In September 2014, BBC released a reportdetailing future low-cost fighters, headlined “The low-cost fighters to serve tomorrow’s air forces.” They mention the JF-17 platform co-designed by China and Pakistan, and briefly touch on the Yak-130, developed by Russian aircraft maker Irkut Corporation.
For the rest of the 1,100 word article, it focuses exclusively on the Textron AirLand Scorpion.
Why is that?
For starters, the subsonic, twin-engine jet costs $20 million, and operating costs dial in at around $3,000 per flight hour, according to a BBC report by Russell Hotten.
For comparison, the efficient A-10 Thunderbolt II, otherwise known as the “Warthog,” costs an initial $19 million and operational costs are estimated at $17,716 per flight hour, though these numbers will vary based on year and modifications. The most expensive weapon in the U.S. military’s arsenal? Say hello to the B-2 Spirit stealth bomber, clocking in at approximately $169,000 per flight hour.
[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]
These numbers were provided by a report from the Air Force comptroller’s office, obtained by Winslow Wheeler, director of the Straus Military Reform Project. In the report, costs are listed for every airframe in the U.S. Air Force, excluding the F-35 Lightning, manufactured by Lockheed Martin, which is currently undergoing final development and testing.
While the Scorpion beats every combat aircraft listed in the report in cost-per-flight-hour, what may prove more impressive is how it was created.
“It is a clean-sheet design. No kidding, I was actually the first Textron AirLand employee,” said Bill Anderson, CEO of Textron AirLand and vice president of Military and Government Programs at Cessna. “I went out and hired people who I thought could bring real value to the design and to the team.
“A small group of us, about nine people, got together and went through the data we had, and said ‘What are we going to build?’ We did a rapid market survey, did a capability matrix, and we started designing the airplane.”
From that point on, the twin-seat jet began taking on the design the creators had in mind. Evaluating markets around the world, the compact team formed the Scorpion into a platform capable of several roles.
“(The Scorpion) morphed from a light attack airplane into a relatively large ISR (intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance) attack airplane,” Anderson said, “meaning a 21,000 plus-pound airplane (maximum take-off weight). A very unique feature is the center payload bay that has plenty of power for today’s very sophisticated avionics.”
The Scorpion has three hardpoints on each wing, and can last for seven hours on station without undergoing in-flight refueling.
But the fact the Scorpion was built from the ground up in two years raises eyebrows. By allowing creative thinking and quick decision making, Textron AirLand was able to create a state-of-the-art platform quicker than most major contractors take to decide on a design. Add the fact it was all privately financed and aforementioned eyebrows begin to furrow. Why take such a risk? According to Anderson, the time is ripe for the harvest.
“This summer, we went to nine different countries in seven weeks. We did not change one component except the tires,” Anderson said. “The international reception has been absolutely tremendous. The U.S. Air Force has taken a look at the airplane, and most recently, the U.S. Navy is seriously looking at the airplane for some very definite, good mission roles.”
While the Scorpion airframe is currently not a competitor in the Air Force’s T-X program (Anderson made very clear they are still closely monitoring new developments in that domain), Anderson pointed out the Scorpion’s high capabilities for maritime patrol.
“With its over 9,000 pounds of payload and high endurance, (the Scorpion) is ideal for maritime patrol. Most people prefer multi-engine, and the Scorpion is multi-engine. It is ideal for maritime patrol, coastal patrol and maritime surveillance.”
After the Scorpion’s performance at the Royal International Air Tattoo (RIAT) in England, the Royal Navy and Marines in requested the Scorpion to work alongside them for a week of training. According to Anderson, it allowed the program to demonstrate the high-end capability of the Scorpion alongside naval engagements.
While current markets appear favorable, Anderson is also looking long-term, analyzing future engagements and how battles are fought and won.
“There are other airplanes out there that are more expensive than the Scorpion that have higher-end aerodynamic performance, but for the mission sets that we see in today’s security environment and well into the future, we don’t really require those high-end aerodynamic performance packages.”
Anderson is not alone in this thinking of future warfare. Seth Jones, director of the International Security and Defense Policy Center at the RAND Corporation, offered testimony before the House Committee on Armed Services, Subcommittee on Emerging Threats and Capabilities.
In the hearing, he highlighted the fact that non-state actors will force us to think outside the box and change our tactics in defeating an unconventional enemy, whether it be terrorist networks operating out of Syria or drug-trafficking groups like the cartels in Mexico and in the jungles of South America.
In battling an enemy who operates within the shadows and tunnels of rough terrain and mountainous expanses, leading scholars have questioned just how effective supersonic, highly advanced jets could be, often incurring high costs of maintenance and unscheduled repairs.
In an age of counter-insurgent warfare, reliability of equipment is gold. Anderson claims to have a trove of it.
