Latin America: Donations and Sales of Second-hand Hulls

By W. Alejandro Sánchez

Written by Wilder Alejandro Sanchez, The Southern Tide addresses maritime security issues throughout Latin America and the Caribbean. It discusses the challenges regional navies face including limited defense budgets, inter-state tensions, and transnational crimes. It also examines how these challenges influence current and future defense strategies, platform acquisitions, and relations with global powers.

Analyses of the status and strength of the US Navy, the Chinese Navy, and other global navies focus not only on the size of their respective fleets but also on the modernity of their hulls and their new capabilities, particularly vis-à-vis integrating new technologies. But what happens to decommissioned platforms that global naval powerhouses no longer operate? Some are kept in reserve or sent to scrapyards. However, many decommissioned vessels find a second life when sold or donated to partners and allies.

As the author of this analysis has written for CIMSEC and other publications over several years (“The Rise Of The Latin American Shipyard”), Latin American shipyards are undergoing a golden age, with a variety of platforms being produced regionally. This trend includes submarines, frigates, corvettes, and patrol vessels. Brand-new platforms from extra-regional suppliers are also being procured. However, second-hand platforms are cost-effective alternatives that provide additional capabilities to the fleet and serve as a stopgap until other procurement projects are completed. Donation of vessels serves to strengthen alliances or create new partnerships.

Latin American Navies: A Brief Overview

Navies worldwide need to constantly evolve and acquire new hulls and technologies to maintain deterrence and win the next war. The US Navy, for example, is turning to uncrewed maritime systems (uncrewed surface vessels and uncrewed underwater vehicles) and aims to deploy them across the Asia-Pacific to support crewed ships. The US Navy’s Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Daryl Caudle, has called this a “hedge strategy.” Meanwhile, China is rapidly expanding its fleet, not just to challenge the US but to gain a bigger presence across the Western Pacific.

Latin American navies have their own strategies, though at a much more domestic and regional level. Geopolitics matter, as Latin America has not experienced interstate warfare in decades. The last armed conflict between two Latin American states was in 1995, between Peru and Ecuador, while the last inter-state conflict with a maritime theater of operations was the Falklands/Malvinas War in 1982, between Argentina and the United Kingdom. The most recent inter-state military operation in the region was Operation Absolute Resolve, which resulted in the extraction and arrest of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro.

While there are some outstanding border disputes across Latin America and the Caribbean, there is no arms race, and inter-state relations are calm. There are also confidence-building mechanisms that promote good relations between civilian governments and militaries. For example, in early March in Uruguay, the Argentine Navy took command of the Coordination for the South Atlantic Area (Coordinación del Área Marítima del Atlántico Sur: CAMAS), a multinational entity created in 1957 composed of Argentina, Brazil, Paraguay, and Uruguay. The goal of CAMAS is to promote cooperation, peace, and stability in the South Atlantic.

Nowadays, the primary role of Latin American navies is to maintain basic deterrence capabilities and readiness in the event of an inter-state conflict. Navies are also heavily engaged in combating maritime crimes, particularly drug trafficking and illegal, undocumented, or unreported fishing. The fleets are also incredibly involved in humanitarian assistance and disaster relief operations.

It is beyond the objective of this analysis to discuss the strategies and aspirations of each Latin American navy. Suffice to say, regional navies are generally focused on operations within their borders. Ships and submarines regularly participate in regional multinational exercises, including the US-sponsored RIMPAC, UNITAS, and SUBDIEX.

Only the Brazilian Navy (Marinha do Brasil: MB) has extra-regional and power projection aspirations. Brazil annually sends a warship to West Africa to train with regional navies. During its visit to Africa, the Brazilian ship participates in the US-sponsored regional exercise, Obangame Express, while the Brazilian Navy also sponsors its own exercise with African navies, Guinex. Dr. Andrea Resende, professor at Brazil’s University of Belo Horizonte (Centro Universitário de Belo Horizonte: UNIBH) and Una Betim University (Centro Universitário Una Betim: UNA), told CIMSEC that Brazil “has also cooperated” with the Namibian Navy and Marine Corps and also worked alongside South Africa to develop the A-Darter missiles. Brazil also “signed an agreement with South Africa for defense, and there is a possibility to expand naval and technical cooperation with South Africa.”

