claim to the South Orkney Island Group. Two years later the Foreign Office decided that an official protest should be issued against the erection of an Argentine wireless station on Laurie Island. In this case the timing of the delivery of this protest was considered important. It was delayed until the Admiralty Director of Naval Intelligence advised that orders for the most valuable part of the Argentine naval programme would not be awarded to British companies either immediately or in the near future.7 The potential for the matter of the wireless station to develop into an international crisis was increased by the decision of the Argentine Government to inform the Universal Postal Union that it claimed de jure and de facto jurisdiction over the South Orkney Islands and South Georgia and de jure jurisdiction in the case of the Falklands. In a separate move in 1928 Argentina authorized postal and telegraphic communication with the Falkland Islands to be established. Yet at the same time, in drawing international attention to the matter, it asserted that the gesture did not ‘diminish in the slightest degree the Argentine right of sovereignty over the Falkland Islands and that it cannot be invoked by any country to the detriment of such right’.8 The newly appointed British Ambassador to Buenos Aires at the time, Sir Malcolm Robertson, in communications with both the Foreign Office and the Governor of the Falkland Islands, advocated a muted approach to the matter of the wireless station. His conviction about British rights to sovereignty over the South Orkney Group had been changed after examining a Foreign Office memorandum of December 1910, which ‘considerably changed my earlier view as to the flimsiness of the Argentine claim. I feel it is important that, as we are not in a strong position of actually occupying the islands, we should take no action that would bring the issue to a head.’ On the other hand, Lawrence Freedman claims that in 1910 the Foreign Office had debated ceding Laurie Island to Argentina, not because of doubts regarding Britain’s sovereign rights, but as a goodwill gesture and because it was of no strategic use.9 Argentine agitation over the matter continued sporadically throughout the 1930s, particularly through the press or via political speeches. However, the importance to both countries of trade links and British commercial interests within the country served to keep such disagreements at a low level.10 The idea of handing Laurie Island to Argentina was seemingly finally rejected in a 1937 FO confidential paper, ‘Falkland Islands and Dependencies’. This document was written in response to a despatch the previous year from the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 96

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s

97

British Ambassador in Buenos Aires, who suggested that in view of the growing irredentist movement in Argentina regarding the country’s territorial rights he would recommend the cession of Laurie Island in return for recognition of the British claim to the Falkland Islands. The Foreign Office, in rejecting the suggestion, made the point that British arguments over the sovereignty of the Falklands was ‘less weak than at one time supposed’. It advocated the view that occupation for over 100 years meant entitlement by prescription. Therefore, admission of Argentina’s legal rights through cession of Laurie Island was too high a price to be paid for ending that particular controversy.11 No suggestion seems to have considered during the interwar period, or indeed immediately prior to World War One, that the Falkland Islands were in danger of an unannounced invasion and occupation by Argentine forces. Any concern for the defence of the islands centred on the apparent reluctance of the inhabitants to take responsibility for the protection of the Admiralty coal and later the oil deposits used for refuelling HM ships. In the 1930s, the general vulnerability of Port Stanley to a pre-emptive strike by an enemy cruiser, presumably in the event of a world war, was the primary concern.12 In the meantime relationships between naval personnel of both countries remained cordial during the South America Division’s regular visits to Argentine ports. An intelligence report in 1930 by the commanding officer of HMS Delhi, Captain W. E. C. Tait, presented an insight into the then current state of the Argentine Navy, its personnel and the future of its relationship with the Royal Navy. ‘Remarks on Officers and Men of the Argentine Navy’ was written during a protracted visit to the main Argentine naval base at Puerto Belgrano in the course of the Delhi’s circumnavigation of South America in 1930. Captain Tait’s knowledge of the Spanish language and the amount of time he was able to spend socializing with Argentine naval officers both at the base and in Buenos Aires enabled him to gain an insight into and an impression of a range of topics including the current state of the South American navy.13 Tait found these senior ranking officers to be either pro-British or neutral in their outlook. Most seemed to be anti-American despite the increasing influence of the US, which had seen an increasing number of officers receiving theoretical and practical training with the United States Navy. Argentine officers had been to sea in US Navy warships; others had been trained in naval aviation and in submarines. One senior officer who had spent six years in the US considered that his navy was becoming progressively ‘Americanized’. Everyday routines, methods of training and gunnery practice were all being conducted in an ‘American-approved manner’. Comparing receptiveness to foreigners aboard

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 97

04/12/2013 08:14

98

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

US and RN warships, these officers had found a greater openness in the United States regarding access to fleet tactics and confidentiality.14 On the matter of countering the perceived increase of this influence, Captain Tait gained the impression that, although the matter of a British naval mission to Argentina had been discussed in the past, it did not seem likely to be suggested as an option in the near future. Objections to such a move centred on the then current RN naval mission in Chile. It was feared that issues of confidentiality would arise if there were missions in both countries. It was conceded that it was more logical to accept a US naval mission, and several junior officers, especially those who had been trained in the US, were advocating such a move. However, senior officers, citing the cases of Brazil and Peru, were of the opinion that once the Americans were in the country it was difficult to get rid of them.15 Matters such as the dispute over the Falkland Islands and the comparative failure of British shipbuilders to secure key contracts were not mentioned in Tait’s report. By the end of the 1930s, at the expense of what Robert Scheina describes as ‘considerable national sacrifice’, Argentina had managed to accomplish the naval programme set out in the National Procurement Act of 1926 almost in its entirety. Seven modified British ‘G’ Class destroyers were ordered from a consortium of British shipbuilders: John Brown, Cammell Laird and VickersArmstrong. Despite the fact that the contract coincided with rearmament in Britain, all the destroyers were launched and commissioned in the period 1937–8. A light cruiser, based in design on the contemporary Arethusa Class and specially configured to double as a training ship, was also launched in 1937. This ship did not commission in the Argentine Navy for a further two years owing to the pressures exerted on the Vickers-Armstrong yard at Barrow-inFurness to complete RN rearmament programmes.16

Chile’s quest for a heavy cruiser and the 1936 Naval Treaty The virtual completion of the naval plan allowed Argentina to secure its aim of pre-eminence among the South American navies. According to Robert Scheina, at the outbreak of World War Two Argentina ‘regarded herself as the rival of the United States for the political leadership of the western hemisphere’.17 This sense of achievement was not shared in naval circles by Argentina’s rival on the other side of the Andes. During the second half of the 1930s futile attempts were made by Chile to purchase modern replacements for its elderly cruisers from Britain, which hitherto had been its principal shipbuilding source. Externally

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 98

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s

99

imposed political pressures were to interfere with what should have been an untroubled replacement programme and a lucrative contract for the successful British shipyard. The resulting mismatch between British and Chilean proposals to resolve this issue forced the latter to look to alternatives options. This was to lead indirectly to a strengthening of the naval relationship with the United States. The disagreements concerning the cruiser replacement programme were to place a strain on the naval association between Britain and Chile which was to remain unresolved during the war years. As a consequence of the 1929 world financial crisis Chile’s naval budget fell by 50 per cent, resulting in a reduction in personnel from 11,000 to 6,700 and the suspension of all exercises at sea between 1933 and 1935. Half of the fleet was relegated to reserve ship status. By 1934, the US naval attaché reported that the ‘Active Fleet’ consisted of one venerable armoured cruiser, three destroyers and three submarines. By contrast, there were encouraging signs that Chile’s economy was recovering.18 In 1925, during more prosperous times, the Chilean naval authorities had first registered an intention to order two or perhaps three 8,000–10,000-ton cruisers fitted with ‘heavy artillery’ as part of a comprehensive modernization programme which also included destroyers and submarines.19 Although Chile was to achieve a substantial portion of its objective over the next three to four years when six destroyers, three submarines and a large depot ship were all launched in British shipyards, by the mid-1930s its three remaining cruisers, all dating from the last decade of the nineteenth century, had not been replaced. The actions taken by Chile’s neighbours to strengthen their navies provided the impetus for the 1920s modernization plan to be completed. Peru’s modest interwar programme saw the construction of four new US-built submarines and the acquisition of two second-hand destroyers from Estonia.20 However, it was the building of ARA La Argentina and seven destroyers, related above, which ‘aroused the envy of the Chileans’, who then set about making stringent efforts to find the necessary money for new naval construction. Details of an international bidding process for the construction of two 8-inch gun cruisers, with displacements of 8,800 tons each, were announced in Santiago although there was no evidence in the 1937 Congressional budget of funding for a rearmament programme. In terms of dimension and armament these were to be powerful vessels, similar in concept to the Deutschland Class ‘pocket-battleships’ which were entering service with the German Navy at the time.21 Although undoubtedly influenced by the progress made with the Argentine programme, the configuration of the planned Chilean cruisers revealed a quite

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 99

04/12/2013 08:14

100

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

different set of priorities influenced by their expected employment in a future conflict. Whereas the Italian-designed Argentine cruisers favoured high speeds at the expense of more substantial hull structures, conversely the Chilean model sacrificed speed in order to gain greater protection. At the time of the announcement it was fully anticipated that a British company, most likely Vickers-Armstrong, would be a very strong contender for this contract. One of the methods subsequently used by the Chilean Naval Staff to try to persuade the RN to its point of view regarding the design, and thereby to attempt to influence any decision made in the UK about construction, was to bring the latter into its confidence by revealing the tactics it had devised for a decisive engagement with the Argentine Navy in time of war. During the course of a carefully orchestrated ‘chance encounter’ over luncheon during a visit to Valparaiso by the RN cruiser HMS Exeter in October 1937, a senior Chilean naval officer had divulged his country’s battle-plans to a British staff officer, Lieutenant-Commander Brading, although Captain Torres was careful not to mention the enemy country by name. The commanding officer of the Chilean battleship Almirante Latorre and the Chief of the Naval Staff, Admiral Merino, had sat either side of Captain Torres and Lt-Cdr Brading during the lunch, presumably to add credence to this confidential conversation, but had not intervened. The true intentions behind the Chilean Navy wishing to explain its secret war plans were revealed the next day when Torres told Brading that senior officers were ‘extremely anxious’ that the Royal Navy should fully understand the Chilean Navy’s position. Although the nature of the envisaged battle and the tactics proposed appeared to be more in keeping with the naval engagements of World War One, both the Argentine and the Chilean battleships had been extensively modernized during the past decade and therefore represented powerful adversaries. It was thought that the hypothetical engagement would be fought at some considerable distance from each side’s respective bases, almost certainly in the disputed area south of Cape Horn, and would involve all the major units from both fleets. The single Chilean 14-inch gun battleship, Almirante Latorre, would engage one of the two 12-inch gun Argentine battleships at extreme range. In order to prevent the second enemy battleship from carrying out ‘an uninterrupted shoot’ at Almirante Latorre during this engagement, it was intended that one or two Chilean 8-inch gun cruisers would close to within 18,000 metres in order to disrupt enemy fire, divert attention away from the battleship and, hopefully, inflict damage on the Argentine vessel.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 100

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 101

Therefore, cruisers of 8,000–9,000 tons with 8-inch guns and good armour protection were required for this task. They did not require high speeds. Lieutenant-Commander Brading pointed out that the type of ship described by Captain Torres resembled the old-style armoured cruisers which none of the major naval powers was constructing at the time. The latter replied that he knew that the ship would have to be specially designed for the purpose.22 Despite this seemingly authoritative discourse on future Chilean naval strategy, British naval intelligence was aware of a sharp division of opinion within the Chilean naval establishment about the size and type of cruiser required. A communication from the British Naval Attaché for South America in September 1936 had revealed that, while the Director General of the Navy and his staff at Valparaiso had favoured the 8-inch gun design, the Naval Secretary in the Ministry of Defence based in Santiago, Captain Troncoso, had been championing the purchase of a cruiser of 6,000 tons with nine 6-inch guns, a design broadly similar to the Argentine Italian-built cruisers. It was also reported that the Italian Government was prepared to offer attractive long-term credit for the purchase of such a ship. Unsurprisingly perhaps, Captain Troncoso had been naval attaché in Rome prior to his current appointment. Moreover, the Captain was reported as being a close confidante of President Alessandri. According to Emilio Meneses, another faction within the naval staff was advocating the acquisition of naval bomber planes instead of cruisers. Quite how the Chilean naval air arm with little previous combat experience, other than its involvement during the latter stages of the Naval Mutiny in 1931, might have played a decisive role in a naval battle south of Cape Horn is not explained.23 The whole matter was further complicated by the fact that the views of the naval staff in Valparaiso did not necessarily correlate with government policy in Santiago. The rearmament legislation which was passing through Congress in December 1937 was expected by the Navy to raise funds to pay for the purchase of the cruiser(s) through a 10 per cent tax on copper profits. In the past, the monies taken by the American copper producing companies had been a particular ‘bone of contention’ for the Chilean Government, and this constituted a minor victory. Moreover, the general upturn in copper exports, buoyed by the increased demand for the metal by the world’s defence industries, represented a welcome boost for the economy.24 However, it was disclosed confidentially to the British Ambassador in Santiago that it was doubtful if sufficient money would be forthcoming from this source. Moreover, although the bill carried the tacit support of the government, its real objective was ‘to keep the Navy quiet’.25 None the less, by January 1938 the legislation had been passed

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 101

04/12/2013 08:14

102

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

by both Houses of Congress and there followed an intense nine-month period during which Chile attempted to find a country willing to construct its cruisers. The signing of the Second London Naval Treaty in March 1936 had effectively ended the Chilean Navy’s hopes of obtaining such warships from Britain.26 The ramifications stemming from Britain’s determination to uphold both the substance and the spirit of the legislation were to have a serious and lasting impact on Anglo-Chilean naval relations. The effect was still being felt in the decade after World War Two. It also induced considerable tensions between London and Santiago. The Ambassador, Victor Cavendish-Bentinck, perceived the Foreign Office’s increasing intransigence as a sign that his country was preparing to forsake the interests of an important supporter and traditional friend on the South-West Pacific coast. The signatories to the 1936 London Naval Treaty had ruled that no ‘light surface vessels’, in this case cruisers, carrying a gun with a calibre exceeding 6.1 inch and no light surface vessels with a standard displacement exceeding 8,000 tons could be laid down before January 1943. Moreover, Article 22 of the Treaty stated that no warships of this kind could be disposed of ‘by gift, sale or any mode of transfer’, thus ruling out the possibility of a country such as Chile acquiring a second-hand cruiser.27 Thus, neither the terms of the Treaty nor its timing favoured the Chilean Navy’s cause. The proposed heavy cruiser was precluded at the lower end of the so-called ‘zone of no construction’ between 8,000 and 17,500 tons. In fact, the relevant article in the Treaty was not deliberately aimed at a minor naval power such as Chile. It was intended instead to curb the construction of what was described as ‘a superior type of cruiser being built in the guise of a capital ship’, such as the innovative Deutschland Class.28 The exact wording of the London Treaty itself, and the time taken for its complicated terms to be understood by all parties, inevitably made for misinterpretation. The initial approaches by Chile had coincided almost exactly with the signing of the Treaty. As soon as this was known, it was questioned whether or not a building contract could be completed and signed between the ending of the Washington Treaty date and the commencement of this fresh agreement. This idea was promptly rejected. In January 1938, with the necessary finances in place, the Chileans invited a number of countries to tender for the contract. The FO immediately stated that the cruiser could not be constructed in Britain under the terms of the London Treaty although it did confirm that the building of a 6-inch gun ship would not contravene this agreement.29 The Chilean Navy’s response that it was ‘almost convinced that the ships could be built in the UK, if His Majesty’s Government should so desire, in

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 102

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 103

spite of the London Treaty’ demonstrated a general lack of appreciation of the significance of the agreement from a country geographically distanced from the international tensions that threatened world peace in 1938. As far as the navy was concerned, Britain was its traditional friend and, in the past, the country had been accorded special favours, for example regarding the training of its personnel. The American Department at the FO became increasingly frustrated at what it perceived as their Ambassador’s apparent inability to make the British position clear to the Chileans. For his part, Cavendish-Bentinck viewed the impasse between the British and Chilean positions over the matter as ‘calamitous’. At this juncture he found a useful ally in the Department of Overseas Trade, which declared itself ‘reluctant to see this prospective order abandoned to competitors in countries which are not hampered by a similar convention’.30 The Admiralty, equally anxious not to lose the possibility of securing the contract, suggested an alternative strategy whereby British shipbuilders would be permitted to tender for the contract in anticipation of the collapse of the cruiser building ‘holiday’. There was considerable opposition to this proposal by the FO who argued that partner signatories such as the USA and France would perceive such action as contravening the spirit, if not the letter, of their treaty obligations.31 By early April 1938, Foreign Office concerns began to focus on Italy, which had emerged as an alternative contender for the contract. Italy was not at the time a signatory to the Treaty. The British Ambassador, Lord Perth, was instructed to remind the Italian Minister of Foreign Affairs, in the strongest possible terms, about the implications of an end to the cruiser holiday which might arise as a consequence of his government agreeing to build the Chilean 8-inch gun cruisers. An internal department memo, dated 8 April, encapsulated the centrality of this issue in the eyes of the Foreign Office: The 8-inch cruiser holiday is the core of the treaty – far more important than battleships or anything else in it. Agreement on this class of vessel was only secured with gt. (sic) difficulty, and the danger of a subsequent breakdown has never been very distant. The construction of 2 such vessels in Italy, which they’d seize in the event of war, might well tip the balance.32

In the meantime, relations between the American Department and the Ambassador were becoming ever more strained, even descending to the level of individual criticism and expressions of personal angst. In a letter to the RN attaché, based at the time in Buenos Aires, Cavendish-Bentinck vented his frustration at what he perceived as the intransigence of his superiors in London

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 103

04/12/2013 08:14

104

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

who were apparently unprepared to explore a possible loophole in the naval treaty that might allow the cruisers to be constructed in the UK after all. He declaimed in quasi-biblical tones, ‘If those who have eyes to see and ears to hear will neither see nor hear and wilfully hand over this enormous stretch of the western coast of South America to our rivals, I do not see how I can prevent it.’ The letter was deliberately copied to London. The Ambassador’s emotional travail is plain in an accompanying personal note to the Head of the American Department, Sir Jock Balfour: ‘This is just to let you know how the matter strikes me out here. I have laboured in vain. I have offered my strength for nought.’ Balfour’s sober and considered reply to this outburst reminded CavendishBentinck that Britain’s overall strategic interests transcended the loss of a cruiser contract with Chile. While this was an entirely predictable and plausible response, it nevertheless represented a turning-point in the Anglo-Chilean naval association. For the first time since the outbreak of World War One, when the Royal Navy had commandeered Chilean vessels under construction in Britain, a purely political obstacle had been placed in the path of the relationship.33 Once the decision had been taken that it was vital to prevent Chile’s 8-inch gun cruiser from being built by any of the Treaty countries including Britain, every effort was then made to stop the contract being awarded to a non-signatory state instead which might have the licence and the capability to construct such a vessel.34 This was to add a further complication to an already strained state of affairs. As noted above, in January 1938 private tenders for the construction of two 8-inch gun cruisers had been issued by Chile through agents of shipbuilding firms in Britain, the United States, France, Italy, Germany and the Netherlands. Not all these countries had signed the Treaty at the time. In addition, there were possibilities that Japan and the Scandinavian countries, Sweden, Finland and Denmark, might also feature as possible contenders. The Chilean Navy proceeded to explore a variety of options to take advantage of this less than ‘watertight’ international agreement. One proposal was for the ships’ hulls to be constructed in the Netherlands and the armament by Vickers-Armstrong in Britain. For a brief period France, one of the major London Treaty signatories, was claimed to be an interested party. Later, speculation circulated about renewed interest being shown by Italy and by the armaments firm Krupp in Germany. The FO became ever more irritated as each enquiry and rumour was faithfully reported by a ‘wounded’ Cavendish-Bentinck in South America. Internal memoranda declared that it was ‘hopeless to say anything more to the (Santiago) Embassy’ which only provided ‘madcap suggestions’, while the naval attaché’s ’idiot remark’ regarding Italy demonstrated his inability to grasp the significance of the situation.35

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 104

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 105

By July, however, Chile’s remaining options had been systematically reduced to Finland, Sweden and the Netherlands. This had been achieved through careful lobbying and bilateral negotiations between Britain and the non-signatory nations. Britain’s position as a major power was utilized to full effect, as this FO letter later admitted: Therefore, quite apart from any legal question as to whether or not it is technically proper for the vessels, apart from the guns, or for the guns apart from the vessels, to be constructed in countries which have accepted or are about to accept the provisions of the Naval Treaties, it is inevitable that the influence of His Majesty’s Government will be utilized to prevent the construction of such a vessel.36

In November 1938, on his return to Chile following a lengthy spell of home leave, Cavendish-Bentinck detected signs of an unfriendly attitude towards Britain which was particularly prevalent among some junior naval officers. It was alleged that, having been unable to build the cruisers, Britain had prevented Germany and other countries from so doing, and this was to be regretted, ‘in view of the long-standing friendly traditions hitherto existing between the Chilean and British navies’.37 Despite the worsening diplomatic tensions, the Royal Navy remained ostensibly the established, close ally of the Chilean Navy. However, it appeared that Britain had become hidebound by the terms of the London Naval Treaty. This was denying the Chilean Navy the modernization it so acutely desired, coupled with the fact that a cadre of Chilean officers were now less favourably disposed towards their Navy’s traditional ally. Anti-British feelings thus served to exacerbate the seriousness of a succession of other disagreements that arose between the two services both prior to and after the outbreak of World War Two. The issue of the reinstatement of a Naval Mission and the request for naval training on HM ships which were part of the Chilean strategy to encourage Britain to make Chile the exception to the rule, as it had done in the past, were cases in point. The C-in-C of the Chilean Navy’s seagoing vessels, Admiral Merino, had initially raised the question of the naval mission with the Royal Navy Commodore, South America Division during the visit of HMS Exeter in October 1937. It was pointed out to Commodore Harwood that an historical precedent had been set. After all, a similar approach to the Prince of Wales in 1925 had resulted in the naval missions of the 1920s being arranged. Merino proposed that a mission of a technical nature should be sent, comprising

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 105

04/12/2013 08:14

106

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

a Captain to lecture at the Naval War College and a Gunnery Specialist of Commander rank. These officers would be there to advise rather than to assume any direct control. This had been a successful feature of the previous missions. The Chilean Navy perceived itself as a mature and technically proficient service, therefore basic levels of instruction were considered unnecessary.38 Admiral Merino also enquired about naval officer training in the UK. He was personally opposed to officers attending courses abroad, as he considered that ‘they come back with too grand ideas and very much above themselves’, but he was desirous that his men might be granted the opportunity to serve aboard RN ships as they had done in the past. He hoped that the current ruling that precluded this from happening could be relaxed in the case of Chile, adding that his officers had already been offered berths on US warships.39 On this occasion, however, the British Naval Staff in late 1937 ruled that foreign officers would not be allowed on seagoing vessels or to attend the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth, and the Chileans withdrew their request for a naval mission early the following year.40 Commodore Harwood, in the course of his despatch regarding his meeting with Merino, had pointed out that the admiral had been voicing a personal opinion. This fact, coupled with the knowledge that Merino was not the most senior serving officer in the navy, lent weight to the argument that on important matters concerning future naval policy it was necessary to await governmental approval. Although the true purpose of Admiral Merino’s requests for a mission and for naval training might be questioned, nevertheless these two provisions had been essential components of the Anglo-Chilean association in the past and their removal from the equation was of particular long-term significance. In addition, a series of other minor disagreements were to come to light in the course of the next five years which, in the shorter term and taken together, pointed to an unfortunate souring of relationships between the navies of the two countries at the time. Naturally the Foreign Office played a leading part in the Chilean cruiser replacement issue. The fact that this matter was essentially of diplomatic concern meant that the Royal Navy’s role was limited to providing technical advice over the proposed design of the cruiser and functioning as a liaison with its South American naval attaché. In truth, the Admiralty retained a sceptical regard for the efficacy of the London Naval Treaty. Roskill notes that the Naval Staff had debated whether or not to advise the British Government to ratify the Treaty and had ‘concluded unenthusiastically’ in favour of so doing. Roskill’s own view, admittedly with the value of hindsight, is that it was not difficult to

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 106

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 107

regard the whole proceedings as ‘a colossal waste of time and effort’ since the Treaty when finally signed did not have any significant success in achieving the naval limitation for which the conference was convened.41 Despite these misgivings, the Admiralty supported the FO in its efforts to uphold the Treaty. A strong, technically-based argument was mounted, suggesting that even if an 8,000-ton, 8-inch gun cruiser could be constructed for Chile, it would be inferior in terms of rate of fire when compared with a 6-inch gun ship which might be built to comply with Treaty specifications. It was suggested that the brand-new Fiji Class design, which was basically a slightly less capable version of the much-admired Southampton Class already in service, would provide a satisfactory answer to Chilean requirements.42 Of course, the Royal Navy was not driven by altruistic motives in offering the Chilean Navy its latest design of 6-inch gun cruiser. The prospect of a foreign contract was still considered to be important enough to disrupt the domestic naval shipbuilding programme, even close to the outbreak of war, provided that an agreement could be reached on the size and specifications of the vessel. In March 1939, the Controller of the Navy pointed out that a ‘ship under construction for a foreign power is potentially available to this country in case of war’. No doubt the Third Sea Lord had in mind the experience of the First World War, when, for example, Britain commandeered two 28,000-ton superdreadnoughts and four large destroyers which were being built in Britain at the time for the Chilean Navy.43 However, by April of that year it was confirmed that the Chilean Navy, having briefly considered the 6-inch gun ship, was once again definitely set on acquiring an 8-inch gun cruiser. Six months later, Cavendish-Bentinck was reporting that calls for fresh tenders for this type of ship had been made in Santiago to firms in the USA and Europe and that the Italians had demonstrated initial interest.44 The onset of World War Two effectively prevented the Chileans from pursuing their aims as the major shipbuilding firms became totally committed to wartime construction and repair programmes. Thus their cruiser replacement plans, already some 15 years old, were forced to be shelved.

Courting the USA Although the United States ostensibly remained a peripheral ‘player’ in the matter of Chile’s quest in the period 1937–40, nevertheless the Chilean Government and its naval staff, through various ploys, continuously sought its

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 107

04/12/2013 08:14

108

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

active involvement. The firm but sympathetic manner with which the US naval attaché in Santiago, Commander A. S. Merrill, in particular dealt with a series of proposals calling for American intervention helped lay the foundations for the naval partnership between the two countries which quickly formed in the immediate aftermath of World War Two. The involvement of the influential and respected national El Mercurio newspaper was one way in which Chile sought to publicize its dilemma over the cruisers in view of the rebuttal by the most likely contender for the contract. In August 1937 it made known the fact that the Italian company Ansaldo was making a particular effort to win the contract, in this case to construct two 9,000-ton 6-inch gun cruisers. It was suggested that the Ansaldo bid might be reduced by 10 per cent. It was thought that this might be enough to force the British Government to subsidise its home private yards in order to compete. Merrill was told that the Chilean Navy would prefer the vessels to be built either in Britain or in the United States. He reported that the British Government was attaching great importance to securing the contract even in the face of its current disagreements with the Chileans over the size of the vessels. The US naval attaché had received enquiries from the Chilean Navy as to whether a United States shipbuilding company would be interested in the contract, especially as the 6-inch gun design which was now being explored would not contravene the London Treaty.45 It is evident from Merrill’s account that he felt under a good deal of psychological pressure over this matter. He strayed from the normal practice of simply reporting events to venture the opinion that the importance of having the cruisers constructed in the US would justify the granting of a government subsidy to interested home shipbuilders in order to make these yards more competitive with their European counterparts. During 1938, the pressure on the United States either to intervene or to participate in the matter by influencing a US shipyard to forward a bid continued unabated. The newly appointed Chilean C-in-C, Vice-Admiral Allard, paid a visit to the US naval attaché in October of that year. On this occasion, while intimating that both he and the majority of his naval staff favoured an American built cruiser, he ‘deprecated the additional cost and the fact that the shipyards in the United States did not appear to be interested’. Even this candid and forthright approach failed to elicit the desired response.46 The likelihood of any real progress being made over the matter faded as the war in Europe loomed and US shipyards became heavily involved in the domestic rearmament programme. However, in October 1939 the possibility

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 108

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 109

was raised that Chile might be able to lease or purchase second-hand US Navy warships. Despite some preliminary discussions on the matter during which the Chileans quickly showed an interest in Northampton and New Orleans Class cruisers, this plan also failed to materialize.47

Brazil’s naval expansion plans and US ideas for mutual defence cooperation Following its decision to dispense with a British naval mission in 1922, Brazil’s ties with the United States were greatly strengthened by the appointment of Rear-Admiral Vogelgesang, USN, as technical advisor on the Brazilian General Staff. Two years later Vogelgesang, at the behest of his immediate employers, submitted an ambitious 10-year naval plan to the Brazilian Minister of Marine. It provided for the building of 15,000 tons of destroyers, 6,000 tons of submarines, 60,000 tons of cruisers and 70,000 tons of battleships.48 The reaction from Washington was immediate and firm. Such an extensive plan, which would almost certainly include the construction of two 35,000-ton battleships, would be in direct contravention of US foreign policy towards the region which advocated moderation with respect to the acquisition of naval armaments. Moreover the US Government’s reason for sending a naval mission to Brazil was to prevent other countries from so doing. In a later despatch, it was made clear that the United States would rather withdraw its mission altogether than be party to a naval expansion programme which, if realized, would place Brazil in a superior position to both Argentina and Chile, its principal rivals, and almost certainly precipitate a regional arms race.49 The contract for the US naval mission was renewed for a further four years in 1926. Robert Scheina describes how, despite the rejection of the Vogelgesang plan, the mission members continued to advise regarding Brazilian naval reconstruction as well as to exert an influence on training and ethos. After a short gap between 1930 and 1932, the mission was re-appointed and steadily grew in number in the 1930s.50 Shortly before the temporary cessation of this mission in 1930, Captain W. E. C. Tait, RN, who, as mentioned above, had earlier reported on the then current state of the Argentine Navy, gave an account of the Brazilian Navy which included comments on the US naval presence. He found the naval ‘advisors’, as they were termed, comfortably embedded within the structure of

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 109

04/12/2013 08:14

110

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

the South American navy. An administrative team, together with those who instructed at the War College, worked ashore, while a second group, led by a US Rear-Admiral, helped with training afloat mainly by accompanying the fleet on its routine exercises. Despite the fact that Tait considered the Americans’ command of Portuguese to be weak, the relationship between the two navies seemed to be close. The ties had been strengthened by the opportunity that had been afforded a few years previously for a group of 25 officers to train aboard USN ships. Although Captain Tait regarded the officers as superior in most respects to other US servicemen he had encountered, he was disappointed at the efforts being made by some to discredit British equipment at every opportunity and to promote US matériel.51 The initial rejection of the naval expansion plan by Washington did not serve to deter the Brazilians, who remained anxious to achieve some form of naval parity with their chief South American rivals. Late in 1924, a revised and much smaller programme was announced as having been adopted by the Naval Committee of the Brazilian Chamber of Deputies. This called for the construction of 12 warships, including two cruisers, five destroyers and five submarines. On this occasion, the US naval mission swiftly distanced itself from this plan, commenting that it was unlikely that national resources would make it possible to carry out such a programme. If it was pursued, the mission considered it likely that Brazil would place orders with European countries prepared to afford long-term credit facilities.52 This turned out to be the case. With the aid of funds set aside through the sale of an old coastal defence monitor to Mexico, the Brazilian Government asked for tenders for a contract to build one submarine. Proposals were received from US, British and Italian shipbuilders. Unsurprisingly, neither the British nor the Americans could compete on price and, as a result, the firm of Ansaldo built the large minelaying submarine Humaitá, which commissioned in 1929. Almost a decade later, three more submarines, originally destined for the Italian Navy but purchased before launch, joined the Brazilian fleet in March 1938. In 1931, prompted by the successful negotiations between Argentina and Italy for the construction of two modified Trento Class cruisers, Brazil made a renewed effort to acquire warships of a similar size from either Britain or the United States. Neither country would comply with this request, citing Article 18 of the Washington Naval Treaty. The Brazilian Government tried again in 1936 to elicit help from the United States. This time it was proposed to purchase the ten cruisers of the Omaha Class which had been constructed in the 1918–20 period. It was suggested that

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 110

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 111

these 7,000-ton warships, whose design reflected pre-World War One concepts, might be transferred over a 10-year period as they were progressively replaced in the US fleet by new construction. Anticipating the terms of the 1936 London Naval Treaty, the Brazilian proposal was rejected. However, in an interesting further development, President Roosevelt sent a personal letter to Brazilian President Vargas. Roosevelt was at pains to point out that ‘The carrying out of this project would have tended towards a unification of standards in the navies of our two countries …’. He went on to state that it was his hope that, in the future, arrangements might be made for other interested South American countries to acquire ex-US vessels. He believed that ‘in this manner closer relations between the navies of all of the American republics would have been encouraged’.53 The notion of moving towards regional naval standardization, mooted here as early as 1936, clearly anticipated the Mutual Defense Assistance Act that underpinned US Western Hemisphere Defense Policy post–1945. The same year, Brazil, frustrated in its attempts to make any progress with its modernization programme, ordered six slightly modified ‘H’ Class destroyers to be built in Britain. This too was unsuccessful, as the vessels were requisitioned at the outbreak of World War Two and subsequently served in the Royal Navy. After this failure, Brazil decided to embark on an indigenous programme of destroyer construction that resulted in three vessels of the Marcilio Dias Class commissioning in 1943–4 and six destroyers of the Acre Class entering service between 1949 and 1951. The Dias Class was based on a US design, while the Acre Class ships were fundamentally British ‘H’ Class destroyers but carried US equipment.54 In an effort to gain experience of operating destroyers in anticipation of eventually acquiring the modern ‘H’ Class vessels, Brazil entered into secret negotiations with the US Government in 1937 to lease six ‘over-age’ destroyers to be used for training purposes. The US Administration favoured this initiative as it strengthened its campaign of ‘friendship, mutual respect and fruitful cooperation’ with the other American Republics, an initiative which stemmed from President Roosevelt’s 1933 ‘Good Neighbor Policy’. In the interests of hemispheric fairness, the United States made a similar offer to all the American republics.55 The Chilean Navy rejected this opportunity although the press in Santiago favoured acceptance. The Chilean naval attaché, in conveying the information to Washington, added that if an over-age cruiser became available the Chileans would make great efforts to secure the necessary funds to purchase the vessel in order to replace its training ship Barquedano, currently out of

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 111

04/12/2013 08:14

112

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

commission.56 The proposal was later withdrawn in the wake of vehement protests by Argentina, who accused the Americans of favouring Brazil and of deliberately seeking to upset the balance of naval power in South America.57

Britain’s declining naval influence and the effect of a World War Britain’s commercial interests in South America during the decade preceding World War Two were supported by an almost continuous naval presence. Like other countries, such as France, Germany and the United States, the arrival of warships in the various ports around the continent signalled not only a commitment but also reassurance for often isolated expatriate communities. The deployment of HM ships offered frequent opportunities to ‘showcase’ modern British naval shipbuilding at a time when the major South American navies were seeking to complete their modernization plans formulated during the 1920s. Unfortunately, export successes during the 1930s failed by some margin to match those achieved during the pre-World War One era. Warships were built in British shipyards only for Argentina and for Colombia. War intervened before Brazil’s order for destroyers could be completed, while Chile’s quest for cruisers fell victim to the 1936 Naval Treaty.58 The main obstacles to success lay, first, with the ability of competitors such as Italy to tender at lower prices and to offer attractive credit terms, and second, through the regulations stemming from the naval treaties that prevented major signatories such as Britain from constructing major warships for export. The powerful disarmament ‘lobbies’ at work in both the UK and the USA also found much popular support at the time. World War Two only served to strengthen the bonds between the US and South America and to lay the foundations for the defence cooperation of the post-war period. Following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, at a meeting convened in Rio de Janeiro in January 1942, the US sought a resolution calling for all the American republics to break diplomatic relations with the Axis powers. By the end of the meeting only Argentina and Chile had refused to comply with this request. Subsequently both countries were to renounce neutrality and, very late in the war, to commit to the Allied cause. An important further outcome of what became known as the Rio Conference saw the formation of the ‘Inter-American Defense Board’, which would in future coordinate military and technical matters throughout the Western hemisphere. In essence, the USA would assume responsibility for the protection of the region in return for which the Latin American countries would supply raw materials for the war effort.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 112

04/12/2013 08:14



Winners and Losers: Naval Export Sales and Arms Limitation in the 1930s 113

The hunt for the German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee in the South Atlantic, and the subsequent engagement with cruisers of an expanded South America Division of the RN’s America and West Indies Squadron in the River Plate estuary in December 1939, was a rare example of Britain’s direct naval involvement in the region during World War Two. Enough concern was felt about successive encroachments by the European adversaries in neutral waters related to the hunt for the German battleship and its supply ships for a formal protest to be made by all the South American republics. This matter, together with the on-going British blockade of goods from the continent bound for Germany, further served to sour relations in some quarters. In 1942, two incidents highlighted Argentina’s continuing interest in its geopolitical claims to the Falkland Islands and to Antarctica. A flight of three Argentine Navy aircraft landed on islands just to the north of the Falklands archipelago in January of that year, apparently undetected by the British. Later the same year a navy transport visited three islands in the South Shetland group, landed, raised the Argentine flag and left behind a bronze plaque marking the occasion. In 1944, the same ship returned and found that the RN had discovered the ‘incursion’ into what was regarded as sovereign British territory.

Conclusion Undeniably, the Royal Navy’s influence in the region was on the decline. By the mid-1930s there were no RN missions in South American countries. This meant there were no opportunities to influence ethos or to engender sentiment among a new generation of naval officers schooled in British training methods, let alone to encourage the senior naval officers to buy British warships. By contrast, there were US missions or advisers working either continuously or intermittently in Argentina, Brazil, Colombia and Peru, and courses on offer in North American training establishments. Significantly, as related above, in the late 1930s elements within the ardently pro-British Chilean Navy were favouring strengthening ties with the USN at the expense of the UK, Chile’s traditional ally. The outbreak of World War Two served to perpetuate trends that were already apparent in the later interwar period. The USA’s hold on the region was extended beyond economic penetration towards military protection. For Britain, the paramount importance of protecting its trade routes and in turn

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 113

04/12/2013 08:14

114

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

denying the enemy imported goods had resulted in the Royal Navy assuming an entirely different ‘persona’ from the friendly peacetime role of showing the flag in South American seaports. Moreover, preoccupation with other tasks allowed the opportunity for Argentina to explore the ability of Britain to maintain its commitment to, and ultimately to defend, its most far-flung imperial territories.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 114

04/12/2013 08:14

5

Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

One evening in February 1953, Arturo Olavarria, Chile’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, called at the residence of the US Ambassador Claude Bowers in an agitated state. A party of British Royal Marines had demolished a shelter hut on Deception Island, a small but strategically important island in the Antarctic South Shetland Group to which Argentina, Chile and the UK all lay claim. In his autobiography Bowers described his mediation role that night, agreeing to ‘act as an unofficial liaison between the minister and Sir Charles Stirling, Britain’s Ambassador, in an effort to find an amicable solution’. But that would have to wait. Bowers recalls that, in a bizarre twist at the start of what threatened to escalate into a major international crisis, the British Ambassador had decided to leave the capital for a fishing expedition to the south of the country, thereby rendering serious diplomatic negotiations nigh-on impossible until his return.1 Bowers’ measured account of the events of that night contrasts sharply with the more emotional recollections of the Chilean minister. Three years later, in response to an editorial in El Mercurio which had criticized his handling of the 1953 crisis, Olavarria asserted that he had been incensed by the pre-emptive British action. On the day he had visited Claude Bowers he had mobilized the Navy and Air Force and had reached an agreement with the Argentine Navy that their joint forces would meet off the port of Punta Arenas and sail to Deception Island in order to reinstate the bases.2 Olavarria had been on the point of meeting with his military Chiefs of Staff the next day when he was unexpectedly asked to resign from his post, and for that reason the proposed operation was cancelled. Whichever account is closer to the truth, a perceived betrayal of trust on the part of the British Government lay at the heart of this matter as news of the crisis was leaked to The Times. Hitherto, despite protest and counter-protest,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 115

04/12/2013 08:14

116

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

the dispute had been handled in a discreet fashion, all three sides willing to adhere to the parameters set by a secret Tripartite Naval Declaration (TND) between Argentina, Chile and the UK, the details of which are explained later in this chapter. On this occasion, the Chilean embassy staff in London had been assured by an FO official that information about the landing by the Marines on Deception Island would remain confidential, and this had not been the case. Although a major armed conflict did not occur, the repercussions caused by the handling of this incident have to be regarded as a particularly low point in relations between Britain and its most loyal South American ally in the immediate post-war decades. Unfortunately, former traditional alliances such as this one were to be severely tested as Britain struggled at home to achieve financial stability and to contend with the steady dismantling of its empire. By 1939 it had become clear that the United States was gaining a considerable influence over the South American navies in most respects other than the supply of warships. This too was to change, as war surplus vessels became available. By contrast, Britain’s naval influence, which had been on the decline, became progressively weaker during the two decades following the termination of World War Two, not helped by the intervention of politics in the form of territorial disputes such as the one described above Four specific factors may be cited. First, the determination of the United States of America to implement its ‘Hemisphere Defense Policy’ presented challenges which Britain could not hope to match, given the economic problems it faced in the immediate post-war period. Second, following the end of hostilities in 1945, the Royal Navy was unable to provide the kind of regular, visible presence which had been a feature of the circumnavigations of the continent by vessels of the America and West Indies Station in the interwar years owing to a very rapid decline in resources and manpower.3 Third, relationships with the Southern Cone republics of Argentina and Chile became progressively more strained owing to a succession of crises over the sovereignty of the Falkland Islands and disputed Antarctic territories. Fourth, while Britain was distracted by its struggle to maintain its Great Power status as its empire rapidly diminished, its commercial influence on South America was continuing to decline. This was in marked contrast to the euphoria felt in the UK in May 1945. Saki Dockrill describes Britain’s mood when peace was declared as ‘jubilant’, but quotes Christopher Mayhew’s cautionary judgement: ‘We should have seen then that in winning a great victory, we had suffered a great economic defeat, and that the political influence we enjoyed owed more to our past reputation than to any solid, continuing source of international power.’ Dockrill goes on to cite the Atlee

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 116

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

117

Government’s commitment to full employment and radical reforms in education, welfare and health at a time when ‘Britain was economically exhausted’ by the war as being at the heart of the post-war problems facing the country.4 David Edgerton argues against the commonly held view that Britain’s parlous economic state in 1945 was due to the wartime requirement to raise arms production at the expense of exports. He states that the country’s competitors were in a similar position and some never recovered sufficiently to contest the world markets. Edgerton sees the unpredicted cessation of the ‘lend-lease’ scheme in 1945, which he calls Britain’s ‘financial Dunkirk’, as the root cause of the difficulty. This required Britain to commit to a long-term US loan to pay for urgent imports which was only paid off in 2006.5 One key element in the drive to improve the balance-of-payments deficit was the requirement to earn hard currency, and dollars in particular, through exports. The South American market was perceived as an important area in this respect and the sale of naval defence equipment remained an attractive commodity in that part of the world. The need to fulfil the requirements for increased domestic arms production had substantially delayed replacement and modernization programmes in several countries across the continent. However, there were divisions of opinion within the British Government that stood in the way of a straightforward continent-wide arms sales drive. These centred on the need to avoid upsetting the Americans in view of the latter’s key role in Britain’s economic recovery. Two examples, from the immediate post-war period, typify the hesitancy to make commitments that might cause the US to reduce or withdraw its financial support at a critical time.