“One of the top selling features is exceptionally high reliability,” said Anderson. “So how do you build in high reliability? You use known components. Our reliability, and we’ve accumulated more than 500 flight hours on the airframe, is over 98 percent.”
Anderson is referring to the readiness rate of an aircraft, which essentially means how quickly and efficiently the aircraft can respond to testing, training or an actual mission requirement.
For comparison, the U.S. Marine Corps has run into a snag concerning aircraft readiness, reporting that 19 percent of its inventory was not available for use, according to a Reuters report in April 2015.
An aircraft unavailable, whether due to unscheduled repairs or maintenance, means an acquired target escapes, a hostage waits longer in captivity, or a suspicious vessel eludes authorities.
While the Scorpion has proven it has the right stuff, the trickier part will be selling it. One only has to think of the F-20 Tigershark to cringe at the thought of marketing privately financed military aircraft. In its struggled bid for the fighter contract in the 1980s, the F-5 successor lost out to the more expensive, and flashier, F-16 Fighting Falcon. The RAND Corporation called the F-20 program a marketing failure.
At that point, the axe-wielding Gimli of Lord of the Rings would say “you’ll find more cheer in a graveyard.”
But the team at Textron AirLand has done their homework, and Anderson is confident the interest in the Scorpion will build as time goes on. Already, the production-conforming airframe of the Scorpion is being completed, and discussions with serious buyers are ongoing, according to Anderson.
“With the long endurance (of the Scorpion) for ISR, it being ideal for maritime patrol, and ability to strike a target all from the same airplane, that’s pretty incredible,” said Anderson. “It’s a unique capability, all at a very, very attractive cost point.
“I would say it was a bit of a gamble…a smart gamble.”
David Van Dyk is a graduate of Liberty University with a Bachelor’s of Science in Communications Studies and a member of the Lambda Pi Eta honor society. He is currently pursuing a Master’s in Public Policy with a focus in International Affairs at the Helms School of Government. He can be reached at dvandyk@liberty.edu.
[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]
“Our goal is not the victory of might but the vindication of right-not peace at the expense of freedom, but both peace and freedom, here in this Hemisphere and, we hope, around the world. God willing, that goal will be achieved.” — JFK
Such was the goal of President John F. Kennedy in the Cuban Missile Crisis on the eve of October 22, 1962 – “the vindication of right”. In the preceding months and years, signals intelligence — provided in large part by cryptologists of the Naval Security Group — revealed that the Soviet Union had been building up troops, aircraft, and air defense and missile sites in Cuba under the guise of self-defense. When intelligence indicated that the buildup was more than just defensive in nature, JFK put the Soviet Union on notice in front of a watching world.
On the brink of thermonuclear war, the President of the United States initiated a quarantine in the waters off of Cuba to intercept, search, and turn back USSR cargo vessels destined for Cuban ports. Russia responded with rhetoric of open defiance. The days that followed would prove that their bark was bigger than their bite. As early as October 23rd, U.S. Navy listening posts and direction finding stations along the Atlantic periphery collected on, and geo-located, Soviet ship-ship and ship-shore communications, indicating that the Soviet vessels had stopped or reversed course prior to reaching the ring of surface ships forming the blockade. Communications intelligence collected by naval cryptologists also provided insight into Soviet and Cuban commanders’ intentions, force alert posture and levels, and previously unidentified Soviet submarine activity. Though tensions would remain high for some time, the potential for total war between the world’s two superpowers had been averted.
Fifty years ago, the short narrative above would have said nothing of the role of signals intelligence. Today, we know more. In 1998, 35 years after the crisis, the National Security Agency declassified many documents and reports that revealed the critical role that naval cryptology played not only in defusing the crisis, but in providing Battlespace Awareness to decision makers as early as 1960 and continuing on through the end of the crisis.
Fast-forward to present day — the Navy’s Strategy for Achieving Information Dominance 2013-2017 lists Battlespace Awareness as one of its three fundamental capabilities along with Assured Command and Control and Integrated Fires. As described in the strategy, Battlespace Awareness “is the traditional mission of the Information Dominance Corps and the constituent components of meteorology, oceanography, intelligence, cryptology, communications, networks, space, and electronic warfare.”
Though the Cold War would continue for nearly three more decades — Battlespace Awareness — providing commanders with persistent surveillance of the adversary’s activities, penetrating knowledge of the USSR’s capabilities and intentions, and expertise within the electromagnetic spectrum enabled those very commanders to make informed decisions ensuring that the war did not progress from cold to hot.
*In the pages below, are short vignettes and historical documents related to the signals intelligence and cryptologic efforts which provided Commanders with time-critical Battlespace Awareness — contributing significantly to the de-escalation of one of the potentially most dangerous stand-offs in history.
History has recorded the Cuban Missile Crisis as having occurred October 16, 1962 – October 28, 1962: a total of thirteen days. October 16th being the day after photographic intelligence confirmed the existence of Soviet medium-range ballistic missiles in Cuba and October 28th being the day Khrushchev directed the dismantling, and return, of offensive weapons in Cuba. In reality, the story began long before October 1962.