Finally, Mexico and several South American shipyards are currently producing a variety of platforms and reducing reliance on extra-regional suppliers. Brazil has built four Scorpene-class submarines and is now building a nuclear-powered submarine as well as corvettes. Colombia’s COTECMAR (Corporación de Ciencia y Tecnología para el Desarrollo de la Industria Naval, Marítima y Fluvial) and Peru’s SIMA (Servicios Industriales de la Marina) are manufacturing frigates as well as other vessels. Mexico’s ASTIMAR (Astilleros de la Secretaría de Marina) began construction of a patrol vessel, Ecuador’s ASTINAVE (Astilleros Navales Ecuatorianos) is slowly building a multipurpose vessel, and Chile’s ASMAR (Astilleros y Maestranzas de la Armada) is producing four multi-role transport vessels.

These projects demonstrate the level of maturity regional shipyards have reached. However, even regional shipyards cannot build all the complex platforms navies require to modernize their fleets. Several Latin American navies cannot even produce their own vessels, namely the Central American states, Uruguay, and, surprisingly, Argentina (their shipyards have very limited capabilities). These countries will continue to rely on the acquisition of brand-new or second-hand vessels from external suppliers.

Why purchase a second-hand vessel?

There are several reasons why Latin American navies may choose to buy second-hand vessels. Providing additional capabilities is a major reason. Many Latin American navies seek capabilities such as submarine fleets for underwater operations or well-equipped warships for power projection and deterrence. However, in the case of submarines, building one sub alone is a complex engineering project and a long, arduous process. So far, Brazil is the only Latin American country to have mastered this technique via a partnership with France’s Naval Group. According to Resende, Brazil first announced its plans to build subs back in 2008, though the program dates back to the 1970s. It took almost 20 years to complete four conventional submarines, while the nuclear-powered submarine began construction only in 2023. Peru is also very interested in developing submarines via a partnership with South Korea’s HD Hyundai Heavy Industries.

As it currently stands, other Latin American navies are likely to continue to buy used subs if new platforms are too expensive. For example, in 2012, Colombia purchased two of the German Navy’s U-206 subs, now called ARC Intrépido and ARC Indomable. Meanwhile, Argentina does not have an operational submarine: the ARA San Juan sank tragically in 2017, the ARA Santa Cruz has been rusting away in a hangar for over a decade, and the ARA Salta is over five decades old and probably not seaworthy. The service wants to regain its underwater capabilities, and some media reports have suggested Argentina is considering buying new subs from Naval Group or used ones as a short-term solution.

Other fleets have also acquired second-hand vessels to enhance their capabilities. Brazil has a history of using second-hand carriers: the NAeL Minas Gerais carrier was purchased from the United Kingdom in the late 1950s and served until the late 1990s. The next carrier was the NAe São Paulo, purchased from France. After São Paulo was decommissioned around 2018, the Marinha do Brasil still wanted a carrier as its flagship, so Brasilia purchased the HMS Ocean, a Landing Platform Helicopter (LPH) carrier previously operated by the Royal Navy. The ship has been renamed NAM Atlântico.

As for more recent acquisitions, Brazil purchased the HMS Bulwark, an Albion-class amphibious assault ship from the Royal Navy in 2025. Minister of Defense José Mucio Monteiro Filho traveled to Plymouth, United Kingdom, in February to supervise repairs and upgrades to Bulwark. The ship will be renamed NDM Oiapoque and is scheduled to arrive in Brazil in late June 2026. With a length of 176 meters and the capability to transport armored vehicles and as many as seven hundred troops, the second-hand ship will be the Brazilian fleet’s second-largest after the carrier, Atlântico.