Not upsetting the Americans In November 1944, the British Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden sought the advice of the vastly experienced Ambassador to Washington, Lord Halifax, regarding the re-establishment of relations with Chile and particularly the wisdom of offering a British naval mission that, according to intelligence received, was being encouraged by some senior naval personnel within the Chilean Navy. It was argued that the efficacy of the naval mission as a means of maintaining close links between navies and thus attracting sales of equipment had been clearly demonstrated in the case of Chile during the interwar period. Lord Halifax’s lengthy and measured reply showed an awareness of the extent to which the US Navy was already involved with the Chileans, citing

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 117

04/12/2013 08:14

118

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

negotiations for lend-lease matériel, the provision of courses for officers and links with the Washington-based Chilean Naval Commission. Lord Halifax recommended that, as Chile had not officially asked Britain for a naval mission and there was certain to be a counter-offer from the United States, it would be unwise to commence negotiations in the near future. Furthermore, he advocated a policy of openness, to admit that Britain was interested in renewing its naval partnership with Chile and to seek the support of the USA in the matter. By contrast, Lord Halifax’s alternative strategy, should there be objections, was strikingly conciliatory: But if Hemispheric Defence be held by the United States Government to preclude such an arrangement I suggest the advisability of gracefully retiring from an unequal contest before critics (undoubtedly here or elsewhere) can accuse us of unsuccessful rivalry with the United States Navy.6

The Ambassador’s views received much attention both in the FO and in the Admiralty over the next few months, with opinion divided between those who recognized the inevitability of an American usurpation of Britain’s traditional role and others who sought strategies to prevent total US domination. The FO expressed surprise at the Admiralty’s apparent willingness to concede defeat over Chile, describing as ‘chimerical’ the theory being expounded that surrendering naval relationships in South America would allow Britain a stronger bargaining position in the case of Europe which, according to the Admiralty, constituted ‘a cardinal principle of its naval policy’. A Foreign Office Internal Minute questioned the Admiralty’s reasoning on this point, arguing that there was no basis on which to make the assumption that European Navies in the future would seek to buy British-built warships. There was no tradition of this happening and these countries had adequate shipbuilding infrastructures anyway. On the other hand, South America was ‘the ripest plum among all markets for the products of naval shipyards’ with ample demand together with an inability to construct their own vessels.7 The final decision to accept an American naval mission was made as part of an economic agreement concerning the renewal of the US copper mining contract, and was opposed by the Chilean Naval Council. The Council managed to restrict the jurisdiction of the mission to an advisory capacity only; there would be neither involvement in naval instruction nor a takeover of educational institutions.8 In an earlier, separate initiative, attempts were made to persuade the British Admiralty to send a senior officer to reorganize the Chilean Naval War College.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 118

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

119

Anticipating the switch to American control, more senior personnel within the Chilean Navy were anxious that the service should retain its historic British training methods. Despite the fact that the approach lacked official authorization, the information was passed to the Admiralty via the Foreign Office but no further action was taken.9 The second example concerns Argentina. In November 1947, the Argentine Government had called for public tenders for a naval order initially estimated to be worth approximately £20 million, part of a much larger rearmament programme which contentiously included the acquisition of jet fighters and heavy bombers. A number of private British shipyards had expressed interest in the naval order but Britain at the time was held to a ‘Gentleman’s Agreement’ with the United States of October 1945 not to supply arms to Argentina as the latter was thought to be harbouring German nationals with Nazi allegiances. The government allowed the agreement to lapse prematurely in 1947 on the premise that Argentina had already expelled a number of these individuals. Although the Foreign Office, and initially Prime Minister Clement Attlee as well, were strongly in favour of allowing British shipbuilders to tender, the argument gained precedence that the support the UK was currently receiving from the USA in the form of loans demanded compliance with the US defence policy for the region. It was known that the American Secretary of State George Marshall was gravely concerned about the willingness of Britain to supply arms, and jet fighters in particular, to Argentina.10 Additionally, the British were receiving bad publicity at the time in America, particularly over the treatment of the Jewish people trying to reach Palestine and from those who resented the US Government providing more loans for what was deemed a ‘colonialist’ nation.11

A policy on arms exports Despite the fact that the naval part of the Argentine rearmament programme was subsequently lost, the Attlee Government remained convinced that British companies had the right to tender for the supply of armaments to all South American countries. Economically, it afforded the opportunity to earn hard currency, thereby improving the trade balance with individual countries.12 In more general terms, the Cabinet was in agreement that an overseas arms market was important for maintaining the country’s war potential and facilitating the early re-equipment of the armed forces in time of war. The communist takeover of Czechoslovakia in February 1948 and the imposition of the Berlin blockade

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 119

04/12/2013 08:14

120

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

the following June convinced the Labour Government of an immediate threat to world peace orchestrated by the Soviet Union. To this end, in July 1949 the Prime Minister instructed the Chiefs of Staff Committee that the current armament requirements for Commonwealth and other countries should become a permanent feature of the Committee’s remit. Increased volume of production brought about by defence exports would lower costs, alleviate the difficulties of suddenly raising production output if the country was placed on a ‘war footing’ and increase existing stocks available to be commandeered in time of crisis.13 These measures would to some degree alleviate the concerns, expressed in the Defence Estimates for both 1947–48 and 1949–50, that the services were having to rely on surplus World War Two material and that investment in new equipment and associated research and development was lagging behind to a serious degree.14 Two years later, despite the onset of the Korean War the previous year that had heralded an unexpected upsurge in UK defence spending and armaments manufacture, the policy regarding arms exports was re-affirmed and clarified.15 Again, the threat of an impending world war underpinned the reasoning for adopting this policy. A factor which has been taken into account in applying the above policy is a desirability to retain a foothold in export markets for military equipment of British types, even at temporary sacrifice of our own forces, in order to improve our ability to maintain a high level of war potential in the future.16

In late 1951, the Board of Trade issued criteria on the selection of export markets for industrial goods, and this was followed shortly by a similar document covering defence equipment. Countries were accorded a political priority rating on a scale A–E. Unsurprisingly, this latter document was considered to be highly sensitive at the time and therefore was permitted a very limited circulation only. The economic policy governing the export of arms determined that: MM

MM

MM

MM

MM

exports to dollar and dollar account countries were to receive the highest priority ratings; non-sterling destinations were granted precedence over sterling area ones; cash payments were ideal; credit was undesirable; it was deemed important to secure the custom of countries which were facing a major policy choice between the UK and US types of equipment and were able to offer a continuing market over a period of time; rich countries were preferable customers to poor ones.17

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 120

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

121

With respect to South America, it was recognized that there were no strategic reasons for stimulating the export of arms to the region and it was conceded that US mutual defence arrangements were in place. Nevertheless, it was thought to be ‘highly desirable’ to increase UK exports, particularly to dollar account countries on that continent. To do so strengthened political relations, earned dollars and opened further export markets, e.g. for the sale of civil aircraft. Exports to Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador and Venezuela would earn dollars; Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Paraguay, Peru and Uruguay – sterling. There were question marks placed against Argentina and to a lesser extent Chile on account of the on-going dispute over territories in Antarctica and also the Falkland Islands.18

Naval exports to Venezuela and Brazil A separate policy document prioritized the target markets. The needs of UK forces and others of strategic importance were to be given first priority together with those of the ‘old Dominions’, provided these did not compromise UK needs. Other friendly nations were accorded secondary importance, with South America in sixth place. In the South American section, Venezuela and Brazil were singled out as being of particular significance. In the case of Venezuela it was not only the prospect of earning dollars through sales; such a move also offered the opportunity to re-enter other commercial markets which had been virtually closed to the UK for many years owing to the dominance of the USA.19 In fact, Britain had been diplomatically courting Venezuela, described as being ‘flush with dollars’ from oil revenues, since before the end of World War Two. The Navy had sent HMS Corsair to attend the anniversary celebrations of a long-forgotten Venezuelan general in February 1945, a ceremony not attended by US warships. This gesture was later acknowledged by the president and there followed protracted negotiations between the two countries that were to lead to the ordering of two (and later, a third) modern destroyers, to be built in Barrow by Vickers-Armstrong.20 Between 1950 and 1953 a consortium of private British shipbuilders engaged in a fierce battle with the Italian builder Ansaldo for a similarly lucrative order, this time for six escort destroyers also for Venezuela. The degree of involvement required of the commercial section at the British Embassy in Caracas was enough to make the British Ambassador lodge a complaint that he was understaffed and that his people were being forced to ignore other important work.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 121

04/12/2013 08:14

122

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

In the outcome, Ansaldo secured the order for Italy much to the chagrin of the Foreign Office, which had invested a great deal of time and effort, and the shipbuilding consortium which argued that the British design was technically superior and only slightly more expensive.21 As these negotiations with Venezuela were drawing to an unsuccessful conclusion, Britain was already in discussions with Brazil regarding a very large naval replacement programme initially estimated to be worth in the region of £40–50 million, spread over a number of years. Ostensibly the Brazilian armed forces, and particularly the navy, still had close ties with the US Navy, as has been demonstrated already. Now Brazil was turning to Britain and France rather than to its usual ally. The Foreign Office reaction to these overtures was mixed. On the one hand there was delight that the prospect of a substantial order, in the first instance for new-build destroyers, had arrived at a time when a decline in merchant ship orders needed to be counter-balanced. On the other hand Brazil was seeking favourable credit terms spread over an eight-year period which the private shipyards could not countenance without the kind of government help that would contravene export policy guidelines. Although Brazil was rated as a Priority B country, owing to its economic potential rather than the current state of its economy, there was a lack of support from the Board of Trade and the Treasury’s Export Credit Guarantee Department to give financial backing to the private shipbuilders. Brazil was reported in 1952 to be in arrears in sterling to the tune of £50 million.22 The failure of the destroyer bid did not end Brazil’s quest to modernize its navy. The most attractive part of its programme, from the provider’s point of view, involved an ambitious plan to purchase an aircraft carrier and with it a naval air capability. Although it had signalled its intention in 1952, it was not until December 1956 that a deal was agreed under which the surplus British light aircraft carrier, HMS Vengeance, was sold to the Brazilians for a cost of £7 million.23 There were other export successes during the first decade following World War Two. The sale of two World War Two-vintage escort destroyers to the small Ecuadorian Navy, concluded in 1953, was another example of the desire of several South American countries not to become wholly dictated to by the US hemisphere defence plans. The extent of US involvement can be measured by the fact that Ecuador’s naval officers were trained both at home and in the United States by American servicemen, and there was a small US naval mission in operation in the country. The sale of the warships to this Priority B-rated

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 122

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

123

country was worth £1 million, and the fact that the order represented a dollar export was welcomed by both the Board of Trade and the Treasury.24

Sales to Chile The saga of Chile’s long-running quest to have cruisers built in the UK during the 1930s continued during the immediate post-war period. However, attempts to have a 6-inch gun design based on the Fiji Class or to acquire the iconic cruiser HMS Ajax second-hand ended in political and diplomatic muddle in 1949.25 The fact that Chile had also acquired ex-Canadian frigates in 1946 in a deal brokered in the USA, thus breaking a long tradition of acquiring exclusively British-built naval vessels, caused an unfortunate degree of estrangement between the two countries, exacerbated by a deepening crisis over the future of contested Antarctic territories.26 Nevertheless, Chilean fears that its neighbour and rival Argentina was about to acquire an aircraft carrier, and therefore to develop a naval air capability at sea, prompted the opening of negotiations in 1951 which were to lead to the building of two Almirante Class destroyers at Vickers-Armstrong in Barrow-inFurness. The contract was worth about £9 million, and these destroyers were to be equipped with a potent anti-aircraft capability intended to counter any aerial threat. For its part the FO, while welcoming the proposed contract, expressed caution regarding any firm commitments, as it was known that Chile was very short of sterling currency. Chile had been awarded political priority C status in the Export of Defence Equipment Guidance and, although there were attractions in gaining this warship order, it was feared that it would be detrimental if it was achieved at the expense of Britain’s traditional, commercial trade with the country.27 There is no doubt that the Almirante Class destroyers were built to a very modern and sophisticated standard, becoming, in Norman Friedman’s words, ‘a kind of showcase of Vickers and Marconi equipment, such as the new single automatic 4-inch gun and Marconi radars’.28

Disputes with Argentina and Chile over sovereignty in Antarctica It was a measure of the complex and usually conflicting influences at work that at least Britain and Chile could continue to negotiate quite freely over possible warship construction contracts and sales while at the same time remaining at

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 123

04/12/2013 08:14

124

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

loggerheads over sovereignty of the disputed Antarctic territories. The same was not true of Anglo-Argentine relations during the immediate post-war decade. What had been a close association, founded on trade and strengthened by a large expatriate population, had started to deteriorate in the 1930s. Post-war, the appropriation of the British-built and owned railways and public utility companies by President Perón’s government served to deepen the divide between the two countries.29 According to Klaus Dodds, on the British side this disenchantment was driven by frustrations over declining commercial performance, particularly the failure to revive the meat trade to satisfy urgent post-war needs, coupled with fears over Argentine ambitions in Antarctica and the Falklands Islands. Matters were made worse by a persistent attitude among the political and diplomatic elite in Britain to stereotype the South Americans as ‘unpredictable, hysterical and irrational’, which served to taint subsequent judgements.30 By contrast, as far as the personnel involved in the task of occupying and regularly servicing the disputed territories, which were situated in the harshest and most inhospitable of environments, there seems to have been little enthusiasm for the task. Inevitably, the unresolved dispute over this remote territory reached a watershed in February 1953, after which there was a very gradual shift by Britain towards conciliation. The Bergen Polar Conference in 1938 had reawakened the interests of both Argentina and Chile to their latent Antarctic territorial ambitions. Although it appeared at times that the actions of the two countries in relation to what the British claimed as sovereign territory in the ‘Falkland Islands Dependencies’ (FID) were coordinated, this rarely, if ever, seems to have been the case. Instead, there existed an intense rivalry between the Southern Cone countries over sovereignty. However, neither nation would concede to the British argument, which was consistently applied, that the matter should be referred to the International Court of Justice in The Hague.31 At least in part, the origins of the international tensions between Argentina and Chile lay in their respective geopolitical ambitions. Although the dividing line between the two countries to the south of the continental mainland would appear to be at the confluence of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, which logic suggests runs due south from Cape Horn, the Argentine geopolitical school of thought envisaged the ‘Argentine Sea’ as embracing the entire area claimed by the British and extending into the Pacific to the west of the South Shetland group and Graham Land. By contrast, Chile would contend that the natural delimitation between the southern oceans follows an arc, known as the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 124

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

125

Southern Antilles, made up of submarine heights that extend the continental shelf from Cape Horn eastwards into the Atlantic as far as South Georgia before turning south. This constituted the ‘Chilean Sea’.32 An overview of the decade 1946–56 reveals a distinct, annual pattern of events. Each austral season, when the seas around the South Shetland Islands and Graham Land were navigable for about the three months between January and March, Britain, Argentina and Chile would despatch naval vessels and supply ships to the region. Their tasks were to relieve the parties who had wintered at the increasing numbers of bases that had been established in the area and to monitor each other’s movements. As Britain claimed the entire area as sovereign territory, the construction of each new Argentine and Chilean base resulted in a separate, official protest being issued on behalf of HM Government. The recipients in turn duly rejected these protests, proffering their own counter-claims.33 An important control over naval activities was exercised through the Tripartite Naval Declaration (TND). This agreement, which was signed each year by the three countries concerned, limited the number of naval vessels allowed to voyage south of the 60-degree latitude and required the signatories to make a prior declaration as to which ships would be deployed. Ernest Bevin was the architect of the declaration, after Argentina in particular had made a strong ‘naval demonstration’ in the disputed waters during the 1948 summer season and the whole affair had threatened to escalate out of control.34 Adherence to the declaration suited the purposes of the British Government and especially those of the Royal Navy, as it served to hold in check the activities of the Argentine Navy that, if exercised, could demonstrate a considerable local naval superiority.35 In reality, the RN lacked the resources to station a permanent force in the South Atlantic on the off-chance that it would be required to deter the Argentine or Chilean navies. Post-war, the naval station based at Bermuda could only muster one frigate on distant support in the Falkland Islands and a single cruiser to make infrequent visits to all the ports on both coasts.36 Significantly, when a major RN warship did call, its impact in terms of providing reassurance about the long-term state of relationships was often transparently productive from a diplomatic point of view. For example, HMS Jamaica’s arrival in Valparaiso in 1949 was described as a ‘morale-booster’, both in the wake of the HMS Ajax affair and in terms of the on-going Antarctica problem. Two years later, during a private meeting between the Ambassador and the Chilean President aboard HMS Superb, Gabriel Videla confided that Chile’s true opponent in the Antarctic was not Britain but Argentina.37

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 125

04/12/2013 08:14

126

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

While the British were able to restrain the activities of the Argentine and Chilean navies through the annual TND, it did not prevent the two Southern Cone nations from continuing to construct and populate bases within the FID. The cost to Britain of maintaining a presence in the region, set against the strategic and political reasons for retaining sovereignty, were to become key matters for future debate in London. In the meantime, however, the more immediate question of taking decisive action to remove the Chileans and Argentines by force and to dismantle their bases, thereby endeavouring to stem the increasing number of incursions, had been mooted from 1948 onwards.38 Two incidents, in 1952 and of more serious note in 1953, threatened to transform what hitherto had been a mostly unreported diplomatic dispute into a full-scale crisis. In February 1952, the civilian-manned survey ship John Briscoe arrived at the Hope Bay base at the northerly tip of the Graham Land peninsula which was considered strategically important in connection with Britain’s territorial claim due to its position on the Antarctic mainland. There were also populated Argentine and Chilean bases close by, but the British base had been unoccupied since 1949 owing to a fire. Shortly after the John Briscoe had commenced unloading stores, a party of armed Argentines arrived and demanded that the British withdraw. In the course of two ensuing altercations, the Argentines fired shots over the heads of the John Briscoe party. Although the incident ended with appropriate apologies from the Argentine contingent, the Governor of the FID, who assumed overall local responsibility for upholding the British claims, was suitably outraged. There was frustration too on the part of the Foreign Office at the Admiralty’s continuing reticence to provide a regular and suitable presence in that latitude, the Admiralty citing navigational difficulties including ice and wind.39 The Royal Navy, throughout this dispute, drew attention to the inherent dangers faced by its warships where they could become trapped in the ice, as had occurred in 1949 to the frigate HMS Sparrow. Although damage to the unstrengthened hulls of the ships was a constant worry, the danger of a professional ‘loss of face’ should they need to be towed to safety by an Argentine or Chilean warship was probably the paramount concern for the RN commanding officers involved.40 As outlined at the beginning of this chapter, in February 1953 in a carefully planned and top-secret military operation, Royal Marines were landed from the frigate HMS Snipe on Deception Island where both Argentine and Chilean bases had been recently constructed. The Chilean ‘base’, which consisted of a single hut sited rather provocatively on the edge of a British-built aircraft landing strip, was unoccupied. This was simply dismantled by the troops. A

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 126

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

127

small Argentine contingent at its base was arrested and immediately deported. They offered no resistance.41 Despite its apparent insignificance, the Deception Island operation carried the considerable risk of escalating the dispute to the level of a major armed conflict. Contingency plans were drawn up for powerful RN reinforcements to be despatched to Antarctica in the case of Argentine or Chilean retaliation.42 British sources claimed that no joint action between the two uneasy Andean neighbours was ever contemplated, despite a temporary improvement in Argentine–Chilean relations. The government and the press in both Buenos Aires and Santiago remained surprisingly acquiescent and muted.43 Documentary evidence makes it clear that Argentina rather than Chile provided the major motivating force behind the British action. Deception Island itself, which contained the best harbour facilities in the entire area, was considered to be strategically vital if Britain was to retain the Falkland Islands, which were recognized as constituting a key component of Argentine geopolitical ambitions. In the UK, complaints about the lack of action by the government over the incursions had taken the form of letters to ministers from a small but persistent number of correspondents, together with regular parliamentary backbench enquiries. Doubtless these opinions contributed to the Cabinet’s decision to proceed with the operation.44 As described earlier, the mood of the Chilean Minister for Foreign Affairs, Arturo Olavarria, was far from placatory. Two despatches to his country’s embassy in London on 20 February reflected his discontent. In the first one he directly accused the British Foreign Office of breaking its promise regarding confidentiality. The second and more detailed communication described the action of the British forces as a direct violation of Chilean territorial rights. He demanded the reconstruction of the Chilean installation in the strongest possible diplomatic language and threatened to bring the whole matter to the attention of the Organization of American States (OAS).45 However, it was the continuing threat from Argentina to the Falkland Islands themselves that had the most direct influence over the action taken in February 1953 on Deception Island. Following the Hope Bay incident, Prime Minister Winston Churchill had commissioned a review of defence plans for the Falkland Islands because he was inclined to believe that the Argentines might invade. The subsequent Chiefs of Staff report concluded that, while there was no immediate likelihood of a full-scale invasion of the islands, a landing on an unoccupied outer island remained a possibility as a precursor to a subsequent campaign.46

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 127

04/12/2013 08:14

128

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Although it did not have the desired effect of preventing the two South American nations from continuing to establish small bases across the disputed region during the following summer seasons, the Deception Island operation did prompt the UK to seek a long-term solution. By the autumn of 1953, although the British were opposed to the then current ideas about a ‘standstill agreement’ on the Antarctic overseen by an international administration, it was felt that at least this concept pointed the way forward.47

Reality for an empire in retreat The kind of dissatisfaction with British colonial rule that had been evident in different parts of the world since 1945 affected Britain’s sole South American mainland possession of British Guiana in 1953. In April of that year parliamentary reform resulted in a serious constitutional crisis. The People’s Progressive Party (PPP) won 18 of the 24 seats in the House of Assembly. This result alarmed the British Government, which was concerned about the PPP’s links with communist influences in the colony. By September there were strikes in nearly all the sugar plantations. Later, rioting resulted in the destruction of some of the crops. The Governor called for assistance in the form of British troop reinforcements amidst a deteriorating security situation. A cruiser and two frigates were despatched from Jamaica at the end of the month, bound for the capital, Georgetown. Owing to an off-shore sandbar which prevented ships of deep draught from entering the port city, the troops of the Welch Fusiliers had to be transferred to the smaller escorts before disembarking ashore. By the time the military arrived, peace appeared to have been restored, causing the commanding officer of HMS Bigbury Bay to remark that he ‘… was finding it increasingly hard to believe there might be unrest in the colony’.48 However, the mood of discontent was considered serious enough for the British Government to suspend the constitution on 5 October ‘to prevent Communist subversion of the government and a dangerous crisis both in public order and in economic affairs’. A state of emergency was declared and a full military occupation was in force in the colony by 9 October 1953.49 Examination of the documents relating to this crisis suggests that the Royal Navy struggled to cope even with the straightforward, logistical demands of this comparatively minor emergency. In basic terms, cutbacks meant that it lacked the resources to meet additional or unforeseen commitments. In the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 128

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

129

wider sense, the reality of the country’s status in the first half of the 1950s did not correlate with the accepted notion at the time that Britain was still a frontrank power in possession of a large empire and with the ability to police it comfortably. All this had happened within a comparatively short period of time. In 1947, for example, the UK Joint Planning Staff had recommended that control of the Drake Passage south of Cape Horn was vital in time of war in order to protect the trade route to the Western Pacific Ocean, given that the only other access – through the Panama Canal – might be subject to sabotage. Therefore, continued occupation and repeated declarations of sovereignty of both the Falkland Islands themselves and the South Shetland Group and Deception Island in particular were of key importance.50 In essence, this paper constituted Britain’s pre-war position. The nature of a future war and the ‘enemy’ referred to who might threaten the Pacific trade routes were not identified. Moreover, the strategy envisaged represented a unilateral stance; there were no concessions made to the views of the United States or other allies. Although with hindsight one can argue that the proposals did not accurately reflect post-war realities, nevertheless this was the official position that Britain adhered to over the course of the next nine years. The question of Britain’s future hold on these territories demonstrated the country’s anxiety to retain its status as the third most powerful nation in the world. But the Antarctic was not an old-style colonial acquisition. There was no indigenous population to rule, no land to cultivate, any mineral wealth that did exist was not yet of proven worth.51 According to Klaus Dodds, with Britain’s empire shrinking elsewhere the ‘significance of a place’, in this case the Antarctic and the South Atlantic, assumed a symbolic importance for the United Kingdom. This assertion is borne out in the documents of the period where the dominant emotions expressed are those of anger and indignation directed towards Argentina and Chile, simply for the act of encroaching on empty, but sovereign, British territory.52 However, it had become increasingly clear that a status quo position, as described in the Joint Planning Staff paper in 1947 referred to above, could not be maintained. In 1956, two reports were produced which in different ways indicated Britain’s future policy towards the FID and, more broadly, the entire South American continent. First, a Chiefs of Staff paper, ‘UK Strategic Interests in the Falkland Islands and Antarctica’, conceded that the policy of evicting the so-called Argentine and Chilean ‘trespassers’ was unaffordable and therefore untenable. The second study recommended that the RN’s America

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 129

04/12/2013 08:14

130

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

and West Indies Command should be abolished. Although it was argued that the resulting redistribution of warships would mean that an additional frigate would become available in the event of an emergency in the South Atlantic, there was tacit acknowledgement that the disestablishment of the station would mean that no cruiser, the type of vessel normally associated with prestigious and diplomatically significant port visits, would be allocated on a regular basis to cover the Latin American littoral.53 Subsequently, the A&WI Station closed in 1957 and the so-called South American ‘rump’ of the command was reallocated to the South Atlantic Naval Station based at Simon’s Town, South Africa. The implications underpinning both of the above decisions are clear. Britain could no longer afford to exercise its influence in a part of the world that, in the broader context of its worldwide interests, might be considered to be of fairly low strategic and military value. Why did the Royal Navy not protest over the amalgamation of the South American and South African stations? It meant that its influence in that vast swathe of the globe was now practically non-existent and its peacetime ‘showing the flag’ function would be rendered nigh-on impossible other than in an irregular and token manner. The truth is that it had become preoccupied with battles much closer to home. The likelihood of an atomic, or later a nuclear, attack at the start of a short but cataclysmic war had brought into question the very need for a navy in the future. The RN’s remaining large aircraft carriers came under particular pressure from ministers, civil servants and other service chiefs, who claimed that these most expensive items of military hardware were simply unaffordable.54 In 1953–4, as part of an agreement with a reluctant Chancellor of the Exchequer to agree a defence budget of £1,610 million, a ‘radical’ defence review was promised, one which sought to re-assess Britain’s defence needs in the nuclear age. The Navy’s core programmes, particularly the big carriers, were singled out as unjustifiable. The Royal Navy pinned its hopes on the questionable argument that the initial nuclear exchange would be followed by a prolonged period of what was termed ‘broken-backed’ conventional warfare as both sides sought a conclusion to hostilities. Christopher Bell describes Winston Churchill’s part in this debate as the ageing politician returned to office in 1951. Could the RN rely on the Prime Minister with whom it had enjoyed such a long association to lend his support at a time when it seemed to be fighting for its very future? Senior naval officers at the time would have been much heartened a few years before by Churchill’s masterful summing up of the role of the Royal Navy, made in a speech in 1948, in

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 130

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

131

which he had described the service in war as ‘our means of safety’ while in peace, ‘it sustains the prestige, repute, and influence of this small island …’. However, when in power, Churchill seemed to accept more and more the ultimate supremacy of air power, the centrality of a nuclear capability, and to confidently forecast the end of the aircraft carrier during the next decade.55 Although the carriers were saved on that occasion, the ‘battle’ was resumed later in the decade when the Navy’s arch-opponent Duncan Sandys became Defence Secretary. In such circumstances it is understandable that the minds of the Admiralty Board members were elsewhere than in the South Atlantic and Pacific.

Selling a second-hand aircraft carrier to Argentina Nevertheless, even if the RN was no longer able to show the flag on a regular basis, the region still had to be considered worthwhile as a market for naval exports. By the mid-1950s, and despite the continuing fears that Argentina might invade the Falkland Islands, Britain remained alert to its potential as a customer for warships. The overthrow of President Juan Perón in September1955, rumoured to have been orchestrated by a cadre of senior naval officers, was promptly viewed in London as heralding a more amenable and politically predictable regime with a consequent lessening in tension over the disputed territories. It was reported in October 1955 that the new administration in Buenos Aires was thought to be favouring international talks to end the Antarctic sovereignty problem. Moreover, it became known that the Argentine Navy was interested in acquiring a second-hand aircraft carrier. A fresh assessment was prepared which showed that, although carrier-borne aircraft would pose an aerial threat to the Falklands, the gain was not considered to be as great as the Argentine air force was equipped with land-based, British-built Lancaster and Lincoln bombers that could also reach the islands.56 By the following year, despite latent concerns to the contrary, the relevant departments in London had convinced themselves that the regime change in Buenos Aires would allow the sale of an aircraft carrier without such a move presenting a threat. A key document argued the case for warmer relations between Britain and Argentina within the broader context of the Cold War. It concluded that, strategically in time of war, the Drake Passage to the south of the continent would have to be defended as the Russians had recently shown an interest in the region. It was accepted that in the event of a global war British forces would be assigned exclusively to the NATO area and it would be left to the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 131

04/12/2013 08:14

132

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

USA and friendly Southern Cone nations such as Argentina to provide regional security. By the summer of 1956, relations were deemed friendly enough to allow a goodwill visit to be made to Buenos Aires by a British frigate.57 It was acknowledged that the Americans, who had vehemently opposed the earlier Brazilian deal, would perceive the sale of the carrier to Argentina as a serious undermining of its policy by a close ally. Concern was expressed about the damage this might cause to future Anglo-US trust in this area. Although the Americans could not veto the sale, it was decided that the State Department should be informed. The British Foreign Secretary Selwyn Lloyd’s statement, that ‘[the Americans] may try hard to dissuade us but we have strong arguments on our side and it is possible that we may have to consider going ahead without them’, is typical of Britain’s determinedly independent foreign-policy stance at the time with regard to the sale of arms. Thus negotiations were allowed to proceed and Argentina formally acquired ARA Independencia, formerly HMS Warrior, the same year.58 Peru became the next South American country to purchase large naval vessels from Britain during the second half of the 1950s. Two modernized Ceylon Class cruisers were transferred in a deal completed in 1960.59 This sale drew particular criticism from Chile, which perceived the Peruvian naval acquisition as a threat to security on its northern flank.

Accusations of a laissez-faire attitude towards arms proliferation Britain’s apparently laissez-faire policy towards arms sales in the 1950s was severely criticized and brought the country under intense pressure from Washington and later from Santiago, whose President Alessandri was conducting a personal crusade to reduce spending on arms by trying to persuade the South American countries to agree to a policy of ‘self-denying ordinance’. The USA argued that the spending on naval arms by Argentina, Brazil and Peru during the period 1955–60 was unnecessary for hemispheric defence and that the types of warships acquired by these countries were purely for purposes of prestige. Chile expressed grave concern too about the consequent imbalance in naval power on the west coast of the continent and the strategic advantages the imbalance handed its neighbour Argentina. The British Government countered these accusations by stating yet again that, once political and strategic considerations had been accounted for, responsibility for any naval arms purchases should rest firmly with the client nation. Although the FO was prepared to

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 132

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

133

acknowledge the opinions of its critics, it maintained that ultimately Britain’s own economic interests came first, outweighing any moral responsibilities. In May 1957, the US State Department expressed disquiet through diplomatic channels that the imminent purchases of aircraft carriers by Argentina and Brazil, referred to above, would place considerable strain on the respective countries’ finances just when they needed the money for civil projects such as the production of hydro-electricity. The requests made for these warships were considered to be ‘absurd’ and ‘simply a question of prestige and vanity which it was in no one’s interest to encourage’. In a later communication, it was noted that the State Department had been embarrassed by news of the sale of HMS Vengeance to Brazil and the offer made to Argentina. In future it would demand ‘full and frank consultation on any proposed deal’ and demanded that any such meetings should be held in Washington.60 The State Department’s obvious frustration at the interference caused by the British offer to sell the carriers is understandable. It made a mockery of the intentions which lay behind the sale of heavy cruisers to Argentina, Brazil and Chile in 1951 by means of separate bilateral agreements. More significantly, in the longer term, it upset its plans for a unified defence strategy for the region. The British response to the American objections was summed up in what amounted to a ‘position paper’ produced by the FO American Department in June 1957. In this paper, entitled ‘Sales of Naval vessels to Latin America’, Henry Hankey argued that Britain was subscribing to the view that a balance of power would be maintained if these capital ships were offered to the two leading South American naval powers. In the case of Argentina, the US had been informed of the negotiations due to the delicate state of affairs over a settlement of the Antarctica differences. In answer to the US assertion that the cost of renovating the Brazilian Minas Gerais would amount to between $50 and $60 million and the country’s reserves totalled just $59 million, Hankey countered that British Cabinet approval had been granted because, contrary to American estimates, it was felt that the sale would not place undue strain on the Brazilian economy.61 In conclusion, Hankey conceded that, while extravagant spending on arms by South American countries might impact unfavourably in the future on the United States, nevertheless it was in Britain’s economic interests to proceed as planned. Therefore he recommended offers of cooperation without agreeing necessarily to alter existing policy.62 The problem remained that the US would question why there was a lack of cooperation in the case of Latin America if Britain had been prepared to consult beforehand in order to prevent prospective clients elsewhere in the world from

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 133

04/12/2013 08:14

134

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

playing one country off against another. To counter this it was argued that for Britain to side with what was termed the ‘governessy attitude’ adopted by the US would run the risk of alienation from potential Latin American trading partners, who would equate the policy with the worst aspects of ‘economic imperialism’ and bitterly resent being told that such purchases were unaffordable. The desire for these countries to possess a limited number of prestigious warships was considered understandable. In the case of aircraft carriers, these would be very few in number, particularly as the chances of Argentina acquiring such a ship had recently diminished. Latin American countries would also resist attempts to prevent them from replacing or adding to their existing cruiser forces. In that respect, it was argued that there was little to choose when comparing the strategic value of a modern destroyer and an obsolescent cruiser.63 This latter comment was a reference to the fact that the design of the US cruisers sold in 1951 all dated from the 1930s. On the other hand, Britain was in the process of building very modern destroyers for Chile and also for Venezuela. Throughout the autumn of 1957, the State Department maintained pressure on Britain to accede to its requests for restraint, spurred on by the news that the UK was also in negotiations with Peru over the sale of destroyers. The terms of a proposed compromise position were despatched to Washington, in which Britain agreed to inform the US regarding proposed sales of capital ships but not cruisers or minor war vessels. It was added that, in the light of the above, Britain had failed to comply with the American request not to sell destroyers to Peru and had not accepted the right of the US Government to veto any future arms deals.64 The apparent lack of any sense of moral obligation with respect to arms proliferation can be judged by the reaction within the FO to an unofficial approach made by the Venezuelan President to Vickers-Armstrong concerning the possibility of that firm constructing an aircraft carrier. It was concluded that, as an oil-rich country, Venezuela could easily afford such an expensive warship and the United States was unlikely to raise any objections when Britain consulted Washington over the matter.65 The next year the sale of the aircraft carrier HMS Warrior to Argentina was completed with only muted protest from Washington. However, from the British point of view, the fact that this carrier was only able to operate piston-engined aircraft was the key reason why the sale was permitted to go ahead. Such aircraft were not considered to be a threat to RN vessels operating in the South Atlantic. Although the USA had, at an earlier stage, warned that the consequences of Britain providing Argentina with an aircraft carrier would make the Chileans

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 134

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

135

feel compelled for reasons of prestige also to try to buy a carrier, the impact of the decision, again taken with apparent disregard for the balance of naval power in the Southern Cone, was not to be felt immediately.66 The agreement between the USA and Britain over the consultation process was not put to the test for nearly two years, and then it was Chile rather than the US that was to lead the protest. In October 1959, news reached the Foreign Office through diplomatic channels that Chile was deeply concerned over the sale of the cruiser to Peru, mentioned above, and particularly that negotiations were underway for the transfer of a second vessel. Two arguments were presented. First, the acquisition of the second cruiser would certainly upset the balance of power on the west coast. Second, it was the opinion of the present administration in Santiago that any naval matériel purchases should be made for defensive purposes only and undertaken in the interests of corporate, continental defence. In that respect, the Foreign Office was told that the Chileans now regretted the purchase made by the previous government of the Almirante Class destroyers, both in terms of expenditure and because it recognized that Peru was purchasing the first cruiser in retaliation for what it perceived as a regional power imbalance. Although the FO argued that the Chileans were acquiring modern destroyers instead of second-hand cruisers, which would put them at a strategic advantage, in fact the two Ceylon Class cruisers had been extensively modernized in the UK prior to their sale to Peru.67 The FO was initially embarrassed by the potential threat to relations with the US, particularly concerning the second cruiser, but despite pressure from both Santiago and Washington an official announcement was made in Lima in mid-December 1959 stating that the deal would go ahead. The Americans expressed ‘regret’ but accepted the decision to proceed. There was a further note to the effect that Chile was already taking steps to strengthen its ties with the US, and thus distance itself from Britain, by pressing for an acceleration of the warship loan programme. The Chilean Ambassador in London was reported to have commented that, ‘As a great power (Britain) was in a position to exert considerable moral influence in South America, and this was an occasion on which it could have done so.’68 It later transpired that the Foreign Secretary had personally deleted the paragraph in the telegram sent to Lima suggesting that the British Government was prepared to withdraw its offer of the second cruiser if the Peruvians thought it would adversely affect the arms limitation proposals. Selwyn Lloyd did not support President Alessandri’s initiative because he thought the Americans had instigated the whole matter anyway with the aim of preventing Britain from profiting from the arms export trade in South America.69

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 135

04/12/2013 08:14

136

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

The last occasion during this period when the British Government demonstrated a flagrant disregard for both South American naval arms limitation initiatives and regional tensions occurred in 1964 regarding the sale of HMS Centaur.70 This aircraft carrier had been declared surplus to requirements and it was reported that both the Chilean and Argentine navies had expressed interest in acquiring the ship. The Argentines wanted to replace Independencia with Centaur, while the Chilean Navy, predictably fearful of its rival’s increasing naval air superiority, also requested to buy the ship. In April 1966, the FO was alerted to the Chilean Navy’s firm intention to purchase. A price of £3.5 million, and an identical amount earmarked for refit work together with the acquisition of aircraft, represented an export prospect of considerable importance. There were calls for a swift resolution to this issue owing to the pressure being placed on the Foreign Secretary by his opposite number in the Washington State Department, Dean Rusk.71 The Treasury, meanwhile, felt that that neither nation could afford the ship. Moreover it argued that, by offering Centaur to rival nations, Britain was risking international condemnation for stimulating an arms race and vilification at home for the lack of coordinated action being shown by different government departments.72 Buoyed by the prospect of further lucrative contracts for new-build warships and submarines, the FO agreed to the sale of the carrier to Argentina. It did recognize this time the necessity of contacting its staff in Santiago beforehand for advice on the delicate matter of explaining the decision to the Chilean Government. This was considered especially important as it had informed the Head of Naval Sales that President Frei had been assured recently that Britain would not be selling Centaur to any South American country.73 In what must be considered a further low point in the Anglo-Chilean naval relationship, it was reported later that the senior Chilean officers who had lobbied vigorously in favour of Centaur now felt deeply aggrieved with British intransigence over the matter and suspected US machinations.74 In the event, Centaur was not sold, and the most lucrative part of the proposed Argentine order for the new-build warships also foundered.

An outmoded defence exports organization The increased confidence in Anglo-Argentine relations brought about by the successful ARA Independencia deal had been influential in the negotiations

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 136

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

137

which took place during the 1960–2 period which nearly resulted in a contract worth £20 million being awarded to Yarrow to build four Leander Class frigates and for J. S. White of Cowes to construct six minesweepers. The stumbling block in this instance proved to be the Export Credit Guarantee Department of HM Treasury, which refused to accept cover for 90 per cent, as opposed to 75 per cent, of the risk involved in allowing payment for the ships to be phased over seven years. With the Admiralty and Foreign Office ranked against the Treasury and the Board of Trade, it took a Prime Ministerial adjudication in favour of the latter before the issue was resolved in January 1962.75 Both the HMS Centaur affair and the above example demonstrate a lack of coordination at the time between government departments. The FO veered between paying ‘lip-service’ to the idea of curbing arms limitation and being attracted by the revenue which might accrue from second-hand or new warship sales to South American customers. At the same time, the department appeared impervious to the consequences of favouring one rival nation over another. The Treasury at least maintained a consistent line in questioning the wisdom of entering into long-term credit agreements with financially unstable nations. It also wisely expressed doubts about the actual defence needs of the recipient nations. The Board of Trade adopted an equally sceptical attitude this time within the context of Britain’s wider export prospects. Where did this organizational disharmony leave the Royal Navy in its role as an instrument of foreign policy? By this time, the mid-1960s, it was part of a much larger defence organization which had taken over the running of export sales within the wider context of the creation of the MoD in 1964. However, in terms of status, in comparison with the FO or the Treasury, the Navy now found itself in a diminished position – in Eric Grove’s words, ‘arguing a specifically naval case at the highest level could no longer be the cutting edge of the Admiralty’s argument’.76 The determination to pursue naval export sales to South America and elsewhere at this time, irrespective of the disapproving noises emanating from Washington, was tempered by a realization that Britain’s arms export record was unsatisfactory and that the whole sales organization at home and the way it was managed abroad needed to be reviewed and updated. However, this proved to be a lengthy and cumbersome process that required the consultation and approval of a number of interested parties including the individual services, the Treasury, the Foreign Office and the Board of Trade. The matter had been addressed in the form of a paper entitled ‘Export of Arms’, prepared for the Prime Minister by the Cabinet Secretary in March 1958.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 137

04/12/2013 08:14

138

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Among the immediate concerns was the fear that the decreasing demand for arms production at home would make it harder to recover research and development costs on new weaponry. Innovations in naval technology, for example, were demanding significant amounts of money to be spent in such areas as the development of guided weapons, gas and nuclear propulsion and higher-performance naval jet aircraft. Increases in exports were seen as a way of retaining capacity in an industry where the economic rewards were attractive because prices for imported materials were low and currency earnings correspondingly high.77 A decline in demand was certainly affecting the home shipbuilding industry. The reduction in orders for RN ships was proving particularly damaging in a sector also suffering from the pressure of a temporary world downturn, particularly in mercantile orders between 1958 and 1961. Anthony Slaven identifies the cause as the long-term systemic failure by British shipbuilders to adapt, as countries such as Japan and Germany had done, to the opportunities offered by an expanding and changing overseas shipping market.78 Nevertheless, the downturn does need to be placed in context. Statistics show that defence expenditure took a higher proportion of the country’s GDP in the post-war period to 1968–9 than had been the case in the 10 years prior to World War One and in the interwar period, 1920–37. Significantly in terms of Britain’s wider post-war economic prospects, G. C. Peden states: ‘In these circumstances economic analysis suggests that defence expenditure contributed to Britain’s slower economic growth compared with countries that devoted less of GDP to defence.’79 However, the underlying impetus for change in practice was missing. The 1958 ‘Export of Arms’ paper demonstrated that, although the need to increase sales was recognized, there was insufficient incentive to bring about substantial change. It ended with no recommendations other than the somewhat vacuous suggestion that, although it was not their primary function, it would be helpful if attachés could be made more aware of the importance of arms sales.80 It was still the perception at the time that the sale of arms constituted an unwanted diversion for service personnel. For instance, a Strategic Exports Committee memorandum, written in 1959, claimed that involvement in such matters formed ‘an unwelcome distraction’ and an extra burden for the attaché, who might be regarded by defence manufacturers as their unpaid agents.81 The reluctance of the armed services themselves to become more actively involved constituted one barrier to increasing revenue from this source. Another concerned the political expediency, but not the moral efficacy, of selling

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 138

04/12/2013 08:14



Success in the Face of International Opposition, 1945–65

139

defence matériel to such regions as Latin America, and this posed a particular conundrum. The FO concluded in 1961 that in most parts of the world there was no necessity to make a particular sales effort. However, South America still represented one of the best export markets in terms of revenue. The value of arms exports to countries not part of the Commonwealth or alliance partners amounted to £20 million per year, which represented a significant 12.5 per cent share of the total. To take advantage risked courting international controversy, but this was a gamble the FO was still prepared to take.

Conclusion The two decades following World War Two were momentous in terms of Britain’s struggle to remain a front-rank world power. The financial effects of the war, and the pressure to spend money other than on defence, inevitably affected many aspects of British foreign policy. This embraced the future role played by its navy in a distant part of the world like South America that was increasingly being seen as part of the US zone of influence. However, as has been shown, the need to earn hard currency and to support a struggling shipbuilding industry at home meant that the effort to exploit a traditionally lucrative market for naval export sales continued unabated throughout this period. And there were notable successes in terms of both new and secondhand sales. But success came at a price. The laissez-faire attitude adopted by successive British Governments throughout the 1950s and the first half of the 1960s in choosing to ignore criticisms regarding arms proliferation, suggests a fundamental abnegation of responsibility by what had hitherto been regarded as one of the world’s foremost nations, one which might have been expected to lead by example.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 139

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 140

04/12/2013 08:14

6

A Comparative Study: The Fate of the US Post-War Defence Plan for South America, 1945–65 During the 20-year period following the end of World War Two, Britain and its navy retained a foothold in South America. Traditional links with the Royal Navy and the reputation of British shipbuilding had brought much-needed hard currency for the struggling UK economy in terms of second-hand naval sales. By comparison, new warship construction exports were comparatively rare, as many South American navies availed themselves of the offers made to acquire ex-USN vessels considered surplus to requirements following of the end of the world war. Importantly, the influence of the RN, if measured solely by the presence of the White Ensign in the region, declined markedly. Political disagreements with Argentina and Chile, over the sovereignty of the Falkland Islands and Antarctica in particular, made it inappropriate for the Royal Navy to resume its regular programme of interwar goodwill cruises between the continent’s seaports. More pertinently, the reduced size of the Navy meant simply that it no longer possessed the resources for the task. The RN’s struggle to respond to a series of crises in Antarctica and the decision to close the America and West Indies Station in 1957 were symptomatic of a world power and its navy in decline. It would be incorrect to imply that the United States deliberately filled the vacuum left by the British, because it was already the dominant economic force and had undertaken military control of the region during World War Two. However, part of its post-war plan for Latin America was to introduce and to orchestrate a defence structure based on standardized hardware and a common set of practices. In the absence of any alternative plan it was able to proceed.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 141

04/12/2013 08:14

142

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

US post-war plans for South America This chapter will examine the strategic importance of South America to the United States as perceived in the immediate post-war period and how its vision for a unified defence to counter the expected threat to stability from the spread of communism and rabid nationalism was carried out through measures introduced under the Mutual Defense Assistance Act (MDAA). It was hoped that this would result in a multilateral agreement with all Latin American countries. The measure was to be introduced through a series of bilateral agreements between the United States and the individual nations concerned. From a naval perspective the measures used by the US Navy to bring its influence to bear on the region as a whole were more or less the same tactics as those adopted by the Royal Navy in the period 1926–33 during its three naval missions to Chile. Initially, a regular naval presence was exercised through the traditional method of making goodwill visits. Later the introduction of the UNITAS exercises allowed opportunities for yearly professional exchanges between personnel. Naval missions were established in several countries with reciprocal ones located in Washington. Opportunities for training to be undertaken in the United States were provided for both officers and other ranks; this practice was introduced during World War Two and expanded thereafter. Underpinning these initiatives were the offers made through the Mutual Defense Assistance Program (MDAP), which followed the MDAA passed by the US Congress in 1949, to equip the South American navies with US-built naval vessels, submarines and associated equipment. Three brief case studies demonstrate the impact of the American plan in relation to Brazil, Chile and Venezuela. Although the multilateral nature of the MDAP suggested a unified approach, the reaction of each of these countries to this initiative, although varied, pointed to a basic fault in the plan. An examination of the progress of the MDAP through the 1950s and early 1960s demonstrates the difficulties the US encountered in keeping to its overall designs for the region and for satisfying the very different needs of the member states. Eventually, the burden of financially sustaining this programme proved impossible and it became necessary to curtail some of the web of support provided due to budgetary restraints. During World War Two, the US had been anxious to convey an impression of unity among the 20 Latin American states, under the umbrella of the Monroe Doctrine. However, the commitment of 130,000 United States troops to defend the region, coupled with the many bilateral defence pacts established which

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 142

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

143

led to the establishment of American bases across the continent, made several nations in the area suspect this strategy was ‘another manifestation of Yankee domination’.1 The United States had emerged from the war with a large surplus of fairly new warships, amphibious ships and submarines. These vessels were robustly constructed although not necessarily technologically advanced.2 To be eligible to acquire this second-hand equipment, the countries concerned had to have ratified the Inter-American Reciprocal Assistance Treaty (1947), agreed at the Rio summit that year, and to have paid the original cost in cash prior to delivery. Progress made towards the passing of the MDAA in 1949 was painfully slow. Following bilateral consultations with the participating Latin American states, the Inter-American Defense Board had approved a resolution called the ‘Standardization of Matériel’ in October 1945. A further consultation period ensued before President Truman presented a bill to Congress in both 1946 and 1947 entitled ‘The Inter-American Military Cooperation Act’. This would authorize the US to provide training, organization and equipment for the armed forces of the participating countries. On both occasions, Congress resolved not to act on the proposed legislation, causing further delays before the Act was finally passed.3 The US philosophy regarding naval export sales differed considerably from the British approach. Whereas the latter were concerned to support the home shipbuilding industry and therefore potentially willing to build, or to sell second-hand, any type of warship and even the most technologically advanced equipment, the Americans were hidebound by strategic considerations coupled with the ideological sensibilities expressed by some members of Congress. The official plan for the region envisaged the creation of a group of specialized antisubmarine warfare navies practised in US tactics and using a common set of equipment. The acquisition of so-called ‘prestige’ warships, which might lead to distracting and costly local rivalries, was to be discouraged. The tardy progress of the MDAA through Congress was not the only concern facing those who saw the need for a strengthened hemisphere defence to counter the rise and spread of communism. In 1945 there was genuine concern expressed in Washington that the US was appearing to treat Latin America with indifference. The change in administration caused by the unexpected death of President Roosevelt brought into question the commitment of the new incumbent in the White House to the principles of the Monroe Doctrine and his predecessor’s ‘Good Neighbor Policy’. Indeed, during Harry S Truman’s presidency, the region did not rank as a foreign policy priority. While Europe

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 143

04/12/2013 08:14

144

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

received about $25 billion in economic and military assistance, Latin America’s share was just $1 billion in state investment. Moreover, it was suspected that Truman possessed a scant knowledge of the region.4 Two confidential documents, written for the personal attention of the President in 1945 and 1946, highlighted the concern felt by foreign relations officials in Washington in the early months of Truman’s presidency. John Wiley, a government official, urged a clear re-affirmation of the Good Neighbor Policy, warning that the US would be faced with serious political problems unless its principles were ‘set in cement’. If such advice was not heeded, Wiley argued, there was a serious danger of communist infiltration in many countries. The second paper entitled ‘Confidential Memorandum on Latin America’, couched in the starkest of tones, described relations as ‘rapidly deteriorating’, adding that the Good Neighbor Policy had been perceived as an ‘expediency’ on the part of the United States during the war and that in the absence of any official pronouncement it was being quietly shelved. Communism was seen as a threat, despite limited and in some countries declining membership, because of its ability to exploit social unrest and ‘Yankeephobia’.5 By 1952 it was the popularity and spread of nationalist regimes, typified by the Perón presidency in Argentina, which caused deep concern, as this form of nationalism stood in direct opposition to notions of cooperation with a superpower from outside the region. The trend to take control of foreign-owned assets such as mining and oil interests, railways and public utilities was perceived as a real threat, particularly in time of international tension or war when sabotage or punitive measures might disrupt US access to strategic materials. A Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) report that year identified Bolivia and Guatemala as having similar regimes in power to that of Argentina, with Peru, Colombia and Venezuela as next most vulnerable states likely to follow.6 Despite his reported lack of concern about Latin America, Truman had bowed to advice from the Pentagon in Spring 1945 to hold an inter-American conference to address defence issues of common concern. This move was to lead to the signing of a treaty for coordinated military defence of the region. However, there was opposition from State Department officials, who argued against the notion of a communist infiltration of Latin America, opposed plans to militarize the area and complained that the US could not afford it. This delayed the Rio Conference for two years. When the conference did convene in September 1947 it was agreed that the United States would coordinate the region’s defence policy, control the supply of arms and equipment to its allies and assist in the training of Latin American military officials.7

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 144

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

145

It would be naïve to attach altruistic motives to the US plans for Latin America. The scale of strategic, economic and financial involvement was colossal. In 1950 some 35 per cent of United States imports, valued at $35 billion, came from Latin America. A considerable part of this comprised strategic materials: 100 per cent of vanadium, 95 per cent of castor oil and quartz crystal, more than 80 per cent of crude petroleum and fuel oil. Furthermore, Brazil, Chile and Venezuela were becoming increasingly vital suppliers of the basic ingredients of the giant American steel industry, providing both iron ore and manganese. Any sizeable disruption to the import of non-strategic materials, such as coffee, sugar and bananas, would also have extremely serious consequences. Additionally, Latin America was of great importance with regard to the US export market, nearly matching in value that of Europe. Moreover, foreign private investment in the region totalled over $6 billion in 1950, outstripping that of non-western hemisphere regions.8 Plans for a system of western hemisphere defence cooperation had been aired before the outbreak of World War Two in relation to Brazil. The self-same reasons which were to be forwarded post-war had been used by President Roosevelt in 1938 in the face of perceived threats to the continent from increasingly belligerent and bellicose states in both Europe and Asia. In summation, Roosevelt had argued that mutual defence cooperation with Latin America would help to ensure the United States its supplies of strategic materials in time of war.9 Negotiations progressed steadily after the signing of the Rio Treaty, and by the fourth consultation meeting in March 1951 bilateral agreements had been concluded by the US Government with Chile, Uruguay, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Cuba and Brazil to base their military plans on the principle of collective hemisphere defence.10 In October of the same year, the Mutual Security Act was passed by the US Congress permitting grant assurance to be provided for Latin American countries.