Two years earlier in September 1960, communications intelligence, collected by the National Security Agency along with its three Service Cryptologic Agencies – to include the Naval Security Group, provided the first indications that Soviet arms were being transported to Cuba via multiple cargo ships. Similar reports revealed high-level visits from a Soviet arms export chief to Havana as well as the purchase of Soviet helicopters by Cuba.
In 1961, persistent surveillance would further confirm suspicions of a significant Soviet military buildup in Cuba. In February, signals intelligence indicated Cuban pilots were training in Czechoslovakia; in May, communications intelligence revealed Cuban air force personnel were learning Russian; in June, radars were being installed for possible use with artillery units…all the while Soviet cargo ships continued to dock in Cuban ports and unload their cargo under the cover of night.
Continued collection efforts by the Naval Security Group, et. al., in 1962 would paint an even clearer picture of Soviet capability and intent in Cuba. Of particular note were successes in the area of electronic intelligence. In May of 1962, electronic intelligence provided the first evidence of the use of SCAN ODD, a Soviet airborne intercept radar associated with MiG-17 and MiG-19 aircraft, in Cuba. Later in the year, electronic intelligence would provide another key development. According to the Center for Cryptologic History’s NSA and the Cuban Missile Crisis: “Human sources and photography could spot SA-2s, but signals intelligence would provide the first indicator of their operational status… NSA reported the first operation of a SPOON REST radar, associated with the SA-2. The SA-2 was operational and could shoot down a U-2. Subsequent overflights would be at risk.” The Department of Defense was not going to sit idly by while Khrushchev continued to increase his footprint in the western hemisphere.
On 16 July 1962, the Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara, directed an increase in the signals intelligence program to combat the Cuban problem. Three days later, in a Memorandum for the Secretary of the Navy, the Naval Security Group (OP-94G) was specifically directed to “realign its resources to provide greater coverage of Cuba in response to highest priority intelligence requirements.”
The memorandum recognized that such realignment would have some degree of impact on naval intelligence collection and acknowledged that loss would occur in other collection efforts. To try to mitigate this deficit, the Naval Security Group would coordinate with DIRNSA in utilizing personnel from her sister agencies — the Air Force Security Agency and the Army Security Agency – to man her stations. The memorandum also discussed several other measures by which the Naval Security Group would meet the SECDEF’s requirements:
(1) Provide an additional 20 officers and men to two undisclosed locations.
(2) Extend the interim shipborne intercept capability (USS Oxford) through approximately Dec 1962.
(3) Arrange directly with Commander, Military Sea Transportation Service (MSTS) — now known as Military Sealift Command (MSC) — for an MSTS ship to relieve USS Oxford to continue the SIGINT effort off Havana no later than 1 Dec 1962.
What most label as a crisis is more accurately described as a persistent effort against a formidable adversary over the course of two years. Such was the experience of the cryptologists of the Naval Security Group. Their round-the-clock efforts helped to ensure that the crisis was not unnecessarily prolonged beyond what most remember as thirteen days.
The USS Oxford (AG 159) was originally commissioned a Miscellaneous Auxiliary ship in July 1961 in New York. She was immediately outfitted to participate in the National Security Agency’s Technical Research Ship (TRS) program — though she would not be redesignated an Auxiliary Technical Research Ship (AGTR-1) until years later in 1964.
The Center for Cryptologic History’s Almanac 50th Anniversary Series article, “The TRS Program Part I: The Beginning,” describes perfectly the Oxford’s significant contribution to the Cuban Missile Crisis.
The Oxford was officially known as a Technical Research Ship. Its initial mission was a training cruise. This gave the crew a chance to familiarize themselves with equipment on board and to identify any problems with the newly refurbished, redesigned ship before traveling to the Middle East. Although several features were identified that required change or improvement, overall the test proved to be a great success. For example, the Oxford recorded frequencies and collected a large number of other transmissions. As the capabilities of the Oxford became clear, the list of potential targets for these ships quickly expanded to include countries all over the globe.
In August 1962, as relations between the United States and the Soviet Union over Cuba grew increasingly tense, the Oxford was diverted to the Caribbean. Its mission was to collect the communications coming out of Cuba, used by both Soviet and Cuban entities. The Oxford proved to be the largest producer of SIGINT during the Cuban Missile Crisis [emphasis added]. The communications it collected provided a great quantity of information which, when combined with the photographs from the U2 overflights, provided a very good picture of what was happening in Cuba.
USS Oxford’s success in the Cuban Missile Crisis “demonstrated the value of the TRS program” and paved the way for naval cryptology aboard future Technical Research Ships: Georgetown, Jamestown, Muller, Belmont, and Liberty.