Acquiring used warships also serves as a short-term solution for navies while they prepare to buy new platforms. For example, in 2020, Chile bought two frigates previously owned by the Royal Australian Navy. The two ships are now known as Capitán Prat and Almirante Latorre. The used-but-still modern frigates will help Chile maintain deterrence capabilities for the rest of the decade while the Chilean shipyard, ASMAR, completes other projects. During the current decade, ASMAR has manufactured the icebreaker Almirante Viel and is building four multi-role transport vessels. The Chilean Navy now aims to domestically manufacture frigates in the early 2030s, which means the two Australian frigates will continue to operate until future ships are commissioned.

Similarly, in 2014, the Peruvian Navy acquired the replenishment support vessel HNLMS Amsterdam, which was later renamed BAP Tacna. Tacna was the primary support ship of the Peruvian fleet for years until the commissioning of the landing platform docks BAP Pisco (2018) and BAP Paita (2025). The Tacna served as a heavy replenishment vessel until the Makassar-class ships, manufactured by the local shipyard SIMA, began operating.

Donations

Donations serve different purposes. Donors can help reduce unwanted inventory and potentially cement alliances with receiving nations. The US military has a history of donating various technologies to partners across the Western Hemisphere. In February, US Southern Command donated M4 carbines, pistols, night-vision equipment, and other technology to the joint special forces battalion of the Paraguayan armed forces. The US government has also donated decommissioned US Coast Guard cutters to Costa Rica, Ecuador, and Uruguay. In fact, the US donated a cutter, formerly called the USCG Orcas, to Ecuador this past May. The ship is now called Isla Puná.

South Korea is also donating decommissioned vessels to Latin American navies. Over the past decade, South Korea has donated Pohang-class corvettes BAP Ferre and BAP Guise to Peru and two corvettes, the ARC Nariño (Donghae-class) and ARC Tono (Pohang-class), to Colombia. In 2024, the Uruguayan Navy received a PKM 318 Chamsuri-class patrol vessel, now operating as ROU 10 Huracán. South Korea also donated a multipurpose ship to Ecuador; the now-called BAE Jambelí was formally commissioned on 7 May. In a mid-April press release, the Ecuadorian Ministry of Defense labeled the Jambelí as a “mega warship and the first multi-role ship of the country” while the Navy similarly explained, during the recent commissioning ceremony, that Jambelí is the fleet’s first-ever multipurpose platform.

China and the US

The United States and China deserve a special discussion, though this analysis is not intended to examine the strategies, including procurement and decommissioning strategies, of either the US Navy or the People’s Liberation Army Navy.

Besides Venezuela, and to a much lesser degree, Bolivia, China has not managed to find clients for its military technology in Latin America and the Caribbean. Of note, recent attempts to sell armored vehicles and warplanes to Argentina were unsuccessful. However, over the past decade, Beijing has donated non-lethal military technology to several regional armed forces to build goodwill and improve military relations. In the maritime realm, Beijing donated small patrol craft and speedboats to Ecuador and Guyana. It also sold one large, new patrol vessel to Trinidad and Tobago in 2014. It is worth highlighting that there are no readily available examples of the sale or donation of second-hand warships from Beijing to Latin America.

As for the United States, it is curious that recent transfers of decommissioned vessels are overwhelmingly Coast Guard cutters. Latin American navies were no strangers to acquiring decommissioned US warships several decades ago, many of which remain operational. For example, the Peruvian Navy still operates the landing vessel BAP Eten, formerly the USS Traverse County (LST-1160), which was acquired over four decades ago. Ecuador received the USS Chowanoc (ATF-100), a tugboat, and renamed it the BAE Chimborazo. Another example is the Mexican Navy’s landing ship, ARM Papaloapan, which was previously called the USS Newport (LST-1179). Papaloapan is still very much operational: it participated in the recent UNITAS 2025 multinational exercises.

There are no publicly available examples of decommissioned US warships sold or donated to Latin America in the past five years, excluding the Coast Guard cutters. This is intriguing as Washington continues to enjoy strong diplomatic and military relations with the majority of Latin American and Caribbean states. The acquisition of decommissioned Australian and British ships as well as German submarines indicates an ongoing preference for Western technology.