Exerting influence through the offer of training facilities Training provision was perceived as key if US plans were to succeed, particularly in the technically demanding and difficult skills of anti-submarine warfare. Of course, this concept extended beyond proficiency in operating equipment and incorporated basic education and ethos. After 1945, in respect to South America, the US was faced with a range of practices. Countries such as Brazil

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 145

04/12/2013 08:14

146

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

and Peru had established US naval missions since the early 1920s. By contrast, Chile, as shown earlier, had been heavily influenced by British naval standards and training methods. Therefore, owing to the requirement for standardized practices, the US needed to provide a comprehensive programme from the outset. One can contrast this with the rather faltering approach adopted by the British in the interwar period, vacillating between the benefits of offering training to non-UK naval personnel and restricting access due to security considerations. In 1952 it was recommended that a share of the funds allocated under the grant-aid military assistance programme should be used to strengthen naval training facilities in Brazil, Chile, Colombia and Peru, or to establish new centres. These facilities would be for instruction in the use of US naval equipment and would be staffed by local specialist personnel who in turn had attended US Navy schools in the United States. After the training centres had been established for this purpose it was expected that they would become self-sufficient. US control extended to the types of training recommended for each country. Thus the Department of Defense allocated engineering and basic electronics to Brazil, gunnery and fire control, basic electronics and information training to Chile, engineering, gunnery and damage control to Colombia and anti-submarine warfare, submarine attack and basic electronics to Peru.11 The philosophy underpinning this initiative, and the extent of the American ambitions for the project, can be deduced from the following memorandum by Secretary of State Dean Acheson: The Department is informed that, in addition to utilization of such centers for training of naval personnel of the host countries, the Department of the Navy contemplates that they might also be used, with consent of the governments concerned, to train naval personnel of other Latin American countries. It is their view that such utilization would encourage Latin American countries to assume a greater share of responsibility for training for hemisphere defense, would promote cooperation among Latin American naval establishments, and would help to overcome the language barrier confronting most Latin American students receiving training in the United States.12

The training programme described above was in fact the culmination of plans devised over a decade earlier. During World War Two the ground had been prepared for increasing US involvement in Latin American naval affairs. Efforts were made both to familiarize some of the formerly Europe-oriented navies with American methods and to offer training. For example, in 1941, 11 of the most

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 146

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

147

senior South American naval officers were invited to tour US establishments in the spirit of ‘goodwill and personal relations’, and to give these high-ranking officers ‘an opportunity to observe the development in activities of the United States Navy’. The first chance for exerting US influence on training took place when 20 Chilean Air Force personnel completed a nine-month course at the Naval Air Station at Corpus Christi, Texas in 1943 following the acquisition of some maritime patrol aircraft under the lend-lease scheme.13 Immediately post-war, there were opportunities to attend the US Naval Post Graduate School and other educational establishments, including civilian universities.14 When the necessary legislation had been passed regarding foreign officers, access to the prestigious Naval Academy at Annapolis also became available. Later, advanced courses for the operation and command of vessels were being provided at Newport or Monterey (The US Naval War College), or at Annapolis.15 The extent of US penetration can be measured by the fact that in 1953 the United States Government had Army, Navy or Air Force Missions in all of the Latin American republics with the exception of Argentina and the Dominican Republic.16 A network of programmes meant that 1,382 Latin American naval personnel received training in the United States in that year alone. By the following year, $110.4 million dollars of grant-aid money had been provided, with Brazil, Chile, Colombia and Peru being the principal recipients.17 However, all US efforts made in this direction did not go according to plan. Individual Latin American countries continued to purchase military equipment, particularly jet fighters and naval vessels, from sources other than the United States. More attractive credit terms and assurance of prompt delivery were singled out as significant reasons. Although it was felt that these acquisitions did not pose serious threats to the immediate future of the service missions themselves, they did affect standardization of equipment objectives. It was conceded that, if the trend continued, the influence of the missions would suffer in the long term.18 The second area for concern was the lukewarm response to the Truman administration’s call for Latin American participation and cooperation during the Korean War. Although recipients of aid had pledged to cooperate by providing the United Nations with armed forces, in the event only Colombia responded by sending a military force including a frigate.19

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 147

04/12/2013 08:14

148

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Sale and transfer of ex-US naval vessels In September 1950, plans were finalized which would lead to the first tranche of naval vessels being offered to seven Latin American countries under the terms of the MDAA. Somewhat surprisingly, Argentina, Brazil and Chile, sometimes appropriately referred to as the ‘ABC’ naval powers, were each allocated two cruisers in addition to smaller anti-submarine warfare vessels.20 This move appeared to contradict United States policy and thinking on two grounds. First, the concept of a united Latin American naval force, whose primary task in war would be to defend the sea lines of communication in order to ensure the safe arrival of convoys of strategic materials in US ports, would not require large, surface warships. As the Cold War progressed, the nascent Russian submarine force, which was to grow exponentially in size and ambition during the 1950s and early 1960s, only served to reinforce the planners’ view that the Latin American navies needed competent anti-submarine forces and not ‘prestige’ warships. Second, the US had publicly employed the argument that it was concerned not to encourage an arms race in Latin America, and certainly this was one factor that accounted for the slow progress of the necessary legislation on arms supply. In 1946, Congress had rejected a move to extend military cooperation with Latin America beyond the realms of naval missions. However, what Washington failed to do was to acknowledge – or more likely it deliberately chose to ignore – the preoccupations of many countries in South America which were primarily concerned with any military advantages their neighbours might be acquiring, despite reassurances about a hemispheric defence policy and the continuing relevance of the principles of the Monroe Doctrine. In fact, concern over the depth of commitment to the collective cause of hemisphere defence was recognized at the time, as a National Security Council report warned in May 1950: ‘In approaching the problem of interAmerican military collaboration most of the Latin American leaders will be inspired by their own ambitions, and by fears regarding their neighbors, than by the basic requirements of hemisphere defense.’21 The Brooklyn Class ships, despite being classed as ‘light cruisers’, were large vessels each displacing over 12,000 tons fully laden, with a powerful surface armament of no fewer than 15 6-inch guns. On the debit side, the design was nearly 20 years old. They were acquired at a time when the major navies of the world were disposing of these manpower intensive, conventionally armed warships which were considered vulnerable to attack by the latest jet aircraft

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 148

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

149

and could only be employed with any confidence in a traditional naval surface action with foes of a similar kind. Ironically though, 30 years later one of the Argentine cruisers, ARA General Belgrano (previously USS Phoenix), with its pre-war armour and considerable firepower, was to offer a real threat to the modern British fleet during the Falklands War. The official explanation for the thinking underlying the final shape of the ABC cruiser allocation appears equivocal both in substance and in tone, in marked contrast to the precise plans for Latin America laid out in the MDAA: It is understood that the Navy made this tentative allocation primarily on the basis of the need of these countries for these ships in their probable role in hemisphere defense; other factors considered were the governments’ traditional friendship to the United States and whether the government had requested this type of ship. 22

The ‘probable role’ these major warships would be expected to undertake is not articulated, nor is it clear on what basis the Navy Department reached a conclusion about its country’s ‘traditional’ friends. The allocation of the cruisers to the ABC South American countries effectively re-shaped the balance of naval power in the region. Robert Scheina claims that Argentina’s pre-World War Two resolve to maintain a ‘two-power standard’ in relation to its regional rivals ‘altered in one stroke to 1A=1B=1C’.23 More importantly, the US had orchestrated this move and would be held accountable for its consequences. In this respect a particular problem related to Peru, whose naval ambitions were broadly on a par with those of Chile. Scheina notes that an early draft of the agreement suggested that Peru would also receive two cruisers.24 Colombia, Chile and Venezuela chose to reject the destroyer escorts (DEs) which were offered to all the nations concerned and which formed the main part of the recommended programme. For Colombia and Venezuela the offer came too late; Colombia was in the process of buying ex-Swedish destroyers and Venezuela was negotiating for the construction of Italian-built destroyer escorts. Chile, on the other hand, rejected the DEs because this type of vessel would lack the speed which would enable it to integrate with a task force built around the cruisers.25 This apparent slight was significant on two counts. First, the offer of this type of warship, a dedicated anti-submarine warfare (ASW) vessel, was of course consistent with the US policy of steering the Latin American navies towards a specialized role. Second, the rejection of this ship indicated the divergent view on future strategy envisaged by the Chilean Navy in comparison

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 149

04/12/2013 08:14

150

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

with the American vision. Destroyers with a ‘fleet speed’ capable of escorting the cruisers would enable the Chileans to counter any aggression on the part of neighbouring navies.26

Joint naval exercises Almost a decade after the initial transfer of surplus naval vessels a true milestone in inter-American naval cooperation was reached with the inaugural UNITAS exercises.27 There had been recognition among the naval planners in Washington that the objective of hardware standardization was unlikely to be achieved overnight and a pragmatic argument was accepted which suggested that its realization was not necessary in the short term.28 This no doubt accounted for the fact that what became an annual programme did not commence until 1959. Although the US Navy had conducted bilateral ASW evolutions with several South American navies during the 1950s, the first, genuine, multinational exercise involving Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay and Venezuela had to be delayed. It had taken much of the decade for the US to draw these disparate navies together for joint exercises and to inculcate a degree of acceptance that their future roles would be dedicated to the complicated art of ASW. Eli Vinock claims that the impetus for this initiative came from senior-ranking Latin American naval officers who had been invited to attend the annual US Chiefs of Naval Missions Conference in Panama in Autumn 1959. The stated purpose of this gathering was to give the Director of Pan-American Affairs, a US Navy Rear-Admiral, an opportunity to meet with them with the aim of ascertaining how the work of the several missions could be made more effective. Contrary to expectations, according to Vinock, the South American officers themselves proposed regular joint exercises with US Navy ships in order to improve their countries’ anti-submarine skills, and it was from this fairly generalized proposal that the specific UNITAS plan emerged.29 Other commentators have inferred that the whole process was orchestrated by the Americans, with the celebrated Admiral Arleigh Burke, Chief of Naval Operations 1955–61, its chief architect.30 The problem remained of organizing multilateral exercises in the light of the numerous disagreements and past conflicts between individual Latin American countries that threatened to dispel any sense of unity. A compromise solution was to despatch a group of American warships, submarines and aircraft on a circumnavigation of South America, during which naval exercises would be conducted with each country in succession.31

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 150

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

151

The gap between the planning phase and its execution was comparatively short and US Task Force 86 departed Trinidad on 27 August 1960. Despite the concerns about these countries working cooperatively, even on its first deployment the US warships managed to exercise successively with combined Venezuelan–Columbian, then Peruvian–Chilean and finally Brazilian– Argentine–Uruguayan naval forces. Time Magazine noted optimistically that old naval rivalries were set aside, and commanding officers circumvented the language barrier by carrying out manoeuvres in accordance with the International General Signal Book. Importantly, opportunities were afforded for the Latin American navies to familiarize themselves with the use of modern submarine detection equipment to be found aboard the well-equipped US Navy ships.32 The concept of ‘combined exercises’ was to grow with succeeding UNITAS exercises. By 1983, the former Secretary of the US Navy, J. William Middendorf II, was able to claim that for 25 years, with the exception of the interruption caused the previous year by the Falklands War, UNITAS had provided a vital opportunity for the US to work with its Latin American allies. In that time, the US Navy had witnessed progress being made from rudimentary ASW evolutions to sophisticated, coordinated exercises in a ‘triple-threat’ (surface, sub-surface, air) environment.33 According to Scheina, UNITAS had served to bring together naval rivals such as Brazil and Argentina, although not Chile and Argentina. It had also consolidated tactical methods and doctrine, introduced a common usage of English for operational communication and the employment of NATO tactical manuals as the accepted rule books for exercises. On the debit side, despite the regular transfer of matériel, the Latin American navies still lagged behind the US in terms of technological equipment and expertise, which in turn rendered the exercises somewhat meaningless in the context of the latest developments in anti-submarine warfare.34 Despite the affirmative publicity that has been afforded the UNITAS exercise programme since its inception, it has been suggested that the concept fell short of providing the huge area involved with a genuine inter-American security system. For example, in 1950 it was envisaged that a joint hemisphere force would be used to protect the following Latin American strategic ‘choke-points’: The Panama Canal and its approaches, the Mexican coastline, the Venezuelan/ Trinidad/Curaçao–Aruba oil area, the so-called Natal–Dakar Straits of northeast Brazil, the River Plate estuary, the Straits of Magellan and the rail and harbour outlets for the shipment of strategic raw materials between Mollendo

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 151

04/12/2013 08:14

152

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

in Peru and Antofagasta in Chile.35 Andrew Hurrell, writing with particular reference to the eastern seaboard of the continent, claims that the security system as originally formulated was a loose one, a reflection perhaps of the fact that the US assessed the external threat to the area as low. Sergio Jarpa, considering the needs of the west coast, reached the same conclusion. Although the bilateral agreements between the United States and individual countries on the Pacific littoral provided a legal framework for military intervention, none of these agreements dealt with the actual organization and response mechanisms to be used in time of crisis or war.36

Deteriorating relations with Brazil The major problem facing the US was the ‘one size fits all’ nature of the MDAP. Although the nations with limited naval requirements were generally content to follow the lead of their powerful northern neighbour, this view was not shared by all. As well as the suspicion that the whole project was a form of economic exploitation, countries such as Brazil and Chile had long and proud naval traditions and, when the economic climate allowed, usually operated technologically advanced fleets. Others such as Venezuela, although initially politically unstable during the period under question, sought to pursue a more independent stance made possible by its natural resources. It might have been expected that Brazil would readily embrace the MDAP for economic, political and military reasons. During the period 1940–50 the country obtained just under half its total imports from the USA, while just over half its exports went to the United States. Brazil’s administration at the time perceived that support for US strategic objectives during the war years could have long-term economic benefits. Second, the South Americans regarded the USA as its natural, and perhaps sole, ally in containing Argentine ambitions to achieve regional leadership. Third, it had a tradition of military cooperation with the United States. It had contributed significantly to the allied victory in 1945, most importantly allowing its territory to be used for air bases. Brazilian troops had been sent to Italy in late 1944. From a naval point of view, its seagoing forces played an active role in convoy escort work in the South Atlantic, particularly important in view of the expanded area of operations of German U-boats during the middle war years.37 Stanley Hilton presents a contrasting description of the state of the relationship at the end of World War Two. He argues that Brazilian leaders were resentful,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 152

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

153

having been let down by Washington in a ‘trail of broken promises’ early in the war which had failed to provide the military equipment so urgently needed. This feeling of discontent at its treatment by the US had been ‘fermenting’ since before World War Two.38 Nevertheless, the Dutra administration (1946–50) did not see the need to make changes to external policies, based on the belief that US support for the country would continue and on the assumption that Brazil was still regarded as a ‘special case’ in Latin America by the northern superpower. It failed to recognize that a shift in priorities had taken place which meant that Latin America as a whole had assumed a low position of priority for the United States in the face of its new global responsibilities.39 This in turn affected the way in which plans for a successful post-war naval partnership with Brazil were received in Washington following talks between officials from the two countries that had taken place during the closing weeks of the war in Europe. These discussions are recorded in a letter from the US Ambassador to Brazil to the US Secretary of State. On the surface, it was stressed that the United States still regarded Brazil as a close and important ally. It had been the assumption as part of the dialogue that it was ‘the desire of the United States that Brazil (would) be able to play a strong and cooperative role in the maintenance of hemispheric defense as a component of post-war order, thereby relieving the United States of the military burden and political embarrassment of playing this role directly in South America.’ The pivotal role among South American navies that Brazil was expected to take pointed to the ultimate ambition of the US not to be burdened with the responsibility of committing its own forces to the defence of this vast region. Nevertheless, in the interim, the US Naval Mission was set to continue and the existing training provision would be enlarged. 40 Although the Brazilians and the North Americans were thus seemingly in accord, there were disagreements about the size of the fleet needed to undertake the role. The Brazilian Naval General Staff proposed that the US should be the provider of a very ambitious programme of naval vessels including two Nevada Class battleships, two Independence Class light aircraft carriers, four Cleveland Class cruisers, 15 destroyers, nine submarines and sundry auxiliaries. Interestingly, no mention was made as to who would pay for this huge programme. Moreover, its composition was of distinctly questionable strategic value. As the Ambassador’s report states perceptively, ‘Such a fleet could not be challenged from within the hemisphere; equally it would be wholly ineffective against challenge from a strong power from without the hemisphere.’ The

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 153

04/12/2013 08:14

154

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

recent war had exposed the vulnerability of the battleship particularly, and the Brazilian proposals reflected an outdated concept with its emphasis on a powerful surface-action fleet rather than one which recognized the new supremacy of naval air power. In addition, the Brazilians had no experience of operating large modern warships such as the proposed cruisers and aircraft carriers. Thus, if the plan was to be realized, the US would be required to undertake the extra expense of providing the necessary expertise.41 In 1951 Brazil acquired one ex-Brooklyn Class and one ex-St. Louis Class cruiser as part of the MDAP, and these warships constituted the only tangible outcome of the 1945 discussions.42 The new Republican administration in 1953 quickly showed it was not prepared to commit large sums of US public money towards capital projects for Latin American economic development, as it believed that this would lead to a form of dependency which hindered sound economic stability in the recipient country. Thus, it seemed increasingly unlikely that Brazil would achieve its naval superiority through preferential treatment as a special ally. As described in Chapter 5, in 1952 Brazil revised its future naval programme and was looking to European countries in addition to the United States as possible providers. However, the fact that Brazil did not respond to the call for cooperation during the Korean War, together with a perceived rise in nationalist influences within the country, was considered indicative of an increasing estrangement between the former close allies. By 1954, military relations with the US had reached a low point, with the Brazilian high command suspecting that the administration in Washington was deliberately prevaricating over a promised $50-million re-equipment package for its armed services. In addition to the above, the Brazilians were also unhappy that the agreed formation of a Joint US–Brazilian Military Command Board had not materialized, two years after it had been proposed. The naval staff was described as ‘very irritated’ by the fact that they had not obtained from the United States a ‘baby’ carrier, two submarines and four destroyer escorts, as promised. The authorities were threatening to reduce the scale of the US Naval Mission, slow down improvements to their naval bases and reduce privileges at the strategically important US naval radio facility in Recife. Ironically, this catalogue of discontent came at a time when the Pentagon was looking to expand its facilities on Brazilian territory with an Army radio relay station, an Air Force guided missile tracking facility and an expansion of the Navy’s intelligence gathering presence in Recife.43 On this occasion, the US Navy officials were quick to inform their South American counterparts that the desired naval vessels were simply not available.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 154

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

155

It was explained that the US Reserve Fleet was considered inadequate to justify the transfer and that, given the scale of the request, Congressional approval would have to be sought.44 As a result of this rebuttal, Brazil turned to other sources and obtained ex-HMS Vengeance from Britain in December 1956. Two years later the Brazilians pressed the US again, this time for electronic equipment for the newly named aircraft carrier Minas Gerais as a component of the expanded US grant-aid programme. This presented a dilemma. The US Department of Defense argued the case for providing the equipment for reasons which had nothing to do with the inherent risk of incurring a naval imbalance of power in the region and little to do with the goal of providing the means by which the South American navies would focus their attention on ASW. Its arguments in support of the sale were primarily focused on the quid pro quo advantages which might accrue and which would lead to the successful installation of the proposed missile tracking station on the island of Fernando de Noronha. The Secretary of State’s Department foresaw problems in convincing Congress of the efficacy of this scheme and of persuading other South American countries that, by providing equipment to Brazil, it was not signalling that support would be offered to other nations (Argentina and Chile) who would also be anxious to acquire carrier air power.45 Despite these reservations, the State Department showed its willingness to support the sale. Although this period of US–Brazilian military relations (1945–58) ended with both sides achieving their true objectives, at least to a degree, the years since the end of World War Two marked a steady deterioration in the state of what had come to be regarded by the South Americans as a special relationship. Brazil had expected to attain a position of continent-wide pre-eminence in naval power, but this notion had been thwarted by a shift in priorities on the part of the US, for whom the strategic importance of the continent became less in the post-war era. Although Brazil turned elsewhere to gain its naval requirements and thus became the first South American country to acquire an aircraft carrier, it would be several years before it could operate an effective naval air wing. US disapproval of this acquisition played a significant part in the delay in realizing this goal. Moreover, Brazil did not receive preferential treatment as far as the MDAP was concerned. By 1961 only the two cruisers mentioned earlier had been transferred, together with four ex-Fletcher Class destroyers and two submarines.46 It has been shown that US foreign policy objectives regarding Brazil, both during and after World War Two, were primarily influenced by global rather than regional considerations. Access to Brazilian territory for military bases,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 155

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

156

and later for intelligence gathering and missile tracking, were the driving forces, rather than the delivery of military aid in which Brazil expected to be a favoured recipient. By contrast, US relations with Venezuela in the immediate post-war decade were dictated by the expediency of ensuring that influences from elsewhere were nullified.

Retaining control over Venezuela and its defence needs Venezuelan oil was considered to be ‘of prime strategic importance to the Western Powers’. In the event of war, its geographical situation was thought to be relatively secure in contrast to the vulnerability of the Middle Eastern oilfields. In 1951, 40 per cent of the 588 million barrels of oil which Venezuela exported went to the United States, with Western Europe taking a further 25 per cent. The country’s deposits of high-grade iron ore constituted a second, strategically vital commodity. Again in 1951, the US imported nearly 700,000 metric tons of this raw material. Its dependency on Venezuelan iron ore deposits was forecast to rise to 13 million tons by 1960.47 Given the above, it would have been surprising if the US had not tried to bring its influence to bear on the politics of the country, particularly at a time when internal unrest threatened its stability. The so-called ‘October Revolution’ of 1945 heralded three years of democracy in the country before the elected government of Rómulo Gallegos was overthrown as the result of a military coup. It was alleged that there was US complicity and that the coup also received the support of the principal oil companies operating within Venezuela: Creole (Standard Oil of New Jersey), Shell and Mene Grande (Gulf Oil). Subsequently there has been debate about the extent and nature of US involvement and particularly the relationship between the powerful oil companies and the reforming Acción Democrática Party (AD) to which Gallegos belonged. This has ranged from claims of manipulation to a more conciliatory approach being adopted over time. The potential threat, and the cause of much of the debate, has centred on the true motives of the AD. Bethany Aram detects a division of opinion in Washington. The Department of State and the CIA considered the AD as a ‘reformist, democratic, pre-American bulwark against communism’, while the army regarded the party as the instigator of social chaos which might both threaten US access to Venezuelan oil and cooperate with communist elements.48 In comparison with other South American nations, Venezuela traditionally maintained relatively small armed forces. The army and the National Guard (a

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 156

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

157

professional security force) comprised the most powerfully political elements within the military establishment. Prior to the 1950s, the Navy had been nothing more than a limited coastal force. However, this was to change in the light of the country’s financial prosperity as an oil exporter, aided by the sympathetic attitude towards the military shown by President Pérez Jiménez. The Venezuelan Navy was radically modernized with the addition of three British-made destroyers and six destroyer escorts constructed in Italy. In Robert Scheina’s words, ‘Unlike Venezuela’s acquisitions in previous decades, the ships were by world standards thoroughly modern, first-class units, not a major power’s discards.’ Perhaps symbolic of its new-found status, the Navy ultimately played an active and prominent role in the overthrow of Pérez Jiménez in 1958.49 Naturally, the United States sought to impose a control over the development of the Venezuelan Navy in this post-war period, but it faced problems similar to those it encountered elsewhere in South America at the time, namely its inability to meet on time the requirements for naval modernization being urgently demanded by individual countries. The contract for the building of the three Nueva Esparta Class destroyers caused particular consternation in Washington. A subsequent investigation (1950) showed no evidence of unfair business practices on the part of Vickers-Armstrong, together with the absence of any agreement or understanding on the part of the British Government not to sell military items to Venezuela. The conclusion was reached that the British offer was simply more attractive than any the US could make at the time. The main criticism which could be levelled was the failure of the administration to respond to the Venezuelan Navy’s initial enquiry about the possibility of purchasing destroyers from the US which had been made in October 1949. By December of that year, information was received that negotiations with the British had reached an advanced stage and a possible blocking tactic was suggested which would see one destroyer being offered to the Venezuelans on loan with the promise of more to follow. No response was forthcoming, probably because Venezuelan minds were already made up, and the contract was signed with Vickers in June 1950.50 Two years later, reflecting on this matter at some length, the US Ambassador to Venezuela warned that, unless his country was able to meet the needs of an expanding navy, this strategically important country would turn increasingly to European sources of hardware, US naval missions would be replaced and the declared key objective of standardizing both equipment and techniques would not take place. By 1953 the contract with Ansaldo to build up to six destroyer escorts had already been signed and the fleet destroyer project was underway.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 157

04/12/2013 08:14

158

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Therefore a sizeable proportion of the Venezuelan Navy’s expansion plan had been realized within a very short period of time.51 The absence of any foreign debt and the ability of the country to pay for purchases in dollars contributed significantly to this achievement. Venezuela continued to pursue an independent line with regard to naval purchases throughout the course of the decade in pursuit of the completion of its expansion plan. Its determination to continue to acquire the latest designs of vessels was demonstrated in the negotiations, which ultimately failed, to have submarines of the RN’s brand-new Porpoise Class design built by VickersArmstrong. Certainly its most radical proposal was made by President Pérez Jiménez himself in 1957, when he inquired about the possibility of having a 25,000-ton aircraft carrier built in the UK, together with two 9,000-ton cruisers as part of Stage Two of the naval programme. The President disclosed that France and Italy had also been consulted regarding the matter.52 The degree of estrangement in terms of US–Venezuelan naval relations can be measured by the fact that, until 1973, no ex-US warships were sold to the South American state with the exception of an ex-Balao Class submarine in 1960 which was subsequently used only for training purposes.53 This case study demonstrates the problem faced by the US administration in controlling the military ambitions of a rich nation in the face of countries, such as Britain, which were willing to meet their needs in return for prompt payments made in much-needed dollars. The dilemma for the Americans in searching for a solution is summed up in a 1960 briefing paper for a meeting of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff. The fact that Latin American countries had not been made party through the various bilateral and multilateral agreements with the US to the establishment of maximum levels of naval forces meant that there was a natural resentment by them to any actions which sought to deny access to equipment purchased from foreign suppliers such as those in Europe. If the US was unable to match offers made from elsewhere, in terms of both quality and cost, realistically it could do nothing to prevent such deals taking place.54

Influencing Chile’s navy Chile’s strategic position on the western seaboard of the continent, coupled with its wealth in raw materials, made it vital to secure as an ally in hemisphere defence. As World War Two drew to a close, the American Ambassador Claude Bowers made stringent efforts to encourage a rapprochement between Santiago

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 158

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

159

and Washington. The American strategy was astute, as it sought to expose Chile’s weaknesses if it persisted in maintaining an independent or a neutral policy. If the country was not prepared to join the other Latin American states in some form of hemisphere defence alliance, it would not be able to correct any misunderstanding regarding its neutrality policy during World War Two which had only been rescinded at a very late stage. References were made to its future prospects in terms of defending its own coastline. The Japanese threat to its unprotected littoral during World War Two had exposed the country’s vulnerability in time of conflict, causing a good deal of concern particularly in 1942. There can be little doubt that these arguments, directed as they were at the seat of government rather than via the traditionally pro-British Navy, played an influential part in the subsequent decision to ask for a US naval mission and to accept US technical assistance, training and matériel. Although Emilio Meneses has described the relationship between the US Navy and the Chilean Navy between 1945 and 1975 as a ‘period of cooperative dependency’, the initial phase proved particularly awkward. In a situation very like the one the US found in Venezuela, the Chileans were anxious to achieve the much-needed modernization of its naval forces as soon as possible and the Americans were hampered by the requirement to pass the necessary military aid legislation through Congress.55 Just as Admiral William Fisher had advocated two decades previously, US adoption of the provider role for the Chilean Navy demanded the same pluralistic approach which would include the establishment of a naval mission as soon as possible, a supply of modern warships and, later, the offer of regular training opportunities. What was different, however, was the fact that the US initiative, driven by the new realities of the Cold War, was perceived as an urgent political requirement. The resulting persuasive, even aggressive, approach was not appreciated by the independently-minded Chileans. In the 1920s the British, unencumbered by motives other than the desire to encourage warship exports in particular and trade in general, could afford merely to show ‘interest’ in the country’s affairs through a regular RN presence in Chilean ports. This was in the knowledge or hope that a positive outcome in terms of shipbuilding contracts would be forthcoming in the long term. How Chile might realistically contribute to any form of hemispheric defence at the time was another matter. Its Navy had reached ‘its lowest point regarding warships and arms systems’ immediately following World War Two, with the backbone of its forces comprising a First World War battleship, a 1901-vintage cruiser and some unmodernized destroyers and submarines built two decades

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 159

04/12/2013 08:14

160

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

previously.56 The Navy’s most urgent needs were listed in an extraordinarily extensive and detailed inventory prepared in January 1946. If nothing else, this document demonstrates the extent to which its stocks of even the most basic materials for its naval arsenal had been depleted through years of neglect.57 Little progress was made in the initial phase of the US–Chilean naval partnership, especially to meet Chilean re-equipment needs. The acquisition of three second-hand tugs/patrol vessels and some auxiliaries in 1946–7 failed comprehensively to meet its wider fleet modernization requirements. Considering that its search for replacement cruisers had been on-going for over a decade, it is small wonder that the Chilean Naval Staff ’s attention again turned to the British, who were continuing to make offers of both new-build and second-hand warships. However, from the outset of Videla’s presidency in 1946, the government in Santiago had shown a determination to purchase its major warships from the USA in future, despite occasional ‘flirtations’ with the British by elements of its frustrated naval staff. The President told the visiting Admiral Leahy so in November 1946, adding that his naval C-in-C, Admiral Merino, also preferred American-built warships.58 However, nothing over the next couple of years persuaded Videla or his Navy that the required ordnance would be made available. Even the interim programme of supply under the terms of the Surplus Property Act, which had provided the Chilean Navy with the small patrol vessels and auxiliaries in 1946, terminated in 1948. A policy statement on Chile prepared by the US Department of State in early 1951 perceived the country as being friendly towards the United States and willing to cooperate. The copper industry was singled out as the most important economic factor in the relationship, with 95 per cent of the output produced by wholly-owned subsidiaries of two US firms and most of the production being consumed by the United States. In view of this, the statement emphasized the need to provide Chile with the means to carry out a naval role specifically related to the maintenance of security and order at sea, the safe passage of the vital raw materials through its territorial waters, the guarding of key ports and coastal facilities and some measure of protection for the strategic Straits of Magellan.59 However, Chile’s ambitions outstripped the restrictive nature of operations envisaged by this categorization. The sale of the two cruisers in 1951 was the first significant step taken by the US to address Chile’s urgent naval modernization requirements. However, although the navy now had some more modern ships at its disposal, the lack of familiarization with advances in naval technology over the past decade

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 160

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

161

had taken its toll on efficiency and morale. The policy statement implicitly recognized this fact, referring to the need for the US to assist development and to provide training. To this end, the two countries signed an agreement in February 1951 for the establishment of advisory air and naval missions to be located in Santiago and Valparaiso respectively. The choice of the word ‘advisory’ is significant, echoing as it does the Chilean Navy’s initial insistence on the use of the term in the 1920s ahead of the arrival of the first British Naval Mission. Just as the British had influenced several generations of Chilean naval officers through offers of training both at home and in the UK, so the US recognized the importance of education and instruction as a basis for successful future naval cooperation. By 1983, 185 officers had graduated from the command course at the Naval War College at Newport, Rhode Island.60 In 1961, following a decision made by the Chilean naval authorities to reform the Escuela Naval in Valparaiso, a US academic adviser was invited to visit and to provide a report including recommendations. As a result, the curriculum and working methods at the academy were modified in the mid-1960s. Around the same time, some Chilean naval graduates from the War College in Monterrey brought about significant changes to the technical and engineering programmes.61 Thus, within a comparatively short space of time, the US Navy had managed to exert its influence on an entire generation of Chilean naval officers through the provision of ready access to educational facilities and courses tailored to suit the requirements of a US-satellite navy. However, the legacy of the British influence remained, certainly in the minds of senior and thus influential naval officers who had been imbued in RN traditions and practices. The British Naval Attaché’s Annual Report on the Chilean Navy for 1958 provides a perceptive insight into the state of the relationship between the two countries and their navies at the time. Captain Gower’s report advises that Britain still had an important role to play in terms of naval matériel support. Although a US special mission was currently negotiating the loan of two second-hand destroyers and two submarines, this could only be counted as a temporary measure. However, the attaché also referred to the fact that the older Chilean destroyers were being reconfigured as anti-submarine escorts with US weaponry, a clear indication that the wider US strategic plans were beginning to take effect, and the two heavy cruisers it had sold to Chile had been recently refitted in US Navy shipyards. As evidence that Britain’s previous monopoly on new construction had also been broken, two naval ships, a tanker and an ice-strengthened patrol vessel, were currently under construction in France and the Netherlands respectively.62

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 161

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

162

The most pertinent section of Gower’s report dealt with his assessment of the current relationship with the Royal Navy. This he still rated as ‘very good’; the RN was ‘regarded with high esteem and affection’ by the Chileans. Although the Chilean Navy had developed its own identity over the years, its outlook and traditions were still clearly influenced by its long association with the RN. There remained a marked preference for British-built ships and equipment, and Gower remained confident that this would remain in force. While the above remarks might have constituted grounds for encouragement, Gower then commented on the effect of the increasing presence of the United States Navy: Nevertheless the influence exerted by the United States Naval Mission during the twelve years of its existence combined with the material aid received from the United States and the very large number of visits paid to Chilean ports by ships of the United States Navy has had its effect on the professional outlook of the Chilean Naval Officer.

The Naval Attaché went on to suggest that the influence was more marked among junior rather than senior officers, as many of the former were now visiting the US to undertake courses. The senior officers, on the other hand, while accepting the economic realities of their country’s close ties to US, feared the long-term impact on ‘their greatly prized independence and traditions’. This in turn explained the Chilean Navy’s reluctance to accept the rational proposal for standardization of equipment.63

The achievements and failures of the Mutual Defence Assistance Plan By 1960 the United States had apparently achieved a good deal with regard to the creation of an effective inter-American defence force schooled in USN procedures, equipped with ex-US Navy ships and on the way to becoming skilled, ASW-focused navies. The ‘ABC cruiser’ deal, under the terms of the MDAP had broadly reset the balance of naval power in South America, thus negating the pre-World War Two advantage created by Argentina. On the other hand, the concession made by the US over the cruisers, which some considered to be unnecessary anyway, did not seem to fit the overall strategy of creating small, interdependent naval forces predominantly composed of escort-sized vessels. Additionally, what was principally European arms sales-related interference in the region during the 1950s threatened both to upset the balance of naval forces and to divert scarce funds away from the purchase of ex-US vessels.64

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 162

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

163

In 1956 the MDAP had been in operation for over six years. It was realized that the extent of the rehabilitation costs involved in returning the transferred ships to operational standards was very considerable, reckoned to be in the order of $24.92 million. The matter caused dissent within Washington. Some assumed these amounts to be reimbursable and not part of the grant-aid scheme. Others, including the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Department of Defense, felt that if a country was unable to meet the costs, these amounts should be defrayed through military grant aid. The countries concerned were consulted and at the time only two, Uruguay and Cuba, refused to shoulder the financial burden.65 In this respect, as highlighted earlier, the problems involved in reconciling bilateral agreements with multilateral strategic plans were considerable. The MDAP had been negotiated on a bilateral basis following World War Two. On the matter of the payment of the rehabilitation costs it would have been simpler and more satisfactory to make a multilateral ruling. But this was not possible, as the Americans themselves could not demonstrate that they were acting fairly. For example, rehabilitation work on the Brazilian acquisitions was to be paid for entirely by the US on a quid pro quo basis for the use of land for defence facilities, as previously mentioned. This was expected to upset the Peruvians who, having had to purchase submarines from the Electric Boat Company, were now witnessing the Brazilian Government being exempted from the extra costs. Although relations between these two countries were sound and there was no naval rivalry, any preferential treatment shown towards Chile, for example, would also be the cause of considerable agitation on the part of Peru.66 Despite the fact that the programme of assistance would be expected to promote unity among the Latin American navies and serve to strengthen the region’s anti-submarine capabilities in hemisphere defence, a key factor in the decision-making process concerned the need to counter the European sales of naval vessels. It was conceded that the US could not compete in this respect simply because it did not have the ships available to sell.67 At the end of the 1950s the funding level involved in delivering the MDAP was becoming unsustainable. Between 1952 and 1959 it was calculated that it had cost the United States $206 million.68 In 1958, when the necessary legislation had been enacted, the same countries that had agreed to accept the rehabilitation costs collectively pleaded that their fortunes had declined substantially in the interim and that they would be unable to pay for the work to be undertaken. By the time that spending plans for Federal Year (FY) 1960 had been drawn up, it was accepted that the US was not in a position to release surplus

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 163

04/12/2013 08:14

164

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

warships in the near future, variously to Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Cuba, Ecuador, Peru and Uruguay. Moreover, it was anticipated that Congress would reject the notion of absorbing the rehabilitation costs or else substantially reduce the level of subsidy offered to the extent of offering to pay for one vessel only.69 The general dilemma facing the US Department of the Navy at the time centred on attempts to reconcile not only the individual needs of eight Latin American countries but also an increasingly limited federal budget and a fairly intransigent Congress. This conundrum is evident in a memorandum dated January 1962 which discussed a proposal to allow an ocean escort to be built in Argentina to an American design. In the naval staff ’s opinion, what at the time was considered to be a fairly radical proposition might be enough to deter the Argentines from awarding the contract to the British for four Leander Class frigates, a matter mentioned briefly in the previous chapter. Discussions regarding the UK contract were at an advanced stage and finances for the construction of the frigates had already been allocated by the government in Buenos Aires. The memorandum clearly highlights the difficulties facing the Department in the light of Congress’s refusal to date to allocate additional funding, despite the agreed inter-American naval policy: The US Navy has been trying desperately to find some way to provide Latin American countries with ships which the Navy considers they require to discharge the ASW mission which has been established by US policy as a legitimate role for Latin American navies to perform.70

It was concluded that the US Navy’s options were both limited and problematic. Although a further ship-loan programme of ‘mothball fleet vessels’ might be considered favourably, it would require new legislation to be passed through Congress. This would be a costly option and would be opposed by some members of the Senate. Moreover, countries such as Argentina and Venezuela had recently shown preference for new rather than war-surplus vessels. Assistance would be required if warships were to be constructed in Latin American naval yards. Lastly, showing this kind of preference to Argentina would upset both Brazil and Chile.71 The US Navy reacted to this mounting crisis by excluding all Latin American countries from the programme in 1963, with the exception of Venezuela, and informing Brazil, Chile and Peru that their current requests would be forwarded to Congress for consideration in FY 1964. A letter and a memorandum, both dated Spring 1963, admitted in frank terms that, after eight years of trying,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 164

04/12/2013 08:14



A Comparative Study

165

the plan for the recipient countries to absorb rehabilitation costs had been a failure. Once again, regional naval rivalries were perceived to be the root cause. Although not mentioned by name, this must have been a reference to Argentina which had acquired three Fletcher Class destroyers in 1961 and had promptly paid for the rehabilitation costs. The US had bowed under pressure of this intense lobbying and, as a consequence, 90 per cent of the work had been paid for under grant aid.72 The net result of the protracted negotiations and lengthy delays to the aid programme meant that the vessels themselves were becoming increasingly venerable and even obsolescent by the time they were finally re-commissioned. This decreased their value in the eyes of the recipient navies as well as adding to their on-going maintenance costs. Moreover, by the mid-1960s the US Navy had practically exhausted its supply of war-surplus ships. Scheina notes this factor as a cause of declining American influence, whereas European rivals such as Britain, Germany, France and Italy were now able to compete in the Latin American market by offering new construction.73 The Department of the Navy had long considered the creation of an InterAmerican Naval Coordinating Authority to be a particularly important step towards the overall objective of effective hemisphere defence. By 1965, with the immediate threat of the outbreak of World War Three receding, it was possible to make a more structured and long-term strategic case for the multinational employment of the Latin American navies. It was envisaged that the Naval Coordinating Authority would administer control of shipping duties in the Caribbean and South Atlantic on a standby basis during peacetime. In the event of war it would assume the status of a naval command in the execution of this duty. If brought to fruition, the Coordinating Authority would lend considerable credence to the Latin American navies’ ASW role, as ‘control of shipping’ necessarily implied that the warships would be primarily tasked with convoy escort duties.74 The US Navy had been working on this concept for a decade and it was thought that it might justify the future granting of military aid in order to equip the Latin American navies with adequate ASW capabilities. However, a memorandum in December 1965 conceded that, although there was a valid strategic requirement for such a force to be created, it was not likely to succeed. The timing of such an initiative was considered to be wrong and a substantial minority of Latin American countries were known to be opposed to what was to be titled ‘The Inter-American Peace Force’. The memorandum recommended that the idea should be consigned to the ‘deep freeze’. In the event, a

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 165

04/12/2013 08:14

166

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

‘Plan Para la Coordinacion de la Defensa del Trafico Maritimo Interamericano’ (PLANDEFTRAMI) was formulated, not as an operational template but rather as a recommended course of action for signatory countries to organize and control shipping in time of tension or war. 75 The creation of The Inter-American Peace Force would have satisfactorily accomplished US strategy for hemisphere defence. It would have provided a suitable focus for the annual UNITAS exercises, reinforced the importance of ASW and allowed the navies concerned to cooperate employing standardized equipment. But the failure of this plan should not mask the fact that, within the space of 20 years, the US had effectively assumed control of the material requirements of most of the Latin American navies. Although there had been problems along the way, by 1965 these countries were largely equipped with ex-US warships.

Conclusion Despite these efforts, ultimately it had proved impossible effectively to suppress the problem of regional naval rivalry that, together with the controversy over grant aid, seriously disrupted the MDAP.76 The problems with passing the necessary legislation through Congress had made it difficult for the US to respond quickly enough to the modernization needs of several of the South American countries. The difficulty of establishing a satisfactory multilateral framework for defence through a series of bilateral agreements was a formidable if not impossible task. The risk of alienating individual countries, as in the case of the US’s hitherto closest ally, Brazil, was perhaps inevitable. Moreover, by the end of the period in question, circumstances and the aspirations of several of the more advanced South American republics had changed anyway. From a regional perspective, as Hal Brands notes, there was a common rejection of the Cold War ‘as an organizing framework for regional affairs’.77 Instead there existed an urge to establish solidarity with other Third World countries and to rebuild economic relations with Europe.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 166

04/12/2013 08:14

7

The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9

During the 1960s a number of factors contributed towards a strengthening in relations between Britain, its navy and several South American navies, those of Argentina, Brazil and Chile particularly. This was to culminate towards the end of the decade in a number of highly lucrative contracts being secured by British shipbuilding firms for naval vessels to be constructed in UK yards. The driving forces behind this period of success include a greater receptiveness on the part of South American countries towards trade with Europe, and a fresh set of practices with regard to arms sales introduced by a now unified British Ministry of Defence. This was supported by a new government committed to increase exports and a navy forced to embrace changes in practice in order to meet the demands of a country in the process of entering a post-imperial phase. Most importantly the Royal Navy, in supporting its country’s renewed commercial interest in the region, provided a regular presence during this decade and, unlike in previous years, arrived in South American seaports in impressive numbers.

A changed economic climate By the mid-1960s, it was recognized that the political climate had altered and that Latin America as a whole was more receptive than it had been in the recent past to renewing commercial links with Europe, including the purchase of arms. The reasons for this change were twofold. First, for a decade or more following World War Two, trade and the defence market in particular had been dominated by the US which had sought to equip as many navies as possible with secondhand warships and submarines. Recently, however, owing to its wholesale

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 167

04/12/2013 08:14

168

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

involvement in the Vietnam War, the US had less equipment left to sell and was unable to sustain its portion of the refurbishment costs for what were now increasingly venerable war-built vessels.1 Second, many Latin American countries had been anxious to lessen their dependence on their northern superpower neighbour and correspondingly looked to increase commercial and other links with Europe, and with Britain in particular. Michael Morris, in describing what he categorizes as ‘independent Third World navies’ which include the 20 Latin American states, argues that a number of factors lay behind their exponential growth in the post-World War Two period, particularly after 1955. First, there was the relationship the country in question had with a developed nation, which was likely to be the main provider of naval matériel in the absence of an indigenous supplier. Circumstances might force a change in the identity of the provider, as proved to be the case with some South American states in their relationship with the USA during this period. Second, regional rivalry and the acquisition by an unfriendly neighbour of more advanced technology served to stimulate expansion and to promote local arms races. Third, the popularity of declaring expanded ocean zones brought with it policing responsibilities for up to three boundary delimitations in the form of, first, the declared territorial sea, second, the exclusive economic zone (EEZ) and third, the continental shelf.2 A number of writers have explored the reasons why commercial links with Europe were sought in the early 1960s as an alternative to the dependence of the South American republics on the USA. In reviewing the historiography of the period, Heraldo Muñoz refers to the interest shown by Latin American writers in the preference for ‘Diversification of Dependency’ that meant that Latin American countries reduced reliance on one or a few external providers by expanding the number of international contacts, particularly in Western Europe.3 Joaquin Fermandois, arguing from the point of view of an individual state, demonstrates that during the presidency of Eduardo Frei (1964–70) the Chilean administration’s disagreements with Washington over policy-making, coupled with the country’s traditional inclination towards autonomy of action, resulted in a campaign to review relations with European Common Market countries and with the UK. Fermandois suggests that Frei’s visit to Europe in 1965, and the subsequent exchange of state visits with Queen Elizabeth in 1965 and 1968, served to symbolize this revisionist approach to foreign relations. From a broader perspective, others conclude that this change was a reaction to the perceived hegemony of the United States. Jeffrey Taffet, for example, sees the difficulty the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 168

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 169

US faced in convincing Latin American countries of the efficacy of its ‘Alliance for Progress’ foreign aid project was due to the widely-held perception that it was President Kennedy’s and therefore the United States’s plan rather than an agreed multilateral partnership.4

Why the Royal Navy returned to South America Three key events in 1964 contributed indirectly, but vitally, to stimulate the requirement for a regular Royal Navy presence in South American waters so that, by the end of the decade, it could be argued that its involvement was as strong and secure as it had been at any time since the 1920s. First, the election of a Labour Government in Westminster, following a lengthy period of Conservative Party rule, brought with it a determination to re-examine Britain’s future defence requirements. This was driven by an imperative to reduce public spending and this requirement carried profound implications for the future role of the ‘Senior Service’. Second, the new government instigated a thorough reform of the defence export sales organization with the aim of increasing revenue from this source. Third, a fresh impetus for change, stemming from the creation of the Ministry of Defence, led to a thorough reappraisal of the continuing worth of naval ‘goodwill’ visits in support of peacetime foreign policy objectives including the country’s commercial interests. This involvement needs to be examined within the context of the determination by the 1964 Labour Government to reduce spending on defence which constituted only the latest in a series of challenges to the future status and role of the Royal Navy. Indeed, its position as a front-rank naval power had been under continuous threat since spending on defence had been subjected to close scrutiny following the end of World War Two. For example three reports, in 1948, 1952 and 1957, had successively called for reductions in the size and capability of the Navy.5 During the period 1965–8 particularly, the requirement for and the means by which the RN would continue to undertake operations on a worldwide basis was to be questioned as it had never been before by the political decisions of a government resolute in its determination to reduce spending.6 The implications of the decision taken in Cabinet in February 1966 to cancel the construction of a large aircraft carrier, usually referred to by its code name CVA–01, coupled with the announcement in January 1968 that Britain’s complete withdrawal from bases east of Suez would be brought forward to 1971,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 169

04/12/2013 08:14

170

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

effectively demolished the most important argument the Navy had used since 1957 to justify the retention of a global capability. The decision to ameliorate the withdrawal of forces from the Middle and Far East had been caused by a further deterioration in the balance of payments deficit in autumn 1967 which culminated in a devaluation of the pound in November.7 Soon after the Labour Government assumed power in October 1964 it was realized that its resolution to reduce spending on defence to below six per cent of GNP, approximately £2,000 million, could only be achieved if quite drastic action was taken. Would this ‘drastic action’ result in a reduction in defence capability or a reduction in overseas commitments? G. C. Peden claims that the Treasury had set its sights on the latter; it had singled out the east-of-Suez defence commitment as a suitable target for economy as early as July 1960. It was argued, for example, that British investment in the Far East and India yielded £60–£65 million per year, whereas the annual defence expenditure for the whole region also amounted to nearly £60 million. The 1966 Defence Review included the decision to cancel CVA–01 and to phase out the strike carriers. Eric Grove states that the announcement ‘caused shock waves to reverberate through the entire Royal Navy’, while the First Sea Lord, Admiral Terence Lewin, in a series of speeches made a decade later, repeatedly made the point that the event constituted the severest reversal suffered by the Navy during his time in the service.8 The withdrawal of forces from east of Suez brought the prospect of the Navy’s role being effectively restricted to anti-submarine warfare tasks in the North-East Atlantic as part of the NATO alliance. There would no longer be the requirement to mount expeditionary warfare operations employing amphibious forces. Once the carriers had been finally phased out, the RN would largely lose its ability to project power or to undertake sea denial operations. While these facts alone presented a bleak enough scenario, from the Navy’s point of view arguably the most damaging long-term aspect of this whole affair was its lamentable inability to mount a suitable defence of its strategic value. This was demonstrated when the Naval Staff attempted to argue for the retention of the strike carrier capability in the face of the plausible case mounted by the RAF in support of its ‘island base’ strategy. The Defence Secretary Denis Healey was particularly dismissive of the Naval Staff ’s performance: ‘The navy argued the case for the carrier badly; I had to keep sending its papers back to be made more persuasive. The air force, on the other hand, was represented by two able lawyers … They made rings round the navy, carrying the army and the Chief of the Defence Staff, Dick Hill, with them.’ Eric Grove remarks

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 170

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 171

that, following the creation of the MoD, senior naval staff generally lacked the debating skills of their equals in the other two services. This was because the RN had ‘never stressed systematic staff training and education in the higher aspects of the profession’.9 Edward Hampshire’s exhaustive analysis of the events leading to the cancellation of CVA–01 serves to ‘flesh out’ the weaknesses exposed in the Navy’s defence. Two factors may be highlighted. First, both the Navy Minister Christopher Mayhew and the First Sea Lord David Luce appeared to lack the mental agility and the nous to counter the ambitious young Defence Secretary, who was anxious to make a name for himself as a prelude to greater things. Second, the Navy’s argument was narrow and dogmatic. There were opportunities presented during the intense discussions in the winter of 1965–6 for the Navy to exploit the wider ‘maritime capabilities’ of the big carrier, the favourable cost comparisons between the advanced Buccaneer 2* and the F–111 and the hitherto untested RAF theory that its planes could adequately conduct defensive air patrols in deep ocean areas. Instead, Mayhew and Luce limited their arguments to the carrier operating without allies in the intervention role against a sophisticated opponent. It was expected that such a scenario would only apply to the Far East, which further limited the case for committing huge sums of money to what was a very major defence project.10 Hampshire refers in several instances to a fact that has been generally overlooked in the long and intense debate which has followed this landmark decision. It seemed to have been accepted by all sides that the employment of the aircraft carrier in the land-strike role would be redundant by 1980, after which Britain’s east-of-Suez defence commitments would have ended. Aircraft carriers in the power projection role would be redundant, having been superseded by guided missiles. The earliest in-service date for CVA–01 would be 1972–3, and part of the Navy’s longer-term strategy envisaged a CVA–02 and 03, as the RN’s current carriers were both ageing and too small to operate the next generation of jet aircraft in sufficient numbers. Therefore simple logic would suggest that the huge expenditure involved in a project of this kind would not be cost-effective, a point which seems to have been ignored by those arguing the Navy’s case.11 It is against this background of deep disappointment over recent government decisions that the RN had to plan its future peacetime strategy. This included the unpalatable prospect of its personnel taking a more active part in selling naval matériel abroad in support of the country’s export drive and to boost the prospects of an over-inflated naval shipbuilding capacity at home. There was

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 171

04/12/2013 08:14

172

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

resistance to certain aspects of this undertaking, as there had been in the past. There persisted an underlying assumption that the mere presence of a Royal Navy warship in a foreign port was sufficient stimulus for other events such as commercial enterprise to follow, without the need for active involvement on the part of service personnel. The predicament for Britain in the mid-1960s, driven by economic difficulties to adopt a more proactive approach towards arms sales, meant that it was no longer possible for its navy to adopt a lofty detachment with regard to such matters. The commissioning of the Ministry of Defence resulted in two important reports being produced which affected the way in which defence export sales were to be conducted in future, and which questioned, as never before, the actual value of the Royal Navy’s involvement in the country’s overseas commercial promotions including the sale of naval ships and equipment.