The high frequency direction finding (HFDF) fix in the above message was one of many prosecuted by dozens of U.S. Navy, British, and Canadian direction finding stations in the Atlantic periphery on the days following the President’s initiation of a naval blockade. Matthew M. Aid, in his book, The Secret Sentry, writes:
“The two dozen or so U.S. Navy, British, and Canadian direction-finding stations ringing the Atlantic continuously monitored every radio transmission going to or from the twenty-two Soviet merchant ships approaching the Cuban quarantine line, in order to track the movements of the Russian ships… The U.S. Navy’s direction-finding stations began reporting to NSA that their tracking data indicated that some of the Russian merchant ships had stopped dead in the water, and that it seemed that at least eight of the ships had reversed course and were headed back toward Russia.”
The value in such collection is not in the finding and fixing of the ships’ positions alone, but rather in the ability ofsuch information to indicate that the ships had either stopped or reversed course. That is actionable intelligence.
Such knowledge affords key leadership the time and the ability to make informed decisions. The message above, combined with many others like it, painted a clear picture of the Soviet’s intentions to not challenge the blockade in full force.
Such is one of the primary roles of a naval cryptologist — to find and fix the adversary. The fix part of this equation is primarily accomplished via direction finding. As demonstrated, direction finding provides specific actionable intelligence to warfighters on the ground, in the air, at sea, and on our networks. It contributes directly to providing Battlespace Awareness to the operational commander. Battlespace Awareness is, amongst other things, an understanding of when, where, and how our adversary operates. This understanding, combined with persistent surveillance, penetrating knowledge, and expertise within the electromagnetic spectrum provides the commander with time and “the target acquisition and targeting solutions necessary to apply force, both kinetic and non-kinetic.”
The following is an excerpt from a previously classified letter written by Admiral Robert Dennison (CINCLANTFLT, 1960-1963) to Lieutenant General Gordon A. Blake (DIRNSA, 1962-1965) on 17 November 1962 regarding the contribution of SIGINT during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
“I should like to take this opportunity to mention the very significant contribution which SIGINT in general – and the National Security Agency in particular – have made toward support of Atlantic Command. The unique and vital intelligence made available as a result of the national SIGINT effort frequently finds its end use and final justification at the level of the Unified Commander. In the present situation SIGINT has been one of the most important single factors in supporting our operations and improving our readiness. Your fine support is much appreciated.”
DIRNSA responded: “While you mentioned NSA in particular…the Naval Security Group…deserve[s] a lion’s share of the credit for their work in the fields of collection and direct processing to our customers. I have taken the liberty of passing on your kind remarks to both NSA personnel and the Service Cryptologic Agencies as kindred elements of our SIGINT team.”
LCDR David T. Spalding is a former Cryptologic Technician Interpretive. He was commissioned in 2004 as a Special Duty Officer Cryptology (Information Warfare/1810) and currently serves as the Officer in Charge of Navy Information Operations Detachment Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii.
This is the final installment in a four-part series devoted to China’s 7 December 2014 document, putting forward her views on the Philippines’ international arbitration case on the South China Sea. Although Beijing is refusing to take part in the proceedings, as confirmed following the Court’s 29 October 2015 ruling on jurisdiction, by issuing this document, and communicating in other ways with the Court, the PRC has failed to completely stay aloof from the case. It is thus interesting to analyze China’s narrative as laid down in that document. Read Part One, Part Two, Part Three.
[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]
The South China Sea and the Arctic: contradictions in China’s posture? Beijing’s insistence on excluding non-littoral estates from the dispute furthermore clashes with Chinese policy in the Arctic, where the country seeks a voice, arguing that despite just being a (self-labeled) “quasi-Arctic state” it has a right to at the very least make its voice heard given that the region has an impact on its interests. Countries like India, Japan, and the United States, may well put forward similar views concerning the South China Sea, considering themselves to be “quasi-littoral” states given among others their dependence on Sea Lanes of Communication (SLOCs) going through it.
Incentives to delay negotiations. A number of contradictory arguments may be put forward concerning this. Those wishing to blame China may accuse Beijing of seeking to change facts on the ground first (by, for example, occupation of some features and the artificial expansion of others), before engaging in meaningful negotiations. They may also argue Beijing is waiting for the balance of naval power in the region to shift further in her favor, or for developments elsewhere in the world to weaken the resolve of non-regional actors to intervene. On the other hand, those seeking to blame the Philippines may put forward similar accusations, arguing that Manila wishes to rearm (with US and Japanese assistance) first before engaging in serious negotiations with China. These voices may also put forward the view that Manila first wishes to take the moral high ground (among other means by the international arbitration bid), secure stronger support by the United States, or draw in other interested parties like Japan. We can thus see how both sides have potential reasons not to seek a speedy start of bilateral negotiations.