Discussion and conclusions

One notable detail that arose from this analysis is that there are few scholarly or in-depth analyses of the sale (or donation) of second-hand naval assets. Without a doubt, there is plenty of information about navies buying brand-new warships and submarines. Similarly, whenever a second-hand vessel is acquired (via sale or donation), the media of the respective Latin American country receiving the ship (or sub) will publish about it. However, a broad analysis of the market for second-hand warships and submarines is a missing link in discussions of maritime strategies and procurement trends. One of the few publicly available in-depth studies on this topic is the 2024 PhD dissertation by Dr. Eva Ziegler, titled “International Transfers of Second-Hand Major Conventional Weapons Patterns, Determinants and Consequences,” for the University of Munich. The defense news agency Defensa.com also wrote about this topic in 2019 while another defense news agency, Infodefensa, did so in 2023. It is worth noting that research for this analysis was conducted in English, Portuguese, and Spanish. It is very possible that this topic has been researched in other languages or that the research is not publicly available.

The outlook on the market for second-hand warships and submarines in Latin America remains positive. Argentina is a country to monitor as its navy seeks to regain underwater capabilities. There have been many rumors that Buenos Aires is purchasing decommissioned submarines from countries such as Brazil and Turkey to regain this capability. If a sale by Brazil were to occur, it would be a huge milestone as the two countries have been historical rivals vying to be leaders of South America. Meanwhile, countries with limited budgets and/or naval infrastructure will also continue to welcome donations of small, multi-role ships, such as patrol vessels, cutters, or corvettes, that can aid in monitoring territorial waters and exclusive economic zones.

Moreover, the Brazilian Navy’s acquisition of the Oiapoque demonstrates that even the most advanced navy in the region has no qualms about acquiring a used-but-modern warship. The Brazilian government announced an ambitious defense expenditure plan of USD$151 billion (R$ 800 billion) over 15 years. The plan will likely focus heavily on the Brazilian defense industrial base and domestically produced equipment. However, certain high-tech, second-hand assets may also be purchased. Heavy multipurpose and transport vessels are two types of ships that Brazilian shipyards do not focus on producing, so they could be purchased, even second-hand.

Even though many Latin American shipyards are currently building new transport vessels, frigates, patrol vessels, and even submarines, the market for used hulls will remain attractive for regaining or augmenting capabilities by purchasing modern platforms at a lower cost or receiving them via donations. 

Wilder Alejandro Sánchez is an analyst who focuses on international defense, security, and geopolitical issues across the Western Hemisphere, Central Asia, and Eastern Europe. He is the President of Second Floor Strategies, a consulting firm in Washington, DC, and a non-resident Senior Associate at the Americas Program, Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS). Follow him on X/Twitter: @W_Alex_Sanchez.

The opinions expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the views or policy of CSIS or any other organization with which the author is affiliated.  

Featured image: Chilean Navy Adelaide-Class guided-missile frigate CNS Capitán Prat and Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Gridley steam together during a bilateral maritime engagement in the Pacific Ocean, April 21, 2026. Chile bought the frigate second-hand from the Royal Australian Navy in 2020. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist Seaman Matthew C. Wolf)

Five Issues for the National Commission on the Future of the Navy

By Bruce Stubbs

In 2022, Congress established the independent National Commission on the Future of the Navy to conduct two overarching studies, one examining naval force structure and the other focused on shipbuilding and innovation.[1] The former will recommend the size and composition of the Navy, while the latter will identify opportunities to better integrate advanced technologies into shipbuilding, new construction, and repair shipyards. China now possesses the world’s largest navy by ship count, and its shipbuilding capacity vastly exceeds that of the United States. Chinese shipyards are producing warships faster than American yards can repair them. China has spent a generation building a fleet capable of contesting sea control and converting industrial scale into military power, while the United States has allowed its shipbuilding capacity, naval industrial base, and force structure to deteriorate over the same period. The Commission is required to submit an unclassified report in 2027, and its recommendations could shape American naval power for years to come. To fulfill its mandate, the Commission must resolve five foundational issues.