Changes to the British defence exports organization, 1964–5 From the point of view of the British economy, the arguments forwarded in favour of pursuing arms contracts, and naval arms contracts in particular, would have been familiar to the ears of those similarly involved in the interwar years. Naval shipbuilding and ship-refitting were still deemed to be attractive business propositions, as the profit margins were greater than in the case of their merchant ship equivalents. Moreover, useful revenue could be accrued from second-hand sales while shipbuilding itself helped to sustain employment in what were often economically depressed areas of the United Kingdom.12 The perception that Britain’s arms export record was unsatisfactory had been apparent for a number of years. Now, faced with a deepening financial crisis, and an economically resurgent Europe prepared to mount a challenge in an arms market traditionally shared between Britain and the USA, the desired approach ‘lay somewhere between aggressive salesmanship and ensuring that a potential customer is aware of what is available for purchase in the United Kingdom’. In other words, Britain could no longer afford to adopt what was essentially a passive strategy based on its long-held position as a world leader in arms production.13 By 1964 the requirement for change had gathered momentum. The role which should be adopted by the service attaché once again came under scrutiny. Here, the traditional view held by senior uniformed officers, that service personnel should not be involved in selling arms, surfaced once again. Additionally, the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 172

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 173

Conservative Defence Minister at the time, Peter Thornycroft, was advocating the creation of a network of defence attachés rather than single-service attachés, with or without assistants for particular purposes.14 Predictably, the Minister’s ideas did not accord with those of the working party tasked with the review of their role. The service representatives, whose views contributed to the ‘Lloyd Report’, rejected the notion of an integrated structure. Instead, its members recommended a continuance of the existing structure with the ‘nominal’ defence attaché, presumably tasked exclusively with arms sales, exercising no direct authority over the three services.15 One can detect in this debate an understandable reticence by the armed services to accept what amounted to a further assault on their traditional autonomy in the year the MoD was formally established. However, recognition of the need for change meant that the suggestions being forwarded by the Strategic Exports Committee and the Secretary of State for Defence were to find a direct correlation with the recommendations regarding the attaché structure contained in a key report on defence exports commissioned by the new government the following year. Mark Phythian describes the dilemma faced by the incoming Labour administration in 1964, which was anxious to pursue a vigorous approach to exports in order to address a worsening financial situation. He claims that there was a willingness to support the arms industry but a realization within the MoD that the necessary infrastructure to underpin and coordinate any future sales campaign was missing. An efficient organization was mandatory in an increasingly competitive global market.16 Contemporary US practice was examined with a view to improving performance in this field. In his autobiography, Denis Healey claims credit for authorizing an entirely fresh approach by utilizing commercial rather than service expertise.17 The result saw the appointment in July 1965 of the head of Leyland Motors to investigate future strategy. The ensuing report, entitled ‘Export of Defence Equipment: Report of an Enquiry by Sir Donald Stokes’, was published in November 1965, and recommended a number of changes, most of which were later adopted. Although it would be unwise to exaggerate the immediate effect of the changes advocated during the remaining years covered by this study, taken in concert with other initiatives underway at the time, the enquiry nevertheless represented an important milestone. Stokes’ principal recommendation involved the formation of a small, central arms organization in the MoD, headed by a ‘captain of industry’ with outstanding leadership qualities who had been recruited from the business world. The

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 173

04/12/2013 08:14

174

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

specific tasks identified were the collection of market intelligence, the direction of overseas sales staff, the organization of sales campaigns, the negotiation of individual contracts and, importantly, the direction of the activities of the single-service sales departments.18 In practice, this would mean each of the services would be answerable to a central organization but would function as separate entities responsible for implementing large orders, for negotiating smaller ones and for after-sales work. The most important change advocated by Stokes would see the introduction of 10 overseas representatives drawn from industry, the armed forces or the civil service. These appointees would perform the majority of the sales representative functions, although the service attachés would be responsible for drawing attention to intelligence regarding sales value.19 Stokes considered the present annual amount accruing from defence exports, around £130 million, to be ‘no mean achievement’. However, he perceived that the existing and independent single-service departments were not originally conceived as selling agencies. Equipment was being sold as ‘a favour’ when it was no longer required by the home services.20 Implicit in this statement was the view that, if the country was to progress to a new, post-imperial era in which Britain no longer regarded the rest of the world as being slightly inferior or sold arms in the manner of dispensing largesse, there would need to be a fundamental shift in attitude. The government broadly accepted the Stokes Report’s recommendations, as did individual ministries within Whitehall. Nevertheless, the Board of Trade recommended that a degree of reality should be exercised with regard to the overall significance of the findings. It was pointed out that the earnings from arms represented only three per cent of total income from exports.21

The cost-effectiveness of naval visits In January 1965 the Second Permanent Under-Secretary of State (Royal Navy), Michael Cary, launched an enquiry into the usefulness of worldwide naval visits as perceived by the Foreign Office.22 Only by adopting a doggedly persistent approach was Cary able to elicit worthwhile responses which would go some way towards answering the difficult question of whether such visits made in peacetime constituted a decent return in terms of political and commercial gain and influence. Pertinent to this issue was the matter of naval arms exports, the sale of which might be encouraged by the presence of warships as visible

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 174

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 175

demonstrators of the hardware on offer. The Under-Secretary’s initial letter to the Head of the Diplomatic Service stated that the current operational commitment of the Royal Navy was making it increasingly likely that there would be competing bids for the time normally taken up with ship visits. Therefore it was relevant to enquire whether or not ‘old concepts and values still hold good’.23 The enquiry covered all manner of operational and diplomatically focused visits. However, only the conclusions reached regarding ‘visits requested by other Whitehall departments or through personal representation by ambassadors and trade fair organizers’, and what were termed ‘major ventures’, are pertinent to this study. Specifically, doubts concerned the value of the ‘major ventures’ such as the then recent 1964 RN deployment to South America by a ‘Special Service’ Squadron of warships and auxiliaries which is described below. Such ventures were costly in terms of money and time away from other duties. Cary stated: We are bound to assume that the object of these visits is to boost Trade or raise British prestige. But we believe that in terms of hard results it would be very difficult to show that ceremonies with ships present are invariably more successful than the rest or that satisfactory trade agreements cannot be negotiated without the Navy taking a hand … Moreover, the volume of requests we receive is such that visits of this kind can often only be made at the direct expense of our fighting efficiency.24

The Under-Secretary admitted that gatherings of large numbers of ships with the purpose of visiting ports ‘at great distance from the hub of our normal naval activities’ were comparatively rare. Such cruises were aimed at promoting naval sales as well as being in the interests of prestige and cooperation between navies. The underlying aim of the consultation process was to determine a method of reducing the burden on the RN that was suffering as a result of the overcommitment of increasingly limited forces. Cary wanted to know what would be lost if regular port calls were abandoned altogether, perhaps in favour of other forms of flag-showing. Unfortunately, his call for pragmatism rather than sentiment did not elicit any straightforward responses from the overseas embassies where Britain had interests that might have been affected by a naval visit. There was a willingness to accept that the Navy could do less, a desire that such deployments should never be allowed to interfere with fighting efficiency, and a general agreement that it was difficult, if not impossible, to measure the impact of the presence

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 175

04/12/2013 08:14

176

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

of an RN warship in a potential client’s home waters. Interestingly, the South American countries which had been the most recent recipients of ‘major ventures’, and might have shown a greater degree of enthusiasm having been mostly neglected over the past decade or more, responded with the full range of positive and negative opinions. It was the FO’s view that, on the one hand, local authorities, expatriates and particularly the South American navies themselves with whom the RN had mostly enjoyed good, long-standing links, valued a major venture such as the 1964 deployment. On the other hand it could not be claimed that the visit carried much political significance as far as relationships with the respective governments were concerned. In most cases, HM Government had cordial relations with these countries anyway; they would not have deteriorated had the 1964 cruise not happened, and therefore the arrival of the Royal Navy could best be summed up as a ‘mark of friendship’ and an indication of Britain’s continued interest in the region. Thus, Cary’s investigation demonstrated the difficulties both of arriving at a consensus and of agreeing on a method of measuring the importance of a British naval presence in a foreign port in the 1960s. His very direct questioning, rarely answered in kind, suggests that there were, perhaps, no straightforward answers. It is also indicative that no one had sought to challenge the continuing validity of the naval visit in terms of its modern-day application. Sir Bernard Burrows, Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee, summed up the cautious and innately conservative views of those canvassed: ‘Posts abroad still tend to take a rather traditional view of the value of visits by the ships and to think that within limits, flag-showing and attracting publicity by naval visits is still an important and effective adjunct to policy.’25 At most, there seemed to be the impression that the RN’s presence in regions such as South America was still required but needed to be regularly exercised if Britain was to continue to be recognized as an influential member of the international community. This exchange between the MoD and the FO is notable on two counts. First, there is the continued omission of any discussion about the dangers, the wisdom or indeed the morality of stimulating an arms race on that continent, given the on-going animosities that existed between several of its member states. Second, there was a degree of reluctance on the part of senior members of the FO and the Board of Trade to engage seriously with the forensic approach adopted by Michael Cary, which makes one question the true value of the findings. Had a more assiduous approach been adopted by these government departments, a more useful report might have been forthcoming. Was this

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 176

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 177

simply some calculated, reactionary posturing on the part of established civil service department employees towards this MoD ‘newcomer’?

The Royal Navy’s deployments to South America As stated above, much of the evidence for the investigation into the value of naval visits was based on the Royal Navy’s deployment to South America in late 1964. In fact, contrary to assumptions made by the Cary enquiry, the 1964 deployment was not the first undertaking of this kind made by the RN to South America during the course of the decade. Five warships and a Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) tanker had spent three months between December 1961 and February 1962 visiting a number of seaports between Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and Cartagena, Colombia, a significant mission that was not widely publicized. Although it is difficult to be exact about the genesis of what turned out to be three ground-breaking ‘Special Squadron’ RN deployments to South America, undertaken in 1961–2, 1964 and 1969, it seems likely that the impetus for these large-scale and expensive undertakings originated from remarks made by Vice-Admiral Watson in his final report as C-in-C South Atlantic and South America in 1960.26 Watson had stated that certain South American countries would be receptive to greater attention being paid by Britain. Argentina, Brazil and Chile, particularly, were all showing signs of political stability. It was his contention that, although these countries’ navies were dominated by the United States, ‘they nevertheless still have a strong desire to maintain their traditional association with the Royal Navy’. The admiral also pointed out that Argentina and Brazil bordered the alternative sea route from Europe to Australasia. This area might become strategically important if political events in Africa, following countries gaining independence, became a cause for concern. Therefore, it was probably a wise investment to expend diplomatic, commercial and defence efforts in South America. Admiral Watson made the point that the RN was invariably well received in South American ports. He thought that more visits would pay valuable dividends in fostering UK trade and influence. Furthermore, the total withdrawal of British forces from the area would have a profoundly detrimental effect on British influence on both continents and deal a severe blow to the confidence and morale of the considerable numbers of expatriates.27 Watson’s comments, included in what was otherwise a routine ‘haul-down’ report by a naval station flag officer, clearly caught the attention of the Admiralty Board, as a sizeable squadron was despatched to the continent the following year.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 177

04/12/2013 08:14

178

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

The journalist Desmond Wettern describes the 1961–2 deployment somewhat deprecatingly as simply a ‘sales cruise’, made necessary by the fact that exports would help to defray the costs for the RN by increasing production runs for new equipment.28 Indeed the low-key nature of this venture may well have been dictated by the fact that the itinerary included a visit by ships of the squadron to the main Argentine naval base of Puerto Belgrano in December 1961. The Argentine Government had been on the point of placing an order worth in the region of £20 million for four Leander Class frigates and six minesweepers. Therefore the timing of the arrival of the Royal Navy was far from coincidental. In the event this attractive order was lost, owing to the Treasury’s intransigence over the rules regarding credit arrangements. The fact that the export sales aspect of the deployment was not advertised was no doubt also a reflection of the Navy’s acute sensitivity at the time over its involvement with naval sales as well as the potential controversy surrounding any Anglo-Argentine arms deal.29 As far as one professional RN naval officer was concerned, the aim of this deployment was not to sell warships but was primarily related to the Cold War, with the squadron accomplishing a task commensurate with what he considered as its traditional role as the ‘world’s policeman’. An account of the deployment was featured in the April 1962 edition of The Naval Review. The author, writing under the pseudonym ‘Seamaster’, notes that this was the first such undertaking carried out by the RN involving a squadron of this size since before World War Two. To perceive this voyage in terms of the broader battle against the spread of communism was apposite. ‘Seamaster’ refers to ‘a great radical movement … (sweeping) through all of South America’. However, he also offers the view that the squadron’s presence should also function as an entrée to commercial engagement, in this case a signal of renewed British business interest in South America rather than as a deliberate ‘showcase’ for naval matériel. 30 A novel feature of this circumnavigation of South America was the offers made and accepted for the squadron to exercise at sea with the navies of Brazil, Chile and Peru. The Argentines and Uruguayans declined, owing to the fact that arrival of the squadron coincided with Christmas leave. The Chilean Navy, on the other hand, cancelled leave in order to avail itself of this special opportunity. The complex series of joint exercises was deemed successful and ‘Seamaster’ notes that ‘alternately Chilean and British officers took tactical command without any difficulty arising’.31 Moreover, the squadron included in its number two very modern frigates. One, HMS Londonderry, had been in service just over a year; the other, HMS Leopard, less than four.32 Therefore the naval staffs in the countries visited were provided with a rare opportunity to view the latest British warship technology at first hand.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 178

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 179

If there was some doubt about the main purpose of the 1962 visit, there was no mistaking the fact that the 1964 circumnavigation was aimed at re-establishing professional links and attracting sales of naval matériel. The detailed preparation and coordination of the 1964 deployment became the direct responsibility of the recently appointed Director Finance Division 3 (Naval), Leon Solomon, a civil servant whose accession to the post coincided with the formation of the MoD. A letter from the Head of Defence Secretariat to the Minister of Defence stated that the deployment was ‘conceived originally as a result of naval initiative’. The aims were then listed in priority, ‘to show the flag, to strengthen our ties with Latin America, to enable joint exercises to be carried out if appropriate and thus possibly to lead to some sales of naval equipment.’33 The ‘naval equipment’ referred to was new-build, rather than ex-RN vessels considered surplus to requirements. In the mid-1960s the sale of second-hand warships was still considered to be ‘good bread-and-butter business’. Not only was there a capital benefit accruing from the initial sale, the ships themselves (over 100 in total in service with other navies) needed a steady supply of spares and stores during their service lives which was worth several million pounds a year. However, although superficially attractive, second-hand sales reduced the potential market for new ships and also became an increasing burden as they aged and spare parts became scarcer. Therefore, by the mid-1960s the main efforts of the Naval Sales Division were re-directed towards securing orders for new construction.34 The Naval Sales Division was still mindful of the sensitive nature of its involvement in the deployment. Somewhat disingenuously, Solomon reminded his audience that ‘sales promotion’ remained very much a secondary objective of the visit.35 The Vice Chief of Naval Staff (VCNS) also issued a memorandum making a similar point, albeit more forcibly: ‘It is most important this should be done in the right way and in a manner consonant with naval tradition and practice. Ships’ officers and crews should not themselves be involved in any way in a sales campaign.’36 However, in the important matter of the composition of the squadron, it was clear that the priorities lay in assembling the most modern RN vessels available that might serve to attract potential customers. In this respect the demands of planned national and international exercises were deemed to be of secondary importance and, when the squadron sailed in September for the three-month deployment to Brazil, Chile, Columbia, Ecuador, Peru and Uruguay, it included in its number the very latest design of guided missile destroyer, submarine and frigate. It was also intended to demonstrate new naval equipment carried

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 179

04/12/2013 08:14

180

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

by the ships in the form of sonar, gas propulsion and a surface-to-air missile. Argentina was perceived to be a particular target for sales at the time. However, its Foreign Ministry withdrew the offer to accommodate the squadron at fairly short notice on the pretext of security fears for British personnel caused by the country’s long-standing dispute over sovereignty of the Falkland Islands. This decision elicited a particularly vitriolic reaction from the British Naval Attaché in Buenos Aires.37 A sales brochure advertising British equipment was also produced for the first time. This was intended to constitute a ready source of technical information as well as deal with issues of confidentiality for the attention of ambassadors, naval attachés and the navy personnel aboard the British warships. Significantly, a section was devoted to what were described as ‘private venture’ designs, namely designs for warships not intended for the RN fleet itself but specifically aimed at the export market. Ever conscious of the need to maintain a professional detachment, instructions were included on ‘the correct attitude for Attachés and other Royal Navy representatives to adopt towards these designs’.38 The delicate handling required in order to placate the fears of the service over its involvement in a commercial venture was also reflected in a later agreement that representatives of private firms would not be present in South America at the time of the visit, nor would they be permitted to indulge in any ‘“carpetbagging”’ in advance of the Squadron’s arrival. Instead, they were instructed to wait and follow up the Naval Attaché’s report of any signal of interest.39 Both the Foreign Office and the Treasury expressed misgivings regarding this sales initiative. The FO deemed it necessary to educate its newly formed government partner, the MoD, in some basic principles concerning the export of naval matériel. There were warnings that there must be assurances that the potential customer should be able to pay and that, even if this was guaranteed, extravagant expenditure on ‘prestige equipment’ should be discouraged. The final arbiter was to be the Export Credit Guarantee Department (ECGD), and there had been no relaxation of existing rules regarding payment and credit regulations. The MoD was reminded that encouragement of a Latin American arms race would be inconsistent with HM Government’s support for the principles of the US ‘Alliance for Progress’ initiative. Although this latter point suggested a shift away from the relaxed laissez-faire stance towards arms exports described earlier, it was conceded that it was difficult to arrive at a precise definition of the term ‘extravagant expenditure’.40 The Treasury chose to adopt an entirely negative attitude to the whole venture. The tone of one of Solomon’s internal memoranda conveys a sense of

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 180

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 181

frustration, not only with the problem of trying to change entrenched attitudes but also with the animosity that existed between the FO and the Treasury: When the South American Sales Campaign was recently discussed by the Strategic Exports (Official) Committee, the initial Treasury attitude was very discouraging. It was based on a mixture of hard-headedness (‘they couldn’t pay anyhow’) and idealism (‘all available money should be devoted to improving the lot of the people’). The initial Foreign Office attitude was a mixture of dislike for the Treasury view and a desire to have the Ambassadors, not the Naval Attachés, deciding what items might be needed by the South American Navies.41

In the event, the deployment was a success from an RN perspective. The Chief of Naval Staff (CNS) highlighted the positive reaction to the demonstrations of naval equipment. These included joint firings with the Chilean Navy of the surface-to-air missile SEACAT; the Chileans had reserved two rounds especially for the occasion. As had occurred in 1962, there was a sharing of tactical command during exercises which included the writing of operational orders. The CNS, who was present, referred to a remark made to him by one senior Chilean officer present that ‘one day’s exercise with us (the RN) was worth three years of UNITAS’.42 Despite the overall success of the 1962 and 1964 deployments to South America, it was to be four years before the region was visited again by a squadron of Royal Navy warships. It was hoped that the presence of the C-in-C South Africa and South America Squadron in Argentine and Chilean waters aboard his station frigate HMS Jaguar in February 1966 would serve as a useful interim reminder of the continued Royal Navy commitment to these Southern Cone countries. The account of the visit to Valparaiso, for example, concluded that, while the Admiral’s presence was ‘invaluable in demonstrating that we take an active interest in paying more than lip service to the traditional ties between the Royal Navy and the Chilean Navy’, it remained true that a visit by a single ship, even when flying a Vice-Admiral’s flag, was no substitute for the squadron visits which had been made in the past.43 The 1969 Western Squadron Deployment to South America that visited Panama, Callao, Valparaiso, Buenos Aires and Rio de Janeiro had followed that of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II to Brazil and Chile the previous year. The Head of State’s involvement had been hailed as a triumph by the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO), which claimed to have ‘waged a somewhat lone fight in Whitehall in insisting on the importance of the Latin American continent to Britain and British interests’. The FCO was quick to point out

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 181

04/12/2013 08:14

182

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

that the state visit proved to be a catalyst for improved trade relations and in particular had succeeded in bringing to a conclusion several discussions on commercial deals and contracts. These included merchant ship and aircraft purchases, contracts for improving port facilities, for providing electronic equipment and, most importantly, for a nuclear plant construction.44 In preparing the itinerary for the state visit to Brazil and Chile, there had been quite intense debate about whether or not to include Argentina. The country was still a major trading partner and such an omission might have been perceived as a ‘snub’, particularly at a time when negotiations over the future of the Falkland Islands were considered to be proceeding satisfactorily. Moreover, to visit Chile and not Argentina could imply favouritism when Her Majesty was being asked to act as arbitrator in the long-running dispute over conflicting claims to the Beagle Channel. In the outcome it was decided that it was an inappropriate time to make such a visit, not least with regard to the Queen’s security. The Duke of Edinburgh’s recent experiences in Buenos Aires in 1966 had demonstrated the risks involved.45 Vice-Admiral Lewis’s Western Squadron detachment comprised five of the latest Royal Navy warships, all but one of which had first commissioned in the course of the current decade. The two Leander Class frigates and the Oberon Class submarine that accompanied this group were specifically chosen, as both the Brazilian and Chilean Navies were on the brink of purchasing submarines of this type and the Chileans the Leander Class as well.46 This policy of targeting particular markets contrasts sharply with the employment of the ageing HMS Caradoc in 1929 to represent the RN, as recounted in the Introduction. This lightly built cruiser, constructed for service in the North Sea over a decade earlier, was hardly suitable for the stormy waters and vast reaches of the South-West Pacific, the South Atlantic or the Antarctic Ocean. Moreover, the major South American navies traditionally prided themselves on their technologically advanced fleets and Caradoc had not even benefited from a ‘mid-life’ refit that might have brought her weapons systems and other equipment up to date. The cruiser was used simply because it was readily available; the cost of employing a more modern warship ‘borrowed’ from the Atlantic Fleet or Mediterranean Station was considered at the time to be prohibitive. There is other evidence of a more focused and progressive approach by the organizers of the 1969 deployment. The idea of utilizing the main deck of one of the fleet auxiliaries that accompanied the squadron as an exhibition and conference space for use by a civilian-manned Defence Sales team proved to

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 182

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 183

be both novel and popular. John Peters, the Head of Naval Defence Sales at the time, in acknowledging that these ‘floating’ exhibitions could play a significant contributory part in the decision-making process, stresses ‘the special pulling power which any ship visit exerts’. This observation, although it had been made many times before, was now being consciously exploited by the presence aboard of the civilian sales experts.47 Instead of there being a gap in time created between the warship visit and the arrival of the sales team, as had been the case in the 1964 Special Squadron deployment, the process could in effect resemble a trade fair ashore. Equipment could be inspected and expert professional advice was immediately to hand both from Navy personnel and from the civilian salesmen. The experiment was deemed highly successful by the Naval Sales Division and in the course of the next four years six further floating exhibitions were mounted which visited 20 countries. Peters also claims that his representatives capitalized on the highly respected expertise of the RN personnel as a key adjunct to the efforts of his non-uniformed team. This tactic echoed the approach adopted by Henry Kuss, the Head of the United States ‘International Logistics Negotiations’ whose methods were later copied by the British. Kuss’s team successfully increased US arms sales revenue from US$300 million to US$1.3 billion in the two years between 1961 and 1963. He considered interaction between military professionals as the vital component in successful arms sales negotiations, claiming, ‘Military sales are not and never have been very much like commercial sales overseas. Military sales are deeply imbedded in military-political thinking … One of my most important jobs is to help to bring the military men of the two countries together. That begins the process of resource utilization.’48 Lastly, there were signs of a crucial shift in attitude by the RN officers involved with regard to the true purpose and worth of such peacetime undertakings. Despite residual misgivings, Vice-Admiral Lewis, whose post as Flag Officer, Flotillas (and later as Second Sea Lord) placed him in a highly influential position within the upper echelons of the service, was reported to be ‘completely converted … to the benefits of using the Royal Navy’s influence to make good commercial impressions’.49

A lack of coordination It would be very wrong to assume that the transformation to a new set of practices during the 1960s that contributed to the success of these deployments was either

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 183

04/12/2013 08:14

184

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

smooth or linear. When the forthcoming Special Squadron deployment to South America was discussed at a meeting of the Strategic Exports (Official) Committee Meeting on the 13 May 1964, there were representatives present from all the interested parties involved, namely the MoD, the Treasury, the FCO, the Board of Trade, the Naval Sales Division and each of the Armed Forces departments. Many of the issues raised at this meeting were to become the very matters of dispute over the sale of the aircraft carrier HMS Centaur. The FCO thought that the sales campaign associated with the 1964 cruise should be handled discreetly, as it was anxious to avoid a situation in which public interest was stimulated to the extent of putting pressure on governments to buy expensive equipment which they did not need. There was the danger of a quarrel with the US if Britain tried to sell equipment which was clearly not a legitimate defence need but was being purchased in order to bolster the prestige of a particular service. The Treasury representative warned that certain Latin American countries, viz. Argentina, Chile, Ecuador and Brazil, were not deemed creditworthy at the time. Therefore it would be unfortunate if the prospect of matériel exports to these countries led to requests for extended credit terms as these would almost certainly be refused. The FCO disagreed at this point, stating that it would be unwise to set a financial limit or to rule out all sales to countries not regarded as creditworthy. Finally, the Naval Sales Division reminded the meeting that Britain was in an advantageous position owing to the South American countries being desirous to purchase from Britain rather than from France or the United States. Moreover, British shipbuilders were able to offer a variety of cheap designs which had been prepared especially for the export market and which might be suitable for these navies. The fact that these issues were aired well in advance of the hiatus caused by the proposed sale of HMS Centaur 18 months later might appear at first sight to be inexplicable. Why were these disagreements not remembered or, better still, resolved? However, it has to be conceded that the findings of the Stokes Committee on defence sales had yet to be promulgated. The underlying premise of Stokes’s commercially inspired approach was founded on agreed policies and coordinated action, the very practices missing when the Centaur controversy erupted. One can only conclude that the fear of upsetting allies over an irresponsible arms sales policy, set against the remnants of an independent, imperial-style foreign policy, was a matter which could only be resolved over time in a country on the cusp of change.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 184

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 185

Naval sales The interest shown in reviving naval links with South American countries in the 1960s did produce a highly successful return in terms of revenue. No fewer than nine new destroyers and frigates, four submarines and six corvettes/patrol craft were ordered to be built for Argentina, Brazil, Chile and Venezuela between 1966 and 1972. Strictly speaking, further purchases made outside the period covered by this study ought to be included, as the initial interest was engendered in the second half of the 1960s. Thus Brazil ordered a third submarine in 1973 and Argentina a second destroyer built at Rio Santiago under licence with British technical assistance.50 The concentration on winning contracts to build new warships was matched by a sharp decline in second-hand sales, although two ex-Daring Class destroyers were acquired by Peru in 1969 with additional refit work undertaken in the UK between 1970 and 1973. Private shipbuilding firms also prospered at this time from contracts secured to modernize other South American warships. Cammell Laird, Birkenhead, and Swan Hunter on the Tyne, secured these contracts owing in part to the lack of the necessary infrastructure and expertise to undertake such specialist tasks in the South American shipyards.51 By far the most lucrative contract of this period, worth in excess of £100 million, was awarded to Vosper Thornycroft, Southampton. At the time it constituted the largest ever to have been signed with a British shipbuilder. It covered the construction of four Type 10 Niteroi Class frigates to be built in the UK, together with the supply of equipment and technical assistance for the building of a further two ships of the same type in Brazil. In 1967 the Brazilian Naval Staff had drawn up a programme of re-equipment which aimed to replace an ageing collection of vessels with new units better adapted to the requirements of the Brazilian maritime strategy, at the heart of which was the defence of merchant shipping against submarine and surface attack on the country’s long littoral. Initial negotiations with the US Navy Department faltered after the Brazilians had made substantial down payments, only to discover retrospectively that the Bronstein Class frigates on offer did not match their requirements. Additionally, there were problems relating to US Congress restrictions over the supply of equipment under the Mutual Aid scheme. By September 1969, the Brazilian choice had narrowed to the German Köln Class and two contemporary British designs, the Type 21 and Type 42

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 185

04/12/2013 08:14

186

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Class frigates. The German option was discarded when doubts arose over the capabilities of the Köln Class to operate effectively in the heavy seas of the South Atlantic Ocean. It came as a surprise however, when the Brazilian Minister of the Navy announced that the preferred design for the new frigate would be the privately developed and untested Vosper Thornycroft Type 10.52 The British Ambassador’s lengthy account for the Foreign Secretary of the events leading to the signing of the contract with Vosper Thornycroft coupled with the successful negotiations with Vickers for the construction of three Oberon Class submarines includes the significance of the royal visit to Rio in 1968, followed by the arrival of the Western Squadron in Brazilian waters the following year. The Royal Yacht Britannia had been accompanied by the Leander Class frigates HMS Naiad and Danae. Sea Days had been organized for Brazilian naval officers and other influential parties for these visitors to witness the RN frigates in action, at the same time enjoying what were described as ‘the creature comforts’ of the Royal Yacht. The arrival of Vice-Admiral Lewis’s squadron, which included an Oberon Class submarine in its number, ‘helped rub home the lesson of British naval efficiency’.53 The Brazilian contracts constituted a triumph for British diplomacy and the newly formed Defence Sales Organisation. They were also a vindication of the Royal Navy’s commitment to the region during the course of the decade that included the all-important shift in attitude to embrace the sales dimension of such ‘goodwill’ visits. Well over a decade earlier, Brazil had signalled its intention to look elsewhere than the United States for the construction of naval vessels. On that occasion, following protracted negotiations, Britain only managed to sell one second-hand aircraft carrier. Discussions regarding other parts of the naval reconstruction programme faltered owing to problems over credit arrangements. By contrast, the 1969 signature securing the Brazilian submarine contract with Vickers was imaginatively linked to attractive financing arrangements for the surface warships. This meant that, although the Vosper-built frigates and associated components were supplied by Britain, local cost credits were provided for the Brazilian part of the construction.54 The Brazilian contract was won in the face of competition from the US and also from Germany and France. While this export success and others across South America have been highlighted, it would be a distortion of the truth to suggest that the influence of the United States particularly was terminally eclipsed by this British incursion. Following a comparative lull in supply during the latter part of the 1960s, a sizeable number of second-hand US destroyers and submarines were transferred to South American navies, particularly during

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 186

04/12/2013 08:14



The Revitalization of British Naval Relations with South America, 1961–9 187

the first half of the next decade. Ominously, in the longer term other European nations, notably Germany, started to make an impact on the South American new-construction market during the 1970s, which meant that the naval sales successes achieved by the British were never repeated.

Conclusion In pure commercial terms, the period 1961–9 undoubtedly culminated in a great success for naval export marketing. This was matched by the cooperation of a Royal Navy prepared to embrace change and driven by a government’s determination to take advantage of the receptiveness of some South American countries to strengthened economic ties with Europe. Nevertheless, it would be inaccurate to claim that this period was underpinned by a linear and untroubled transformation to a new set of practices. There remained a pronounced lack of overall strategic planning and cooperation between the British Government ministries involved, which still manifested itself in a conflict of views being expressed exactly at the point at which key decision-making was required. This state of affairs inevitably resulted in irresolution and prevarication. Arguments about credit terms and financial security, the moral dilemma of being associated with a South American arms race, the risk of upsetting the United States and the desire to contribute towards Britain’s balance of payments deficit, variously contributed towards creating what could have turned into a series of diplomatic embarrassments. To its credit, the Royal Navy emerged from this period with reason to be proud of its achievements. It had reacted positively from the shock of losing ‘the carrier battle’ and the dawning reality of a future role as a medium-sized naval power primarily confined to operations in the North-Eastern Atlantic. Its three deployments to South America to advertise the very best of British naval arms manufacture had seen the adoption of bold, innovative marketing practices which would not have been countenanced even 10 years previously by this innately conservative service.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 187

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 188

04/12/2013 08:14

8

The End of an Era

Forty years almost to the day after the arrival of HMS Caradoc in Arica, described in the Introduction, the guided missile destroyer HMS Hampshire led a formation of four warships and two auxiliaries into Valparaiso Harbour on 6 March 1969. This was part of a week-long official visit to Chile by the Royal Navy’s Western Fleet, which had been despatched to South America in support of British trade. It was hoped that this deployment would help to secure future contracts for naval vessels which had been under negotiation for some time. There were two-and-a-half days of exercises at sea with ships of the Chilean Navy which included demonstrations by the British of the latest anti-submarine and ‘hunter-killer’ submarine tactics. The only disappointment had been the cancellation of live firings by Hampshire of the brand-new, first-generation Sea Slug anti-aircraft guided missile owing to low cloud cover which had prevented the use of the pilotless target drone.1 Ashore, residents both in Valparaiso and in the capital invited officers and ratings to stay in their homes. The Ambassador organized a dance to thank their hosts, which in turn provided an opportunity for him to undertake further discussions with senior naval officers from both countries in more informal surroundings. There was extensive Chilean media coverage, and the welfare work undertaken by ships’ volunteers in a local hospital and at a care home ‘for retired ladies of British descent’ was well received. The crowded harbour phase of the programme included a visit from Santiago by the Commander-in-Chief of the Chilean Navy, Admiral Fernando Porta, who lunched aboard HMS Hampshire with the commander of the Western Fleet, Vice-Admiral Lewis. At his own request, the Chilean C-in-C toured HMS Arethusa, a Leander Class frigate of the type the Chilean Navy was close to purchasing. An SRN–6 hovercraft, which had been transported aboard the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 189

04/12/2013 08:14

190

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

fleet tanker RFA Olwen, gave a demonstration of its capabilities in Valparaiso harbour. In his assessment of the importance and the effect of the visit, the British Ambassador, F. C. Mason, concluded that it had been ‘an undoubted success from every point of view’. However, he was aware that there was a danger in overstating the lasting value of such occasions in the face of the continuing influence and efforts of the United States and the renewed interest being shown in South America by European competitors. In an interesting echo of the pluralistic approach to naval influence forwarded by Admiral Fisher some 43 years earlier, Mason advised: The esteem with which the Royal Navy is held is firmly established but if our influence is to continue more serious consideration must be given to the possibility of offering more training courses in the United Kingdom, exchanges of officers and more frequent naval visits of this nature. I hope, therefore, that a squadron (visit) will be possible in the future of not longer than two years.2

Continuity and change over five decades Three questions present themselves at the end of this period which charts the Royal Navy’s association with and presence in South American waters. What had remained the same, and what had changed in the 40-year gap between the two visits by RN ships referred to above? How far had the United States usurped Britain’s pre-World War One position as the major naval influence across continental South America? Third, from a wider perspective, what did the deployment of the Western Fleet ships in 1969 signify in terms of Britain’s foreign policy at an early stage of what was supposed to be a ‘drawing-down’ of its overseas military commitments following the decision by the British Government of the time to spend less on defence and to withdraw its forces from east of Suez? In practical terms the 1969 RN visits to Brazil on the east coast of South America and to Chile and Peru on the west coast followed a familiar pattern of formal and informal contacts. The presence of the Royal Yacht Britannia with Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh on board for the west coast phase of the deployment was a key adjunct to Britain’s commercial ‘offensive’. This carried echoes of the visit by the Prince of Wales to South America aboard HMS Repulse in 1925, when the Royal Family had been used to signal British interest and, hopefully, to influence commercial and political events ashore.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 190

04/12/2013 08:14



The End of an Era

191

It would seem that little had changed, too, with regard to the political tensions affecting the continent. A letter by the Chilean Ambassador to the Latin American Department of the FO in November 1968, for example, provides a ‘snap-shot’ of the existing areas for concern. The Chilean Government was exercised over the recent acquisition by Argentina of 40 Mirage jet fighters. There had been rumours, which turned out to be without foundation, that the Argentines had sold an aircraft carrier to Peru. The formation of an ‘axis’ between Argentina and Peru aimed at unsettling Chile was also feared. Additionally, there were reported to be on-going border disputes between Brazil and Argentina over ownership of stretches of the Parana River, territorial claims and counter-claims involving Guyana, Venezuela and Brazil, and an argument between Colombia and Venezuela about adjacent off-shore waters.3 Although the Western Fleet’s deployment did not match the virtually continuous presence of the RN in the interwar years, in effect nothing had altered with respect to intent since the ships of the A&WI Squadron had circumnavigated the continent. The hope remained that traditional ties would be honoured and that the major South American navies would avail themselves of the expertise of a renowned shipbuilding industry and purchase Britishdesigned warships when replacement vessels were required by their navies. In 1968 the prospects seemed good, as they had done in the 1920s and early 1930s when each of Argentina, Brazil and Chile was looking to modernize its fleet. This optimism was expressed during a meeting in July 1968 between Lord Chalfont, the Minister of State at the FCO, and the Managing Director of shipbuilders Cammell Laird, Mr Norman Cave. It was Cave’s contention that the UK’s trade prospects in South America were ‘exciting’ owing to significant changes which had taken place over the previous three years regarding both the United States’ attitude towards the continent and the willingness of the South Americans to increase their commercial links with Europe and with Britain in particular. Most were committed to naval modernization programmes. There had been successes already. Mr. Cave drew attention to his firm’s winning of a contract to refit four of Venezuela’s Italian-built destroyers. He pointed out that the commercial partnership that had been forged between Cammell Laird and the Venezuelan Navy over the contract could be used as a ‘spring-board’ to further valuable business opportunities if the government was prepared to match these commercial efforts with political pressure and financial support.4 He went on to highlight the potential of winning naval work in Peru to renovate their two cruisers, and similar modernization projects in Colombia, Chile and Argentina. Competition was fierce from such countries as Italy and

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 191

04/12/2013 08:14

192

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

Sweden, where more generous government support was provided for private commercial enterprises of that kind. Lord Chalfont, while vocally backing such ventures, could not promise the kind of financial assistance which Mr Cave sought. The country’s balance of payments position precluded the giving of such assurances. He further advised caution where arms sales or political support might upset regional power balances, serve to exacerbate territorial disputes, or even, in the case of Argentina, directly affect Britain’s possessions in the South Atlantic. Although the Minister of State applauded the success of Cammell Laird in gaining the Venezuelan contract, Venezuela’s on-going claim to a large section of Guyana made for a complex set of circumstances in view of Britain’s ‘moral commitments and obligations’ to this former colony.5 Again, the situation was not dissimilar to the 1920s when British private shipbuilding concerns, facing a downturn in the domestic market, were seeking contracts overseas and meeting unequal competition from foreign companies and a measure of intransigence on the part of HM Government. The unwillingness of the FCO to ‘fan the flames’ of regional naval rivalry or threaten to disturb delicate border disputes was also a familiar point of argument. However, by the end of the 1960s, after years when there had seemed to be disharmony between the armed forces and the Foreign Office as to the precise role of the former with respect to foreign relations in peacetime, clarity on the part of Ministry of Defence seemed at last to be evident in a paper issued in January 1969 entitled ‘Arms Sales and Military Assistance’. The link between business interests, military assistance and influence overseas is stated unequivocally as a key peacetime objective: Outside the military field the reasons for the provision of military technical assistance are primarily political and economic – for instance as far as it is possible, to exert influence, and to achieve stability in a country where there are considerable British investments.6

The importance of exerting influence through offers of training was recognized but also perceived as a problem. At the time British forces were being reduced – for example, the numbers of midshipman ‘billets’ in HM ships on offer to foreign navies had recently been reduced, as the RN had encountered problems in accommodating even its own men. Nevertheless, the direct connection between providing British equipment plus technical assistance and training and enhancing British exports was argued to be of paramount importance at a time when British forces were being withdrawn from overseas. Significantly, although the MoD paper mentions the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 192

04/12/2013 08:14



The End of an Era

193

need to avoid upsetting the ‘military balance’ through selling arms, this factor does not receive the prominence it was accorded in equivalent papers written during the 1950s.7 Whilst suitable parallels may be drawn between the policies adopted in the 1920s and again in the 1960s in attracting custom, owing to the passage of time there were also, of course, notable differences. The fact that the A&WI Station no longer existed meant that the warship or warships required for the task had to be drawn from other commands. The creation of a Royal Navy ‘Western Fleet’ itself was new. Less than two years previously the last of a long and celebrated line of Commanders-in-Chief Mediterranean Fleet had hauled down his flag in Malta, and the few RN warships remaining there had become officially ‘an outpost’ of the new Western Fleet. In future, reinforcements would be detached to the Mediterranean only as required.8 The optimistic predictions of Cammell Laird’s Managing Director regarding the prospects for the shipbuilding industry were correct. But unfortunately this ‘golden age’ of UK warship construction for the South American market was to be short-lived. Labour relations, demarcation disputes, overcapacity, a lack of visionary management, the inability to modernize, and Conservative Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s denunciation of shipbuilding as a ‘sunset’ industry have variously been blamed for its sad demise. Ironically, Britain failed to remain competitive in this market just at the point when there was a rapid expansion of third-world navies during the 1970s and 1980s. This expansion had been driven by a number of countries, some fairly recently freed from colonial rule, exercising their rights to defend and to patrol valuable off-shore waters. Thus the succeeding generation of new-build warships and submarines was built for South American navies principally by German and Italian companies.9

The influence of the United States It has been shown that the influence of the United States over the administration, ethos and training of the South American navies, and in later years the composition and equipment of major parts of their fleets, had been considerable. Even before World War One, a nascent shipbuilding industry had shown its capability to win an order for major warships in the face of competition from some experienced and mature European shipbuilding firms. After the war it rapidly exerted its influence over two of the major regional navies, usurping positions previously held by France and Britain. Interestingly, in the interwar

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 193

04/12/2013 08:14

194

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

period, the USA then confined its involvement to naval missions only, although towards the end of the 1930s President Roosevelt was moving towards proposals for a more structured form of defence alliance involving standardized naval equipment. During the two decades after 1945, successive Washington administrations made every effort to promote a hemispheric defence policy, an immense undertaking that proved impossible to execute fully for three principal reasons. First, particularly in the early stages, it was hampered by reluctance on the part of Congress to authorize the necessary legislation required for the passing of the Mutual Defense Assistance Act. This led to several South American navies, anxious and impatient to modernize their fleets, turning to European sources for new-construction or second-hand replacements, thus negating any prospects for the kind of standardization of equipment envisaged by US planners. Second, the sheer cost of the enterprise mounted as North American yards were tasked with the refit programmes for ageing second-hand US warships. The urgency felt in the early stages of the Cold War that the West had to re-arm in order to repel a communist invasion was replaced with the more frightening yet less immediate threat of a nuclear stand-off. Subsequent haggling over rising modernization costs and accusations of preferential treatment being handed out to more favoured states slowed the pace at which ship transfers were undertaken, thus adding to the discontent and resentment felt in several South American countries about US domination in defence matters. Third, and crucially, efforts to achieve standardization ran contrary to the historic regional divisions that have been a constant theme in this book. The concept of a threat from a single common enemy in communism was of secondary importance in some republics where government popularity could be increased by encouraging nationalistic fervour at the right time. For others, the idea of a communist takeover was attractive. Salvation from poverty might be attained through adherence to the principles of that philosophy. However, it would be wrong to assume that towards the end of the 1960s US influence on South American navies was fading. In terms of ethos and training, it was the very much the dominant force. None of the major European navies, including Britain, had maintained naval missions on that continent to threaten this US hegemony since the end of World War Two. US naval forces exercised on an annual basis with South American navies under the UNITAS agreement. The hand-over of second-hand USN warships, although fewer in number, continued throughout the 1970s and 1980s, although the crucial

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 194

04/12/2013 08:14



The End of an Era

195

standardization of equipment was never achieved. This in turn worked against improvements in inter-ship communications, particularly in the complicated art of ASW in which the North Americans wanted their southern hemisphere neighbours to specialize.10

The end of a short-lived revival in naval visiting The Western Fleet’s 1969 deployment was to be the last of its kind. President Pinochet’s seizure of power in Chile in 1973 made it politically unacceptable to allow ‘high-profile’ squadrons of RN warships to undertake visits to Valparaiso. The future of the naval order for two frigates and two submarines which duly followed the Western Fleet’s visit was publicly debated in the UK in the light of the actions of the Pinochet dictatorship. It presented a particular moral dilemma for trades unions and for the in-coming Labour Government in 1974, but eventually was allowed to proceed. In Mark Phythian’s words the intention was ‘not to injure Britain’s standing as a commercial supplier’. The Labour Party was prepared ‘to accept the principle of inviolability of existing contracts over manifesto and public commitments made in opposition’.11 Under the Conservative Government that took control in 1979, relationships had improved to the extent that a few ageing RN warships and auxiliaries were sold to Chile. RFA Tidepool was on its way to Chile with a British ‘passage crew’ aboard at the outbreak of the Falklands War in 1982, when it was re-directed to the South Atlantic, apparently ‘to the delight of its crew’.12 Later in the decade four County Class destroyers were sold to Chile in yet another major deal involving these historic naval partners. However, the more lucrative contracts for brand-new destroyers, frigates and submarines were not forthcoming. During the 1970s, relations also deteriorated between Britain and Argentina over sovereignty of the Falkland Islands. The political tensions manifested themselves in a number of incidents at sea in which the Argentine Navy harassed British shipping in the waters surrounding the islands. These tested the ability of the Royal Navy to react in a way which did not inflame an already fragile diplomatic situation. Two examples highlight the problems facing HM Government. The so-called ‘Shackleton Incident’ in 1976, in which the British research ship was fired on by an Argentine destroyer some 80 miles outside Port Stanley, presented the dilemma as how best to make an appropriate naval ‘response’ some eight thousand miles from home. Apart from the lightly armed ice patrol ship HMS Endurance, the nearest RN warship was a frigate patrolling

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 195

04/12/2013 08:14

196

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

off Belize. In the event, the Prime Minister James Callaghan demanded that the frigate, HMS Eskimo, should be sent south from Belize. According to Lawrence Freedman, the MoD ‘was not sure what this frigate was supposed to achieve: it could neither deter nor redress any Argentine action’.13 By the end of the following year the situation had deteriorated further and a more powerful group of warships was prepared for despatch in support of the quite delicate negotiations that were underway at the time. However, unlike traditional gunboat-diplomacy ‘posturing’ by a superior naval power, utmost secrecy regarding the operation was demanded. Only the commanding officers of the vessels were privy to their ships’ destination and the purpose of the operation. Two frigates and two RFAs were deployed from UK ports in late November 1977 and were joined by an SSN, HMS Dreadnought, from Gibraltar. It was agreed that, while the submarine would operate close to the islands, the frigates would remain outside the normal Argentine search area. The unusual, covert nature of the deployment, which would require the vessels to ‘reveal’ themselves only if the situation deteriorated rapidly, had a rational explanation. Once the presence of the ships was known, it would be assumed that they were undertaking a semi-permanent deterrent function. The RN would be unable to sustain such a commitment over an extended period of time. The November deployment was only made possible anyway because there was a convenient gap in the routine of planned operations at the time.14 Nevertheless, despite the growing Anglo-Argentine tension, as far as communications between the two countries regarding defence sales were concerned it was ‘business as usual’. Work on the second Type 42 destroyer being built with assistance from Vickers technical advisers was allowed to continue at Rio Santiago during the latter part of the decade, so much so that the vessel was able to take an operational part in the Argentine invasion of the islands in April 1982. Negotiations had also commenced in 1973 over the possible construction in Argentina of six Type 21 frigates. Bizarrely, in the light of future events, approval was granted in 1975 for the release of secret information relating to the brand-new Sea Wolf close-in air defence missile which would be fitted aboard these frigates. Although later cancelled, negotiations had advanced to the stage where a ‘Memorandum of Understanding’ was signed by both countries in 1976 for a contract estimated to be worth £180 million.15 In view of the harassment of shipping off the Falkland Islands it was felt necessary to provide reassurance to the islanders, who might otherwise consider themselves under siege. To this end the visit of HMS Ashanti to Port Stanley in 1979 constituted a much-needed morale-boosting event for the local

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 196

04/12/2013 08:14



The End of an Era

197

population. Although it was not publicized, the frigate’s deployment was made with the knowledge and cooperation of the Argentine Government who were informed through diplomatic channels.16 It can be seen from the above that, alone among the major South American navies, it remained vital to foster links with Brazil. By the mid-1970s, AngloBrazilian commercial deals totalling some £300 million were in prospect over the medium term. Symbolic of the importance attached to this alliance, in May 1975 a truly impressive array of RN warships rendezvoused off the coast of Brazil. The force was an amalgamation of a task group (TG 317.2) consisting of a helicopter cruiser, four frigates, a nuclear fleet submarine and three auxiliaries which was returning to the UK from a nine-month voyage to the Far East, and the aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal with its escorts which had sailed from exercises in the American Atlantic weapon range. Joint manoeuvres with the Brazilian Navy, codenamed Brazex 75, were conducted following visits by nine of the British warships and six auxiliaries to Rio de Janeiro and also to Salvador and Santos.17

Conclusion The disproportionally large concentration of British warships off the coast of Brazil for Brazex 75 was of course exceeded in number seven years later during Operation Corporate, which took place hundreds of miles to the south. In hindsight both events, although entirely different in purpose, carried valedictory messages about the decline of British sea power. For example, it is argued that in the event of another invasion of the Falkland Islands, the Royal Navy would lack the resources to repeat the actions of 1982. By the same token, the termination of the Simonstown Agreement in 1975, under which Britain retained access to South African ports both in time of peace and war, left a worrying vacuum in the South Atlantic as the problems of providing a naval presence adjacent to the Falkland Islands in the latter half of the 1970s so aptly demonstrated. The RN, with its shrinking fleet increasingly committed to the North Eastern Atlantic, was unable to sustain a viable presence in the area in time of crisis especially without base facilities at Simonstown. Thus support and encouragement for a revitalized and modern Brazilian Navy that could be used to police this area represented a responsible course of action for a diminishing world naval power.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 197

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 198

04/12/2013 08:14

9

Epitaph and Legacy

The story of the Royal Navy in South America during the middle years of the twentieth century mirrors Britain’s decline as an imperial power and as the leading economic and military player on the world stage. It has been shown that, for a variety of reasons, the reputation of the Navy, largely acting in a peacetime role in this region, had served as a useful supporter of export initiatives, most obviously naval exports. Although impossible to judge in quantitative terms, RN warships by their very presence also provided valuable support and reassurance for an expatriate community far from home. By the end of the period under study, for a variety of reasons it was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain this association. So what does this investigation tell us about the Navy’s ability to adapt to the changing needs of this role during these years in situations often far removed from its age-old image as a war-fighting machine? And how did the experience of the Royal Navy’s highly successful though short-lived involvement in South American waters in the 1960s serve to shape future ‘out of area deployments’.