China defends cooperation prior to delimitation, but it is Taiwan and Japan which have implemented the principle. Section IV is perhaps not so original, basically reiterating arguments already expounded in Section III. It still contains some paragraphs worthy of comment, though. In Paragraph 61 the text refers to the “Agreement for Joint Marine Seismic Undertaking in Certain Areas in the South China Sea” between China National Offshore Oil Corporation and Philippine National Oil Company, expanded in 2005 to “a tripartite agreement, with the participation of Vietnam Oil and Gas Corporation.” The text praises it as “a good example of the constructive efforts made by the States concerned to enhance cooperation and create conditions for a negotiated settlement of the disputes in the South China Sea,” stressing that the “maritime area covered by that agreement is within that covered in the present arbitration initiated by the Philippines.” Few would disagree that agreements like this do indeed offer an interesting path, allowing states party to a dispute to build trust while concentrating on the joint development and management of natural resources, leaving for later tricky questions of sovereignty. When we move from the realm of theory to that of practice, however, we find that such efforts involving China have not been successful. In the South China Sea, possible cooperation seems to have given way to violent competition, with oil rigs becoming “weapons” rather than symbols of cooperation. In the East China Sea, where a similar agreement was concluded with Japan, it later unraveled and has not been implemented. It is Taiwan, not China, that has actively pushed for joint management that could proceed while leaving sovereignty for later. This has resulted not only in President Ma’s East China Sea Peace Initiative, but in a fisheries agreement with Japan along these lines. Whatever the reasons, no similar agreement has been concluded and effectively implemented by the PRC.
Chinese Embassy to the Netherlands. While refusing to take part in the arbitration proceedings, China has regularly communicated with the Court, often through this Embassy.
Partial versus comprehensive solutions in territorial conflicts. It is interesting to note the position paper’s critique of Manila’s arbitration bid in Paragraph 68, which argues that “The issues presented by the Philippines for arbitration constitute an integral part of maritime delimitation between China and the Philippines” and that “The Philippines’ approach of splitting its maritime delimitation dispute with China and selecting some of the issues for arbitration, if permitted, will inevitably destroy the integrity and indivisibility of maritime delimitation and contravene the principle that maritime delimitation must be based on international law as referred to in Article 38 of the ICJ Statute and that ‘all relevant factors must be taken into account.’ This will adversely affect the future equitable solution of the dispute of maritime delimitation between China and the Philippines.” While the first sentence is just a reiteration, the second one touches upon a legitimate concern, given that any partial ruling runs the risk not only of being difficult to implement due to its non-comprehensive nature, but also of not being equitable for lack of consideration of certain factors concerning areas or aspects not included in the arbitration proceedings. This could be a reason to reject this approach. On the other hand, it could be said that history shows how countries often reach limited agreements, either because they are unable to successfully reach a comprehensive settlement, or because they prefer to start dealing with those issues where they either expect it to be easier to reach an understanding or which are more pressing. China is no stranger to this posture. The reference to equity though is important since an equitable settlement is often one involving tradeoffs, and such tradeoffs will often only be acceptable when covering a case’s full spectrum of issues.
The long shadow of history in China’s narrative against compulsory arbitration. In Section V the text demands full respect for China’s “right to freely choose the means of dispute settlement”, while defending the position that the “rejection of and non-participation in the present arbitration is solidly grounded in international law.” The stress on “consent” (76), while not amounting to any Chinese singularity, may also reflect the country’s experience with the so-called “unequal treaties.” Also important is the reference (76) to the “package deal” nature of UNCLOS, which is indeed the case, and as the text notes involved “extended and arduous negotiations” with regard to Part XV dealing with dispute settlement. The position paper insists (78) that the resulting “balance” in that Part was “a critical factor” prompting many countries to sign the convention, and again cites the Southern Bluefin Tuna Case, this time to reinforce the notion that compulsory arbitration should be restricted to cases where all parties agreed to it. The problem with this is that if all parties agree to arbitration, then there is no need for the procedure to be compulsory, and if compulsory proceedings are provided for, it is with a view to at least some cases where one or more countries may indeed oppose them. If “compulsory” arbitration could only move forward with the post-ratification consent of all parties involved, one could argue that there would be no need for UNCLOS to lay down areas where arbitration could be mandatory.
Abuse of right. Another legal principle that the text delves into (84) is that of “abuse of right”, in tandem with the above-mentioned “good faith.” These are general principles of law found, in some form or another, in most legal systems. The text cites Article 300 of UNCLOS, which lays down that “States Parties shall fulfill in good faith the obligations assumed under this Convention and shall exercise the rights, jurisdiction and freedoms recognized in this Convention in a manner which would not constitute an abuse of right,” adding that Manila has not done so by seeking to bypass Beijing’s refusal to engage in arbitration and existing agreements to settle the dispute by negotiations.