Issue #1: A Navy Without a Strategy

The Commission cannot responsibly recommend a force structure until it answers a question that Congress, the administration, and the Navy have all failed to answer clearly to date: what is the Navy expected to do?[2] Without a clear answer, every force structure recommendation lacks a coherent strategic foundation.

The current situation reflects an accumulation of partial answers. Title 10 provides a floor. The Navy shall be organized, trained, and equipped for the peacetime promotion of national security interests and for prompt and sustained combat at sea. But this is a generalized statutory minimum rather than a strategy.[3] The 2025 National Security Strategy (NSS) and the 2026 National Defense Strategy (NDS) provide overarching direction, but they are administration-specific documents that will not survive the current presidency. The strategic objectives they reflect, preventing Chinese hegemony in the Indo Pacific, deterring Russian aggression in Europe, maintaining freedom of navigation, and protecting maritime commerce, have remained substantively consistent across recent administrations even as the terminology, emphasis, and policy frameworks surrounding them have changed. But consistent objectives alone do not constitute a strategy. For decades, the Navy has acknowledged operational strain, force structure pressure, and readiness shortfalls without clearly identifying which missions would receive priority, which risks would be accepted, and what strategic tradeoffs would follow from those choices.

CNO Caudle’s Navy Fighting Instructions is an unclassified public document, but the Navy Warfighting Concept and the developing Navy Deterrence Concept, the foundational guidance documents that the Fighting Instructions references and depends upon, remain classified. What is currently absent in unclassified form is not operational detail. Classified guidance is the appropriate place for theater-specific net assessments and force-sizing specifics. Missing instead is strategic direction concrete enough to shape force planning decisions. Effective strategy must do more than describe objectives. It must identify priorities, accepted risks, and strategic tradeoffs clearly enough to drive force structure decisions. Without that level of clarity, force planning becomes vulnerable to bureaucratic drift, budget pressures, and competing operational demands unsupported by a coherent strategic framework.

Without that conceptual foundation available in both classified and unclassified form, the public, Congress, and the defense community cannot evaluate whether the Commission’s force structure recommendations derive from realistic strategic guidance. Congress requires a classified version to conduct effective oversight and an unclassified version to communicate requirements and justification to the American public. No adequate unclassified naval strategy currently exists to anchor the Commission’s work. Indeed, three days after the President’s Golden Fleet announcement, a Wall Street Journal editorial observed that the larger problem was the apparent absence of clear direction for the Navy.[4]

The 1980s provide the relevant model for how this problem should be solved. Chief of Naval Operations Admiral James L. Holloway III established the correct analytical sequence in 1978. Force requirements depend on three factors: strategy, threat, and risk, in that order.[5] As CNO, Admiral James D. Watkins declared the Maritime Strategy “the bedrock of planning, programming, and operations throughout today’s Navy,” providing “a clear framework against which all budget proposals are judged.”[6] The Maritime Strategy existed in both classified and unclassified form. At least eight versions were produced at the secret level and above because Congress, the public, and allies all needed to understand the strategic logic supporting the 600 Ship Navy.[7] Strategy defined the ends, and the 600 Ship Navy provided the means. That sequence and that transparency are what the Commission should require. This does not mean strategy alone determines force structure. Political and budgetary realities play an equally important role in shaping the size of the Navy. But strategy must come first and must provide the framework within which those realities are applied.[8]

The Commission must also look forward rather than remain anchored to current guidance. Ships built on the basis of its recommendations will still be operating in the 2050s. Force planning that ignores future threat environments across a service life extending more than thirty years risks producing forces optimized for today’s problems but poorly matched to tomorrow’s. Yet forecasting is genuinely difficult. Benjamin Jensen, a defense policy analyst at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, and former Marine Corps officer Michael Rountree observed that “there is no single future, but an endless unfolding of alternative pathways and timelines.”[9] That difficulty is not a reason to avoid the effort. It is precisely why the Commission must undertake it seriously. It also argues for force designs that preserve room for adaptation. Ships operating in the 2050s must be capable of incorporating warfighting technologies and responding to threats that cannot yet be fully anticipated.