Lessons to be learned Arguably the most important lesson to be drawn from this analysis of a navy’s influence on peacetime foreign affairs is also the most obvious one. A partnership works only when attention is paid to the client by the provider nation in the form of regular naval visits. This has been illustrated across the time-span under consideration. The discontinuation of the RN South American presence after World War One was specifically deemed to threaten the prospects of a recovery in British trade in the region and brought about its reinstatement.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 199

04/12/2013 08:14

200

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

The estrangement of the 1950s caused by the Antarctic dispute heralded dire warnings that Britain’s favoured position was about to be irreversibly usurped by the US. Significantly, just four diplomatic visits were made by RN ships to Chile, its most faithful and enduring naval partner, during the entire decade. By contrast the three impressive Special Squadron deployments coupled with the royal visits in the 1960s helped stimulate British trade including lucrative export orders involving all the major naval powers. This book has highlighted what seems to have been a remarkable lack of harmony, coordination and understanding between key offices of state in the United Kingdom with respect to this use of the Royal Navy in peacetime. An agreed policy between the Foreign Office, the Admiralty, the Treasury and the Board of Trade regarding the conduct of naval diplomatic relations and commercial transactions with South America did not exist, probably because no one had thought it was necessary. When the opportunity to coordinate thinking did occur, any agreements about future conduct were subsequently almost entirely disregarded. Understandably, as it was concerned with diplomatic issues, the course of much of the association between the navies of Britain and the South American republics remained principally within the jurisdiction and guidance of the Foreign Office. It is probably a measure of the comparative unimportance of the continent in comparison with other pressing global concerns that the FO was shown to be at its most decisive and authoritative only in the late 1930s, when persistent attempts to circumvent the terms of the naval treaty caused the full weight of Britain’s imperial authority to be used to deny the Chileans the warships they wanted. At other times, such as the 1950s, FO policies seemed to be out of touch with a changing world or, as in the 1960s, curiously indifferent to efforts made by the MoD to quantify the effectiveness of naval diplomacy. The Treasury and the Board of Trade, with different forms of vested interests, provided objective and often sobering judgements to proposals made on the question of naval export construction or second-hand sales. The Board of Trade regularly provided a useful assessment of the worth of various initiatives in terms of the wider commercial considerations affecting the continent. The Treasury’s frequently sceptical and seemingly negative pronouncements delayed progress but have to be acknowledged as suitably pragmatic in the light of Britain’s own financial uncertainties in both the interwar and post-war periods. Its rivalry with the FO was illustrated most aptly by Leon Solomon, quoted in Chapter 7. This example illustrates in microcosm an on-going tussle for supremacy between the two leading offices of state.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 200

04/12/2013 08:14



Epitaph and Legacy

201

However, it is the passage of the Royal Navy through this period of change that is the most revealing aspect of this study. In some senses, it mirrors Britain’s own progress from an imperial to a post-imperial power. During the 1920s, the Admiralty was still independently powerful and persuasive enough to argue for the return of its ships to South American waters. Its anxiety to preserve the flow of orders through the naval shipbuilding yards was engendered by the increasing potency of the American and Japanese fleets at the time. It was mentioned in Chapter 4 that the decade after World War One also marked the diminishing influence of the Admiralty and the increasing ascendancy of the Treasury. But the decline in influence of the ‘senior service’ was most pronounced in the two decades following the end of World War Two, culminating in the Admiralty’s absorption into the MoD in 1964. The RN did not relish its duties in the Antarctic in the late 1940s, for example; the threat of one of its frigates being trapped in the ice was potentially very humiliating indeed. Worse still, it was forced to concede that it lacked the naval power locally to counter the Argentine Navy. All this took place at a time when it was fighting its greatest battles at home to preserve what it perceived as its rightful status as a front-rank naval power.

An evolutionary process The decisions taken in the mid-1960s to cancel the construction of the carrier CVA–01 and then effectively to withdraw British forces from their bases east of Suez have been singled out as key milestones which marked the end of the Royal Navy as a leading naval power. On the surface, these two events appear neatly to amplify Paul Kennedy’s frequently quoted valediction on the collapse of the British Empire and, by default, its once all-powerful navy: ‘Step by step the British retreated – or rather stumbled – back to their island base, whence they had emerged some two or more centuries earlier to dominate a great part of the globe and its oceans.’1 The policies on future defence commitments made by the Labour Government after 1964 affected the Royal Navy more than the other two armed services. The cancellation of CVA–01 meant that the Navy would not be able effectively to fulfil its power projection roles in the Middle and Far East, to which it had committed so many of its resources and which it had long asserted was its raison d’être. The central component of the argument agreed in Cabinet in 1966 against the building of up to three new carriers was that ‘they were only relevant in the

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 201

04/12/2013 08:14

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

202

Far East; in the Atlantic they were too vulnerable and in the Mediterranean and the Middle East air cover could be provided from land bases’.2 The consequence, for regions such as South America where the White Ensign had been a familiar sight in its ports for well over two hundred years, meant that in future visits would be infrequent and undertaken in small numbers only as part of Britain’s commitments to its South Atlantic and Antarctic possessions. The magnitude of the economic crises facing Britain in the latter part of the decade were such that there was simply no alternative other than to continue to reduce spending on defence and largely to withdraw its military presence from east of Suez. However, as Jeremy Fielding has noted, the cuts were made in the face of much opposition from the USA which, deeply involved in the Vietnam War at the time, feared that a serious power vacuum would be created in the Indian Ocean once British forces withdrew from that region. He claims that efforts to keep Britain’s forces east of Suez extended to a tacit agreement not to put pressure on the Wilson Government to send troops to Vietnam.3 Edward Hampshire points out that, as a consequence of Britain’s withdrawal of forces from Singapore, Australia became disenchanted with the ‘mother-country’ and increasingly turned to the United States for support in fulfilling its defence requirements.4 However, Ashley Jackson states that, although by the end of the 1960s Britain’s empire had largely physically disappeared, people have, in effect, been ‘blinded’ to the continuations of British power and ‘defence posture’. The overseas presence did not evaporate in the 1960s but continues to the present day.5 Thus the transformation to a post-Empire phase was not a terminal ‘stumbling retreat’ but rather a process of evolution, aided by the retention of some strategically important island remnants from the past and sustained by what might best be described as ‘the after-glow of empire’: the country’s international status, its web of connections and its long experience as a trading nation with historic links across the world.

The legacy of the South American experience Importantly, at a pivotal moment in its history, the Royal Navy managed to forge a new role for itself that enabled its ships and its personnel to sustain a global capability and in turn to make a valuable contribution to Britain’s foreign policy ambitions. The ‘Group Operating’ concept carried the full backing of its senior officers who correctly assessed that this was the best way to ensure that

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 202

04/12/2013 08:14



Epitaph and Legacy

203

the skills and capabilities of its personnel were maintained at the highest level of efficiency, even if, officially, its recognized area of operations would in future be restricted to the boundaries set by NATO.6 What became official ‘policy’ received ministerial approval in 1973. It was designed to enable task groups consisting of six or more warships and some accompanying auxiliaries to undertake protracted overseas cruises for up to nine months at a time. The architect of this concept is generally accepted to be the Vice Chief of Naval Staff at the time, Vice-Admiral Terence Lewin, who considered that restricting RN ships to operations solely within the NATO area would be detrimental both to the Navy and to the country. In this respect, his biographer claims that Lewin had the tacit support of the government of the day, including the FCO, although the method of achieving this aim was not readily apparent at the time.7 Withdrawal from east of Suez was, of course, an intensely controversial political decision, vehemently opposed by the Conservatives and not universally welcomed by the party in power. The Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson was himself reluctant to fall back on Europe alone, part of an unbroken succession of post-war Prime Ministers stretching back to Clement Attlee and forward to the present day who have perceived Britain’s foreign policy aspirations as greater than merely those of a medium-sized European power.8 Oliver Daddow has argued that the premise upon which British foreign and defence policy was based throughout the latter half of the twentieth century and into the twenty-first had remained essentially undisturbed by the passage of time. He contends that Winston Churchill’s speech at the Conservative Party Conference in 1948, in which the Party Leader expounded on his ‘three circles’ model of British foreign policy, has yet to be superseded. Churchill had stated that Britain enjoyed a uniquely influential position being at the intersection of three circles of power comprising first the British Commonwealth and Empire, second the English-speaking world, and lastly ‘a united Europe’.9 Edward Heath’s Conservative Government, which defeated Labour in the 1970 General Election, eased the Navy’s argument for the retention of a global capability through acceptance of the Group Deployment policy which would allow diplomatic friendship and support to be offered to friendly nations with the prospect of export sales following along. Clearly this was not to be a reversion to the Pax Britannica of old. As former Defence Minister Peter Carrington remarks pragmatically in his autobiography: It looked, therefore, as if the principal pattern of Britain’s military influence outside the NATO area would henceforth be training assistance, equipment

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 203

04/12/2013 08:14

204

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

sales and after-sales service, advisory support. It might be less exciting than the ability to launch expeditions beyond palm and pine but it could be selffinancing and it didn’t require carrier-borne air support.10

The most sustained opposition to the Group Deployment policy came from the Foreign and Commonwealth Office which needed to be convinced that the suggested pattern of annual deployments would fulfil the same diplomatic function as the old overseas station ship with its year-round presence. In December 1972 the Naval Staff produced a ‘Green Paper’ setting out plans which in effect only slightly reduced the Navy’s east of Suez commitment, which consisted at the time of the Beira Patrol ship in the Western Indian Ocean, the Hong Kong Guard ship, a regular presence in the Persian Gulf and a naval contribution to the South-East Asia ANZUK (Australia, New Zealand and UK) alliance. In summary, the RN’s plans meant that there would never be fewer than four warships east of Suez, while for 44 weeks out of 52 there would be eight or more. The FCO, while broadly welcoming the Navy’s plans, were concerned that a unique characteristic of naval power would be lost, one which set it apart from other forms of peacetime military power, namely its ‘unobtrusiveness’. It was feared that the arrival of warships in numbers in a foreign port could serve to erode the fragile sense of trust, essential in foreign relations, through an overt demonstration of naval power. Moreover Her Majesty’s Government might be criticized for neglect of interest in a region owing to the irregularity of the Group Operating arrangement. Finally, the RN’s traditional ability to respond quickly in an emergency, particularly in the far-flung Pacific Island territories, would mostly be lost.11 It was proposed that, through the Group Operating arrangement, a sizeable flotilla should be available for worldwide deployments for up to eight months of the year. Individual programmes of visits could be drawn up in consultation with the FCO. The task groups could exercise together or in smaller numbers. Port visits could also be arranged on a flexible basis depending on the particular diplomatic impact such a visit required. Although the frequency of the flotilla’s port visits would be reduced, the quality would be enhanced by arriving in numbers. What is clear from the substance of the lively exchange of correspondence between the MoD and the FCO at the time was that the crux of the matter concerned the preservation of Britain’s reputation as a leading world power and a key influence in international affairs. Some even saw advantage in a future

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 204

04/12/2013 08:14



Epitaph and Legacy

205

post-colonial world. Ann Lane has maintained that Harold Macmillan, in his second term of office as Prime Minister, regarded decolonization as ‘an opportunity rather than a retreat’, a chance for Britain to maintain its influence east of Suez by retaining strong links with former colonies. Both Lane and Geoffrey Till have claimed that by adopting an independent, assertive posture Britain was able to continue to influence the US as its closest ally.12 It would be wrong to assume that Britain was alone in exploiting its warships for these purposes as global markets opened up, signalling a period of greater prosperity for some Western nations. For example, almost concurrently with the 1969 Western Squadron cruise, a Dutch Navy squadron was undertaking a round-the-world deployment. ‘Wereldreis 1970’ visited the USA, Australia and Japan among other places, advertising its country’s defence industries and commerce at such events as the World Exhibition in Kobe and the Captain Cook bicentennial commemoration in Sydney.13 Although it is not officially recognized in any of the available documents of the period, there is enough evidence to suggest that the Group Operating policy, so enthusiastically proposed by the RN at the beginning of the 1970s, had as its precursor the successful Special Squadron deployments to South America during the 1960s. It was Lewin’s contention that the task group, arriving in numbers at a foreign port, would carry a greater impact and attract more attention than the routine visit by a single ship. This was shown to be the case when the solitary frigate HMS Jaguar failed to make the same impact as the 1964 Group Deployment two years earlier. The task group would serve to advertise the fact that Britain remained a significant naval power with the resources to assist a friendly nation if necessary. Furthermore, the ability of the group to act as a platform for defence sales was something the station ship was unlikely to achieve other than in a minimal form. For the RN itself, anxious as ever to preserve its ‘blue-water navy’ status, the concept of a number of ships operating and training together in a self-sufficient manner while en-route to a foreign destination and under independent command provided the most compelling aspect of the entire enterprise. All these factors had been amply demonstrated earlier during the course of the recent South American deployments. Admiral Lewin also argued that the ability to operate on a worldwide basis would provide ideal experience if the Navy was ever required to deal with a totally unexpected crisis. The Falklands War, less than a decade later, provided the ideal vindication of his theory.14 The concept of the Group Operating policy also marked a fundamental and profound shift in thinking by the Naval Staff about the Royal Navy’s future

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 205

04/12/2013 08:14

206

The Role of the Royal Navy in South America, 1920–1970

role as a force with a global capability. In 1978, in answer to criticisms about one of the shortcomings of the task group concept, Admiral Lewin wrote that ‘The purpose of the Group is not to prowl the high seas in the hope that it may stumble across a war, nor is it to maintain a force-level in any area as part of an alliance.’ He added that ‘The real value of Group Deployments lies much more in the opportunities they give for maintaining world-wide expertise among our officers and men and the chances to exercise with non-NATO navies.’15 It is instructive to contrast this view with the words of Lord Chatfield, a former First Sea Lord, in a speech made in the House of Lords in 1954: [T]he defence of the seas is not like a military defence, where men sit in trenches and wait for the enemy to attack them. It is an offensive defensive. The Navy’s defensive is an offensive defensive. To pursue the enemy all over the world until it finds him and destroys him – that is the role of the Navy in maritime defence …16

Thus an important mind-shift had taken place in the quarter-century that had passed between the making of these two remarks. Greg Kennedy argues that in the decade after World War Two the RN ‘as an institution’ still believed that its core function was to defend the global interests of a ‘greater Britain’. In stark contrast, there is recognition by Admiral Lewin in 1978 that the Navy no longer sought to undertake the global ‘offensive defensive role’, either independently or in concert with other nations, but regarded the deployments outside the NATO area primarily as opportunities to represent the country’s wider foreign policy objectives which were fundamentally concerned with maintaining peace and encouraging trade.17 The significance of the RN’s Group Deployment policy can be measured by its longevity. During the first 35 years of its existence (1973–2008) no fewer than 29 task groups were despatched to various parts of the world. It is interesting to note that on several occasions these ships were subsequently diverted in order to undertake expeditionary-type operations, such as in the Adriatic (1993), Sierra Leone (2000) and The Persian Gulf (2001). These operations can be seen to fulfil the constructs of Geoffrey Till’s theory of the ‘post-modern’ navy whose focus is primarily based on the maintenance of international rather than national peace and security. Moreover, for those who cast doubts on the modern relevance of navies, such examples underline the inherent flexibility of maritime power.18 The FCO’s initial misgivings about this policy rested on the need to pursue what had become a core objective of successive governments since the end of World War Two, namely to ensure that Britain remained at the ‘hub’ of world affairs despite losing the vast majority of its former territories. The Group Deployment policy which grew out of the decision to close many foreign naval

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 206

04/12/2013 08:14



Epitaph and Legacy

207

stations enabled the RN to continue to support its country’s foreign policy aims: namely to encourage trade and to endorse Britain’s various diplomatic commitments.

Conclusion The crucial political decisions made between 1965 and 1968 should have ended the RN’s role as a global force in line with the country’s decline as a world power. However, the experience of the past 50 years has shown that the country’s foreign policy ambitions have demanded its armed services retain the capability to operate on a global basis much as before. The introduction of the Group Operating policy marked a key turning point, serving as it did to preserve the skills and experience needed for extended ‘blue water’ operations and incorporating an increasingly significant undertaking as an agent of British commercial and political diplomacy. The Royal Navy’s ability to execute this function, for long practised but little acknowledged on the South American littoral, has supported the country’s on-going foreign policy ambitions in addition to exercising its responsibilities both to the Commonwealth and in the supervision of the rump of its former empire.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 207

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 208

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes Introduction  1 The Scribes, (no date), With HMS ‘Caradoc’, Round South America. Lowestoft: The Borough Press, p. 55.  2 Ibid., p. 26.    The need, at the time, to maintain regular contact with such small groups of oil industry workers is explained in Miller, Rory (1993), Britain and Latin America in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries. London, Longman, pp. 188–9.   3 The employment of the term ‘Police Force’ to describe the peacetime duties of the Royal Navy is used by Edwards, Cdr. R. L., (1930), ‘The Navy as a Police Force’, The Naval Review, 18, (4), 696–706. Clearly this was the common perception of the role used by serving officers at the time.    Most articles which appeared in the professional officers’ journal The Naval Review lacked the author’s identity which allowed the individuals to express often radical views openly without fear of reprisals. Although Cdr. Edwards has been identified in this instance, other references made to The Naval Review articles in this book will carry the original pseudonym employed by the author.   4 The ‘One Power Standard’ stipulated that the British Fleet would be as large as that of any other single power. It was formally adopted by the Imperial Conference in 1921 and remained in place for the next 15 years. See Roskill, Stephen (1968), Naval Policy Between the Wars 1: The Period of Anglo-American Antagonism, 1919–1929. London: Collins, p. 21.    The term South America, as used in this book, includes the following countries: Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Guyana (British Guiana), Colombia, Chile, Ecuador, Guiana (French Guiana), Paraguay, Peru, Suriname (Dutch Guiana), Uruguay and Venezuela. The term Latin America, which incorporates the Central American countries from Mexico in the north to Panama in the south, is also occasionally used, particularly when quoting from United States Foreign Policy where the two geographical areas are frequently regarded as one.   5 Laurence Martin claims that demonstrations of naval power in order to coerce ‘have introduced “showing the flag” into the English language as the epitome of open assertion’. Martin, Laurence (1985), ‘The Use of Naval Forces in Peacetime’, Naval War College Review, 38, (1), 4–14, 6.   6 The impact on the RN and its leadership of technological advances in

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 209

04/12/2013 08:14

210 Notes

  7   8

  9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

communication in the twentieth century are variously explored by Lambert, Nicholas A. (2004),‘Transformation and Technology in the Fisher Era: The Impact of the Communications Revolution’, in The Journal of Strategic Studies, 27, (2), 272–97; Lambert, Andrew (2009), Admirals: The Naval Commanders Who Made Britain Great. London: Faber & Faber, pp. 421–5; Wells, Captain John, RN (1994), The Royal Navy: An Illustrated Social History. Stroud, Sutton Publishing, pp. 38–72. James, Admiral Sir William (1943), Admiral Sir William Fisher. London: Macmillan, pp. 146–7. The National Archives (TNA), ADM 116/2568, America and West Indies Station & suggestions for improvements of British trade with Foreign countries, 1927–28. Extract from Board Minutes, Paragraph 2388, 3 November 1927. Gough, Barry (1999), ‘Profit and Power: Informal Empire, the navy and Latin America’, in Raymond E. Durnett (ed.), Gentlemanly Capitalism and British Imperialism: The New Debate on Empire. Harlow: Longman, p. 72. Hamilton, C. I. (2005), ‘British Naval Policy, Policy-Makers and Financial Control, 1860–1945’, War in History, 12, (4), 371–95, 374–6. Ferris, John (1987), ‘Treasury Control, the Ten Year Rule and British Service Policies, 1919–1924’, The Historical Journal, 30, (4), 859–83. TNA, CAB 27/72, Finance Memoranda 1–80, 1919–21. ‘Abolition of the Light Cruiser Squadron’, Paragraph 3. Smith, H. H. (1932), A ‘Yellow’ Admiral Remembers. London: Edward Arnold, p. 54. The Scribes, With HMS ‘Caradoc’, Foreword. Anon. (no date), The Cruise of HMS Exeter. London: W. H. Smith, p. 108. Hart-Dyke, Captain David, RN (2007), Four Weeks in May: The Loss of HMS Coventry. A Captain’s Story. London: Atlantic Books, pp. 8–9. The Scribes, With HMS ‘Caradoc’, pp. 44–5.

Chapter One   1 Martin, L. W. (1967), The Sea in Modern Strategy. London: Chatto & Windus, pp. 138–9.   2 Cable, James (1971), Gunboat Diplomacy: Political Applications of Limited Naval Force. London: Chatto & Windus. Also Cable, James (1985), Diplomacy at Sea. Basingstoke: Macmillan; and Cable, James (1998), The Political Influence of Naval Force in History. Basingstoke: Macmillan.  3 Cable, Gunboat Diplomacy, pp. 23–68. Cable does not use the emotive term ‘coercion’ in his work; instead he defines ‘definitive’, ‘purposeful’, ‘catalytic’ and ‘expressive’ types of ‘gunboat diplomacy’.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 210

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

211

  4 Luttwak, Edward N. (1974), The Political Uses of Sea Power. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, pp. 6 and 13.    Luttwak’s explanation for the choice of an unusual variation of the word persuasion is that it conveys ‘the indirectness of any political application of naval force’. Luttwak, ibid., p. 3.   5 Vego, Milan (2008), ‘On Naval Power’. Joint Forces Quarterly, 50 (3), 8–17, 11–12.   6 Davidson, Rear-Admiral Bob, RCN (2008–9), ‘Modern Naval Diplomacy – A Practitioner’s View’, Journal of Military and Strategic Studies, 11, (1 and 2), 1–47, 8.   7 Codner, Michael (2009), ‘“Defining Deterrence”: Framing Deterrence in the 21st Century’. Pre-Conference Note, Royal United Services Institute, pp. 3 and 6. Available online at http://www.rusi.org/downloads/assets/Defining_ Deterrence_-_A_Pre-Conference_Note.pdf (accessed 24 August 2013).   8 McNulty, Commander James F., USN (1974), ‘Naval Presence – The Misunderstood Mission’, Naval War College Review, 27, (2), 21–31, 21.  9 McNulty, ibid., pp. 25–6. 10 Booth, K. (1977), Navies and Foreign Policy. London: Croom Helm, p. 269. 11 Booth, ibid., pp. 44–5. 12 Till, Geoffrey (2009), Seapower; A Guide for the Twenty-First Century, Second Edition. London: Routledge, pp. 275–9. 13 No Author (2004), BR1806, British Maritime Doctrine, Third Edition. London: The Stationery Office, pp. 64–5 and 74–5. 14 James, Admiral Sir William, RN (1943), Admiral Sir William Fisher. London: Macmillan, pp. 102–3.    David French provides a summary of the events leading up the Washington Naval Conference. See French, David (1990), The British Way of Warfare, 1688–2000. London: Unwin Hyman, pp. 183–5.    Roskill describes the proceedings of the Washington Conference and the American proposal for a 10-year shipbuilding ‘holiday’. Roskill, Stephen (1968), Naval Policy Between the Wars I: The Period of Anglo-American Antagonism 1919–1929. London: Collins, pp. 300–30.    Bell, Christopher M. (2000), The Royal Navy, Seapower and Strategy between the Wars. California: Stanford University Press, p. 149.    David Edgerton challenges the view that Britain’s armaments industry suffered a lengthy decline in the 1920s. See Edgerton, David (2006), Warfare State: Britain 1920 to 1970. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 36 and 46–7. 15 The National Archives (TNA), ADM 116/2568, America and West Indies Station: Suggestions for Improvements of British Trade with Foreign Countries, 1927–28. DNI Admiralty Internal Memorandum, 29 October 1928.    G. A. H. Gordon states that, during this period, ‘industry’s access on a competitive basis to naval work for foreign governments was … obstructed’. The

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 211

04/12/2013 08:14

212 Notes government refused to grant either credit guarantees to arms exporters or trade facilities to foreign buyers, in order to avoid accusations of arms trafficking. Gordon, G. A. H. (1998), British Seapower and Procurement between the Wars: A Reappraisal of Rearmament. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, p. 90. 16 TNA, ibid. 17 Vivian, Captain J. G. P., RN (1934), HMS ‘Dauntless’ 1930–1932: American and West Indies Station. Lowestoft: The Borough Press, Foreword. 18 Agar, Captain Augustus, RN (1962), Showing the Flag: The Role of the Royal Navy between the World Wars. London: Evans, pp. 24–5. 19 Ibid., pp. 27 and 32. Agar was no doubt influenced by A. J. Marder, who expressed similar views on the righteousness of the British use of naval power. See Marder, A. J. (1972), The Anatomy of British Sea Power: A History of British Naval Policy in the Pre-Dreadnought Era, 1880–1905. London: Frank Cass, p. 15.    A detailed description of Admiral Jellicoe’s naval mission and the rationale behind it is to be found in TNA, ADM1/8548/2, Lord Jellicoe Naval Mission to India and the Dominions in 1919–1920: Historical Review, 1919. 20 Lambert, Andrew (2008), Admirals: The Naval Commanders who Made Britain Great. London: Faber & Faber, pp. 260–2; TNA, ADM 1/6096, Admirals Va Flying Squadron, 1869. 21 Hendrix, Henry J. (2009), Theodore Roosevelt’s Naval Diplomacy: The U.S. Navy and the Birth of the American Century. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, p. 158. 22 Reckner, James (1983), Teddy Roosevelt’s Great White Fleet. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, p. 13.    Ironically, the US battleships were painted white not to signify peace but due to ‘… the natural cooling qualities of white paint, which lowered the internal temperature of ships operating in the tropics’. See Hendrix, Theodore Roosevelt’s Naval Diplomacy, p. 155. 23 Collin, Richard H. (1994), ‘The Tage’s Visit to New Orleans, Mardi Gras 1903: Changing French Naval Strategy and Carnival Goodwill’, Louisiana History: The History of the Louisiana Historical Association, 35, (1), 51–66, 51–3. 24 Rüger, Jan (2007), The Great Naval Game: Britain and Germany in the Age of Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 224 and 231. 25 Roskill, Naval Policy Between the Wars I, p. 275. 26 J. S. S. L. (1975), ‘Royal Naval Occasions’, The Naval Review, 63, (3), 217–24, 217; Moretz, Joseph (2003), The Royal Navy and the Capital Ship in the Interwar Period: An Operational Perspective. London: Frank Cass, p. 187. 27 Roskill, Naval Policy Between the Wars I, p. 289. 28 Gordon, W. R. (1925), ‘Special Service Squadron World Cruise, November 1923 to September 1924. Being Extracts from the Diary of Midshipman W. R. Gordon’, The Naval Review, 13, (1), 108–14, 108.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 212

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

213

29 Harrington, Ralph (2003), ‘“The Mighty Hood”: Navy, Empire, War at Sea and the British National Imagination, 1920–60’, Journal of Contemporary History, 38, (2), 171–85, 174. 30 Gordon, ‘Special Service Squadron World Cruise’, 111; Harrington, ‘“The Mighty Hood”, 180. 31 ‘Uitlander’, (1947), ‘The Navy and the Royal Visit to South Africa’, The Naval Review, 35, (2), 97–101, 97. 32 Grove, Eric J. (1987), Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War II. London: The Bodley Head, p. 159. 33 South China Morning Post, 24 June 1997, pp. 1 and 3. 34 National Maritime Museum (NMM), GOD/73, Naval Intelligence Department Monograph: Naval Attachés & Naval Missions, 1947, p. 13. 35 Fotakis, Zsis (2005), Greek Naval Strategy and Policy, 1910–1919. London: Routledge. 36 Ibid., pp. 25–41. 37 TNA, ADM 1/8756/157, Brief History of British Naval Missions to Greece 1911–32, 1932. ‘British Naval Mission to Greece’. 38 Fotakis, Greek Naval Strategy and Policy, pp. 69–100 and 140–7. 39 Chesneau, Roger (ed.), (1980), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 404–6.    A typical Mediterranean cruise during the interwar years, including visits to Greek ports, is described in Cunningham, Admiral of the Fleet Viscount of Hyndhope (1951), A Sailor’s Odyssey. London: Hutchinson, pp. 162–9.    TNA, ADM 1/8756/157. British Naval Mission to Greece, Case 3479, p. 4. 40 Rooney, Chris B (1998), ‘The International Significance of British Naval Missions to the Ottoman Empire, 1908–1914’, Middle Eastern Studies, 34, (1), 1–29, 27.    NMM, RNCG/2/19, Register of Foreign Officer Students at Royal Naval College, Greenwich, 1904–1927. 41 NMM, NOS/12, Norris, David Thomas, Admiral, 1875–1937, ‘Persia’ Naval Mission 1920. Letter: Captain David Norris to Lancelot Oliphant, Foreign Office, 26 March 1920. 42 Ibid., Letter: Captain David Norris to Secretary of the Admiralty, London, 21 February 1921. 43 NMM, GRO/5, British Naval Mission to China 1931–33. Semi-official correspondence and notes with the Director of Naval Intelligence, 1930–3, April 1931.    ‘Beaver’, (1977), ‘Non-Stop Variety: Notes on a Naval Mission to China 1931–1933’, The Naval Review, 65, (2), 104–13, 108, 112–13. 44 NMM, GRO/5, British Naval Mission to China, ‘Report on British Naval Mission in Nanking – Thursday 11 February 1932’, is an example of Baillie-Grohmann’s

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 213

04/12/2013 08:14

214 Notes pessimistic view on the state of the mission roughly half way through his appointment.    In 1934, some Chinese officers petitioned for the Commodore to return. This led to a second mission being despatched in 1935. See, ‘Beaver’, ‘Non-Stop Variety’, p. 112. 45 Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, p. 413. 46 Stoker, Donald (2003), Britain, France and the Naval Arms Trade in the Baltic, 1919–1939: Grand Strategy and Failure. London: Frank Cass, p. 26. 47 Ibid., pp. 26–9. 48 Ibid., pp. 33–9. 49 TNA, ADM 1/17893, Naval Training (54): Admission of foreign officers to staff courses: Navy, Army & RAF policies, 1930–31; 1944–45. Admiralty Staff DNI Minute, 29 September 1930; Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, pp. 359–62. 50 TNA, ADM 1/17893, Naval Training. Admiralty Staff DNI Minute, Paragraph 2, 29 September 1930. 51 TNA, ADM 1/17893, Naval Training. Letter: Foreign Office to Admiralty, 30 October 1930 and DNI Minute, 1 November 1930. 52 TNA, ADM 116/2710, British Naval Mission to Romania, 1929–1930, Letter: Naval Attaché British Legation, Bucharest to British Minister, Bucharest, 22 June 1926. 53 Ibid., Letters: British Legation, Bucharest to Foreign Secretary, 8 April and 20 May 1930; Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, pp. 359–62. 54 TNA, ADM1/8762/254, Policy regarding visits by Naval Attachés to foreign warships at sea, 1932. 55 TNA, ADM 1/8773/50, Visits of British Naval Attachés to foreign war vessels under construction and of foreign naval officers to British war vessels under construction, 1937–1938. Director of Naval Intelligence Memo to Naval Attaché, Buenos Aires, 7 July 1933. 56 NMM, GOD/73, N.I.D. Monographs, p. 3. 57 Ibid., pp. 3, 5 and 12. 58 Arnold, A. J. (2001), ‘“Riches beyond the Dreams of Avarice”?: Commercial Returns on British Warship Construction, 1889–1914’, Economic History Review, 54, (2), 267–89, 267.    The Admiralty’s relationship with the private sector in earlier times has been explored in Knight, Roger, and Wilcox, Martin (2010), Sustaining the Fleet 1793–1815: War, the British Navy and the Contractor State. Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer. 59 Scott, J. D. (1962), Vickers: A History. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, p. 34. 60 Pollard, Sidney (1952), ‘Laissez-Faire and Shipbuilding’, The Economic History Review, New Series, 5, (1), 98–115.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 214

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

215

   Among other arguments that run contrary to the image of the private companies as innovative and forward-thinking, Pollard argues that it was the Admiralty construction staff who led the way while the private companies were reactionary in their attitude towards change. 61 Contrasting assessments of the arms trade at the time can be found in Sampson, Anthony (1977), The Arms Bazaar. London: Hodder & Stoughton, pp. 35–68; Trebilcock, C. (1976), ‘The British Armaments Industry, 1890–1913: False Identity and True Utility’, in G. Best and A. Wheatcroft (eds), War, Economy and the Military Mind. London, Croom Heim, pp. 89–107. 62 Arnold, ‘“Riches beyond the Dreams of Avarice”?’, 269.    The warship building programme outlined in the 1889 Naval Defence Act required the construction of 10 battleships, 9 armoured cruisers, 33 smaller cruisers and 18 torpedo-boat destroyers. Naval spending rose from £12,999,895 in 1888 to £15,553,929 two years later. See Beeler, John F. (1997), British Naval Policy in the Gladstone-Disraeli Era 1866–1880. California, Stanford University Press, pp. 192 and 268–9.    The share of the massive shipbuilding programme allocated to the private sector cost £21.5 million, representing 335,060 tons of warships. See Peebles, Hugh B. (1987), Warshipbuilding on the Clyde: Naval Orders and the Prosperity of the Clyde Shipbuilding Industry, 1889–1939. Edinburgh: John Donald, pp. 30–1. 63 Arnold, ‘“Riches beyond the Dreams of Avarice”?’, 274. Peebles, Warshipbuilding on the Clyde, p. 38. 64 Johnman, Lewis, and Murphy, Hugh (2005), ‘Welding and the British Shipbuilding Industry: A Major Constraint?’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London, Frank Cass, pp. 93–4; Johnston, Ian, Newman, Brian and Buxton, Ian (2012), ‘Building the Grand Fleet: 1906–1916’, in Jordan, John (ed.), Warship 2012, London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 8–21. 65 Brook, Peter (1999), Warships for Export: Armstrong Warships 1867–1927. Gravesend: World Ship Society, pp. 15–17. 66 Japan’s advance rapid transformation from dependency on foreign shipbuilders to an indigenous industry is described in Broadbridge, Seymour (1977), ‘Shipbuilding and the State in Japan since the 1850s’, Modern Asian Studies, 11, (4), 601–13, 601–5. 67 Arnold, ‘”Riches beyond the Dreams of Avarice”?’, 277. 68 Platt, D. C. M. (1972), Latin America and British Trade 1806–1914. London: A & C Black, pp. 204–5. 69 Gray, Randal (1985) (ed.), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1906–1921. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 403–4 70 Scheina, Robert L. (1987), Latin America: A Naval History 1810–1987. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, pp. 80–1; Montenegro, Guillermo J. (2002), ‘An Argentine

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 215

04/12/2013 08:14

216 Notes Naval Build-Up in the Disarmament Era: The Naval Procurement Act of 1926’, in Antony Preston (ed.), Warship 2002–2003. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 117–18; Livermore, Seward W. (1944), ‘Battleship Diplomacy in South America: 1905–1925’, The Journal of Modern History, 16, (1), 31–48, 32. 71 Livermore, ’Battleship Diplomacy in South America’, 33. Brazil’s fears about the ambitions of its southern neighbour in the early part of the 20th century are described by Hilton, Stanley E. (1982), ‘The Armed Forces and Industrialists in Modern Brazil: The Drive for Military Autonomy (1889–1954)’, The Hispanic American Historical Review, 62, (4), 629–73, 629–33. An analysis of the cultural aspects of Argentina’s intense sensitivity towards territorial rights is provided by Escudé, Carlos (2006), ‘Argentine Territorial Nationalism’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 20, (1), 139–65. 72 Walters, William D. Jr. (2000), ‘American Naval Shipbuilding, 1890–1989’, Geographical Review, 90, (3), 418–31, 419; Livermore, ’Battleship Diplomacy in South America’, 35. The two Rivadavia Class ships were plagued by a number of serious technical deficiencies prior to delivery that were no doubt due to the inexperience of the Fore River Company. These faults included excessive coal consumption, which contravened the terms of the contract, and the ships’ turbines that failed during trials and had to be re-bladed. See Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 84. 73 Gray, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1906–1921, p. 408; Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 84. 74 Livermore, ’Battleship Diplomacy in South America’, 46.

Chapter Two   1 Dancer, Alec (2002), The Dons Delivered: Ships Built in Vickers 1930–1947 -The Work and Play of the Shipbuilders of this Era. Barrow-in-Furness: Alec Dancer, pp. 14–15 and 18.   2 Barclay, Glen (1971), Struggle for a Continent: The Diplomatic History of South America, 1917–1945. London: Sidgwick & Jackson, pp. 22 and 26; Glade, William P. (1969), The Latin American Economies: A Study of Their Institutional Evolution. New York: American Book Company, p. 440.   3 These disputes between South American neighbours are examined in Child, Jack (1985), Geopolitics and Conflict in South America: Quarrels among Neighbours. New York: Praeger; Mares, David R. (1998), ‘Strategic Balance and Confidence Building Measures in Latin America: The Historical Utility of an Ambiguous Concept’, in Joseph S. Tulchin and Francisco Rojas Aravena with Ralph H. Espach (eds), Strategic Balance and Confidence Building Measures in the Americas.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 216

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

217

California: Stanford University Press, pp. 139–58; Gamba-Stonehouse, Virginia (1989), Strategy in the Southern Oceans: A South American View. London: Pinter Publishers, pp. 1–10.   4 Fermandois, Joaquin (1990), ‘Chile and the Great Powers’, in Michael A. Morris (ed.), Great Power Relations in Argentina, Chile and Antarctica. Basingstoke: Macmillan, p. 78.   5 Couyoumdjian, Juan (1986), Chile y Gran Bretaña durante las primera Guerra Mundial y la postguerra, 1914–1921. Santiago: Andrés Bello, p. 248.   6 Miller, Rory (1993), Britain and Latin America in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries. London: Longman, pp. 183–93.   7 Reynolds, David (1991), Britannia Overruled: British Policy and World Power in the Twentieth Century. London: Longman, pp. 105–6 and 111.   8 McKercher, B. J. (1999), Transition of Power: Britain’s Loss of Global Pre-eminence to the United States, 1930–1945. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 1–31.   9 Barton, Jonathan (2000), ‘Struggling against Decline: British Business in Chile, 1919–33’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 32, (1), 235–64, 235 and 258. 10 Ibid., 237–8. 11 Ibid., 242. 12 The National Archives (TNA), FO 371/14217, Chile 1930, ‘Annual Report for 1929’, Paragraph 9. 13 McKercher, Transition of Power, pp. 8–9; Orde, Anne (1996), The Eclipse of Great Britain: The United States and British Imperial Decline, 1895–1956. Basingstoke: Macmillan, p. 72; TNA, ‘Annual Report for 1929’, Paragraph 9. 14 Miller, Britain and Latin America in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, p. 186. 15 Examples include Kennedy, Paul M. (1981), The Realities behind Diplomacy. London: Fontana; Kennedy, Paul M. (1976), The Rise and Fall of British Naval Mastery. London: Penguin; Gordon, G. A. H. (1987), British Seapower and Procurement between the Wars: A Reappraisal of Rearmament. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press; Watt, D. C. (1989), How War Came: The Immediate Origins of the Second World War, 1938–39. London: Mandarin. 16 Edgerton, David (2006), Warfare State: Britain 1920–1970. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press; Peden, G. C. (2007), Arms, Economics and British Strategy. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press; Ferris, John (1996), ‘The Last Decade of British Maritime Supremacy, 1919–1929’, in Keith Neilson and Greg Kennedy (eds), Far Flung Lines: Studies in Imperial Defence in Honour of Donald Mackenzie Schurman. London: Frank Cass, pp. 125–69. 17 Ferris, ‘The Last Decade of Maritime Supremacy’, pp. 147–8; Kennedy, Gregory C. (1994), ‘Britain’s Policy-Making Elite, the Naval Disarmament Puzzle, and Public Opinion, 1927–1932’, Albion: A Quarterly Journal Concerned with British Studies, 26, (4), 623–44, 627.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 217

04/12/2013 08:14

218 Notes 18 Gordon, Andrew (1998), ‘Naval Procurement and Shipbuilding Capacity, 1918–1939’, in David J. Starkey and Alan G. Jamieson (eds), Exploiting the Sea: Aspects of Britain’s Maritime Economy since 1870. Exeter: Exeter University Press, pp. 104–17; Gordon, British Seapower and Procurement, pp. 76–80. 19 Ferris, John (1987), ‘Treasury Control, the Ten Year Rule and British Service Policies, 1919–1924’, The Historical Journal, 30:4, 859–83, 865. 20 G. A. H. Gordon describes the effect of this decade on these individual private shipbuilding businesses and the knock-on effect on specialized gun and armour manufacturers. Gordon, British Seapower and Procurement, pp. 76–91. 21 Each of the seven cruisers of the Kent Class took on average a little over three and a half years to build, from ‘laying down’ to completion. Chesneau, Roger (ed.), (1980), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–1946. London: Conway Maritime Press, p. 26. 22 Bell, Christopher M. (2013), Churchill and Sea Power. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 109–10. 23 Ibid., 122. 24 Gordon, British Seapower and Procurement between the Wars, pp. 82–4. 25 Johnman, Lewis and Murphy, Hugh (2005), Scott Lithgow: Déjà Vu all over again: The Rise and Fall of a Shipbuilding Company. Newfoundland: St. John’s, p. 17. Johnman and Murphy describe the wider effects of the 1920s depression in the industry in Johnman, Lewis and Murphy, Hugh (2005), ‘Welding and the British Shipbuilding Industry: A Major Constraint?’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London: Frank Cass, pp. 93–5. 26 Williams, David L. and De Kerbrech, Richard P. J. (2012), Samuel White & Co. Shipbuilders. Stroud: The History Press, pp. 83–4. 27 Cambridge University Library (CUL), Vickers Company Archive, Quarterly Works Reports: p. 6, Paragraph. 1, 30 June 1928 and p. 1, 31 March 1929. 28 Hansard, House of Commons Debates, 14 March 1927, Vol. 2003 cc1773–809 and 16 July 1925, Vol. 186, cc1557–682. 29 Bell, Churchill and Sea Power, p. 137. 30 TNA, BT 56/18, Armaments: Possibility of warship building forms securing foreign orders, 1929. Letter: Vickers-Armstrong to Treasury, 16 January 1930; Letter: Vickers-Armstrong to Treasury, 5 February 1930. 31 TNA, BT56/18, Admiralty Memorandum, 22 September 1930. 32 TNA, BT56/18, ‘Memorandum by First Lord of Admiralty’, 22 September 1930. 33 This seemingly comfortable state of affairs for the Italian shipbuilding industry in the interwar years, as portrayed by the Admiralty, was not the case according to Conti, Giuseppe (1994), ‘Financial Weakness and Industrial Conflict in Italian Shipbuilding between the Two World Wars’, in Simon P. Ville and David M. Williams (eds), Management, Finance and Industrial Relations in Maritime

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 218

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

219

Industries: Essays in International and Business History. Newfoundland: St. John’s, pp. 167–84. 34 TNA, BT56/18, Admiralty Memorandum, 22 September 1930. 35 Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1922–1946, p. 397 36 TNA, ADM 1/8695/35, Admiralty assistance to British firms constructing men of war for foreign powers, 1926. Internal Admiralty Minutes, October 1925. 37 TNA, ADM 1/ 8695/35, Admiralty Internal Minute: Report of a meeting between Controller and ACNS re. – helping firms to get orders, 9 February 1926. 38 TNA, ADM 116/2568, America and West Indies Station – suggestion for improvements of British trade with Foreign countries, 1927–1928. ‘Report of conference to discuss certain cruises projected with the object of stimulating foreign trade’, Paragraphs 1 and 2, 8 February 1927. 39 TNA, ADM 116/2568, ‘Report of conference’, Paragraphs 3 and 5. The destroyers referred to were HMS Amazon and Ambuscade, which were prototypes for the first entirely new design of destroyers to be built for the RN since the end of World War One. Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, p. 37.    Chile subsequently ordered three submarines of this design to be built in Britain. TNA, ADM 116/2568, Extract from private letter to DNI from Commander Jackson, Head of British Naval Advisory Staff in Chile, 10 November 1927. HMS Cumberland was the most modern 8-inch County Class cruiser at the time, completed in January 1928. KM Emden represented the first of a new generation of post-war German cruisers, completed in 1925. Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–1946, pp. 26 and 229. 40 Smith, Joseph (1981), ‘American Diplomacy and the Naval Mission to Brazil, 1917–30’, Inter-American Economic Affairs, 35, (1), 73–91, 73. 41 Ibid., 76–7. 42 Healy, David (1976), ‘Admiral William B. Caperton and United States Naval Diplomacy in South America, 1917–1918’, Journal of Latin-American Studies, 8, (2), 297–323, 303. 43 Healy, Admiral William B. Caperton, ibid., 298–303. 44 Smith, ‘American Diplomacy and the Naval Mission to Brazil’, 81–2. 45 Navy Department Washington, Memorandum: Rear-Admiral W. Caperton, USN to Chief of Naval Operations: ‘The Diplomatic Mission of the Navy’, May 12 1919. 46 Navy Department Washington, Memorandum: Planning Committee to Chief of Naval Operations: ‘The Diplomatic Mission of the Navy’, May 28 1919. 47 The US Navy also took the opportunity to show off its warships at the Brazilian Centennial Exhibition in 1922. See Smith, Joseph (1991), Unequal Giants: Diplomatic Relations between the United States and Brazil, 1889–1930. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, p. 143. Smith, ‘American Diplomacy and the Naval Mission to Brazil’, 90.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 219

04/12/2013 08:14

220 Notes 48 National Maritime Museum (NMM), TAI/6, Tait, Admiral Sir William Eric Campbell; Papers in Foreign Warships & Naval Personnel: Argentine Navy, Brazilian Navy and American describing both general and individual officers, 1930. Part 1: Brazilian, Paragraph 2. 49 Scheina, Robert L. (1987), Latin America: A Naval History 1810–1987. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, pp. 131–2. 50 It is claimed that, apart from HMS Swift, these were the largest destroyers in the world at the time. See Williams & de Kerbrech, J. Samuel White & Co., p. 61; Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, pp. 130–1. 51 Peter Brook states that four designs were initially offered to the Chileans, variously with 12-inch and 14-inch main armament. The selection of 14-inch guns made the Chilean battleships superior in armament to both the Brazilian Minas Gerais Class and, more importantly, the Argentine Rivadavia Class. Brook, Peter (1999), Warships for Export: Armstrong Warships 1867–1927, Gravesend: World Ship Society, pp. 145–8; Gray, Randal (ed.) (1985), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1906–21. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 409–10. 52 Email exchange between the author and C. R. M. Tromben-Corbalán, MS AE, PhD, Official Historian of the Chilean Navy, 30 and 31 August 2012. 53 English, Adrian (1984), Armed Forces of Latin America: Their Histories, Development, Present Strength and Military Potential. London: Jane’s, p. 65; Sahni, Varun (1993), ‘Not Quite British: A Study of External Influences on the Argentine Navy’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 25, (3), 489–513, 491–501. 54 Escudé, Carlos (2006), ‘Argentine Territorial Nationalism’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 20, (1), 139–65, 161. 55 TNA, ADM 167/76. Board of Admiralty Memoranda, 1927. ‘South America – British Naval Policy, 21 October 1927. 56 TNA, ADM 116/2129, South America. Proposed withdrawal of assistant naval attaché, 1921–23. DoD Internal Minute, 4 December 1922. 57 Roskill, Stephen (1968), Naval Policy Between the Wars I: The Period of AngloAmerican Antagonism 1919–1929. London: Collins, p. 228. 58 Bell, The Royal Navy, Seapower and Strategy between the Wars, p. 146. 59 TNA, ADM 116/2129, DNI Internal Minute, ‘Concerning the Question of Maintaining a Naval Attaché in South America’, 28 May 1921. 60 Ibid., DNI Internal Minute, 30 November 1922. 61 Roskill, Naval Policy Between the Wars 1, p. 105. 62 ADM 1/8663/115, Proposed re-establishment of South American Squadron, 1924. Various internal memoranda, October–December 1924. 63 Ibid.; Letter: Foreign Secretary to First Lord of Admiralty, 18 December, 1924; Letter: President of the Board of Trade to Admiralty, 22 December 1924; Board Minute, 1 January, 1925.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 220

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

221

64 TNA, ADM 167/76, Letters: British Ambassador, Buenos Aires to Foreign Secretary and to First Sea Lord, 1 August, 1927. 65 TNA, FO 177/492, Correspondence, 1926–27. Deputy Chief of Naval Staff (DCNS) Minute: ‘South America – British Naval Policy’, 21 October 1927. 66 TNA, ADM 167/75, Board of Admiralty Minutes 1927. Paragraph 2388, 3 November 1927.