Conclusions. Beijing’s document, despite stressing that it is not a formal reply, systematically rejects all of Manila’s arguments, while summarizing China’s position. While China emphasizes the Philippines’ alleged promise to deal with the issue bilaterally, the text refers to treaties between other countries, mentions ASEAN, and touches upon the sensitive issue of Taiwan, in a reminder of how difficult it is to keep things bilateral in this corner of the world. Reading in between lines we can also see how history casts a long shadow over Beijing’s position, a position which is not always free from contradictions, for example when it defends the delay in opening up negotiations with Manila by stressing the complexities involved due to among others the large number of parties, while at the same time emphasizing her traditional stance that the dispute should be approached bilaterally. At the end of the day, it will be might (in a broad sense of the word, not necessarily limited to naval power, and in particular traditional lethal naval power), rather than right which will determine the fate of the South China Sea, but this does not mean that international law will not play a role, and hence the need to carefully follow developments in the international arbitration case initiated by the Philippines, together with rearmament and greater coordination among maritime democracies.
Alex Calvo is a guest professor at Nagoya University (Japan) focusing on security and defence policy, international law, and military history in the Indian-Pacific Ocean Region. A member of the Center for International Maritime Security (CIMSEC) and Taiwan’s South China Sea Think-Tank, he is currently writing a book about Asia’s role and contribution to the Allied victory in the Great War. He tweets @Alex__Calvo and his work can be foundhere.
[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]
The following piece by guest author Captain Gurpreet S. Khurana, PhD, was originally posted by The National Maritime Foundation,and was republished with permission. You can read it in its original form here.
The concept of ‘Common Public Good(s) at Sea’ has lately gained much traction in the context of maritime safety and security in the Afro-Asian swath of the Indo-Pacific region.[i] As the centre-of-gravity of world’s economic power shifts eastwards, the salience of this predominantly maritime-configured region is increasing, and the attendant emphasis on security and stability in its maritime domain.
[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]
One does not recall coming across a precise definition of the phrase ‘Common Public Good(s) at Sea’ (CPGS). The closest one gets is to define it is through exemplification of a navy’s ‘constabulary’ and ‘benign’ tasks at sea, ranging from counter-piracy and counter-terrorism to search and rescue (SAR), and humanitarian assistance and disaster-relief (HADR). This essay attempts to understand CPGS as a concept, examine the regional trends, and extrapolate the emerging CGPS architecture in the Indo-Pacific region.
The Concept
Most of us are familiar to the term ‘public good(s)’ used in the economic context. It draws its genesis from the renowned economist Paul Samuelson, who defined it in his 1954 paper as:
“[goods] which all enjoy in common in the sense that each individual’s consumption of such a good leads to no subtractions from any other individual’s consumption of that good.”[ii]
A ‘public good’ is, therefore, something that is a collective good sans exclusions. Further, it is not amount to a ‘zero-sum’ reckoning; in a sense that its consumption by one entity does not reduce its availability to other entities. In the maritime domain, a public good are best represented by ‘lighthouses’ that beacon weather-beaten seafarers to ports and safe waters.
Much of the world’s ocean realm wherein humans undertake multifarious maritime activities is ‘international medium’ not subject to the laws of any single country. The delivery of safety and security in such space of global commons thus becomes a logical extension of ‘public good’. Further, such ‘good’ could be extrapolated to the littoral. The watery medium provides transnational access to maritime security forces to undertake humanitarian missions during adverse contingencies on and off foreign shores. It is pertinent to note that while undertaking such benign tasks – whether at high seas or in the foreign littoral – the maritime forces perform a valuable function for their respective governments as ‘instruments of foreign policy.’ Given the above, in the contemporary context, CPGS may be defined as: ‘measures taken by the maritime security forces to meet their respective States’ international commitments towards facilitating good and lawful order in the maritime global commons, while also meeting their respective foreign policy objectives.’
It is necessary to note, however, that the maritime domain – represented by the seas and oceans of the world – constitutes the most unregulated and treacherous realm on Earth. To develop situational awareness in this domain, deliver safety and regulate activities therein presents a formidable challenge for maritime forces, including those belonging to major naval powers.
The Regional Context
In geographical terms, the Indo-Pacific region has a predominant maritime configuration. While geography has been a ‘constant’ in history, the so-called ‘rise of Asia’ and the attendant maritime-economic activity in the region has made the CPGS concept highly relevant to the regional countries and the extra-regional stakeholders. Traditionally – or at least in more recent times since the beginning of the post Cold War era – CPGS across the globe, and particularly in the Indo-Pacific region, has been provided by the maritime forces of the United States (US); at times, assisted by the forces of what the US calls, its “allies and partners.”