Issue #2: A Sea Control or Sea Denial Navy

The Commission must determine whether the Navy should be designed primarily to achieve sea control or to conduct sea denial. These are fundamentally different strategic objectives that require similar but not identical force structures. Sea control is the condition in which one has freedom of action to use the sea for one’s own purposes while denying that use to the enemy. It enables all other naval functions and historically has been the objective of the stronger naval power. Sea denial involves partially or completely denying the adversary use of the sea without necessarily securing it for one’s own purposes. It has generally been the objective of the weaker side.[10]

The current administration and the Navy have shifted toward sea denial as the primary organizing concept. The 2025 NSS directs the military to build a force “capable of denying aggression anywhere in the First Island Chain.”[11] The 2026 NDS reaffirms this approach by directing a “strong denial defense along the First Island Chain” and declaring that making clear any attempt at aggression will fail “is the essence of deterrence by denial.”[12] CNO Caudle’s December 2025 C-NOte stated explicitly that the Navy will “build an integrated, all domain Fleet capable of conducting sea denial and, when needed, sea control.”[13] His Navy Fighting Instructions translated this concept into operational guidance through the Hedge Strategy, which he described as necessary because “building a Fleet to cover every possible threat is too expensive, unrealistic, and sub optimized.”[14]

This was an acknowledgment that the current fleet of roughly 295 ships cannot sustain sea control and therefore must prioritize sea denial supported by unmanned and tailored offset capabilities.[15] The Navy’s own emerging small surface combatant concepts reinforce this reality. While senior leaders increasingly describe frigates and other lower-end platforms as necessary to relieve operational pressure on destroyers, those same platforms lack the area-air-defense capability required to replace large surface combatants in high-threat environments. The result is an implicit admission that the Navy is designing portions of the future fleet around the operational requirements of sea denial and presence missions rather than sustained sea control against peer adversaries. Throughout the Cold War and afterward, the Navy described its overarching purpose as sea control or power projection, and at times both, but never as sea denial. Naval Doctrine Publication-1 states explicitly that “Sea control enables all other naval functions.”[16]

The Commission cannot recommend a force structure without first determining whether that structure is designed to control the seas or merely to contest them. Nor can it make that determination without telling the nation plainly what each choice costs, what each choice risks, and what each choice forfeits.

Issue #3: The Navy’s High–Low Force Mix

The statute’s core mandate to recommend the size and force mixture of ships across four funding scenarios directly requires resolving the Navy’s high- low balance. CNO Caudle acknowledged the operational cost of failing to do so plainly at the Paris Naval Conference when he stated, “what I find now is I end up having to use CSGs [carrier strike groups] and amphibious strike groups in places where I believe I could tailor a force package and be more suited to the threat.”[17]

High-end forces such as aircraft carriers, nuclear powered submarines, and advanced multi mission surface combatants are designed to operate in contested environments against capable adversaries. They are essential for sea control, deterrence, and power projection. They are also expensive, finite in number, and poorly suited for missions that do not require their capabilities. Every high-end platform assigned to a mission below its capability threshold is a platform unavailable for the high-end fight it was designed and funded to win. The Navy’s operational problem is increasingly one of using sledgehammer solutions for missions that require only a tack hammer. Destroyers designed for high-end combat are routinely consumed by counter-drug patrols, maritime security missions, presence operations, and other low-threat requirements that steadily expend readiness, service life, and maintenance capacity without contributing meaningfully to preparation for major war.