Chapter Three   1 Fox, Alan (2011), ‘Prefacio’, in Michelle Prain (ed.), Legado Británico en Valparaíso. Viña del Mar: Universidad Andrés Bello, pp. 21–2.  2 The Academia de Guerra Naval formed from the old Escuella Naval in October 1911 is the oldest establishment of its kind in Latin America and the fourth oldest in the world, tracing its origins to the Arturo Prat Naval Academy founded in 1818. See Heitman, Helmoed-Romer (1985), ‘Training in the Chilean Navy’, Navy International, 93, (2), 94–9, 95.   3 Scheina, Robert L. (1987), Latin America: A Naval History 1810–1987. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, p. 139.   4 The National Archives (TNA), ADM 1/8655/16, Chilean Naval College: successor to directorship, 1924. DNI Internal Minute, 11 February 1924; Letter: Captain Tomlin to British Minister, Santiago, 5 December 1925.   5 TNA, FO 371/11122, Chile, 1926. Letter: British Legation to Foreign Office, 1 December 1925.   6 TNA, ADM 116/2568, America and West Indies Station – suggestions for improvements of British trade with Foreign countries, 1927–1928. Admiralty Internal Minute, Director of Naval Intelligence (DNI), 29 October 1926.   7 TNA, ADM 1/8717/218, Foreign Officers Training in British naval and air schools, 1927. Admiralty Internal Minute: Current Position regarding foreign officer training, 13 February 1925.  8 Ibid., Correspondence between Secretary to the Admiralty and Air Ministry, 24 July and 4 September 1925.   9 Roskill, Stephen (1968), Naval Policy Between the Wars I: The Period of AngloAmerican Antagonism 1919–1929. London: Collins, pp. 492–3. Roskill devotes a chapter of this book to the battle between the RN and the RAF between 1925 and 1927. See also, Hobbs, David (2005), ‘Naval Aviation, 1930–2000’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London: Frank Cass, pp. 69–88, for an account of the later clashes between the two services and the ultimate ‘victory’ for the Navy. 10 TNA, ADM 1/8717/218, Admiralty Internal Minute, DNI, 26 August 1926.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 221

04/12/2013 08:14

222 Notes 11 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Memoranda and Letters between Treasury and Admiralty, October–December 1926. The prospect of this conference was enough for one senior Treasury official to remark, ‘I am not much attracted naturally by your invitation to me to put my head into the lion’s mouth’, Letter: Treasury to Admiralty, 21 December 1926. 12 Ibid., ‘Training of Foreign Officers – Fees: Notes of a Conference’, 4 February 1927. 13 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Minute, DNI, 6 December 1929. The statistics produced for this audit nevertheless demonstrate the importance of Chile as a recipient of naval training at the time. 14 Ferris, John B. (1991), ‘“The Greatest Power on Earth”: Great Britain in the 1920s’, The International History Review, 13, (4), 726–50, 748. Till, Geoffrey (1996), ‘Adopting the Aircraft Carrier: The British, American, and Japanese Case Studies’, in Williamson Murray and Allan R. Millett (eds), Military Innovation in the Interwar Period. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 191–226, p. 204. 15 The operation of aircraft carriers was a particularly sensitive matter at the time. See TNA, ADM 116/2565, Training of Foreign Naval Officers Ashore and Afloat – Board Policy, 1927–1928. Admiralty Internal Minute: Head of NAS (Naval Air Section), 25 November 1927. 16 Ibid., ‘Appendix to Board Minute 2418’, 20 December 1927. 17 TNA, ADM 1/9678, Foreign Officers Training in the Royal Navy – Relaxation of Secrecy Rules, 1938. 18 TNA, FO 371/11976, Chile, 1927. Minute: Department of Overseas Trade, 11 January 1927; Chilean Foreign Relations Archive (CFRA), Archivo General Histórico, Volume 1104. Letters: Chilean Legation, London to C-in-C Chilean Navy, 6 January, 7 and 13 February 1927. 19 TNA, FO 371/11976, Letter: Foreign Office to Messrs. Thornycroft, 21 March 1927. Chesneau, Roger (ed), (1980), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1922–1946. London: Conway Maritime Press, p. 422. 20 TNA, FO 371/11976, Telegram: British Ministry, Santiago to Foreign Office, 7 May 1927. 21 TNA, FO 371/11977, Chile, 1927. Letters, Telegrams & Memoranda, May–July 1927. 22 Scott, J. D. (1962), Vickers: A History. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, pp. 182–3. 23 Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, p. 422. 24 CFRA, Archivo General Histórico, Volume 1146. Letter: Chilean Naval Mission, London to Minister for Foreign Affairs, Santiago, 26 January 1928. López, Carlos (1998), Chile: A Brief Naval History. Valparaiso: Imprenta de la Armada, p. 141. 25 TNA, FO 371/11977, Internal Foreign Office Memorandum, 13 May 1927. 26 Philip Somervell describes in detail the political isolation of the navy at the time. Somervell, Philip (1984), ‘Naval Affairs in Chilean Politics, 1910–1932’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 16, (2), 381–401, 382–5.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 222

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

223

   Frederick Nunn assesses the pivotal role played by Admiral Montt during the 1891 Revolution that resulted in his unopposed election as president the same year. Nunn, Frederick M. (1976), The Military in Chilean History: Essays on CivilMilitary Relations, 1810–1973. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, pp. 77–9. See also Collier, Simon and Sater, William F. (1996), A History of Chile, 1808–1994. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 154–5 and 188–90.   The term la República Chica was used by one of the members of the Royal Naval Mission to describe the culture created in Valparaiso by the influential Admiral Montt. See TNA, ADM 116/2459, British Naval Advisory Staff for Chilean Navy – books etc. required,1925–28. Report: ‘Naval Mission to Chile, 1926–28’ by Commander G. Garnons-Williams, RN. 27 Nunn, Frederick M. (1970), ‘A Latin American State within the State: The Politics of the Chilean Army, 1924–27’, The Americas, 27, (1), 40–55. 28 Somervell gives a different version of events. See, Somervell, ‘Naval Affairs in Chilean Politics’, 394.    A RN officer’s account of the visit of the Prince to South America and how he crossed the Andes in a snowstorm to reach Santiago is to be found in TNA, ADM 116/2263, Prince of Wales – Visit to South Africa and South America in REPULSE, 1924–25. 29 TNA, ADM 116/2294, British Naval Mission to Chile, 1925–1928. Report of Meeting between 2nd Sea Lord and Admiral Ward, Chilean Navy, 2 November 1925; FO 371/11122, Letter: British Minister, Santiago to Head of America Department, 1 December 1925. 30 Hansard, House of Commons Debates, 11 March 1926. Vol. 192, cc2697–775. 31 TNA, ADM 116/2459, Report: ‘Naval Mission to Chile’.    Admiral Ward, in his discussions with the Second Sea Lord, listed the types of naval specialists required. None would rank higher than a Commander. See TNA, ADM 116/2294, Report of Meeting between 2nd Sea Lord and Admiral Ward. 32 TNA, ADM 116/2489, HMS Colombo – Cruise to South America, 1926–27. Letter of Proceedings from 29 September to 1 November 1926: ‘Consulate General, Valparaiso Reports’, Paragraph 27. 33 Details of the revolt among junior officers, their grievances and the subsequent resignations are given in TNA, FO 371/11978, Chile, 1927. Report: H.M. Consul, Valparaiso to British Minister, Santiago, 22 February 1927, and in the subsequent Annual Confidential Report. See, FO 371/12752, Chile, 1928. ‘Annual Report, 1927’, January 1928, Paragraphs 174–200. Sater, William F. (2003), ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, in Christopher M. Bell and Bruce A. Elleman (eds), Naval Mutinies of the Twentieth Century: An International Perspective. London: Frank Cass, p. 150. 34 TNA, FO 371/11977, Letters: British Ministry, Santiago to Foreign Office, ‘Report of Meeting with new Minister of Marine and Naval Attaché, 28 and 30 March 1930.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 223

04/12/2013 08:14

224 Notes 35 TNA, ADM 116/2459, Report: ‘Naval Mission to Chile’. 36 TNA, ADM 116/2655, British Naval Advisory Mission 1928–30. Letter: Head of Naval Advisory Mission to Admiralty, 13 December 1928. 37 Anon (1930), ‘Some Aspects of the Relations between the British and Chilean Navies’, The Naval Review, 18, (2), 316–22, 321. 38 Ibid., 322–3. 39 TNA ADM 116/2655, Extract from letter to DNI from Naval Attaché, Santiago, 30 January 1929 and Admiralty Internal Memorandum: Military Branch, 6 March 1929. 40 TNA, ADM 116/2294, Internal Memorandum: Admiralty to C-in-C Portsmouth ‘Re -Appointment of Advisory Staff ’, 6 November 1925. 41 Ibid., Letter: British Ministry, Santiago to Admiralty, 22 January 1929.    Details of the posts undertaken by these RN officers are to be found in The Navy List (London, HMSO, 1930, 1931, 1932 editions). 42 TNA, ADM 116/2294, Telegram: British Ministry Santiago to Admiralty, 3 May 1929. 43 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Memoranda, June–July 1929; Wells, Captain John, RN (1994), The Royal Navy: An Illustrated Social History, 1870–1982. Stroud: Sutton Publishing, pp. 61–2 and 131–4. 44 TNA, FO 371/13475, Chile, 1929. Annual Report, 1928, Paragraphs 8 and 9. 45 TNA, ADM 116/3061, Reinstitution of the South American Squadron, 1930–33. DoP Internal Minute, 26 June 1930; Letter: Admiralty to Foreign Office, May 1931.    It was decided, in the interests of economy, to dispense with the normal practice of providing the Commodore commanding with a personal barge, ‘though on general grounds it was considered most desirable’, as this facility would have carried an initial cost of £180 and an annual expenditure of £740. See TNA, ADM 167/83, Board of Admiralty Minutes, 1931. Paragraph 2 and 13, ‘Institution of a South American Division of the America and West Indies Squadron’. 46 Various writers quoted different figures for the extent of this pay cut. William Sater referred to a range: ‘… employees who earned more than $3,000 (pesos) per year (had their pay cut) by twelve to thirty per cent’. Sater, William F. (1980), ‘The Abortive Kronstadt: The Chilean Naval Mutiny of 1931’, The Hispanic American Historical Review, 60, (2), 239–68, 241. 47 Sater, ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, pp. 151–2. 48 Tromben, Carlos (2010), The Chilean Mutiny of 1931 unpublished PhD Thesis, Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, Centre of Maritime Historical Studies, University of Exeter, p. 12; Sater, ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, 151–2. 49 Tromben, The Chilean Mutiny of 1931, 13–14. 50 Somervell, ‘Naval Affairs in Chilean Politics’, 398; Sater, ‘The Abortive Kronstadt’, 239; Sater, ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, 145.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 224

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

225

51 Tromben, The Chilean Mutiny of 1931, pp. 265.    Opinion, both at the time and later, has speculated on the extent of communist infiltration among the Chilean lower ranks. This has in turn prompted suggestions that the Chilean Mutiny was linked with the mutiny aboard Royal Navy ships at Invergordon the same year. See Ereira, Alan (1981), The Invergordon Mutiny: A Narrative History of the Last Great Mutiny in the Royal Navy and How It Forced Britain off the Gold Standard in 1931. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, p. 55.    Frederick Nunn strongly repudiates the idea that the mutiny was communist inspired. See Nunn, The Military in Chilean History, pp. 202. 52 TNA, FO 371/15078, Chile, 1931. Report: British Naval Attaché to Foreign Office, ‘Mutiny in Chilean Navy, September 1931’, Paragraph 3. 53 Sater, ‘The Abortive Kronstadt’, 250; Tromben, The Chilean Mutiny of 1931, pp. 176–7. 54 Sater, ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, 145; TNA, FO 371/13475, Annual Report, 1929, Paragraphs 133–4.    See TNA, FO 371/15077, Chile, 1931. Confidential Report: British Ambassador, Santiago to Foreign Office, April 1931, Paragraph 5. 55 Sater, ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, 165. 56 TNA, FO 371/15078, Letter: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 17 October 1931; FO 371/15802, Chile, 1932. Letter: A. Gibbs & Sons Ltd. (Agents), London to Foreign Office, 27 October 1931 and Foreign Office Internal Memorandum, 9 November 1931. 57 Somervell, ‘Naval Affairs in Chilean Politics’, 401–2. 58 Tromben, The Chilean Mutiny of 1931, pp. 225. 59 TNA, FO 371/15078, Telegram: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 10 September 1931. 60 TNA, FO 371/15824, Chile, 1932. Letter: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 15 March 1932. 61 TNA, FO 371/15081, Chile, 1931. Annual Report, March 30 1931. Paragraphs 110–20. 62 The two officers concerned had a percentage of their salaries withheld in Chile. Repeated personal attempts to have the monies converted to sterling proved fruitless and they were forced to write to the Foreign Office in order to elicit support.    In 1931 there were 11 members of the Chilean mission identified in The Navy List, the next year three and only one in 1933. The Navy List, 1931, 1932 and 1933 editions. 63 TNA, FO 371/15081, Letter: British Embassy Santiago to Chilean Minister for Foreign Affairs, 12 December 1932. 64 Ibid., Letter: British Ambassador, Chile to Sir John Simon, Foreign Office, 24 April 1932.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 225

04/12/2013 08:14

226 Notes    A military-backed coup in June overthrew President Montero and installed a junta headed by Carlos Dávila. The complex series of events, including the parts played by the army and navy over the following six months or so, are described by Nunn, The Military in Chilean History, 212–17. 65 The distances involved were considerable. At the time the request was made, the two South America Division cruisers were at Bermuda some 4,250 miles from Valparaiso. It would take a cruiser, travelling at the ‘economical’ speed of 10 knots, some 18 days to reach the Chilean port. Proceeding ‘with despatch’ at 20 knots would halve the time, of course, but would require refuelling en route, thus adding considerably to the cost. See TNA, FO 371/15081, Foreign Office Memoranda, 9 June 1932. 66 TNA, ADM 116/3061, Letter: Permanent Under Secretary, Foreign Office to First Lord of Admiralty, 24 June 1932. 67 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Minutes and Correspondence, July/August 1932. 68 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Minute, Head of Military Branch, 25 July 1925. 69 TNA, ADM 116/2866, South American Division of America and West Indies Station – Report of Proceedings, 1931–33. Commodore South American Division Letter of Proceedings No. 2, Paragraph 9. 70 TNA, ADM 116/3061, Letter: C-in-C America and West Indies Station to DCNS, Admiralty, 1 April 1933. 71 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Minute, Head of M Branch, 1 May 1933.    In this respect, Captain Phillips was ahead of his time. Discussions about the psychological effect of a warship’s presence on events ashore were not analysed in print for another 40 years. 72 CFRA, Volume 1146, Letter: Head of Naval Mission, London to Minister for Foreign Affairs, Santiago, 2 August 1928. 73 TNA, ADM 116/3251, British Naval Mission to China and the future policy of Naval Missions to foreign countries, 1933–35. Internal minute: ‘Termination of British Naval Mission to Chile’, April 1933.    Christopher Bell, who somewhat misleadingly uses this comment as representative of the Admiralty view on the matter, identifies the high prices charged by British shipbuilders as the sole reason for the apparent lack of success with export orders. See Bell, Christopher M. (2000), The Royal Navy, Seapower and Strategy between the Wars. California: Stanford University Press, p. 156. 74 Altham, Captain E., RN (1934), ‘Foreign Navies’, in Cdr. C. N. Robinson, RN and H. M. Ross (eds), Brassey’s Naval & Shipping Annual, 1934. London: William Clowes, p. 48. 75 TNA, ADM 116/3251, Termination of British Naval Mission to Chile, Admiralty Internal Minute: The General Situation, Paragraph 2, 10 April 1933.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 226

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

227

76 Rodger, N. A. M. (2001), ‘Training or Education: A Naval Dilemma over Three Centuries’, in Peter Hore (ed.), Hudson Papers, Volume I. London: Royal Navy Defence Studies, p. 23. 77 TNA, ADM 116/3251, Termination of British Naval Mission to Chile, Admiralty Internal Minute: The General Situation, Paragraphs 6 and 10, April 1933. 78 National Archives and Records Administration, Washington (NARA), RG 59, Box 429. Naval Attaché Report, 1930, ‘The British Naval Mission’ and Letter: Department of Naval Intelligence to The Secretary of State, 4 September 1930. 79 TNA, ADM 116/2866, Commodore South American Division, Letter of Proceedings No. 2, Paragraph 4. 80 Miller, Rory (1993), Britain and Latin America in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries. London: Longman, p. 202. 81 John Ferris, in arguing against the notion that British sea power declined during the 1920s, claims that the RN still enjoyed maritime supremacy during the decade. See Ferris, John (1996), ‘The Last Decade of British Maritime Supremacy, 1919–1929’, in Keith Neilson and Greg Kennedy (eds), Far Flung Lines: Studies in Imperial Defence in Honour of Donald Mackenzie Schurman. London: Frank Cass, pp. 124–69.

Chapter Four   1 The National Archives (TNA), FO 608/173/22, Argentina: Naval Programme, 1919.   2 Montenegro, Guillermo J. (2002), ‘An Argentine Naval Build-Up in the Disarmament Era: The Naval Procurement Act of 1926‘, in Antony Preston (ed.), Warship 2002–2003. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 117–18.   3 Argentine concerns and sense of naval ‘inferiority’ centred on the modernized state of the Brazilian battleships, the introduction of a US naval mission in Rio de Janeiro and the commissioning of the Chilean battleship Almirante Latorre.   4 Montenegro, ‘An Argentine Naval Build-Up’, p. 121; Chesneau, Roger (ed.) (1980), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1922–1946. London: Conway Maritime Press, p. 419.   5 TNA, ADM 1/8694/9, Cruisers for Argentine Government, 1926; ADM 1/8696/58, Argentine Naval Commission request regarding design for flotilla leaders, 1926.    The impact of the loss of the Argentine cruiser order for the Greenock firm Scotts must have been considerable. In 1926 the firm posted losses of £101,712 and was to continue to report a trading loss before depreciation and interest for a further eight years. See Johnman, Lewis and Murphy, Hugh (2005), Scott Lithgow: Déjà Vu All over again: The Rise and Fall of a Shipbuilding Company. Newfoundland: St. John’s, p. 17.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 227

04/12/2013 08:14

228 Notes   6 Typical of the plight faced by several British shipbuilding companies at the time, the order for three destroyer flotilla leaders for the Argentine Navy was the first naval order of any kind obtained by J. S. White since the end of World War One. See Williams, David L. and De Kerbrech, Richard P. (2012), J. Samuel White & Co. Shipbuilders. Stroud: The History Press, p. 96.   7 Freedman, Sir Lawrence (2005), The Official History of the Falklands Campaign, Volume I: The Origins of the Falklands War. London: Routledge, p. 13; TNA, ADM 116/2465, Falkland Islands & Dependencies – claims by Argentina, 1925–6. Memorandum by DNI, 25 May 1927.    The contradictory nature of Anglo-Argentine relations at the time can be highlighted by the 21-gun salute accorded the warship bearing the Prince of Wales on his visit to Buenos Aires in August 1925, personally ordered by President Alvear. See Dodds, Klaus (2002), Pink Ice: Britain and the South Atlantic Empire. London: I. B. Tauris, p. 39.   8 TNA, ADM 116/2465, Falkland Islands & Dependencies, 1927–28, Telegram: Foreign Office to Ambassador Buenos Aires, 14 December 1927; Letter: Ambassador, Buenos Aires to Foreign Office, 30 July 1928.  9 Ibid., Letter: British Ambassador, Buenos Aires to Foreign Office, 19 December 1927; Freedman, The Official History of the Falklands Campaign, Volume 1, p. 13. 10 See TNA, FO 118/640, Falkland Islands: Argentine Claim, 1931; FO 118/653, Falkland Islands: Argentinean Claim, 1934. 11 TNA, FO 118/673, Argentine Claim to Falkland Islands, 1937. Confidential Paper: ‘Falkland Islands and Dependencies’, 12 January 1937. 12 TNA, CAB 9/116/15, Falkland Islands Defence Scheme, 1912; ADM 116/3836, Defence of Falkland Islands, 1931–39. 13 National Maritime Museum (NMM), TAI/6, Tait, Admiral Sir William Campbell; Papers in Foreign Warships and Naval Personnel – Argentine Navy, Brazilian Navy describing both general and individual officers. ‘Remarks on Officers and Men of the Argentine Navy’, 15 May 1930. 14 Montenegro, ‘An Argentine Naval Build-Up’, p. 118; NMM, TAI/6 Tait, Paragraphs 10 and 11. 15 NMM, TAI/6 Tait, ibid., Paragraph 11.    Captain Tait’s fairly lengthy report describes a generally lazy, complacent and self-seeking officer corps in command of a docile cadre of ratings. He ends his report with the caustic and damning statement: ‘The Argentine Navy is not a fighting force at all, it is merely a state of mind.’ 16 Scheina, Robert L. (1987), Latin America: A Naval History, 1810–1987. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, p. 143; Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1922–1946, p. 420.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 228

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

229

17 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 143. 18 Meneses, Emilio C. (1991), ‘Maintaining a Regional Navy with Very Limited Resources: The Chilean Case: 1900–1990’, Defense and Security Analysis, 7, (4), 345–62, 348.    For details of the strength of the Chilean Navy during this period see National Archives and Record Administration (NARA),Washington, RG 38, Box 893, Navy Department, Office of Naval Intelligence, Naval Attaché Reports. Revision of Chilean Monograph: Chile Navy – 901 Fleet, 4 June 1934.    TNA, FO 371/18669, Chile, 1935. Annual Report, Paragraphs 5 and 36, 1 January 1935. 19 TNA, FO 371/10611, Chile, 1925. Telegrams, British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 25 and 26 August 1925. 20 See, Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1922–1946, pp. 419–24. 21 TNA, FO 371/20620, Chile, 1937. Annual Report, Paragraph 79, 1 January 1937. 22 TNA, ADM 116/3920, Cruisers for Chile: enquiries and proposals, 1936–1938. Report: Commodore, South America Division to C-in-C America and West Indies Station. Enclosure No.2, ‘Conversation on 9 October 1937’. 23 Ibid., Letter: Naval Attaché South America to Foreign Secretary, 7 September 1937; Meneses, ‘Maintaining a Regional Navy with Very Limited Resources’, pp. 348–9. 24 Ibid., Letter: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Secretary, 21 October 1937. 25 TNA, FO 371/21435, Cruiser for Chile, 1938. Letter and accompanying memorandum: British Ambassador, Santiago to Foreign Office, 29 December 1937. 26 David French provides a summary of the political situation at the time of the London Naval Conference, when Britain was not only re-arming but also taking a leading role in promoting arms limitation. See French, David (1990), The British Way of Warfare, 1688–2000. London: Unwin Hyman, pp. 188–92. 27 Anon (1936), ‘The London Naval Treaty, 1936’, in Cdr Charles N. Robinson, RN (ed.), Brassey’s Naval Annual, 1936. London: William Clowes, pp. 364–71. 28 See Thursfield, H. G. (1936), ‘The London Naval Treaty’, The Naval Review, 24, (2), 259–77, 268. 29 TNA, FO 371/21435, Internal Memoranda & Telegram, FO to Embassy, Santiago, 17 January 1938. 30 Ibid., Internal Memoranda, 1 February1938; Memorandum: Department of Overseas Trade, 15 February 1938. 31 Ibid., Letter: Admiralty to Foreign Office, 28 February 1938; Draft FO letter to Admiralty, 5 March 1938. 32 TNA, FO 371/21436, Cruiser for Chile, 1938. Internal Memorandum, 8 April 1938; Memorandum: Foreign Office to Ambassador to Italy, 12 April 1938. 33 TNA, FO 371/21436, Letter: British Ambassador, Santiago to British South America Naval Attaché, Buenos Aires, 31 March 1938, and note to Head of

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 229

04/12/2013 08:14

230 Notes American Department, Foreign Office, accompanying copy of above letter, same date; Letter: Head of American Department, Foreign Office to British Ambassador, Santiago, 6 May 1938. 34 Roskill, Stephen (1976), Naval Policy Between the Wars, Volume II: The Period of Reluctant Rearmament 1930–1939. London: Collins, p. 319. 35 TNA, FO 371/21436, Internal Memoranda, 25 April, 4 May and 20 May 1938. 36 TNA, ADM116/3920, Letter: Foreign Office to Admiralty Military Branch, 15 September 1938. 37 TNA, FO 371/21436, Letter: British Ambassador, Santiago to Foreign Secretary, 2 November 1938.    Cavendish-Bentinck and senior Chilean naval officers failed to recognize the terms of the Anglo-German Naval Treaty (1937) which prevented not only the ships themselves but also the armament from being built, even by proxy in a third country. More importantly, they ignored the significance of this attempt at international appeasement. When this matter was tested for a second time in November 1938, involving the firm Krupp building the armament for the Chilean cruisers, the German Ambassador in London told the FO that, although his government could not agree that it contravened the text of the agreement, his country was prepared to abide by the ‘spirit’ of the Treaty. See TNA, FO 371/21436, Foreign Office Internal Memorandum, 9 November 1938. 38 TNA, ADM 116/3920, Memorandum: ‘Account of interview with Rear Admiral Vicente Merino, Commander-in-Chief of Chilean Fleet by Commodore, South America Division, with reference to a British Naval Mission and other allied questions’, 17 October 1937. 39 Ibid., Memorandum: ‘Account of interview with Rear Admiral Vicente Merino’. 40 TNA, ADM 1/8762/254, Policy regarding visits by Naval Attachés to foreign warships at sea. Decision to train foreign officers in the Navy in instructional establishments, not in seagoing fleets and squadrons, 1932. Admiralty Board Minute No. 3004: ‘Training of Foreign Officers’; ADM 1/9167, Training of foreign naval officers in the Royal Navy, 1937–1938. 41 Roskill, Naval Policy Between the Wars, Volume II, p. 320. 42 TNA, ADM 116/3921, Cruisers for Chile and Turkey, 1937–1939. Admiralty Internal Minutes: 9, 20 August, 1 September 1937. 43 Ibid., Admiralty Internal Minute: Controller, 13 March 1937. 44 Ibid., Letters: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 4 April and 20 October 1939. 45 NARA, Washington, RG 38, Box 1152, Department of the Navy, Office of Naval Intelligence. Naval Attaché Report: ‘Purchase of two new cruisers by Chilean Government’, 9 September 1937. 46 Ibid., Naval Attaché Report: ‘Visit of new Commander-in-Chief of Chilean Navy’, 17 October 1938.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 230

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

231

47 Ibid., Naval Attaché Reports, 21 and 28 October 1939.    Both the Northampton Class and New Orleans Class cruisers were equipped with the 8-inch gun armaments that the Chilean Navy so desired. The Northampton Class were completed in the period 1930–1; the considerably more up-to-date New Orleans Class ships commissioned between 1934 and 1937. See Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, pp. 114–15. 48 Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS), Foreign Relations Volume 1, 1924. Telegram: The Chargé, Brazil to The Secretary of State, 6 June 1924; Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 135. 49 FRUS, Foreign Relations Volume 1, 1924, Telegrams: The Secretary of State to The Chargé, Brazil, 11, 15 and 26 June 1924. 50 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, pp. 135–7; FRUS, Foreign Relations Volume 1, 1930. ‘Termination of contract for American Naval Mission to Brazil, signed July 6, 1926’. Various telegrams between Washington and Rio de Janeiro, October to December 1930. 51 NMM, TAI/6, Tait, Part 1 Brazilian and Part 2 American Officers of the US Mission to Brazil, 26 July 1930. 52 FRUS, Foreign Relations Volume 1, 1924, Telegram: The Secretary of State to The Chargé, Brazil, 9 December 1924; The Chargé, Brazil to The Secretary of State, 10 December 1924. 53 FRUS, Foreign Relations Volume 9, 1936. Telegram: Acting Secretary of State to the Ambassador in Argentina, 19 March 1936; Letter: President Roosevelt to President Vargas, 6 July 1936. 54 Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, pp. 40 and 416–17. 55 FRUS, Volume 5, 1937. Letter: The Secretary of State to Senator Key Pittman, ‘Proposal by the United States to Lease Destroyers to the American Republics for Training Purposes’, 5 August 1937. 56 NARA,Washington, RG 38, Box 1152, ‘Rental of overage destroyers to South American Republics’, 13 August 1937. 57 Chesneau, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–46, p. 29. 58 In 1930 the Columbian Government ordered three river gunboats to be built by Yarrow. Colombia was engaged in a border dispute with Peru at the time.

Chapter Five   1 Bowers, Claude G. (1958), Chile Through Embassy Windows: 1939–1953. New York: Simon & Schuster, p. 356.   2 The National Archives (TNA), FO 463/8, Further Correspondence respecting Antarctica: Part 8 (1956).

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 231

04/12/2013 08:14

232 Notes   3 Eric Grove describes the decision-making in the 1946–7 period leading up to what he calls ‘some of the most savage cuts’ imposed on the post-war Royal Navy. Grove, Eric J. (1987), Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War Two. London: The Bodley Head, pp. 30–8.    The controversy surrounding these cuts came to a head in October 1947. The Minister of Defence had endured a persistent and clever attack by Winston Churchill in the House of Commons over the current strength of the Royal Navy’s Home Fleet. Churchill had seized on the fact that it had been reported by the BBC that the Home Fleet’s active strength had been reduced to one cruiser and four destroyers. Hansard, House of Commons Debates, Vol. 443, Paragraphs 245–51, ‘Royal Navy (Strength)’, 23 October 1947.   4 Dockrill, Saki (2002), Britain’s Retreat from East of Suez: The Choice between Europe and the World? Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, p. 8.    Both Eric Grove and J. R. Hill agree that the Royal Navy also performed successfully during the 1939–45 war. See Grove, E. J. (1995) ‘A Service Vindicated 1939–46’, in J. R. Hill (ed.), The Oxford Illustrated History of the Royal Navy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 349; and Hill, J. R. (1995), ‘The Realities of Medium Power, 1946 to the Present’, in ibid., p. 381.   5 Edgerton, David (2012), Britain’s War Machine: Weapons, Resources and Experts in the Second World War. London: Penguin Books, p. 257.   6 The National Archives (TNA), FO 371/44918, United States Naval Mission to Chile: proposed despatch to Chile of a British naval mission, 1945. Letter: British Ambassador to the United States of America to the Foreign Secretary, 20 December 1944.  7 Ibid., Foreign Office Internal Minutes, 14 January 1945; Letter & Enclosure: Admiralty to Foreign Office, 14 January 1945.  8 Ibid., Telegram, Letter & Enclosure: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 3 February 1945.   9 TNA, FO 371/38035, Chilean Naval War College: request for instructor, 1944. FO Internal Minutes, 7 October 1944; Telegram: Assistant Naval Attaché, Santiago to Admiralty, 3 October 1944. 10 TNA, PREM 8/766, Trade in Armaments with Latin America: Argentine orders for naval vessels and aircraft from British firms, 1947–1948.    The US concerns are expressed in a series of Foreign Relations memoranda. Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS), Volume 8, 1947. Policy of the United States to the Provision of Arms to Argentina, 1947. 11 Some of the anti-British correspondence received by President Truman from both US politicians and ordinary American citizens are to be found in the Truman Presidential Library (TPL), White House Central Files – Official Files, Boxes 291 and 292. See also Dockrill, M. (1989), British Defence Since 1945. Oxford: Blackwell, p. 21.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 232

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

233

12 TNA, PREM 8/766, Trade in Armaments with Latin America, Economic Policy Meeting, April 1948. ‘Sale of Arms to South American Countries.’ 13 TNA, DEFE 7/633, Arms for Export: production policy, 1949. 14 TNA, CAB 129/16, Defence Estimates, 1947–48; CAB 129/32, Defence Estimates,1949–50.    In 1948, the Joint Intelligence Committee forecast that the Soviet Union would not be in a position militarily to fight a major war before 1957. Thus 1957 became ‘the year of maximum danger’ and for some time rearmament programmes were planned accordingly. See Friedman, Norman (2005), ‘Electronics and the Royal Navy’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London: Frank Cass, p. 248; Grove, Vanguard to Trident, pp. 39–40. 15 Greenwood, David (1976), ‘Constraints and Choices in the Transformation of Britain’s Defence Effort since 1945’, British Journal of International Studies, 2 (1), 5–26, 9–10; Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy, pp. 249–51. 16 TNA, PREM 11/109, Export of arms and equipment to New Zealand, South Africa, Burma, Denmark, Norway, Egypt, Siam, South America, Australia: competition and terms of reference of the Arms Working Party, 1951–52. Ministry of Defence Paper: ‘Present Policy’, Paragraph 2, 7 December 1951. 17 TNA, T225/271, Overseas customers for arms and equipment: strategic, economic and political priorities, 1952–54. Ministry of Defence Arms Export Committee. ‘Publicity for Priorities for Export of Arms’, 6 November 1952. The scale of economic priorities was shorter (A–C) and arguably more discerning. However, it was decided that the political measure should override these criteria. 18 Ibid. 19 TNA, PREM 11/109, Export of arms and equipment; T225/271, Overseas Customers for arms and equipment: strategic, economic and political priorities, 1952–54. 20 TNA, ADM 1/18038, Foreign Countries (52), Venezuelan Celebrations at Cumaná: Attendance of HMS Corsair and Venezuelan expressions of appreciation,1945; ADM 1/21140, Contracts (25), Ships for Venezuela Government,1946–49; FO 371/81813, Sale by Vickers Armstrong Ltd. of two destroyers to Venezuela, 1950. 21 TNA, FO371/97674, British offer to supply naval vessels to Venezuela, 1952. 22 TNA, ADM1/23976, Sale of British warships to Brazilian Navy: reports on rival tenders, 1952–53; ADM1/25123, Construction of warships for Brazil: request from shipbuilders for financial backing, 1953. 23 TNA, ADM116/6065, Scrapping of HMS Formidable and Brazilian requirement for warships, 1952–56; ADM1/26497, Proposal to sell HMS Vengeance to Brazil – memo by First Lord,1956–57. 24 TNA ADM1/24825, Sale of HM ships Quantock and Meynell to Ecuador, 1953–54. 25 TNA, FO 371/52008, Supply of naval vessels and armaments to Chile: Chilean trade with the United Kingdom and other countries: Anglo Chilean commercial agreement, 1946.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 233

04/12/2013 08:14

234 Notes 26 TNA, ADM 1/19348, Foreign Countries (52): Proposed purchase of British corvettes and frigates by Chile, 1946.    The furore caused by the government’s initial decision to sell HMS Ajax to Chile, later rescinded, was fuelled by the Conservative Party opposition’s clever campaign to exploit public sentiment over the future of this celebrated and much-loved veteran of the Battle of the River Plate. See particularly FO 132/595, Sale of British Warships to Chile, (1949); ADM 1/21464, Foreign Countries (52): Cabinet decision to sell HMS Ajax to Chile,1948–49; FO 371/68210, Sale of HMS Ajax to Chile,1948; Hansard, House of Commons Debates, Vol. 435, Paragraph 226, 18 March 1947 and Debate: ‘Navy Estimates, 1947–48’, Vol. 448, Paragraph 803–981, 8 March 1949. 27 TNA, FO 371/103271, Purchase by Chile of destroyers from UK, 1953; FO 371/108875, Purchase of destroyers by Chile from UK, 1954. 28 Friedman, Norman (2006), British Destroyers & Frigates: The Second World War and After. London: Chatham Publishing, p. 126. 29 The dispute between Argentina, Britain and Chile centred on conflicting claims to Antarctic territories between approximately 80˚ W and 20˚ W. These include a portion of the Antarctic Peninsula and particularly the South Shetland Group, which flanks the strategically important Drake Passage to the south of Cape Horn. See Fox, Robert (1985), Antarctica and the South Atlantic: Discovery, Development and Dispute. London: BBC Publishing; Howkins, Adrian (2006), ‘Icy Relations: The Emergence of South American Antarctica during the Second World War’, Polar Record, 42, (221), 153–65; Dodds, Klaus (2002), Pink Ice: Britain and the South Atlantic Empire. London: I. B. Tauris; Beck, Peter J. (1990), ‘International Relations in Antarctica: Argentina, Chile and the Great Powers’, in Michael A. Morris (ed.), Great Power Relations in Argentina, Chile and Antarctica. Basingstoke: Macmillan, pp. 101–30. 30 Dodds, Klaus (1994), ‘Geopolitics in the Foreign Office: British Representations of Argentina, 1945–1961’, Transactions of British Geographers, New Series, 19, (4), 273–90, 277. 31 TNA, FO 371/24182, Chilean claims to territory in Antarctica, 1940. See also Howkins, ‘Icy Relations’, 153–65. 32 Gamba-Stonehouse, Virginia (1989), Strategy in the Southern Oceans: A South American View. London: Pinter Publishers, pp. 88–90. 33 The Foreign Office Confidential papers, in the series TNA, FO 463/2-FO 463/8, Further Correspondence respecting Antarctica,1948–56, provide a yearly account of these protests and the corresponding replies. 34 TNA, FO 371/103170, Renewal of Tripartite Naval Declarations by UK, Chile & Argentina; agreement to send no warships south of Lat. 60° during 1953–1954, 1953. This file includes a brief history of the annual declaration.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 234

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

235

   Jason Moore describes the tense ‘stand-off ’ in the Antarctic between no fewer than 12 warships from various nations in 1948 in Moore, Jason Kendall (2001), ‘Maritime Rivalry, Political Intervention and the Race to Antarctica: US-Chilean Relations, 1939–1949’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 33, (4), 713–38, 728–9. 35 The reasons why the annual signing of the declaration suited the British at the time are explained in TNA, FO 371/97382, Renewal of UK, Chilean & Argentine Tripartite Naval Declarations restricting naval activities in Antarctic waters, 1952. 36 TNA, CO 537/2719, HM Ships: Cruises of the Ships of America & West Indies Stations, 1948, gives an indication of the vast areas that needed to be covered by a numerically small squadron. 37 See TNA, FO 371/81337, Naval Attaché’s annual report on the Chilean Navy, 1950; FO 371/90434, Chilean Antarctic expedition to establish a third base,1951. 38 TNA, FO 371/68227, Antarctic Affairs: Argentine, Chile & other claims to territories, 1948. 39 TNA, CO1024/30, Activities of Argentina and Chile, 1951–52. 40 TNA, FO 371/74751, Movements of Argentine & Chilean Ships in the Antarctic, 1949. 41 Naturally, there are a large number of files covering the planning, execution and aftermath of this important operation. TNA, CO 1024/34, Activities of Argentina & Chile in Falkland Islands (including Deception Island), 1953, includes the ‘Report of Proceedings’ by the commanding officer of HMS Snipe, the frigate that transported the marines to Deception Island. This provides an account of the military action taken. PREM 11/330, Report on threat to Falkland Islands from Argentina and proposal to send British infantry, 1953, gives an insight into the planning at Cabinet level. There were demonstrations outside the British Embassy in Buenos Aires when details of the operation were leaked. 42 TNA, CO 1024/32, Activities of Argentina & Chile in the Falkland Island Dependencies, 1951–1953. 43 TNA, FO 463/5, Further correspondence respecting Antarctica: part 5, 1953. 44 See, for example, TNA, FO 371/90444, Protests against Argentinean & Chilean violation of British Antarctic territory,1951; CO 1024/40, Individual suggestions regarding Argentine-Chilean activities in the Falkland Island Dependencies,1953. 45 Olavarria used the particularly powerful Spanish word ‘demandado’ in calling for the rebuilding of the Chilean hut on Deception Island. See Chilean Foreign Relations Archive (CFRO), Volume 3516, Telegrams: Chilean Minister for Foreign Affairs to Chilean Embassy, London, 20 February 1953. 46 TNA, PREM 11/330, Report on threat to Falkland Islands from Argentina; Freedman, Sir Lawrence (2005), The Official History of the Falklands Campaign, Volume I: The Origins of the Falklands War. London: Routledge, p. 19. 47 See, TNA, DO 35/2879, US proposals for a form of International Trusteeship to administer the Antarctic,1948; FO 371/90435, Proposed Standstill Agreement &

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 235

04/12/2013 08:14

236 Notes international settlement of Antarctic disputes; Australian opposition to Chilean draft,1951; DO 35/7107, Chilean proposals for a standstill agreement in the Antarctic,1953–1954. 48 TNA, ADM 1/24810, Report of Proceedings. HMS Bigbury Bay: Oct-Nov during operations in British Guiana, 1953. ‘Report of Proceedings, 5 November 1953. 49 TNA, ADM 116/5978, British Guiana: Sugar strikes and social unrest, 1953. 50 TNA, DO 35/2877, Strategic importance of Antarctic Territories: report by UK Joint Planning Staff, 1947. 51 There was major international interest shown in the region in 1946 spurred on by a study that purported to demonstrate a similarity between rock formations in the Antarctic and in the Canadian tundra that had been found to contain uranium. In 1946 Britain became particularly wary about the true intentions of a private Antarctic expedition led by the American Finn Ronne. See CO 537/1870, Argentine & Chilean claims to the Falklands & Dependencies, 1946. 52 Dodds, Pink Ice, pp. 3–4.    Following the granting of independence to India and Pakistan in 1947, the FID was the largest remaining territorial space in the British Empire. See Dodds, Klaus (2005), ‘The Great Trek: New Zealand and the British/Commonwealth 1955–58 Trans-Antarctic Expedition’, The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 33, (1), 93–114, 97.    Some relevant Colonial Office documents remain closed some 60 years after the event. In the course of an unsuccessful Freedom of Information challenge in 2009 it was disclosed to the author that, because British relations with Argentina were poorer than at any stage since the Falklands War (1982), it was considered untimely to release the documents to public scrutiny. The most sensitive area is thought to concern assessments of the validity of British sovereignty claims. 53 TNA, ADM 116/6233, Re-organisation of America & West Indies Station & formation of Canada Naval Station, 1955–1959. A paper produced three years earlier had calculated the amount of money that might have been saved by closing the America & West Indies station. See ADM 1/24860, America & West Indies and East Indies Stations: estimates of savings accruing from withdrawal of naval forces, 1953. 54 Grove, Vanguard to Trident, pp. 99–107. 55 Bell, Christopher M. (2013), Churchill and Sea Power (2013). Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 309–14.    Saki Dockrill points to Churchill’s questioning of the ‘value of the Suez Canal base in the nuclear age’ as the beginning of the debate about Britain’s over-stretched world commitments which ended in Britain’s withdrawal from East of Suez two decades later. See Dockrill, Saki (2002), Britain’s Retreat from East of Suez: The Choice between Europe and the World? Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, p. 209.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 236

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

237

56 TNA, ADM1/26517, Enquiry from Argentina Naval Commission about purchase of major naval vessels, 1955–1957. 57 TNA ADM1/26496, Sale of light fleet carrier to Argentina, 1956; FO371/119889, Visits by ships of the Royal Navy to Argentina,1956. 58 TNA, ADM1/27019, Sale of light fleet carrier HMS Warrior to Argentina, 1958–63. Letter: Foreign Secretary to First Lord of the Admiralty, 30 June 1958. 59 TNA, ADM1/27450, Sale of HMS Newfoundland to Peru, 1959–62. 60 TNA, FO 371/126112, US attitude to sale of naval vessels to Latin America by UK, 1957. Foreign Office Internal Minutes, 15 & 31 May 1957. Letter: British Embassy, Washington to Foreign Secretary, 7 June 1957. 61 Ibid., Foreign Office Internal Paper: ‘Sale of Naval Vessels to Latin American Countries’, 11 June 1957.   The Minas Gerais was purchased for $9 million. The ship was extensively modernized in the Netherlands at a further cost of $27 million before commissioning in 1960. See Blackman, Raymond V. B. (ed.) (1961), Jane’s Fighting Ships 1961–62. London: Samson Low & Marston, p. 20. 62 TNA, FO 371/126112, ‘Sale of Naval Vessels to Latin American Countries’, 11 June 1957. 63 Ibid., Minutes: Strategic Exports (Official) Committee Meeting, 20 July 1957. 64 Ibid., Letter: Foreign Office to British Ambassador, Washington, 16 September 1957. 65 Ibid., Letter: Foreign Office to Board of Trade, 19 December 1957. 66 TNA, CO 1024/240, Sale of aircraft carrier to Argentina, 1957. Letter: British Embassy, Washington to Foreign Office, 27 December 1956. 67 TNA, FO 371/139263, Sale of naval vessels by UK to Peru, 1959. Foreign Office Internal Minute, 26 October. Letter: Foreign Office to British Embassy, Washington, 30 October. Telegram: British Embassy, Santiago to Foreign Office, 5 November 1959; Blackman, Jane’s Fighting Ships, p. 181. 68 TNA, FO 371/139265, Sale of naval vessels by UK to Peru, 1959. Letter: British Embassy, Washington to Foreign Office, 20 December 1959; Foreign Office Internal Minute: ‘Record of a meeting with Chilean Ambassador’, 15 December 1959. 69 Ibid., 17 December 1959. 70 TNA, DEFE 7/1600, Select Committee on Estimates: Promotion of Arms Sales, 1958–1960. Memorandum by the Foreign Office: ‘Policy in the Promotion of Arms Sales’, 7 March, 1961; TNA, PREM 11/4736, Prime Minister’s Office: Correspondence and Papers, 1951–1964. ‘Sale of British Military Equipment Abroad’, 16 February 1961. 71 TNA, FO 371/184610, Sale of HMS Centaur to either Chile or Argentina: opposition to sale, 1966. Letter: Defence Sales (N) to FO, General Department, ‘Future of the Aircraft Carrier CENTAUR’, 27 April 1966.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 237