The regional countries, beset by the lack of adequate capacity – besides limited national objectives in terms of geographical scope – have been largely content with the arrangement, and have adopted a ‘free-rider’ approach to security. However, clearly, such a measure is not sustainable, neither for the regional countries, not for the global stakeholders. It is not easy – even for a superpower like the US – to deliver CPGS incessantly in the nearly ‘endless’ stretch of the world’s maritime realm. The military/ naval resources of the US have been increasingly stretched since the end of Cold War due to its increasing military-strategic commitments overseas. The geopolitical challenges added to the US resource ‘overstretch,’ best exemplified by the Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) and the Regional Maritime Security Initiative (RMSI). This led the US Navy Chief of Naval Operations (CNO) to propoundthe concept of ‘Thousand-Ship Navy’ (TSN) in 2005.
Seeking support of allies and partners to partake the responsibility of CPGS, the TSN concept continued well into later years, though ‘TSN’ concept was later rephrased as the ‘Global Maritime Partnership’ (GMP) initiative, and the same was highlighted in the US Maritime Strategy document of 2007.
In the long run, the reliance of the Indo-Pacific region on a single power (or even on a group of ‘monolithic’ western powers) for providing CPGS may not be in the interest of the regional countries and global stakeholders alike, including the US. There are nascent indicators of a change, which augurs well for both categories of nations.
Emerging CPGS Architecture
Tier One
For the US, since the beginning of the current decade, delivery of CPGS in the Indo-Pacific has assumed greater salience than ever before in consonance with its national-strategic concept of ‘Re-balance to Asia.’ Strategy-2015 furthers the appeal for the partnership, with the ‘Global Maritime Partnership’ (GMP) – of the 2007 Maritime Strategy document – now rephrased as a “global network of navies” in the 2015 Maritime Strategy. The 2015 document effectively communicates to the potential partners the rationale for such “plug and play” cooperation with the US forces sans “commitment.”
While the US has been a ‘constant’ in terms of delivery of CPGS in the region, and it may continue to be the ‘lead actor’ for some time, it is unlikely to be the ‘only’ provider of ‘net security’[viii] in the longer run. The Indo-Pacific is witness to the emergence of new major and middle powers with increasing geopolitical, economic and military stakes in the entire Indo-Pacific region. For geopolitical and military-strategic reasons, China is likely to contest the primacy of the US in delivery of CPGS. Notably, however, the Chinese refer to CPGS differently, as ‘Military Operations Other than War’ (MOOTW), as indicated in China’s Defence White Papers since the 2012 documenttitled ‘The Diversified Employment of China’s Armed Forces.’
Tier Two
While the US-China dialectic may soon emerge as the first tier of the regional CPGS arrangement, other medium powers are likely supplement it and form the second tier. These include Australia, India and Japan: middle powers, all of whom have gained considerably from their alliance/ partnership with the US, but would like to form a concert to hedge against being entangled in the US-China tussle. Towards this end, analysts are increasingly promotingthe idea of “middle power coalitions” to offset big-power rivalry in the Indo-Pacific.
Australia’s strategic focus has traditionally been on its eastern seaboard facing the Pacific. Lately, however, Canberra is increasingly looking westwards, akin to a “pivot to the Indian Ocean,” and reminiscent of events of the 1970s leading to Australia’s
Counter Piracy Operations
‘Two-Ocean Navy’ policy enunciated in 1986.[xii]Sam Bateman writes, “Australia’s approach to the Indian Ocean in recent decades might appear to have waxed and waned (but) it never withered away…I don’t see any prospect of the current ‘pivot’ withering away!”[xiii]
The second tier is likely to be reinforced by the European Union (EU). Through the EU Naval Force (EUNAVFOR) Operation Atalanta, the EU has already proved itself to be a reckonable actor in the Indian Ocean, and the EU Maritime Security Strategy (EUMSS)promulgated in June 2014 is likely synergise the role of EU navies to provide CPGS – and least in the IOR, if not further eastwards – through its “integrated approach to global maritime security.” The Strategy would support the role of France – the only major power besides the US that has maintained a continuous naval presence in the Indian Ocean – and would draw support from the re-establishment of the Royal Navy’s permanent presence east of the Suez after a hiatus of nearly 45 years.
Tier Three
In due course, some other medium powers and other relevant countries are likely to share the stage by taking on the gauntlet of CPGS in the Indo-Pacific, forming the third tier of the regional CPGS architecture. The potential medium powers include Indonesia and Iran. Indonesia has enunciated for itself the sobriquet of “Porus Maritim Dunia” (global maritime axis) that envisions developing of the maritime power of the archipelagic nation to its full potential. Further, in consonance with its geo-strategic centrality, it seeks to shape events in the maritime space of the Indo-Pacific region. Although Jakarta has accorded priority to internal consolidation, it is likely to play a significant CPGS role in the region.