The definition of low-end forces has evolved considerably beyond the crewed patrol ships and frigates of previous decades. Today it encompasses two distinct categories. The first consists of affordable crewed surface combatants. These are smaller and simpler ships optimized for presence, maritime security, and constabulary missions while still capable of contributing to wartime escort and force protection without the cost and complexity of a destroyer. The second and increasingly important category consists of robotic and autonomous systems. These include uncrewed surface vessels configured for scouting, screening, offensive mining, and containerized missile payloads; uncrewed underwater vehicles designed for area denial and counter mine missions; and attritable autonomous platforms capable of coordinated operations without continuous human control.[18] CNO Caudle’s Hedge Strategy explicitly identifies these systems as “Tailored Offsets,” describing them as force multipliers that expand mass and complicate adversary targeting at a fraction of the cost of crewed platforms.[19] The unifying characteristic of low-end forces, whether crewed or uncrewed, is mission specificity. They are optimized for defined tasks rather than the full multi mission spectrum expected of high-end combatants.

Not all adversaries operate high-end warships. China’s People’s Armed Forces Maritime Militia employs hundreds of nominally civilian fishing vessels to assert maritime claims and harass foreign ships in the South China Sea. Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps fast attack craft have repeatedly threatened U.S. Navy ships in the Persian Gulf. Houthi forces have used anti-ship missiles, drone boats, and mines to disrupt Red Sea shipping, requiring sustained naval responses. None of these threats requires a carrier strike group. All require a capable, persistent, and affordable low-end presence that the current force structure cannot efficiently provide.

Six factors shape the Commission’s resolution of this question. The Navy is only infrequently engaged in high-consequence, low-probability conflicts such as war with China or Russia, but it must remain constantly prepared for them. That reality means high-end platforms cannot expend their readiness on lower tier missions. For most of this century, the Navy has instead been consumed by high-probability, lower-consequence maritime security and naval diplomacy missions that neither require nor should routinely employ its most sophisticated combatants. In a general war, low-end forces are essential for convoy escort and force protection. They cannot be absent from the wartime order of battle. Shipbuilding and weapons system costs continue to rise faster than defense budgets, making affordability a binding constraint. The sophisticated weapon systems that define high-end combatants are unnecessary for low-end missions and add cost and maintenance burdens without corresponding operational benefit. The Navy has also repeatedly demonstrated an institutional inability to define and maintain clear requirements for small combatants. The Constellation–class frigate, cancelled after its cost approached that of an Arleigh Burke-class destroyer, stands as the most recent and costly example. Persistent maritime security requirements cannot be sustained indefinitely through episodic deployment of scarce high-end combatants.

The Commission must resist two symmetrical errors in resolving the high-low question. The first is allowing the desire for low-end platforms to participate in high-end warfare to drive their cost and complexity toward that of the high-end platforms they are intended to supplement. Both the littoral combat ship and the Constellation–class guided missile frigate illustrate this problem clearly. The second error is designing low-end platforms so narrowly around peacetime security missions that they become wasted assets during conflict and cannot contribute to escort, force protection, or sea control operations when war comes. In a general war, every hull counts. Low-end ships must therefore be affordable enough to procure in quantity, simple enough to crew and maintain, and capable enough to contribute meaningfully to the wartime fleet.

The 2025 NSS and 2026 NDS sent strong demand signals for both ends of the spectrum simultaneously. High-end forces are needed to deny Chinese aggression in the First Island Chain. Low-end Navy and Coast Guard forces are needed to control sea lanes, counter narco-terrorists, and secure key terrain in the Western Hemisphere.[20] The high-low force mix is ultimately not an acquisition question, but a strategic question. A fleet composed entirely of high-end platforms would be strategically capable but numerically insufficient and operationally inefficient. A fleet composed primarily of low-end platforms would be numerically adequate but strategically hollow. The Commission must define the proper balance, specify what low-end actually means in terms of capability and cost, and recommend a force structure capable of performing the full spectrum of naval missions, from maritime security in the Caribbean to sea control in the Western Pacific, without exhausting its high-end platforms on missions they were never intended to perform.