04/12/2013 08:14

238 Notes 72 Ibid., Letter: Finance Division 3(N) to FO General Department, ‘Future of Aircraft Carrier CENTAUR’, 27 April 1966 and Aide Mémoire: ‘Meeting with Argentine Attaché, 9 May 1966, Paragraph 4; TNA, FO 371/84658, Defence Sales: minesweepers and the sale of HMS CENTAUR, 1966. Letter: Treasury to Finance Division 3(N), 9 March 1966. 73 Ibid., Letter: Foreign Office to Director of Defence Sales (N), 17 August 1966. Two years after the failure to acquire HMS Centaur, the Argentines purchased the aircraft carrier, HNlMS Karel Doorman from the Dutch Government. The former British vessel had been extensively rebuilt in a Dutch shipyard prior to the sale and therefore would have been markedly superior in capability to Centaur. See Chumbley, Stephen (ed.) (1995), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1947–1995. London: Conway Maritime Press, p. 6. 74 TNA, FCO 7/403, Sale of Naval Equipment, 1967–68. Letter: British Ambassador, Santiago to FO American Department, 30 December 1966. 75 TNA, FO 371/84658, Minutes of Meeting: Export Credit Guarantee Committee (Arms Sales), 19 August 1966; ECG 5/123, Committees and Reports: ECG (Arms Sales) Papers and Correspondence,1955–1967; T236/6429, Export Credit Guarantee Department cover for export of goods to Argentina: frigates for Argentine Navy, 1960–1962. 76 Grove, Vanguard to Trident, p. 261. 77 TNA, WO 32/16706, Sale of Arms and Equipment Abroad, 1956–61; T225/1342 Expansion of UK arms export trade: policy, 1958–59. 78 Slaven, Anthony (1983), ‘Management Policy and the Eclipse of British Shipbuilding’, in Fred M. Walker and Anthony Slaven (eds), European Shipbuilding: One Hundred Years of Change. Proceedings of the Third Shipbuilding History Conference, London: Marine Publications, p. 81.    The effect on British production for the overseas market of the shipbuilding ‘slump’ between 1958 and 1961 is illustrated by the fact that in 1956 the UK shipbuilding output for overseas registration amounted to 435,000 gross registered tons (grt.). In 1959, it had fallen to 115,000 grt. See Johnman, Lewis (1998), ‘Internationalisation and the Collapse of British Shipbuilding’, in David J. Starkey and Gelina Harlaftis (eds), Global Markets: The Internationalisation of the Sea Transport Industries since 1850. Newfoundland: International Maritime Economic History Association, p. 336. 79 Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy, p. 308. 80 TNA, WO 32/16706, ‘Export of Arms’. 81 Ibid., Strategic Exports (Official) Committee Meeting, 15 January 1959. ‘Memorandum on the Sale of Arms’.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 238

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

239

Chapter Six   1 Merrill, Dennis (1990), ‘Latin America’, in Richard S. Kirkendall (ed.), The Harry S Truman Encyclopaedia. Boston: G. K. Hall & Co., p. 210.   2 The underlying policy governing this programme was aimed at low-key regional arms balancing and limitation oriented towards support for internal stability and security. External defence considerations were downplayed with the exception of anti-submarine warfare. See Ronfeldt, David and Sereses, Caesar (1977), US Arms Transfers, Diplomacy, and Security in Latin America and Beyond, The Rand Corporation. Available online at http://www.rand.org/pubs/papers/P6005.html (accessed 16 September 2013).   3 The Truman Presidential Library (TPL), ‘B’ File: Containment in Latin America. Folder 1:5, ‘Standardization-of-Arms Program in the Western Hemisphere’, Central Intelligence Agency Report. Appendix, Paragraph 2, 30 June 1949.   4 Merrill, ‘Latin America’, p. 209.    Truman had the opportunity in July 1945 to witness at first hand the devastation in Europe caused by the war, when he attended the Potsdam Conference. Subsequently, it was clear that the rehabilitation of the continent would receive priority. In November of the same year, in reply to a senator critical of British post-war defence policy, Truman was at pains to express his gratitude to the UK for ‘holding the line while we got ready’, for making huge sacrifices and for suffering great damage and loss. See TPL, Box 290, White House Central Files: Official File, 6 November 1945.  5 TPL, ‘B’ File: Containment in Latin America’. Folder 2:2, ‘Confidential Memorandum on Latin America’, unattributed and undated, circa late 1946.   TPL, ‘B’ File: Containment in Latin America’. Folder 2:6, Memorandum: ‘The Latin American Situation’, by John C. Wiley, 8 November 1945.   6 TPL, ‘B’ File, Central Intelligence Agency: Conditions and Trends in Latin America Affecting US Security, 12 December 1952, p. 1.   7 The history of the negotiations which led to the Rio agreement is described in TPL, ‘B’ File, Manuel Canyes, ‘The Meetings of Consultation: Their Origin, Significance and Role in Inter-American Relations’, Washington, DC, March 1951.  8 TPL, Department of State, Washington, Report: ‘United States objectives, policies, and courses of action with respect to Latin America’, December 1952. Paragraphs 11–14.   9 ‘Other Americas Can Arm a Million’, The New York Times, 20 November 1938. 10 TPL, ‘B’ File, ‘United States objectives, policies, and courses of action with respect to Latin America’, Paragraph 27. 11 Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS), Foreign Relations 1952–54 Vol. 4, United States Policy regarding Hemisphere Defense; provision of armaments and

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 239

04/12/2013 08:14

240 Notes military assistance to the other American Republics. Memorandum: The Secretary of State to Certain Diplomatic Offices in the American Republics, 22 July 1952. 12 Ibid., Memorandum: The Secretary of State to Certain Diplomatic Offices in the American Republics, 22 July 1952. 13 National Archives and Records Administration, Washington (NARA), Record Group (RG) 59, Box 21, Department of the Navy, Office of Information. Press Releases: ‘Invitation sent to Latin American Officials to visit United States’, 2 April 1941 and ‘Chilean Aviators complete training course In United States’, 5 July 1943. 14 Tromben, Captain Carlos (2006), ‘Contributions of US Naval Educational Centers to the Development of the Chilean Navy in Relation to Naval Operations and Industry’, International Journal of Naval History, 5 (2), 2–15. 15 Ibid., p. 5. 16 United States advisers were assigned to the Argentine Naval School at the time by individual agreement with the Argentine Government, so, despite not having a mission as such, they still afforded some influence in naval training matters. 17 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1952–54 Vol. 4, General Policy towards Latin America: ‘Third Progress Report on NSC 144/1, United States Objectives and Courses of Action with respect to Latin America’, 25 May 1954.    Brazil was by far the largest beneficiary, with $78 million dollars of aid. However, this included $52.6 million for lend-lease ships the title to which was transferred to Brazil. 18 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1952–54 Vol. 4, General Policy towards Latin America: ‘Second Progress Report on NSC 144/1, United States Objectives and Courses of Action with respect to Latin America’, 20 November 1953. 19 Scheina, Robert L. (1987), Latin America: A Naval History 1810–1987. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, p. 177. 20 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1950, Vol. 1, Western Hemisphere Defense. Letter: The Secretary of Defense (Johnson) to the Secretary of State, 12 September 1950.    The recipients, in addition to the three mentioned above, were Colombia, Peru, Venezuela and Uruguay. 21 TPL, ‘B’ File: Containment in Latin America. Folder 1:4. ‘United States Policy toward Inter-American Military Collaboration’, Paragraph 8, 18 May 1950. 22 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1950 Vol. 1, Letter: The Secretary of Defense to the Secretary of State, footnote 2, 12 September 1950. 23 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 173. 24 Ibid., p. 369. 25 TPL, Box 150 – Chile 1 & 2. Letter: Bowers to Secretary of State (for the attention of President Truman), 29 August 1950. 26 The destroyer escorts offered to a number of South American states in 1950 were over 10 knots slower than cruisers.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 240

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

241

27 According to Robert Scheina, the exact definition of the word ‘UNITAS’ is unclear; the US Navy had stated that it was of Latin origin meaning ‘Unity’, another theory was that it constituted a rather untidy acronym for ‘United States Anti-Submarine Warfare Exercises’. See, Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 175. 28 TPL, ‘B’ File: Folder 1:4, Paragraph 9. 29 Vinock, Captain Eli, USN (1984), ‘UNITAS: A South American Perennial’, United States Naval Institute Proceedings, 10 (7), 124–6, 124. 30 See Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 175, and Smith, Karen, Kim, Stephen, Roth, Patrick et al. (2002), ‘Is NAVSO Organized and Staffed to do Its Job?’, Center for Naval Analysis, 60–9, 64. 31 Vinock, ‘UNITAS’, 124. 32 ‘The Americas: watching for Sea Goblins’, Time Magazine, 2 January 1961. 33 Middendorff II, J. William (1983), ‘The USN’s Latin American Partners’, in Captain John Moore, RN (ed.), Jane’s Naval Review, London: Jane’s, pp. 34–5. 34 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 175. 35 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1950 Vol. 1, Western Hemisphere Defense: memorandum by the Assistant Secretary of Defense (Miller) to the Secretary of State, 7 August 1950, Paragraph 15. 36 Hurrell, Andrew (1983), ‘The Politics of South Atlantic Security: A Survey of Proposals for a South Atlantic Treaty Organization’, International Affairs, 59 (2), 179–93, 188; Jarpa, Rear-Admiral Sergio G. (1990), ‘The Defense of Shipping off South America’, Naval War College Review, 43 (3), 62–76, 65. 37 Porcile, Gabril (1995), The Challenge of Cooperation: Argentina and Brazil, 1939–1955’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 27 (1), 129–59, 140–1; Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, pp. 153–61. 38 Hilton, Stanley E. (1982), ‘The Armed Forces and Industrialists in Modern Brazil: The Drive for Military Autonomy (1889–1954)’, The Hispanic American Historical Review, 62 (4), 629–73, 650. 39 Rather than being considered ‘a special case’, Hilton asserts that some members of the Brazilian Government were convinced that Washington was ‘inclined to treat Brazil as a small brother rather than an important nation pledged to full military cooperation’, ibid., 664; Porcile, ‘The Challenge of Cooperation’, 142. 40 FRUS, Foreign Relations, The American Republics, Volume 9, 1945. Brazil: Discussions regarding Military and Naval Cooperation between the United States and Brazil. Letter: The Ambassador to Brazil (Berle) to the Secretary of State, 26 July 1945, Paragraphs 2 and 3. 41 Ibid., Paragraph 4. 42 Stanley Hilton, quoting Brazilian Government records, alleges that it took a direct complaint to President Truman to close the contract for the cruisers and that, owing to pressure on US ship-repair yards caused by the Korean War, the ships

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 241

04/12/2013 08:14

242 Notes cost more and their final delivery dates were delayed. Hilton, ‘The Armed Forces and Industrialists in Modern Brazil’, 665. 43 FRUS, The American Republics, Volume 4. Memorandum by the Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs (Holland) to the Deputy Under Secretary of State (Murphy): United States Military Relations with Brazil, 12 July 1954. 44 Ibid., ‘Brazil’s Request for Naval Vessels’, p. 656. 45 Ibid., Memorandum from the Officer in Charge of Brazilian Affairs (Siracusa) to the Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs (Rubottom): Aircraft Carrier Equipment, pp. 672–4.    As a further concession, the US showed its willingness to pay the rehabilitation (British term: refit) costs for two Fletcher Class destroyers it was selling to Brazil as part of the MDAP scheme. The extreme sensitivity of this matter, which directly affected US diplomatic relations with individual South American countries, has meant that certain sections of the relevant memorandum have not been released for public scrutiny more than 50 years after the event. 46 Chumbley, Stephen (ed.) (1995), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1947–1995. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 32 and 34. 47 FRUS, The American Republics, Volume 4, National Intelligence Estimate. Memorandum: Probable Developments in Venezuela, 31 July 1952, Paragraphs 28–30. 48 Aram, Bethany (1992), ‘Exporting Rhetoric Importing Oil: United States Relations with Venezuela, 1945–1948’, World Affairs, 154 (3), 94–106, 94.    Miguel Salas presents a different perspective on the way in which the oil companies were prepared to adapt rather than confront the AD. See Salas, Miguel Tinker (2005), ‘Staying the Course: United States Oil Companies in Venezuela, 1945–58’, Latin American Perspectives, 32 (2), 147–70. 49 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, pp. 217–23. The Venezuelan Navy was set to continue to grow. Writing in 1987, Michael Morris claimed that ‘Venezuela has, in the last decade, developed the largest and most modern navy in the Caribbean basin and this has formed part of its overall growth as a regional power’; Morris, Michael A. (1987), Expansion of Third-World Navies. Basingstoke: Macmillan, p. 193. 50 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1950, Volume 1, Western Defense. Memorandum: Mr. John E. Black of the Office and British Commonwealth and Northern European Affairs to the Officer in Charge, United Kingdom and Ireland Affairs (Jackson), 20 July 1950.    Although not acknowledged here, negotiations between the British and Venezuelans had been underway since 1946 for the purchase of second-hand or new naval vessels (see Chapter 5). 51 FRUS, Foreign Relations, 1952–1954, Volume 4, Venezuela: Letter: The Ambassador in Venezuela (Warren) to the Department of State, 11 May 1953.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 242

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

243

   The Venezuelan Navy’s ‘Five Year Plan’ entailed the purchase of one light cruiser, three destroyers, six ‘light’ destroyers, three submarines, two minesweepers and one troop transport. 52 The submarine construction plan is discussed in The National Archives (TNA), ADM 116/6018, Naval Arms Export Committee: Minutes and Papers, 1954–1955.    The enquiry about having an aircraft carrier and cruisers built in the UK is to be found in FO 371/126112, US Attitude to sale of naval vessels to Latin America by UK, 1957. Letter: Foreign Office to Board of Trade, 19 December 1957. 53 Chumbley, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1947–1995, p. 637. 54 NARA, Washington, RG 59, Box 2, Briefing Paper: For Joint Chiefs of Staff Meeting: ‘British Sale of Naval Vessels to Latin American Countries’. 1 July 1960. 55 Meneses, Emilio C. (1991), ‘Maintaining a Regional Navy with Very Limited Resources, 1900–1990’, Defense Analysis, 7 (4), 345–62, 350. 56 Ibid., 350. 57 Chilean Foreign Relations Archive (CFRA), Archivo General Histórico, Volume 2439. Memorandum: ‘Adquisiciones para la marina de Chile’, 11 January 1945. The list of naval vessels required, which were described as ‘indispensable’ in the memorandum, included three heavy cruisers, an escort aircraft carrier, nine destroyers and six submarines. Such demands were totally unrealistic in terms of the amount Chile could afford to spend on defence, but they reflected the neglect of the service over a number of years. 58 TPL, Foreign Affairs File 1940–1953, Box 150 – Chile 1 & 2. ‘Notes on Chilean Visit’, November 1946. 59 FRUS, Foreign Relations 1951, Volume 2. Policy Statement prepared in the Department of State, ‘Chile’, Sections: a. Objectives and b. Policies, 27 February 1951. 60 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 176. 61 Tromben, ‘Contributions of US Naval Educational Centers’, 6–7. 62 TNA, FO 371/139158, Navy of Chile, 1959. Unfortunately, the naval attaché reports for the period 1951–57 have not been found. These might have provided a more comprehensive coverage of the decline in RN influence in relation to the United States during these years. 63 Ibid., ‘Annual Report for 1958 on the Chilean Navy’, Paragraph 13. 64 In 1956, recent Latin American acquisitions of non-US naval ships included: Brazil – two Japanese transports; Chile – two British destroyers; Columbia – two Swedish destroyers; Ecuador – two British destroyers; Peru – four British gunboats; Venezuela – three British destroyers, six Italian destroyers, twelve patrol boats and one transport from France. See NARA, Washington, RG 59, Box 2, Defense Affairs 1964. Memorandum: ‘Naval Program – Financing Activation Costs’, p. 1, 11 June 1956.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 243

04/12/2013 08:14

244 Notes Ibid., Memorandum: ‘Naval Program – Financing Activation Costs’, p. 3. Ibid., ‘Naval Program – Financing Activation Costs’, p. 3. Ibid., ‘Naval Program – Financing Activation Costs’, p. 2. Ibid., Briefing Paper: ‘United States Military Aid Program in Latin America’, 3 December 1961. The grant programme was divided thus: Army $65.4m, Navy $49.6m, Air Force $91.5m. 69 Ibid., Briefing Paper: ‘US Naval Vessel Loans’, 12 August 1959.    The programme involved proposed loans of the following: Cuba – one destroyer escort; Argentina – two submarines; Brazil – four destroyers; Ecuador – one destroyer escort; Chile – two submarines and two destroyers; Columbia – two destroyers; Peru – two destroyers; Uruguay – one destroyer escort. 70 Ibid., Memorandum: ‘Proposed US Navy Letter to Argentine Secretary of the Navy’, 16 January 1962. 71 Ibid., ‘Proposed US Navy Letter to Argentine Secretary of the Navy’. 72 Ibid., Letter: Assistant Secretary of the Department of the Navy to Deputy Assistant Secretary for Regional Affairs, 18 June 1963, and Department of the Navy Memorandum: ‘Navy’s Proposed Ship Loan Program for Latin America, 21 May 1963. 73 Scheina, Latin America: A Naval History, p. 172. 74 NARA, Washington, RG 59, Box 2, Memorandum: ‘Inter-American Naval Co-ordinating Authority’, 10 December 1965. 75 Ibid., Memorandum: ‘Inter-American Naval Co-ordinating Authority’, 10 December 1965; Jarpa, ‘The Defense of Shipping off South America’, 66–7. 76 The disruptive nature of regional, bilateral differences is acknowledged by a senior, serving Chilean naval officer. See ibid., 69. 77 Brands, Hal (2008), ‘Third World Politics in an Age of Global Turmoil: The Latin American Challenge to US and Western Hegemony, 1965–1975’, Diplomatic History, 32 (1), 105–38, 106.    The argument that the Hemispheric Defence concept was a failure overall because US concerns dominated is evident in Collins, Harold H. (1991), ‘The United States and Brazil: A Naval Partnership for the Twenty-First Century?’, Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, California. Masters Thesis. Available online at http://www.dtic.mil/cgi-bin/GetTRDoc?AD=ADA242430 (accessed 16 September 2013). 65 66 67 68

Chapter Seven   1 The National Archives (TNA), FCO 7/1335, Arms Sales and refitting of naval vessels of South America – policy, 1967–69. ‘Record of Conversation between Lord

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 244

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

245

Chalfont, Minister of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, and Mr. Norman Cave, Managing Director of Cammell-Laird Ltd., on 24 July 1969.’   2 Morris, Michael A. (1987), Expansion of Third-World Navies. Basingstoke: Macmillan, pp. 5–16.   3 Muñoz, Heraldo (1996), ‘Themes in Latin American Foreign Relations’, in Heraldo Muñoz and Joseph S. Tulchin (eds), Latin American Nations in World Politics. London: Westview Press, pp. 4–5. Ratil Prebisch is credited as one of the pioneers of this theory. He argues that dependency on the part of what he describes as a ‘peripheral’ nation brought economic, strategic and political subordination, with the developed nation reaping the benefits.   4 Taffet, Jeffrey F. (2007), Foreign Aid as Foreign Policy: The Alliance for Progress in Latin America. London: Routledge, p. 45.    Hal Brands argues that the ‘political, military and economic turmoil’ of the mid-to-late 1960s precipitated the Third World challenge to US and Western hegemony; Brands, Hal (1980), ‘Third World Politics in an Age of Global Turmoil: The Latin American Challenge to US and Western Hegemony, 1965–1975’, Diplomatic History, 32 (1), 105–38. Mark Hove perceives disenchantment with America’s imperial-style behaviour towards Guatemala in the 1950s as a root cause; Hove, Mark T. (2007), ‘The Arbenz Factor: Salvador Allende, US-Chilean Relations, and the 1954 US Intervention in Guatemala’, Diplomatic History, 31 (4), 623–63.   5 The reports referred to were The Inter-service Working Party on the size and shape of the Armed Forces, 1948; The Chiefs of Staff Global Strategy Paper, 1952 and the Defence White Paper, Defence: Outline of Future Policy, 1957.   6 David Greenwood provides a summary of the cost of UK defence post-1945 which demonstrates why action had to be taken in the mid-1960s; Greenwood, David (1977), ‘Defence and National Priorities since 1945’, in John Baylis (ed.), British Defence Policy in a Changing World. London: Croom Hill, pp. 174–207.    John Gooch claims that the Labour Government of 1964 considered the chief function of the newly created MoD was to provide the machinery by which expenditure might be curbed; Gooch, John (1989), ‘The Chiefs of Staff and the Higher Organisation for Defence in Britain, 1904–1984, in John B. Hattendorf and Robert S. Jordan (eds), Maritime Strategy and the Balance of Power in the Twentieth Century. New York: St. Martin’s Press, p. 51.   7 Eric Grove describes the sombre but resolute mood in the Cabinet room on the day the decision was taken not to proceed with the building of the new aircraft carrier. See Grove, Eric J. (1987), Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War II. London: The Bodley Head, pp. 275–6.    National Maritime Museum (NMM), LWN2/4/6, Papers of Admiral of The Fleet, Lord Terence Lewin of Greenwich, (1923–1999). Draft Speeches 1976; Peden, G.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 245

04/12/2013 08:14

246 Notes C. (2007), Arms, Economics and British Strategy: From Dreadnoughts to Hydrogen Bombs. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 342–3; Hampshire, Edward (2013), From East of Suez to the Eastern Atlantic: Royal Navy Policy 1964–70. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, p. 169.   8 The actual cost of maintaining forces east of Suez was pinpointed by the Joint Planning Staff in 1963. See Middeke, Michael (2001), ‘Britain’s Global Military Role, Conventional Defence and Anglo-American Interdependence after Nassau’, Journal of Strategic Studies, 24 (1),143–64, 145; Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy, pp. 332 and 335; Grove, Vanguard to Trident, p. 277.    Tim Benbow shows that, although the cancellation of CVA–01 did shock and dismay many within the Navy, the news was not condemned by all who contributed articles to The Naval Review, the journal for RN officers which allowed for personal opinions to be offered anonymously without fear of reprisal; Benbow, Tim (2012), ‘The Post-1945 Struggle for Naval Aviation’, in Peter Hore (ed.), Dreadnought to Daring: 100 Years of Comment, Controversy and Debate in The Naval Review. Barnsley: Seaforth Publishing, pp. 137–42.   9 Healey, Denis (1989), The Time of My Life. London: Michael Joseph, p. 276; Grove, Vanguard to Trident, p. 261. 10 Hampshire, From East of Suez to the Eastern Atlantic, pp. 77–139. Ironically, after CVA–01 had been cancelled, Dennis Healey, who had opposed the new carrier from the day he entered office, suggested that a smaller aircraft carrier to undertake the ‘maritime’ tasks envisaged for CVA–01 could be built instead, p. 121. 11 Ibid., for example pp. 85 and 93. 12 TNA, FCO 7/1335, ‘Record of Conversation’, Paragraphs 1 and 4. 13 TNA, DEFE 7/1600, Select Committee on Estimates: promotion of arms sales, 1958–60. 14 TNA, DEFE 10/460, Strategic Exports (official) Committee: minutes of meetings & memoranda, 1964. Committee Meeting Minutes, 14 September 1964. Note by Chairman: ‘Promotion of Arms Exports’. 15 TNA, FO 371/179140, Service Attachés, 1964. FO Permanent Under-Secretary’s Department Report: ‘Official Committee on Service Attachés: Review of Service Attaché Deployment (General Lloyd’s Report)’, 5 August 1964. 16 Phythian, Mark (2000), The Politics of British Arms Sales since 1964. Manchester: Manchester University Press, p. 59.    Raj Roy summarizes the problems facing the British economy in late 1964 after several years of low productivity, increased consumer demand and the threat of a devaluation of sterling that in turn impacted on the stability of the dollar with which the British currency had become intertwined. See Roy, Raj (2004), ‘No Secrets between “Special Friends”: America’s Involvement in British Economic Policy, October 1964 – April 1965’, History, 89 (295), 399–423, 402.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 246

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

247

17 Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy, p. 335; Healey, The Time of My Life, p. 277. 18 TNA, CAB 148/24, Defence and Overseas Policy Committee Papers, 178–194, 1965. ‘Export of Defence Equipment: Report of an Enquiry by Sir Donald Stokes’. 19 Ibid., ‘Export of Defence Equipment – Principal Recommendations’. 20 Ibid., Paragraph 37. 21 TNA, BT 203/13, Strategic Export Issues including Promotion of Arms Sales, 1964–65. Submission to President of Board of Trade: ‘Export of Defence Equipment’, 13 December 1965; TNA, DEFE 69/78, Finance Division 3(N): Sales Organisation and Complement, 1965–66. Head of Finance Division 3(N) to Head of CE 1(N), 11 March 1965; FO 366/3585, Organisation of Arms Sales Overseas: new Foreign Office Supply Section, 1966. Internal Minute, L. C. W. Figg, 6 January 1965. 22 TNA, FO 371/184559, Assessment of the Value of Naval Visits, 1965. 23 Ibid., Letter: Second Permanent Under-Secretary of State (Navy), Michael Cary, to Head of Diplomatic Service, Sir Harold Caccia, 21 January 1965.    A snapshot of Britain’s global commitments in 1965 shows naval vessels deployed in the Caribbean, South Atlantic, Mediterranean, Indian Ocean and Far East as well as in home waters. See Hill, Rear-Admiral J. R., RN (1995), ‘The Realities of Medium Power, 1946 to the Present’, in J. R. Hill (ed.), The Oxford Illustrated History of the Royal Navy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, p. 389. 24 TNA, FO 371/184559, Letter: Michael Cary to Sir Harold Caccia, 12 April 1965. 25 Ibid., Letter: Burrows to Cary, 7 May 1965. 26 TNA, ADM 167/159, Board Memoranda, 1961. C-in-C South Atlantic and South America Station: South Atlantic and South America Station Survey – 1960. 27 Ibid., Paragraph 4, 25 November 1960. 28 Wettern, Desmond (1982), The Decline of British Seapower. London: Jane’s, p. 193. 29 TNA, T236/6714, Export Credit Guarantee cover for UK exports to Argentina: frigates for Argentine Navy, 1962. 30 ‘Seamaster’ (1962), ‘Turn on the Heat’, The Naval Review, 50 (2), 139–43, 142.    The fear that communism might spread to other South American states following the overthrow with US support of President Arbenz of Guatemala in 1954 is discussed in Hove,‘The Arbenz Factor’, 623–63. 31 ‘Seamaster’, ‘Turn on the Heat’, 141. 32 Chumbley, Stephen (ed.) (1995), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1947–1995. London: Conway Maritime Press, pp. 517 and 519. 33 TNA, DEFE 69/479, RN Special Squadron Visit to South America, 1964. Letter: Head of Defence Secretariat to Minister of Defence, 6 April 1964. 34 Peters, John (1973), ‘Defence Sales and the Naval Sales Division 1966–1970’, The Naval Review, 62 (3), 254–65, 256.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 247

04/12/2013 08:14

248 Notes 35 TNA, DEFE 69/479, Memorandum, Head of Finance 3 (Naval), Leon Solomon, ‘RN Special Squadron Visit to South America, Autumn 1964 – Opportunities for Sales Promotion’, Paragraph 3a. 36 Ibid., Internal Memorandum, VCNS, 29 May 1964. 37 Wettern, The Decline of British Seapower, 209–10; TNA, DEFE 69/479, Letter: Naval Attaché to Director of Naval Intelligence, 26 October 1964. 38 Ibid., ‘Special Squadron Visit to South America, 1964 – Sales Brochure’. 39 Ibid., Note of a meeting, 24 July, 1964: ‘South America Cruise: Interest of Warship Group’, Paragraph 2. 40 Ibid., Letter: Foreign Office to Ministry of Defence, 16 July, 1964.    The Economic Credit Guarantee Department (ECGD) was the key body charged with overseeing these matters in relation to exports. For an explanation of the work of the ECGD in the 1960s and the individual credit rating system applied to each country, see Phythian, The Politics of British Arms Sales, 77–9. 41 TNA, DEFE 69/479, Internal Memorandum: Director Finance Division 3 (Naval), ‘Foreign Office and Treasury Attitude towards the South American Sales Campaign’, 22 July 1964. 42 Ibid., Letter: Chief of Naval Staff to Minister of Defence, ‘Special Squadron Cruise to South America – 1964’, 29 January 1964. 43 TNA, FCO 7/403, Sale of Naval Equipment, 1967–68. Letter: British Ambassador, Santiago to FO American Department, 30 December 1966. 44 TNA FCO 57/137, Queen’s State Visit to Chile, 1968–69. Letter: Foreign & Commonwealth Office (FCO) to Queen’s Private Secretary, 29 November 1968 and FCO Confidential Report: ‘The State Visit of Her Majesty The Queen & The Duke of Edinburgh to Chile, 11–18 November 1968’. 45 TNA, FCO 7/102, Visit by HM The Queen to Brazil and Chile, 1967–68. 46 A further legacy of the 1969 visit saw Chile eventually purchase four of the eight County Class guided missile destroyers, of which HMS Hampshire was a member, once they had been deemed ‘surplus to requirements’ by the Royal Navy in the early 1980s. 47 Peters, ‘Defence Sales’, 257. 48 Ibid., 258; Phythian, The Politics of British Arms Sales, p. 61. 49 TNA, FCO 7/1511, Naval Sales from the United Kingdom, 1970–71. Letter: Director Naval Sales Division to FCO America Department, 20 November 1970. 50 Peters, ‘Defence Sales’, 263–4; Chumbley, Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1946–1995, pp. 7 and 34. 51 Ibid., p. 304; TNA, FCO 7/1335, Arms Sales, ‘Record of Conversation between Lord Chalfont, Minister of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, and Mr. Norman Cave, Managing Director of Cammell Laird Ltd. on 24 July 1969.’ 52 TNA, FCO7/1511.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 248

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

249

   Unlike the Type 21, the Type 42 frigate design was never developed beyond the drawing board stage. See Friedman, Norman (2006), British Destroyers and Frigates: The Second World War and After. London: Chatham Publishing, pp. 211–12.    It was alleged that during a visit to Rio de Janeiro by two frigates of the Köln Class in 1968, when asked by a group of visitors whether the ships were good sea boats, a German engineer officer replied ‘They are real pigs.’ 53 TNA, FCO 7/1511. 54 Ibid.

Chapter Eight   1 The National Archives (TNA), FCO 7/1142, Naval Visits and Arrangements for Visit of HMS Endurance for Anniversary of Battle of Corral, 1969. Letter: British Ambassador, Santiago to Foreign Secretary, 18 March 1969.  2 Ibid.   3 TNA, FCO 7/1140, Chile: Concerns over arms race in Latin America, 1968. Letter: Chilean Ambassador, Santiago to Latin American Department, 21 November 1968.   4 TNA, FCO 7/1335, Arms Sales and refitting of naval vessels of South America – policy, 1967–69. ‘Record of Conversation between Lord Chalfont, Minister of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, and Mr. Norman Cave, Managing Director of Cammell-Laird Ltd. on 24 July 1969.’   5 The history of the boundary dispute, referred to here and earlier in this chapter, between Venezuela and Guyana (formerly British Guiana) is recounted in TNA, FO 371/109173, Notes on the boundary dispute between British Guiana and Venezuela from 1840–1951, 1954.   6 TNA, DEFE 13/811, Arms Sales and military assistance to other countries, 1965–70, Ministry of Defence Paper – ‘Arms Sales and Military Assistance’, Paragraph 6, 4 January 1969.  7 Ibid., Paragraphs 16, 17 and 37–8, 4 January 1969.   8 Grove, Eric J. (1987), Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War II. London: The Bodley Head, pp. 297–8.   9 Morris, Michael A. (1987), Expansion of Third-World Navies. Basingstoke: Macmillan, pp. 11–16.    Examples of major war vessels laid down for South American navies in the period 1970 to 1985 by European companies include: Germany – 8 frigates and 21 submarines for Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Venezuela; Italy – 10 frigates for Colombia, Peru and Venezuela; France – 3 corvettes for Argentina; Spain – 5 corvettes for Argentina. In addition Argentina and Brazil

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 249

04/12/2013 08:14

250 Notes built 10 frigates and corvettes in home yards. See Chumbley, Stephen (ed.) (1995), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships 1947–1995. London: Conway Maritime Press. 10 During the period 1970–85, the United States sold 39 second-hand warships and submarines to various South American navies. This number does not include numerous small amphibious vessels; ibid. 11 Phythian, Mark (2000), The Politics of British Arms Sales since 1964. Manchester: Manchester University Press, p. 197. 12 Brown, David (1987), The Royal Navy and the Falklands War. London: Leo Cooper, p. 96. 13 Freedman, Sir Lawrence (2005), The Official History of the Falklands Campaign, Volume I: The Origins of the Falklands War. London: Routledge, pp. 54–5. 14 Ibid., 86; Hastings, Max and Jenkins, Simon (1983), The Battle for the Falklands. London: Book Club Associates, pp. 36–7. 15 Freedman, The Official History of the Falklands Campaign, pp. 66–7. 16 TNA, FCO 46/1615, Deployment of Royal Navy Task Group 316.1 to Southern Atlantic, 1978. Letter: MoD to FCO Defence Department, 29 December 1978. 17 Roberts, John (2009), Safeguarding the Nation: The Story of the Modern Royal Navy. Barnsley: Seaforth Publishing, pp. 113–14; Unwin, Commander P. J., RN (1976), ‘Brazil: A Maritime Role in the South Atlantic’, Navy International, 82 (10), 4–6.    Brazex 75 was the first of a series of biennial exercises between the RN and the Brazilian Navy intended to demonstrate Britain’s support for the country at a time when ‘with a strong political motive behind them and with more modern Fleet units at their disposal they are themselves taking the initiative among the South American navies’. See TNA, FCO 46/2449, Royal Navy Deployments outside the NATO area, 1980. Letter: Brazilian Ambassador to Foreign Secretary, ‘Brazilian Naval Policy’, Paragraph 25, 18 September 1980.

Chapter Nine   1 Kennedy, Paul M. (1976), The Rise and Fall of British Naval Mastery, London: Penguin, p. 325.   2 The National Archives (TNA), CAB 128/41 Cabinet Conclusions: 1(66) – 68(66), 1966. Defence Review Statement on Defence Estimates, 1966: Part 1 ‘Carrier Force’.   3 Fielding, Jeremy (1999), ‘Coping with Decline: US Policy towards British Defense Reviews of 1966’, Diplomatic History, 23 (4), pp. 633–56, 641.   4 Hampshire, Edward (2013), From East of Suez to the Eastern Atlantic: British Naval Policy 1964–70, Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, p. 163.   5 Jackson, Ashley (2008), ‘Imperial Defence in the Post-Imperial Era’, in Greg Kennedy (ed.), Imperial Defence: The Old World Order. London: Routledge, p. 325.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 250

04/12/2013 08:14

Notes

251

  6 Jeremy Black demonstrates that the RN played a key part in maintaining Britain’s position as a world power after the so-called end of empire; Black, Jeremy (2005), ‘A Post-Imperial Power? Britain and the Royal Navy’, Foreign Policy Research Institute, pp. 353–65, 358.   7 Hill, Richard (2000), Lewin of Greenwich: The Authorised Biography of Admiral of the Fleet Lord Lewin. London: Cassell, p. 248.   8 Saki Dockrill claims that Harold Wilson ‘wanted Britain’s global role to continue, albeit in a different way, with Britain’s status as a global military power gradually being superseded by its reputation for global diplomacy’; Dockrill, Saki (2002), Britain’s Retreat from East of Suez: The Choice between Europe and the World?, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, p. 215.   9 Daddow, Oliver (2010), ‘Dodging the Bullet and Ducking the Question: British Defence Policy and its Post-Imperial World Role’, The Royal United Services Institute Military and Policy Series III, pp. 9–15, 10. Available online at http://www. rusi.org/analysis/commentary/ref:C4C6D0795721B3/#.UjggM–3aM-M (accessed 17 September 2013).    Saki Dockrill states that the east of Suez withdrawal ‘epitomised Britain’s changing relations with the world between 1945 and 1968’. Formerly, Britain had felt at ‘the centre’ of Churchill’s three interlocking circles. Dockrill notes that Churchill first announced this theory publicly in 1947. Dockrill, Britain’s Retreat from East of Suez, p. 225. 10 Carrington, Peter (1988), Reflecting on Things Past: The Memoirs of Peter Lord Carrington. New York: Harper & Row, p. 219. 11 TNA, FCO 46/951, Deployment of Naval Forces; Flexibility of Sea Power / Group Operating, 1973. Letter: FCO to MoD, ‘Flexibility of Sea Power alias Group Operating’, 9 January 1973. 12 Lane, Ann (2003), ‘Third World Neutralism and British Cold War Strategy’, Diplomacy & Statecraft, 14 (3), 151–74, 152–3; Till, Geoffrey (2005), ‘Holding the Bridge in Troubled Times: The Cold War and the Navies of Europe’, The Journal of Strategic Studies, 28 (2), 309–27, 314 13 Civilian representatives on board the Dutch vessels ranged from personnel from the renowned electronics firm Hollandse Signaal to farmers’ daughters in traditional costume presenting the best of Dutch cheeses. Letter from W. O. Henk Visser RNlN Rtd to the author, 5 September 2012. 14 Hill, Lewin of Greenwich, 249. 15 Lewin, Admiral Sir Terence, RN (1978), ‘A Very Good Run for your Money’, Navy International, 83 (8), 8–10, 9. 16 Lord Chatfield’s speech is quoted in Kennedy, ‘The Royal Navy and Imperial Defence’, p. 145. 17 Ibid., p. 144.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 251

04/12/2013 08:14

252 Notes 18 John Roberts provides a comprehensive summary of all the Group Deployments undertaken during this period; Roberts, John (2009), Safeguarding the Nation: The Story of the Modern Royal Navy. Barnsley: Seaforth Publishing, p. 344.    Till, Geoffrey (2004), Seapower, A Guide for the Twenty-First Century. 2nd edn. London: Routledge, pp. 13–14.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 252

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography Primary sources United Kingdom records The National Archives, Kew, London Records of the Admiralty Admiralty and Secretariat Papers (ADM1) ADM 1/8663/115, 8655/16, 8694/9, 8695/35, 8696/58, 8717/218, 8756/157, 8762/254, 8733/50, 9167, 9678, 17893, 24810, 24860, 26496, 26517, 27019, 27450. Admiralty and Secretariat Cases (ADM116) ADM 116/2129, 2263, 2294, 2459, 2465, 2489, 2565, 2568, 2655, 2710, 2866, 3061, 3251, 3920, 3921, 5978, 6018, 6233. Board of Admiralty Minutes and Memoranda (ADM167) ADM 167/75, 76, 83, 159. Records of the Board of Trade and successor and related bodies Board of Trade: Enemy Debts Clearing Office: Files (BT203) BT 56/18, 203/13. Records of the Cabinet Office Cabinet Office: Defence and Overseas Policy Committees and Sub-committees: Minutes and Papers (CAB 9, 27, 28, 129, 148) CAB 9/116/15, 128/41, 148/24. Records of the Colonial Office Records of the Chief Clerk’s and General Departments (CO 537) CO 537/1870. Correspondence with the colonies, entry books and registers of correspondence (CO 1024) CO 1024/40, 240. Records of the Dominions Office General Records of the Dominions Office (DO 35) DO 35/2877, 2879, 7107. Records of the Foreign Office Records of the Chief Clerk’s Department (FO 366) FO 366/3585. Foreign Office Confidential Print (FO463) FO 463/5.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 253

04/12/2013 08:14

254 Bibliography Records of Conferences, Committees and Councils (FO608) FO 608/173/22. General Correspondence from Political and Other Departments (FO 371) FO 371/10611, 11122, 118673, 11976–78, 126112, 12752, 13475, 139158, 139263, 139265, 14217, 15077, 15078, 15081, 15802, 15824, 184610, 18669, 20620, 21435–37, 90435, 90444, 109173, 126112, 179140, 184559. Confidential Print Antarctica (FO 463) FO 463/2 to 483/8. Records of the Foreign and Commonwealth Relations Office Records of the Political Geographical Departments (FCO 7) FCO 7/102, 403, 1140, 1142, 1355, 1355, 1511. Records of the Defence Departments (FCO 46) FCO 46/951, 1615, 2449. Records of the Protocol, Nationality, Treaty and Claims Departments (FCO 57) FCO 57/137. Records of the Ministry of Defence Records of the Defence Chiefs of Staff (DEFE 7) DEFE 7/1600. Records of Administrative Departments (DEFE 10, 13, 69) DEFE 10/460, 13/811, 69/78, 69/479. Records of the Prime Minister’s Office Office Papers (PREM 11) PREM 11/330, 11/4736. Records of the Treasury Records of the Export Credit Guarantee Department (ECG5) ECG5/123. Records of the Overseas Finance Division (T236) T236/6429, 6714. Records created or inherited by the War Office, Armed Forces, Judge Advocate General and related bodies General Records of the War Office (WO32) WO32/16706. Cambridge University Library, Cambridge Vickers Company Archive Quarterly Works Reports for quarters ending 31 March, 30 June, 30 September, 31 December 1928. Quarterly Works Reports for quarters ending 31 March, 30 June, 30 September, 31 December 1929.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 254

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography

255

The Caird Library, The National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London Manuscript section Godfrey, John Henry, Admiral, 1888–1971 GOD 73. Grohman, Harold Tom Baillie, Vice-Admiral, 1888–1978 GRO 5. Lewin, Terence, Admiral of the Fleet, 1920–1999 LWN 2/46. Norris, David Thomas, Admiral, 1875–1937 NOS 12. Register of Foreign Officer Students at Royal Naval College, Greenwich, 1904–1927 RNCG 2/19. Tait, Admiral Sir William Eric Campbell, 1886–1946 TAI/6. Hansard House of Commons record Volume (Vol.) 192, 11 March 1926. Vol. 203, 14 March 1927.

United States of America records Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS) Volumes 1 (1924 and 1930); 9 (1936); 5 (1937); 9 (1945); 1(1950); 2 (1951); 4 (1952–4). National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, DC Record Group (RG) 38 Boxes 15, 893, 1152. RG 59 Boxes 2, 21, 429, 428, 573. RG 428 Box 21. The Harry S. Truman Presidential Library, Independence, Missouri Foreign Affairs File 1940–1953 Boxes 150, 194. White House Central Files – Official Files Boxes 290, 291, 292, 1285. Papers of Dean Acheson ‘B’ File: Containment in Latin America Folders 1:4, 1:5, 2:2, 2:3, 2:6, 4:2.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 255

04/12/2013 08:14

256 Bibliography

Chile records Foreign Relations Archive, Santiago, Chile Archivo General Histórico Volumes 1104 (1927); 1146 (1928); 2220 (1944); 2439 (1946); 3516 (1953).