Iran could be an effective counter to the global threat posed by the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) and bears a high potential of contributing to stability in West Asia and maritime security in the western Indian Ocean. The international community needs to realize the potential of ISIS to disrupt the West Asian international shipping lanes (ISL) by targeting oil and gas tankers, particularly in the maritime choke-points. The Iranian Navy may be a bulwark against the ISIS in securing the global energy trade sourced from the Persian/ Arabian Gulf. The positive trends in P+1 negotiations with Iran over its nuclear programme represents an opportunity for the stakeholders to engage with Iran.
The other relevant powers that could potentially contribute to CPGS in the region are South Africa, Pakistan and a cohesive group of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries. Their highly capable and professional maritime forces could contribute significantly to regional CPGS effort. However, the political leaderships in Islamabad and the GCC capitals need to realize the emerging imperative to look beyond their respective sub-regional rivalries.
Concluding Remarks
The postulated CPGS architecture for the Indo-Pacific region conforms to the so-called “inclusive approach to maritime security,” which has been the ‘mantra’ of all the multilateral security institutions of the region: the ASEAN Regional Forum (ARF), the ASEAN Defence Ministers Meeting – Plus (ADMM+), the Western Pacific Naval Symposium (WPNS), the Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA) and the Indian Ocean Naval Symposium (IONS). However, in the longer term, a formulation of regional security and stability architecture on a select group of regional countries and non-resident powers does not auger well for regional and global security.
The CPGS effort would need to be pan-Indo Pacific and collective, and enmesh the IOR and Western Pacific spheres of multilateralism. While it may be too ambitious and unrealistic to expect ‘all’ regional countries to acquire ‘surplus’ capacity for CPGS, even if the smaller countries develop adequate capacity to police their respective maritime zones and areas of SAR responsibility, they could contribute significantly to the collective regional CPGS effort. The efforts of multilateral institutions, and major and middle powers would need to be directed towards such ‘capacity-building.’
Captain Gurpreet S Khurana, PhD is Executive Director, National Maritime Foundation (NMF), New Delhi. The views expressed are his own and do not reflect the official policy or position of the NMF, the Indian Navy, or the Government of India. He can be reached at gurpreet.bulbul@gmail.com
[otw_shortcode_button href=”https://cimsec.org/buying-cimsec-war-bonds/18115″ size=”medium” icon_position=”right” shape=”round” color_class=”otw-blue”]Donate to CIMSEC![/otw_shortcode_button]
Notes:
[i] The term ‘Indo-Pacific Region’ was first used in 2007 by the author. See ‘Security of Sea Lines: Prospects for India-Japan Cooperation’, Strategic Analysis, Vol 31(1), January 2007, pp.139-153.
[ii] Paul A. Samuelson , ‘The Pure Theory of Public Expenditure’, The Review of Economics and Statistics, Vol. 36, No. 4 (Nov., 1954), pp. 387-389
[iii] The Proliferation Security Initiative: Can Interdiction Stop Proliferation?’ Arms Control Association, June 2004, at https://www.armscontrol.org/act/2004_06/Joseph. Also see, Gurpreet S Khurana, ‘Proliferation Security Initiative: An Assessment’, Strategic Analysis, Vol. 28, No. 2, Apr-Jun 2004, p.237
[v] Address by the US Navy CNO Admiral Mike Mullen to the students and Faculty of the Naval War College, 31 August 2005 at the Naval War College Newport, R.I. See US Navy website at http://www.navy.mil/navydata/leadership/quotes.asp?q=11&c=2
[vii] ‘A Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower’, US Maritime Strategy, 2015. Also see, Gurpreet S Khurana, ‘Indo-Asia Pacific’ Explained: An Assessment of US Maritime Strategy 2015’, Web-publication of National Maritime Foundation (NMF), New Delhi, 21 August 2015, at http://www.maritimeindia.org/View%20Profile/635756366838030982.pdf
[viii] The concept of ‘net security’ is defined as “…the state of actual security available in an area, upon balancing prevailing threats, inherent risks and rising challenges in the maritime environment, against the ability to monitor, contain and counter all of these”. ‘Ensuring Secure Seas: Indian Maritime Security Strategy’, Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), 2015, New Delhi.
[xii] In the 1970s, Australia was wary of Soviet naval activity in the Indian Ocean, which led to the establishment of its lone naval base in west (HMAS Sterling)in 1978 and enunciation of ‘Two Ocean Policy’ in 1986, through which Canberra intended to relocate half of the Navy’s fleet to the Indian Ocean seaboard.
[xiii] E-mail communication with Commodore Sam Bateman (Retd.), Royal Australian Navy (RAN), 24 October 2015.
[xv] ‘Ensuring Secure Seas: Indian Maritime Security Strategy’, Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), 2015, New Delhi. For an analysis of the Strategy, see Gurpreet S Khurana, ‘Net Security Provider’ Defined: An Analysis of India’s New Maritime Strategy-2015’, Web-publication of National Maritime Foundation (NMF), New Delhi, 23 November, at http://www.maritimeindia.org/View%20Profile/635838396645834619.pdf