Secondary sources Books and monographs Agar, Captain Augustus, RN (1962), Showing the Flag: The Role of the Royal Navy between the World Wars. London: Evans. Altham, Captain E. RN (1934), ‘Foreign Navies’, in Cdr C. N. Robinson, RN, and H. M. Ross (eds), Brassey’s Naval & Shipping Annual, 1934. London: William Clowes. Anon (no date), The Cruise of HMS Exeter. London: W.H. Smith. Anon (1936), ‘The London Naval Treaty, 1936’, in Cdr Charles N. Robinson (ed.), Brassey’s Naval Annual, 1936. London: William Clowes. Barclay, Glen (1971), Struggle for a Continent: The Diplomatic History of South America, 1917–1945. London: Sidgwick & Jackson. Beck, Peter J. (1990), ‘International Relations in Antarctica: Argentina, Chile and the Great Powers’, in Michael A. Morris (ed.), Great Power Relations in Argentina, Chile and Antarctica. Basingstoke: Macmillan. Beeler, John F. (1997), British Naval Policy in the Gladstone-Disraeli Era 1866–1880. California: Stanford University Press. Bell, Christopher M. (2000), The Royal Navy, Seapower and Strategy between the Wars. California: Stanford University Press. —(2013), Churchill and Sea Power. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Benbow, Tim (2012), ‘The Post-1945 Struggle for Naval Aviation’, in Peter Hore (ed.), Dreadnought to Daring: 100 Years of Comment, Controversy and Debate in The Naval Review. Barnsley: Seaforth Publishing. Booth, K. (1977), Navies and Foreign Policy. London: Croom Hill. Bowers, Claude G. (1958), Chile through Embassy Windows: 1939–1953. New York: Simon & Schuster Brook, Peter (1999), Warships for Export: Armstrong Warships 1867–1927. Gravesend: World Ship Society. Brown, David (1987), The Royal Navy and the Falklands War. London: Leo Cooper. Cable, James (1971), Gunboat Diplomacy: Political Applications of Limited Naval Force. London: Chatto & Windus. —(1985), Diplomacy at Sea. Basingstoke: Macmillan. —(1999), The Political Influence of Naval Force in History. Basingstoke: Macmillan. Child, Jack (1985), Geopolitics and Conflict in South America: Quarrels among Neighbours. New York: Praeger.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 256

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography

257

Collier, Simon and Sater, William F. (1996), A History of Chile, 1808–1994. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Conti, Guiseppe (1994), ‘Financial Weakness and Industrial Conflict in Italian Shipbuilding between the Wars’, in Simon P. Ville and David Williams (eds), Management, Finance and Industrial Relations in Maritime Industries: Essays in International Maritime and Business History. Newfoundland: International Maritime Economic History Association. Couyoumdjian, Juan (1986), Chile y Gran Bretaña durante las primera Guerra Mundial y la postguerra, 1914–1921. Santiago: Andrés Bello. Dancer, Alec (2002), The Dons Delivered: Ships Built in Vickers 1930–1947 -The Work and Play of the Shipbuilders of this Era. Barrow-in-Furness: Alec Dancer. Dockrill, M. (1988), British Defence since 1945. Oxford: Blackwell. Dockrill, Saki (2002), Britain’s Retreat from East of Suez: The Choice between Europe and the World?. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Dodds, Klaus (2002), Pink Ice: Britain and the South Atlantic Empire. London: I.B. Tauris. Edgerton, David (2006), Warfare State: Britain 1920 to 1970. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —(2012), Britain’s War Machine: Weapons, Resources and Experts in the Second World War. London: Penguin Books. English, Adrian (1984), Armed Forces of Latin America: Their Histories, Development, Present Strength and Military Potential. London: Jane’s. Ereira, Alan (1981), The Invergordon Mutiny: A Narrative History of the Last Great Mutiny in the Royal Navy and How It Forced Britain off the Gold Standard in 1931. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Fermandois, Joaquin (1990), ‘Chile and the Great Powers’, in Michael A. Morris (ed.), Great Power Relations in Argentina, Chile and Antarctic. Basingstoke: Macmillan. Ferris, John (1996), ‘The Last Decade of British Maritime Supremacy, 1919–1929’, in Keith Neilson and Greg Kennedy (eds), Far Flung Lines: Studies in Imperial Defence in Honour of Donald Mackenzie Schurman. London: Frank Cass. Fotakis, Zsis (2005), Greek Naval Strategy and Policy, 1910–1919. London: Routledge. Fox, Alan (2011), Prefacio, in Michelle Prain (ed.), Legado Británico en Valparaíso. Viña del Mar: Universidad Andrés Bello. Fox, Robert (1985), Antarctica and the South Atlantic: Discovery, Development and Dispute. London: BBC Publishing. Freedman, Sir Lawrence (2005), The Official History of the Falklands Campaign, Volume I: The Origins of the Falklands War. London: Routledge. French, David (1990), The British Way of Warfare, 1688–2000. London: Unwin Hyman. Friedman, Norman (2005), ‘Electronics and the Royal Navy’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London: Frank Cass. —(2006), British Destroyers & Frigates: The Second World War and After. London: Chatham Publishing.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 257

04/12/2013 08:14

258 Bibliography Gamba-Stonehouse, Virginia (1989), Strategy in the Southern Oceans: A South American View. London: Pinter Publishers. Glade, William P. (1969), The Latin American Economies: A Study of Their Institutional Evolution. New York: American Book Company. Gooch, John (1989), ‘The Chiefs of Staff and the Higher Organisation for Defence in Britain, 1904–1984’ in John B. Hattendorf and Robert S. Jordan (eds), Maritime Strategy and the Balance of Power in the Twentieth Century. New York: St. Martin’s Press. Gordon, Andrew (1998), ‘Naval Procurement and Shipbuilding Capacity, 1918–1939’, in David J. Starkey and Alan G. Jamieson (eds), Exploiting the Sea: Aspects of Britain’s Maritime Economy since 1870. Exeter: Exeter University Press. Gordon, G. A. H. (1988), British Seapower and Procurement between the Wars: A Reappraisal of Rearmament. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press. Gough, Barry (1999), ‘Profit and Power: Informal Empire, the Navy and Latin America’, in Raymond E. Durnett (ed.), Gentlemanly Capitalism and British Imperialism: The New Debate on Empire. Harlow: Longman. Greenwood, David (1977), ‘Defence and National Priorities since 1945’, in John Baylis (ed.), British Defence Policy in a Changing World. London: Croom Hill. Grove, Eric J. (1987), Vanguard to Trident: British Naval Policy since World War II. London: The Bodley Head. —(1995) ‘A Service Vindicated 1939–46’, in J. R. Hill (ed.), The Oxford Illustrated History of the Royal Navy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hampshire, Edward (2013), From East of Suez to the Eastern Atlantic: British Naval Policy 1964–70. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing. Hastings, Max and Jenkins, Simon (1983), The Battle for the Falklands. London: Book Club Associates. Hendrix, Henry J. (2009), Theodore Roosevelt’s Naval Diplomacy: The U.S. Navy and the Birth of the American Century. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press. Hill, Rear-Admiral J. R., RN (1995), ‘The Realities of Medium Power, 1946 to the Present’, in J. R. Hill (ed.), The Oxford Illustrated History of the Royal Navy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hobbs, David (2005), ‘Naval Aviation, 1930–2000’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London: Frank Cass. Jackson, Ashley (2008), ‘Imperial Defence in the Post-Imperial Era’, in Greg Kennedy (ed.), Imperial Defence: The Old World Order. London: Routledge. Johnman, Lewis (1998), ‘Internationalisation and the Collapse of British Shipbuilding’, in David J. Starkey and Gelina Harlaftis (eds), Global Markets: The Internationalisation of the Sea Transport Industries since 1850. Newfoundland: International Maritime Economic History Association. Johnman, Lewis and Murphy, Hugh (2005), ‘Welding and the British Shipbuilding Industry: A Major Constraint?’, in Richard Harding (ed.), The Royal Navy, 1930–2000: Innovation and Defence. London: Frank Cass.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 258

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography

259

—(2005), Scott Lithgow: Déjà Vu all over again: The Rise and Fall of a Shipbuilding Company. Newfoundland: International Maritime Economic History Association. Johnston, Ian, Newman, Brian and Buxton, Ian (2012), ‘Building the Grand Fleet: 1906–1916’, in John Jordan (ed.), Warship 2012. London: Conway Maritime Press. Kennedy, Gregory C. (2008), ‘The Royal Navy and Imperial Defence, 1919–1956’, in Greg Kennedy (ed.), Imperial Defence: The Old World Order, 1856–1956. London: Routledge. Kennedy, Paul M. (1976), The Rise and Fall of British Naval Mastery. London: Penguin. —(1981), The Realities behind Diplomacy. London: Fontana. Knight, Roger and Wilcox, Martin (2010), Sustaining the Fleet 1793–1815: War, the British Navy and the Contractor State. Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer. López, Carlos (1998), Chile: A Brief Naval History. Valparaiso: Imprenta de la Armada. Luttwak, Edward N. (1974), The Political Uses of Sea Power. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press. Mares, David R. (1998), ‘Strategic Balance and Confidence Building Measures in Latin America: The Historical Utility of an Ambiguous Concept’, in Joseph S. Tulchin and Francisco Rojas Aravena with Ralph H. Espach (eds), Strategic Balance and Confidence Building Measures in the Americas. California: Stanford University Press. Marder, A. J. (1972), The Anatomy of British Sea Power: A History of British Naval Policy in the Pre-Dreadnought Era, 1880–1905. London: Frank Cass. Martin, L. W. (1967), The Sea in Modern Strategy. London: Chatto & Windus. McKercher, B. J. (1999), Transition of Power: Britain’s Loss of Global Pre-eminence to the United States, 1930–1945. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Merrill, Dennis (1990), ‘Latin America’, in Richard Kirkendall (ed.), The Harry S Truman Encyclopaedia. Boston: G.K. Hall. Middendorff II, J. William (1983), ‘The USN’s Latin American Partners’, in Captain John Moore, RN (ed.), Jane’s Naval Review. London: Jane’s. Miller, Rory (1993), Britain and Latin America in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries. London: Longman. Montenegro, Guillermo J. (2002), ‘An Argentine Naval Build-Up in the Disarmament Era: The Naval Procurement Act of 1926’, in Antony Preston (ed.), Warship 2002–2003. London: Conway Maritime Press. Moretz, Joseph (2003), The Royal Navy and the Capital Ship in the Interwar Period: An Operational Perspective. London: Frank Cass. Morris, Michael A. (1987), Expansion of Third-World Navies. Basingstoke: Macmillan. Muñoz, Heraldo (1996), ‘Themes in Latin American Foreign Relations’, in Heraldo Muñoz and Joseph S. Tulchin (eds), Latin American Nations in World Politics. London: Westview Press. Nunn, Frederick M. (1976), The Military in Chilean History: Essays on Civil-Military Relations, 1810–1973. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. Orde, Anne (1996), The Eclipse of Great Britain: The United States and British Imperial Decline, 1895–1956. Basingstoke: Macmillan.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 259

04/12/2013 08:14

260 Bibliography Peden, G. C. (2007), Arms, Economics and British Strategy: From Dreadnoughts to Hydrogen Bombs. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Peebles, Hugh B. (1987), Warshipbuilding on the Clyde: Naval Orders and the Prosperity of the Clyde. Edinburgh: John Donald. Phythian, Mark (2000), The Politics of British Arms Sales since 1964. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Platt, D. C. M. (1972), Latin America and British Trade 1806–1914. London: A & C Black. Reckner, James (1988), Teddy Roosevelt’s Great White Fleet. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press. Reynolds, David (1991), Britannia Overruled: British Policy and World Power in the Twentieth Century. London: Longman. Roberts, John (2009), Safeguarding the Nation: The Story of the Modern Royal Navy. Barnsley: Seaforth Publishing. Rodger, N. A. M. (2001), ‘Training or Education: A Naval Dilemma over Three Centuries’, in Peter Hore (ed.), Hudson Papers, Volume 1. London: Royal Navy Defence Studies. Roskill, Stephen (1968), Naval Policy Between the Wars 1: The Period of AngloAmerican Antagonism, 1919–1929. London: Collins. —(1976), Naval Policy Between the Wars, Volume II: The Period of Reluctant Rearmament 1930–1939. London: Collins. Rüger, Jan (2007), The Great Naval Game: Britain and Germany in the Age of Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sampson, Anthony (1977), The Arms Bazaar. London: Hodder & Stoughton. Sater, William F. (1973), The Heroic Image in Chile: Arturo Prat, Secular Saint. California: University of California Press. —(2003), ‘Mutiny in the Chilean Navy, 1931’, in Christopher M. Bell and Bruce A. Elleman (eds), Naval Mutinies of the Twentieth Century: An International Perspective. London: Frank Cass. Scott, J. D. (1962), Vickers: A History. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson. Scheina, Robert L. (1987), Latin America: A Naval History, 1810–1987. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press. Slaven, Anthony (1983), ‘Management Policy and the Eclipse of British Shipbuilding’, in Fred M. Walker and Anthony Slaven (eds), European Shipbuilding: One Hundred Years of Change. Proceedings of the Third Shipbuilding History Conference. London: Marine Publications. Joseph Smith (1991), Unequal Giants: Diplomatic Relations between the United States and Brazil, 1889–1930. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press ‘The Scribes’ (no date), With HMS ‘Caradoc’, Round South America. Lowestoft: The Borough Press. Stoker, Donald (2008), ‘Buying Influence, Selling Arms, Undermining a Friend: The French Naval Mission to Poland and the Development of the Polish Navy,

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 260

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography

261

1923–1932’, in Donald Stoker (ed.), Military Advising and Assistance: From Mercenaries to Privatisation, 1805–2007. London: Routledge. Taffet, Jeffrey F. (2007), Foreign Aid as Foreign Policy: The Alliance for Progress in Latin America. London: Routledge. Till, Geoffrey (1996), ‘Adopting the Aircraft Carrier: The British, American, and Japanese Case Studies’, in Williamson Murray and Allan R. Millett (eds), Military Innovation in the Interwar Period. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. —(2009), Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century, Second Edition. London: Routledge. Trebilcock, C. (1976), ‘The British Armaments Industry, 1890–1913: False Identity and True Utility’, in G. Best and A. Wheatcroft (eds), War, Economy and the Military Mind. London: Croom Helm. Vivian, Captain J. G. P., RN (1934), HMS ‘Dauntless’ 1930–1932: American and West Indies Station. Lowestoft: The Borough Press. Watt, D. C. (1989), How the War Came: The Immediate Origins of the Second World War, 1938–39. London: Mandarin. Wells, Captain John, RN (1994), The Royal Navy: An Illustrated Social History, 1870–1982. Stroud: Sutton Publishing. Wettern, Desmond (1982), The Decline of British Seapower. London: Jane’s. Williams, David L. and De Kerbrech, Richard P. J. (2012), Samuel White & Co. Shipbuilders. Stroud: The History Press. Biographies and memoirs Carrington, Peter (1988), Reflecting on Things Past: The Memoirs of Peter Lord Carrington. New York: Harper & Row. Cunningham, Admiral of the Fleet Viscount of Hyndhope (1953), A Sailor’s Odyssey. London: Hutchinson. Hart-Dyke, Captain David, RN (2007), Four Weeks in May: The Loss of HMS Coventry. A Captain’s Story. London: Atlantic Books. Healey, Denis (1989), The Time of My Life. London: Michael Joseph. Hill, Richard (2000), Lewin of Greenwich: The Authorised Biography of Admiral of the Fleet Lord Lewin. London: Cassell. James, Admiral Sir William, RN (1943), Admiral Sir William Fisher. London: Macmillan. Lambert, Andrew (2009), Admirals: The Naval Commanders Who Made Britain Great. London: Faber & Faber. Smith, H. H. (1932), A ‘Yellow’ Admiral Remembers. London: Edward Arnold. Reference works Anon. (1930, 1931, 1932, 1933), The Navy List. London: His Majesty’s Stationery Office. —(1995), The Fundamentals of British Maritime Doctrine, BR1806. London: HMSO. —(2004), The Fundamentals of British Maritime Doctrine, BR1806. 3rd edn. London: The Stationery Office.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 261

04/12/2013 08:14

262 Bibliography Banton, Mandy (2008), Administering the Empire, 1801–1968: A Guide to the Records of the Colonial Office in the National Archives of the UK. London: Institute of Historical Research and The National Archives. Blackman, Raymond V. B. (ed.) (1961), Jane’s Fighting Ships 1961–62. London: Samson Low & Marston. Cock, Randolph and Rodger, N. A. M. (eds) (2006), A Guide to the Naval Records in the National Archives of the UK. London: Institute of Historical Research and The National Archives. Chesneau, Roger (ed.) (1980), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1922–1946. London: Conway Maritime Press. Chumbley, Stephen (ed.) (1995), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1947–1995. London: Conway Maritime Press. Gray, Randal (ed.) (1985), Conway’s All the World’s Fighting Ships, 1906–1921. London: Conway Maritime Press. Journal articles Anon. (1930), ‘Some Aspects of the Relations between the British and Chilean Navies’, The Naval Review, 18 (2), 316–22. Aram, Bethany (1992), ‘Exporting Rhetoric Importing Oil: United States Relations with Venezuela, 1945–1948’, World Affairs, 154 (3), 94–106. Arnold, A. J. (2001), ‘“Riches beyond the Dreams of Avarice?”: Commercial Returns on British Warship Construction, 1889–1914’, Economic History Review, 54 (2), 267–89. Barton, Jonathan (2000), ‘Struggling against Decline: British Business in Chile, 1919–33’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 32 (1), 235–64. ‘Beaver’ (1977), ‘Non-Stop Variety: Notes on a Naval Mission to China 1931–1933’, The Naval Review, 65 (2), 104–13. Brands, Hal (2008), ‘Third World Politics in an Age of Global Turmoil: The Latin American Challenge to US and Western Hegemony, 1965–1975’, Diplomatic History, 32 (1), 105–38. Broadbridge, Seymour (1977), ‘Shipbuilding and the State in Japan since the 1850s’, Modern Asian Studies, 11 (4), 601–13. Collin, Richard H. (1994),‘The Tage’s Visit to New Orleans, Mardi Gras 1903: Changing French Naval Strategy and Carnival Goodwill’, Louisiana History: The History of the Louisiana Historical Association, 35 (1), 51–66. Davidson, Rear-Admiral Bob, RCN (2008–9), ‘Modern Naval Diplomacy – A Practitioner’s View’, Journal of Military and Strategic Studies, 11 (1 and 2), 1–47. Dodds, Klaus (1994), ‘Geopolitics in the Foreign Office: British Representations of Argentina, 1945–1961’, Transactions of British Geographers, New Series, 19 (4), 273–90. —(2005), ‘The Great Trek: New Zealand and the British/Commonwealth 1955–58 Trans-Antarctic Expedition’, The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 33 (1), 93–114.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 262

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography

263

Edwards, Cdr. R. L. (1930), ‘The Navy as a Police Force’, The Naval Review, 18 (4), 696–706. Escudé, Carlos (1988), ‘Argentine Territorial Nationalism’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 20 (1), 139–65. Ferris, John (1987), ‘Treasury Control, the Ten Year Rule and British Service Policies, 1919–1924’, The Historical Journal, 30 (4), 859–83. —(1991), ‘“The Greatest Power on Earth”: Great Britain in the 1920s’, The International History Review, 13 (4), 726–50. Fielding, Jeremy (1999), ‘Coping with Decline: US Policy toward the British Defense Reviews of 1966’, Diplomatic History, 23 (4), 633–56. Gordon, Midshipman W. R., RN (1925), ‘Special Service Squadron World Cruise, November 1923 to September 1924. Being Extracts from the Diary of Midshipman W. R. Gordon’, The Naval Review, 13 (1), 108–14. Greenwood, David (1976), ‘Constraints and Choices in the Transformation of Britain’s Defence Effort since 1945’, British Journal of International Studies, 2 (1), 5–26. Hamilton, C. I. (2005), ‘British Naval Policy, Policy Makers and Financial Control, 1860–1945’, War in History, 12 (4), 371–95. Harrington, Ralph (2003), ‘“The Mighty Hood”: Navy, Empire, War at Sea and the British National Imagination, 1920–60’, Journal of Contemporary History, 38 (2), 171–85. Healy, David (1976), ‘Admiral William B. Caperton and United States Naval Diplomacy in South America, 1917–1918’, Journal of Latin-American Studies, 8 (2), 297–323. Heitman, Helmoed-Romer (1985), ‘Training in the Chilean Navy’, Navy International, 93 (2), 94–9. Hilton, Stanley E. (1982), ‘The Armed Forces and Industrialists in Modern Brazil: The Drive for Military Autonomy (1889–1954)’, The Hispanic American Historical Review, 62 (4), 629–73. Hove, Mark T. (2007), ‘The Arbenz Factor: Salvador Allende, US-Chilean Relations, and the 1954 US Intervention in Guatemala, Diplomatic History, 31 (4), 623–63. Howkins, Adrian (2006), ‘Icy Relations: The Emergence of South American Antarctica during the Second World War’, Polar Record, 42 (221), 153–65. Hurrell, Andrew (1983), ‘The Politics of South Atlantic Security: A Survey of Proposals for a South Atlantic Treaty Organization’, International Affairs, 59 (2), 179–93. Jarpa, Rear-Admiral Sergio G., Chilean Navy (1990), ‘The Defense of Shipping off South America’, Naval War College Review, 43 (3), 62–76, ‘J.S.S.L’ (1975), ‘Royal Naval Occasions’, The Naval Review, 63 (3), 217–24. Kennedy, Gregory C. (1994), ‘Britain’s Policy-Making Elite, the Naval Disarmament Puzzle, and Public Opinion, 1927–1932’, Albion: A Quarterly Journal Concerned with British Studies, 26 (4), 623–44. Lambert, Nicholas A. (2004), ‘Transformation and Technology in the Fisher Era: The Impact of the Communications Revolution’, Journal of Strategic Studies, 27 (2), 272–97.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 263

04/12/2013 08:14

264 Bibliography Lane, Ann (2003), ‘Third World Neutralism and British Cold War Strategy’, Diplomacy & Statecraft, 14 (3), 151–74. Lewin, Admiral Sir Terence, RN (1978), ‘A Very Good Run for Your Money’, Navy International, 83 (8), 8–10. Livermore, Seward W. (1944), ‘Battleship Diplomacy in South America: 1905–1925’, The Journal of Modern History, 16 (1), 31–48. Martin, Laurence (1985), ‘The Use of Naval Forces in Peacetime’, Naval War College Review, 38 (1), 4–14. McNulty, Commander James F., USN (1974), ‘Naval Presence – The Misunderstood Mission’, Naval War College Review, 27 (2), 21–31. Meneses, Emilio C. (1991), ‘Maintaining a Regional Navy with Very Limited Resources, 1900–1990’, Defense Analysis, 7 (4), 345–62. Middeke, Michael (2001), ‘Britain’s Global Military Role, Conventional Defence and Anglo-American Interdependence after Nassau’, Journal of Strategic Studies, 24 (1), 143–64. Moore, Jason Kendall (2001), ‘Maritime Rivalry, Political Intervention and the Race to Antarctica: US-Chilean Relations, 1939–1949’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 33 (4), 713–38. Nunn, Frederick M. (1970), ‘A Latin American State within the State: The Politics of the Chilean Army, 1924–27’, The Americas, 27 (1), 40–55. Peters, John (1973), ‘Defence Sales and the Naval Sales Division 1966–1970’, The Naval Review, 62 (3), 254–65. Pollard, Sidney (1952), ‘Laissez-Faire and Shipbuilding’, The Economic History Review, New Series, 5 (1), 98–115. Porcile, Gabril (1995), ‘The Challenge of Cooperation: Argentina and Brazil, 1939–1955’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 27 (1), 129–59. Reynolds, David (1997), ‘Naval Scene’, Warship World, 5 (12), 4–7. Rooney, Chris B. (1998), ‘The International Significance of British Naval Missions to the Ottoman Empire, 1908–1914’, Middle Eastern Studies, 34 (1), 1–29. Roy, Raj (2004), ‘No Secrets between “Special Friends”: America’s Involvement in British Economic Policy, October 1964 – April 1965’, History, 89 (295), 399–423. Sahni, Varun (1993), ‘Not Quite British: A Study of External Influences on the Argentine Navy’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 25 (3), 489–513. Salas, Miguel Tinker (2005), ‘Staying the Course: United States Oil Companies in Venezuela, 1945–58’, Latin American Perspectives, 32 (2), 147–70. Sater, William F. (1980), ‘The Abortive Kronstadt: The Chilean Naval Mutiny of 1931’, The Hispanic American Historical Review, 60 (2), 239–68. ‘Seamaster’ (1962), ‘Turn on the Heat’, The Naval Review, 50 (2), 139–43. Smith, Joseph (1981), ‘American Diplomacy and the Naval Mission to Brazil, 1917–30’, Inter-American Economic Affairs, 35 (1), 73–91. Somervell, Philip (1984), ‘Naval Affairs in Chilean Politics, 1910–1932’, Journal of Latin American Studies, 16 (2), 381–401.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 264

04/12/2013 08:14

Bibliography

265

Thursfield, H. G. (1936), ‘The London Naval Treaty’, The Naval Review, 24 (2), 259–77. Till, Geoffrey (2005), ‘Holding the Bridge in Troubled Times: The Cold War and the Navies of Europe’, The Journal of Strategic Studies, 28 (2), 309–27. Tromben, Captain Carlos, Chilean Navy (2006), ‘Contributions of US Naval Educational Centers to the Development of the Chilean Navy in Relation to Naval Operations and Industry’, International Journal of Naval History, 5 (2), 2–15. ‘Uitlander’ (1947), ‘The Navy and the Royal Visit to South Africa’, The Naval Review, 35 (2), 97–105. Unwin, Commander P. J., RN (1976), ‘Brazil: A Maritime Role in the South Atlantic’, Navy International, 82 (10), 4–6. Vego, Milan (2008), ‘On Naval Power’, Joint Forces Quarterly, 50 (3), 8–17. Vinock, Captain Eli, USN (1984), ‘UNITAS: A South American Perennial’, United States Naval Institute Proceedings, 10 (7), 124–6. Walters, William D. Jr. (2000), ‘American Naval Shipbuilding, 1890–1989, Geographical Review, 90 (3), 418–31. Internet articles Codner, Michael (2009), ‘“Defining Deterrence”: Framing Deterrence in the 21st Century’. Pre-Conference Note, Royal United Services Institute, 1–10. http://www. rusi.org/downloads/assets/Defining_Deterrence_-_A_Pre-Conference_Note.pdf/ (accessed 17 September 2013). Daddow, Oliver (2010), ‘Dodging the Bullet and Ducking the Question: British Defence Policy and its Post-Imperial World Role’, The Royal United Services Institute Military and Policy Series III. http://www.rusi.org/analysis/commentary/ ref:C4C6D0795721B3/#.UjiL8–3aM-M (accessed 17 September 2013). United Kingdom official government reports The Inter-Service Working Party on the Size and Shape of the Armed Forces (1948). The Chiefs of Staff Global Strategy Paper (1952). Defence White Paper: Defence: Outline of Future Policy (1957). United States official government reports US Naval Attaché Report (1947): ‘War Plan – Chile’. Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) Report (1949): ‘The Standardization-of-Arms Program in the Western Hemisphere’. National Security Council Report to the President (1950): ‘United States Policy towards Inter-American Collaboration’. CIA Report (1952): ‘Conditions and Trends in Latin America Affecting US Security’. Department of State Report (1952): ‘Latin America and US Policy’. Newspapers New York Times, 24 November 1936, 20 November 1938.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 265

04/12/2013 08:14

266 Bibliography South China Morning Post, 24 June 1997. Time Magazine, 15 December 1941, 2 January 1961. Unpublished dissertations Collins, Harold H. (1991), ‘The United States and Brazil: A Naval Partnership for the Twenty-First Century?’, Masters Thesis, Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, California. Available online at http://oai.dtic.mil/oai/oai?verb=getRecord&metadata Prefix=html&identifier=ADA242430 (accessed 17 September 2013). Tromben, Captain Carlos, Chilean Navy (2010), ‘The Chilean Mutiny of 1931’. PhD Thesis, Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, Centre of Maritime Historical Studies, University of Exeter.

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 266

04/12/2013 08:14

Index ‘ABC’ (Argentina, Brazil, Chile) cruiser 162 naval powers 148, 149 Acción Democrática Party (AD) 156 Acheson, D., United States Secretary of State 146 Admiralty (British) 4, 5, 13, 16, 20, 25, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 34, 39, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 52, 61, 62, 63, 65, 70, 72, 84, 85, 87, 89, 90, 93, 103, 106, 118, 119, 126, 137, 200, 201 Board 4, 31, 63, 65, 71, 89, 131, 177 Naval Staff 28, 39, 47, 52–3, 62–3, 65, 77–8, 85, 88, 106, 170, 205 Africa 177 Agar, Captain A. RN 17 Alessandri, J., President of Chile 101, 132, 135 Alexander, A. V., First Lord, Admiralty 50 Allard, Vice-Admiral J., Commander-inChief Chilean Navy 108 Alliance for Progress (US) 169, 180 Altham, E., Captain 87 Anglo-Brazilian naval cooperation 59 Anglo-Brazilian naval relationship 56 Anglo-Chilean naval association 104, 106 Anglo-Chilean naval partnership 59, 68, 87 Anglo-Chilean naval relationship 60, 136 Anglo-German naval race 34 Anglo-German naval rivalry 19 Anglo-German Naval Treaty (1937) 230n. 37 Ansaldo, Italian shipbuilding company 108, 110, 121, 122, 157 Antarctic(a) 113, 121, 123–4, 127, 129, 133, 141, 202 Territories 116, 121, 123–4 ANZUK, Australia, New Zealand and UK Alliance 204 Aram, B. 156

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 267

Argentina 34–7, 55, 60–2, 94–8, 109, 110, 112–13, 115–16, 119, 123, 124, 125, 127, 129, 131–4, 136, 141, 144, 147, 149, 150, 151, 162, 164, 167, 177, 180, 182, 184, 185, 191, 195 Air Force 131 Minister of Marine 64 Naval Academy 61 Navy 61, 94–5, 97–8, 100, 109, 115, 125, 131, 195, 201 peso 42 warships (by class) Rivadavia 37, 94 Vienticinco de Mayo 95 warships (by name) General Belgrano 149 Independencia 132, 136 La Argentina 41, 99 Armstrong, W. G., Chairman W. G. Armstrong Ltd. 32 Arnold, A. J. 32–3 Attlee C., British Prime Minister 119, 203 Australasia 177 Baillie-Gromann, Captain H. RN 26 Barclay, G. 42 Barrow-in-Furness (England) 33, 48, 98, 121, 123 Barton, J. 44 Battle of the Falklands (1914) 64 Battle of Jutland 59 Battle of Trafalgar 19 Beagle Channel 182 Beatty, Lord D. RN 64 Beira Patrol Ship 204 Bell, C. 15, 47, 49, 62, 130 Bergen Polar Conference (1938) 124 Berlin 55 Bermuda 85, 125 Bevin, E., British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 125 Board of Overseas Trade 50

04/12/2013 08:14

268 Index Board of Trade 51, 62–3, 120, 122–3, 137, 176, 184, 200 Bofors, Swedish armaments company 72–4 Booth, K. 12 Bowers, C., US Ambassador to Chile 115, 158 Brading, Lieutenant-Commander H. RN 100, 101 Brands, H. 166 Brazex ’75 197, 250n. 17 Brazil 34–7, 41, 54, 55, 58, 62, 64, 94–5, 109–13, 121–2, 133, 142, 145–7, 150–5, 164, 166, 167, 177–9, 181, 182, 185, 186, 190, 191, 197 Government 55, 56, 58, 135, 163 Government personnel see individual names Minister of Marine 54, 109 Minister of the Navy 186 Naval Building Programme 35 Naval Staff 153, 185 Navy 36, 58, 109, 197 warships (by class) Acre 111 Marcilio Dias 111 Niteroi or Type 10 185–6 warships (by name) Humaita 110 Minas Gerais (1908) 35, 56 Minas Gerais (1944) 133, 155 Sâo Paulo 35, 56 Britain (British) Defence Estimates (1947–48/1949–50) 120 Defence Review (1966) 70 Defence Review (1998) 14 Defence Sales Organisation 186 Government 32, 59, 66, 125, 128, 132, 136, 157, 187, 190 government personnel see individual names Legislation Armaments Procurement Act (1908) 35 Naval Defence Act (1889) 33, 215n. 62 Naval Procurement Act (1926) 95 Trade Facilities Act (1921) 50

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 268

shipbuilders 34, 50, 184 shipbuilding companies Armstrong 33, 35, 37 Cammell-Laird 95, 98, 185, 191–3 Fairfield 33, Hawthorn-Leslie 51, 95 J. Samuel White (also J. S. White) 48, 95, 137 John Brown (formerly Clydebank Engineering) 33, 98 Palmers 33 Scotts 48, 95 Swan Hunter 185 Thornycroft (later Vosper Thornycroft) 51, 72, 185 Vickers-Armstrong (also Vickers) 33, 35, 41, 47–8, 50–1, 58, 72, 73, 98, 100, 104, 121, 123, 134, 157, 158, 186 Yarrow 37, 51, 137 British Guiana (later Guyana) 128, 191–2 Brook, P. 33 Brown, C. Captain RN 24 Buenos Aires (Argentina) 55, 64, 95, 97, 127, 131, 132, 164, 180 Burke, Admiral A. USN 150 Burrows, Sir B., British Chairman Joint Intelligence Committee 176 Cabinet (British) 50, 119, 169, 201 Export of Warships and War Material Committee 50 Finance Committee 61 Cable, J. 11–12 Callaghan, J., British Prime Minister 196 Cape Horn 2, 18, 80, 100, 101, 124, 125, 129 Caperton, Admiral W. USN 55, 56, 57, 58 Carrington, P., British Secretary of State for Defence 203 Cary, M., Second Permanent Under Secretary of State (Royal Navy) 174–6 Cave, N., Managing Director Cammell Laird 191 Cavendish-Bentinck, V., British Ambassador to Chile 102–5, 107 Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) 144, 156 Chalfont, Lord A., British Minister of

04/12/2013 08:14

Index State Foreign and Commonwealth Office 191–2 Chamberlain, A., British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 63–4 Chatfield, Admiral Lord E. RN 206 Chen, Vice-Admiral S. K., Vice-Minister Chinese Navy 26 Chile 34–5, 38, 43, 45, 58–60, 62, 66, 68, 69, 71–3, 75, 76, 78, 83–7, 89, 90, 94, 95, 98–9, 102, 104–9, 112, 115–18, 123–5, 127, 129, 132, 135, 141–2, 145–7, 149, 151, 152, 158–61, 163–4, 167, 178, 179, 181–2, 184, 185, 189, 190, 195 Air Force 81, 147 Army 74 Director General of the Navy 75, 101 Escuela Naval 161 Government 69, 136, 191 government personnel see individual names Minister for Foreign Affairs 84 naval building programme 59 Naval Council 118 Naval Mission in London 72–4 Naval Mutiny (1931) 79, 81, 101 Naval Staff 68, 79, 100, 160 Naval War College 68, 79, 118 Navy 59–60, 67, 69, 71, 73–8, 82, 83, 88–90, 100, 102, 105–8, 111, 113, 117, 136, 149, 159–60, 162, 181, 189 warship (by class), Almirante 123, 135 warships (by name) Almirante Cochrane 59, 60 Almirante Latorre (or Latorre) 2, 59, 60, 68, 77, 80, 81, 83, 87, 90, 100 Almirante Saldanha 4 Araucano 73 Barquedano 111 Hyatt 87 O’Higgins 80 China 50, 54 Chinese Government 50 Churchill, W., British Prime Minister (also Chancellor of the Exchequer) 47, 127, 130, 203 Codner, M. 12

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 269

269

Cold War 159, 166, 178, 194 Collins, R. 19 Colombia 112–13, 145–7, 149, 164, 177, 179, 191 Constanza (Romania) 28–9 Coquimbo (Chile) 80–2 Couyoumdjian, J. 43, 45 Cuba 145, 163–4 Curzon, Lord G., British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 25, 27, 62 Daddow, O. 203 Dalton, H. MP 75 Dancer, A. 41 Davidson, Rear-Admiral R. RCN 11, 12 Deception Island (Antarctica) 115–16, 126–9 Denmark 104 Department of Overseas Trade (British) 46 Devonport Dockyard, (England) 59, 60, 77, 81, 87 Dockrill, S. 116 Dodds, K. 124, 129 Dominican Republic 147 Domville, Lieutenant-Commander A. RN 68 Dorman-Smith, Commander V. RN 84 Drake Passage 129, 131 Dreyer, Vice-Admiral F. RN 85 Duke of Edinburgh, The 182, 190 ‘east of Suez’ 170, 171, 190, 201–5 Ecuador 122, 145, 164, 179, 184 Ecuadorian Navy 122 Eden A., British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 117 Edgerton, D. 117 Electric Boat, United States shipbuilding company 37, 163 El Mercurio, Chilean newspaper 108, 115 Elswick (England) 32, 35, 59 English, A. 60 Escude, C. 61 Estonia 27, 99 Estonian Navy 27 Falkland Islands 94, 96–8, 113, 116, 121, 124, 125, 127, 129, 131, 141, 182, 196, 197

04/12/2013 08:14

270 Index Falkland Islands Dependencies (FID) 124, 126, 129 Falklands War 7, 149, 151, 195, 205 Fermandois, J. 43, 168 Ferris, J. 6, 46, 47, 71 Fielding, J. 202 Finland 27, 104–5 Fisher, Rear-Admiral W. RN 15, 24, 30, 53, 69, 87, 159, 190 Fleet Air Arm 70 Fore River, United States shipbuilding company 36 Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) 181, 184, 192, 203, 204, 206 Foreign Office (FO) 5, 25, 27, 29, 34, 39, 45, 52, 62, 63, 68, 69, 70, 72, 84–6, 89, 96, 97, 103–6, 118, 119, 122, 123, 126, 127, 132, 135, 137, 139, 174, 176, 180, 181, 192, 200 American Department 103, 133 Foreign Secretary (Minister of State for Foreign Affairs) 6, 25, 85 Fotakis, Z. 24–5 France 19, 25, 35–6, 51, 59, 61, 70, 103, 104, 112, 122, 158, 161, 163, 184, 186, 193 Navy 2, 37 warships (by name) Tage 19 Tourville 2 Freedman, L. 96, 196 Frei, E., President of Chile 136, 168 Friedman, N. 123 Frȍdden, Commander C., Chilean Navy Minister of Marine 76 Gallegos R. 156 Garnons-Williams, Commander G. RN 75–6 Geddes Committee (British) 62 Georgetown (British Guiana/Guyana) 128 Germany 45, 54, 56, 60, 104, 186 East-Asiatic Fleet 64 High Seas Fleet 24 Navy 19, 99 warships (by class) Deutschland 99, 102 Kȍln 185, 186, 249n. 52 warships (by name)

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 270

Admiral Graf Spee 113 Dresden 60 Emden 54 Karlsruhe (1912) 64 Karlsuhe (1927) 86, 113 Glade, W. 42 Godfrey, Admiral J. N. RN 23, 31 Good Neighbour Policy 19, 33, 111, 143, 144 Gordon, A. 46 Gordon, G. A. H 47 Gordon, Midshipman W. R. RN 20 Gough, B. 5, 6 Gower Captain J. RN 161–2 Graham Land (Antarctica) 124–6 ‘Great White Cruise’ 18, 212n. 22 Greece 24–5 Greek Navy 24, 50 Grove, E. 12, 137, 170 Guyana see British Guiana Halifax, Lord E., British Ambassador to the United States of America 117 Hamilton, C. I. 5 Hampshire, E. 171, 202 Hankey, H., British Head of Foreign Office America Department 133 Hart-Dyke, Captain D. RN 7 Harrington, R. 21 Harwood, Commodore H. RN 105 Healey, D., British Secretary of State for Defence 170, 173 Healy, D. 55 Heath, E., British Prime Minister 203 Hemisphere Defense Policy 116 Henderson, A., British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 29 Henderson, Admiral R. RN 29–30 Hendrix, H. 18 Hilton, S. 152 Hong Kong 22 Hong Kong Guardship 204 Hope Bay (Antarctica) 127 Horven, Captain A. Chilean Navy 80–1 House of Commons 49, 75 House of Lords 206 Hurrell, A. 152 Ibáñez, C., President of Chile 80, 83

04/12/2013 08:14

Index Italy 103, 104, 105, 110 Government 101 Navy 51, 110 warship (by class), Trento 95, 110 Jackson, A. 202 Jackson, Commander, later Captain W. L. RN 53, 78, 84 James, Admiral W. RN 4 Japan 26, 34, 46–7, 71, 104, 138, 205 Jarpa, S. 152 Jellicoe, Admiral Lord J. RN 18, 20 Jimenéz, P. President of Venezuela 157–8 John Briscoe, survey ship 126 Johnman, L. 33 Johnston, I. 33 Kennedy, G. 206 Kennedy, P. 201 Kerr, Rear-Admiral M. RN 24 Korean War 120, 147, 154 Krupp, German armaments company 74, 104 Kuss, H. 183 Labour Government (1964) 169, 170 Labour Government (1974) 195 Lane, A. 205 Lane-Poole, Commodore R. RN 86, 90 Laurie Island (Antarctica) 96, 97 Leahy. Admiral D. USN 160 Lewin, Admiral T. RN 170, 203, 205, 206 Lewis, Vice Admiral A. RN 182–3, 186, 189 Lima (Peru) 58, 135 Limpus, Admiral A. RN 25 Littledale, Commander RN 27 Livermore, S. 35 Lloyd, S. 132, 135 London (England) 4–5, 55–7, 63, 70, 72, 74, 84, 102, 104 London Naval Treaty see Second London Naval Treaty (1936) Luce, Admiral D. RN 171 Luttwak, E. 11–12, 17 MacDonald, R., British Prime Minister 49 McKercher, B. 44 McNulty, Commander J. USN 12

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 271

271

Marshall, G., United States Secretary of State 119 Martin, L. W. 10 Mason, F., British Ambassador to Chile 190 Mayhew, C., British Minister of the State for the Navy 171 Mediterranean Fleet 6, 24, 28, 63, 65–6, 72, 193 Meneses, E. 101, 159 Merino, Admiral J., Chief of Naval Staff, Chilean Navy 100, 105–6, 160 Merrill, Commander A. USN 108 Messersmith, G., United States Consul General 89 Mexico 110 Middendorf II, J. 151 Miller, R. 44, 90 Ministry of Defence (MoD) 137, 167, 169, 172, 173, 176, 179, 180, 184, 192, 196, 200, 201, 204, 245n. 6 Monroe Doctrine (US) 18, 36, 37, 57, 142–3, 148 Montero, J., President of Chile 84 Montt, Admiral J. Chilean Navy 74 Morris, M. 168 Muñoz, H. 168 Murphy, H. 33 Naval Review, The, Royal Navy Journal 77, 178 Netherlands 104, 105 New York 44, 56 Norris, Admiral D. RN 25 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) 151, 170, 203, 206 Nunn, F. 74 Olavarria, A., Chilean Minister for Foreign Affairs 115, 127, 235n. 45 ‘one power standard’ 3, 209n. 4 Operation Corporate (1982) 197 Organisation of American States (OAS) 127 Pactos de Mayo (1902) 42 Panama Canal 67, 151 Pearl Harbor 112 Peden, G. C. 138, 170 Pegram, Commander F. RN 77–8

04/12/2013 08:14

272 Index People’s Progressive Party (PPP), British Guiana 128 Perón, J., President of Argentina 124, 131, 144 Persia 25 Peru 34, 58, 62, 99, 113, 132, 135, 145–7, 163, 164, 178, 179, 184–5, 190, 191 Government 59 Navy 58 warship (by class), Almirante Grau 58 Peters, J., Head of Naval Defence Sales 183 Phillips, Captain T. RN 86 Phythian, M. 173 Pinochet, A., President of Chile 195 Plan Centenario 59–60 Platt, D. C. M. 34 Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax, Vice-Admiral R. RN 86 Poland 28 Pollard, S. 32 Porta, Admiral F. Chilean Navy 189 Port Stanley (Falkland Islands) 97, 196 Portugal 51 Prince of Wales, The (later Edward VIII) 20, 22, 105, 190 Puerto Belgrano (Argentina) 97, 178 Punta Arenas (Chile) 115 Queen Elizabeth II 168, 181, 182, 190 Recife (Brazil) 154 Reckner, J. 18 Reyes, S. 67 Reynolds, D. 44 Rio Conference 144 Rio de Janeiro (Brazil) 55, 112 Robertson, M., British Ambassador to Argentina 64, 96–7 Rodger, N. 88 Rogers, Rear-Admiral C. Chilean Navy 90 Romania 28–30 Rooney, C. 25 Roosevelt, F. President United States of America 111, 143, 145, 194 Roosevelt, T. President United States of America 18

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 272

Roskill, S. 63, 70, 106 Royal Air Force (RAF) 70, 170, 171 Royal Air Force aircraft Buccaneer 2* 171 F–111 171 Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) 177 Royal Fleet Auxiliary ships Olwen 190 Tidepool 195 Royal Marines 115 Royal Naval College, Greenwich 25, 69 Royal Navy America and West Indies (A&WI) Squadron 2, 4, 65, 66, 67, 79, 85, 89, 130 America and West Indies Station 116, 141, 193 China Station 26 Director of Naval Intelligence, (DNI) 15, 16, 62, 69, 70, 71, 88, 96 Naval Deployment (1962) 178 Naval Deployment (1964) 175, 176, 177, 179, 183, 205 Naval Intelligence Division (NID) 23 Naval Group Operating (or Group Deployment) Policy 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207 Naval Mission to Chile (First) 68, 73 Naval Mission to Chile (Second) 76 Naval Mission to China 27 Naval Mission to Greece 25 Naval Mission to Persia 26 Naval Mission to Romania 28 Naval Sales Division 179, 184 Naval ‘Special Service’ Squadron (1910 and 1923) 20, 21, 36 Naval ‘Special Squadron’ Deployments (1962 and 1964) 177 Naval Western Squadron Deployment (1969) 181, 182, 186, 190, 193, 195, 205 North America and West Indies Squadron 65 personnel see individual names South Africa and South America Squadron 181 South American Division, America and West Indies Squadron 4, 12, 66, 85, 89, 93, 97, 105, 113

04/12/2013 08:14

Index South American Light Cruiser Squadron 6 South American Squadron 62, 65 South Atlantic Naval Station 130 South Atlantic Squadron 22 warships (by class) Arethusa 98 Ceylon 132, 135 Daring 185 Fiji 107, 123 ‘G’ (destroyer) 98 ‘H’ (destroyer) 111 Leander 137, 164, 178, 182, 189 ‘O’ (submarine, 1928) 73 Oberon 182, 186 Porpoise 158 Scott 95 Southampton 107 Type 21 185, 196 Type 42 (destroyer) 196 Type 42 (frigate) 185, 249n. 52 warships (by name): Ajax 41, 123, 125, 234n. 26 Arethusa 189 Ark Royal (1950) 197 Ashanti 196 Bigbury Bay 128 Britannia (Royal Yacht) 22, 186, 190 Canada 59, 68 Caradoc 1, 2, 3, 7, 182, 189 Centaur 136, 137, 184 Colombo 75 Corsair 121 Cumberland 54 CVA–01 (Queen Elizabeth Class aircraft carrier 1966) 169, 171, 201, 246n. 8 Danae 186 Dauntless 90 Delhi 58, 97 Dreadnought (1960) 196 Durban 85–6, 90 Eagle (1918) 59 Endurance 195 Eskimo 196 Exeter 8, 100, 105 Glasgow 64 Hampshire 189

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 273

273

Hood 20–1 Jaguar 181, 205 Jamaica 125 Leopard 178 Londonderry 178 Naiad 186 New Zealand 18, 20 Renown 20 Repulse 20, 190 Snipe 126 Sparrow 126 SRN–6 (hovercraft) 189 Superb 125 Vanguard 21–2 Vengeance 122, 133, 155 Warrior (1944) 132, 134 York 89 Royal Tour to South Africa (1947) 21 Ruger, J. 18 Rusk, D., United States Secretary of State 136 Sahni, V. 61 Sandys, D., British Secretary of State for Defence 131 Santiago (Chile) 60, 72, 73, 75, 76, 81, 101, 102, 107, 111, 127, 132, 135, 136, 158, 160 Sater, W. 76, 80, 82 Scheina, R. 98, 109, 149, 151, 157, 165 Schneider-Creusot, French shipbuilding company 58 Schroeder, Vice-Admiral J. Chilean Navy 75 Scott, J. D. 32, 73 ‘Scribes, The’ 6 SEACAT, guided missile 181 ‘Seamaster’ 178 Sea Wolf, guided missile 196 Second London Naval Treaty (1936) 46, 49, 93, 102, 104–6, 108, 111, 112 Simon’s Town 130 Simonstown Agreement (1975) 197 Slaven, A. 138 Smith, Admiral H. RN 6 Smith, J. 54, 56, 58 Solomon, L., Director Finance Division 3 (Royal Navy) 179, 180, 200 Somervell, P. 81, 83

04/12/2013 08:14

274 Index South Africa 21, 130 South African Navy 22 South American Dreadnought Race 32, 35, 37, 38 South China Morning Post, Hong Kong newspaper 22 South Georgia 94, 96 South Orkney Island Group 96 South Shetland Island Group 94, 113, 115, 124, 125, 129 Spithead Review (1902) 19 Spoerer, Rear-Admiral E. Minister of Marine, Chilean Navy 83 Stoker, D. 27 Stokes, D. 173, 174 Stokes Committee 184 Stokes Report 174 Straits of Magellan 160 Strategic Exports (Official) Committee 173, 181, 184 ‘suasion’ 11, 17, 211n. 4 Sweden 104–5 Swedish Government 72 Tacna and Arica Treaty (1929) 43 Taffet, J. 168 Tait, Captain W. RN 58, 97, 109 Talcahuano (Chile) 75, 81, 89 Thatcher, M., British Prime Minister 193 Thompson, Commander RN 29 Thornycroft, P., British Secretary of State for Defence 173 Till, G. 13, 14, 71, 205, 206 Time Magazine, United States journal 151 Times, The, London newspaper 56, 115 Tomlin, Captain G. RN 68 Torres, Captain C. Chilean Navy 100–1 Treasury 6, 13, 20, 28, 29, 30, 46, 47, 50, 62, 63, 70, 78, 123, 136, 137, 170, 178, 180, 181, 184, 200 Export Credit Guarantee Department 122, 137, 180, 248n. 40 Treaty of Ancón (1883) 43 Tripartite Naval Declaration (TND) 115, 125, 126 Trinidad 151 Tromben, C. 60, 80, 81, 83 Troncoso, Captain Chilean Navy 101 Trucco, M. 80

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 274

Truman, H., President United States of America 143, 144, 147, 239n. 4 Turkey 25 Turkish Navy 50 UNITAS 142, 150, 151, 166, 181, 194, 241n. 27 United States of America (USA) 35–6, 45, 54–5, 59, 62, 63, 73, 90, 94, 99, 104, 107–9, 112, 113, 116, 119, 121, 123, 132–3, 135, 142, 144, 146, 152–4, 156, 160–3, 165, 167, 169, 172, 184, 186, 190, 194 Congress 142, 145, 164, 166, 185, 195 Department of Defense 155, 163 Government 119, 134, 145 government personnel see individual names Inter-American Defense Board 112, 143 Inter-American Peace Force 166 Inter-American Reciprocal Assistance Treaty or Rio Treaty (1947) 143, 145 Joint Chiefs of Staff 158, 163 Legislation Mutual Defense Assistance Act, MDAA (1947) 111, 142, 143, 148, 149, 194 Mutual Defence Assistance Plan, MDAP (1949) 154–5, 162, 163, 166 Surplus Property Act (1944) 160 Mutual Aid Scheme 185 Naval Academy, Annapolis 147 naval mission(s) 56, 58, 62, 110 naval mission to Brazil 58 Naval Planning Committee 57 Naval War College, Monterey 147, 161 Navy 12, 18, 53, 57, 63, 97, 118, 122, 142, 147, 150, 151, 159, 161, 162, 164, 165 Navy Board 63 Navy Department 58, 164, 165, 185 State Department 36, 56, 133, 134, 155, 160 warships (by class) Balao 158 Bronstein 185

04/12/2013 08:14

Index Brooklyn 148 Cleveland 153 Independence 153, 154 Fletcher 155, 165 Nevada 153 New Orleans 109 Northampton 109 Omaha 110 St Louis 154 Western Hemisphere Defence Policy 111 Uruguay 145, 150, 163, 164, 179 Uruguayan Government 55 Valparaiso (Chile) 1, 7, 38, 67, 74, 75, 76, 77, 83, 84, 85, 100, 101, 122, 125, 161, 181, 189, 190, 195 Vansittart, Sir R., British Permanent Under-Secretary of State at the Foreign Office 85 Vargas G., President of Brazil 111 Venezuela 121, 134, 142, 145, 149, 150, 152, 156, 157, 158, 159, 164, 185, 191 Navy 157, 158, 191

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 275

275

warship (by class), Nueva Esparta 157 Videla, G., President of Chile 125, 160 Vietnam War 168, 202 Vigo, M. 11, 12 Vinock, E. 150 Vivian, Captain J. RN 17 Vogelgesang, Rear-Admiral C. USN 109 Walters, W. 36 Ward, Admiral C., Chilean Navy 74 Washington (DC) 55, 56, 58, 89, 109–11, 117, 132, 134–5, 137, 142–3, 148, 150, 153–4, 157, 159, 163, 168, 194 Washington Naval Treaty (1922) 46–9, 52, 65, 75, 83, 102, 110 Watson, Vice Admiral D. RN 177 Wettern, D. 178 Wiley, J. 144 Williams, Admiral H. RN 25 Wilson, H., British Prime Minister 203 World War One 41, 43, 55, 61, 64, 68, 95 World War Two 25, 31, 83, 107, 112–13, 142, 146, 158–9 Zumwalt, Admiral E. USN 12

04/12/2013 08:14

9781441149022_txt_print.indd 276

04/12/2013 08:14