Issue #4: The Navy’s Shipbuilding Crisis and Its Legislative Fix

The Commission’s Study on Shipbuilding and Innovation should draw upon the Vinson-Trammell Act of 1934 as a model for correcting the shipbuilding crisis confronting the Navy today.[21] That Act served as the charter that built the modern U.S. Navy.[22] Its enduring principles for maintaining the fleet and sustaining the associated shipbuilding industrial base, if applied consistently, would have prevented most of the problems affecting the Navy’s industrial base today.

First, the United States must build and maintain a Navy composed of modern warships that remain on true parity with rival maritime powers. Achieving that goal requires determining on a long-range basis the numbers, types, and tonnages of warships to be laid down each year. Second, any surface ship more than twenty years old should be considered obsolete and of limited military value. Large numbers of aging hulls can mislead policymakers about actual naval strength, especially when a rival power is building rapidly. Third, sufficient warship replacement programs must be financed consistently from year to year in order to prevent mass obsolescence, maintain constant modern fleet strength, and reduce costs through repetitive construction. Finally, the sequence itself is nonnegotiable. National security requirements and sea power needs must be established first. Only afterward should cost considerations be applied. The purpose of that sequencing is to ensure budgets do not silently redefine national strategy through force erosion and deferred replacement.

The abandonment of these principles after the Cold War did not create an immediate crisis. It produced a slow-moving one whose consequences are now fully visible. When the peace dividend gutted shipbuilding budgets during the 1990s, the Navy retained aging ships in service rather than replacing them on schedule, violating the principle of systematic replacement. Without steady and predictable construction programs, private shipyards lacked any basis for investing in facilities or workforce development, violating the principle of repetitive construction. Public naval shipyards fell decades behind in infrastructure modernization. The skilled workforce contracted. When submarines required overhaul, there were too few dry docks, too few workers, and insufficient spare parts because the industrial base had not been sustained in the manner the Vinson-Trammell framework required.

The fate of USS Boise (SSN-764) illustrates the cumulative consequences of that failure. Commissioned in 1992 and docked a decade ago for what should have been a routine overhaul, Boise remained out of service for years while the Navy awarded a $1.2 billion repair contract in 2024.[23] More than $800 million was spent. The overhaul was only 22 percent complete when CNO Caudle announced in April 2026 that Boise would be inactivated.[24] Every dollar spent on her refurbishment was wasted. Senate Armed Services Committee Chairman Jack Reed called Boise the “poster child” for the Navy’s submarine maintenance backlog. From then, Bosie waited until the service awarded a $1.2 billion contract to HII for the work in 2024. Combined, the Navy has invested about $1.6 billion Boise, based on Pentagon contract announcements. [25] Boise was not simply a story about one submarine. It became a visible symbol of what happens when long-range shipbuilding discipline, maintenance capacity, and industrial sustainment are allowed to erode simultaneously.

The Commission, whose mandate explicitly includes recommending legislative changes, can present this case publicly and with full analytical authority. The Navy cannot resolve its shipbuilding and maintenance crisis through internal reform alone. The incentive structures, funding mechanisms, and oversight frameworks that produced the current crisis are embedded in law and congressional process, and correcting them requires Congress to act. Recent small surface combatant proposals also suggest the Navy is increasingly attempting to use force structure decisions to stabilize the shipbuilding industrial base itself. In practice, some future fleet programs appear driven as much by the need to sustain shipyard capacity and production continuity as by clearly defined warfighting requirements. That reality further reinforces the need for coherent long-range maritime planning linking strategy, force structure, and industrial capacity rather than allowing industrial weakness to shape fleet design indirectly through crisis management. A modern Vinson-Trammell Act, properly conceived and boldly recommended, could do for the twenty-first century Navy what the 1934 original Act did for the Navy that won the Second World War. It could establish the legislative foundation for sustained naval power adequate to the strategic competition the nation now faces.

Issue #5: American Sea Power and the Coast Guard

Any assessment of American sea power that excludes the Coast Guard is incomplete. The Commission’s governing statute requires it to ensure the Navy possesses sufficient capacity for current and anticipated homeland defense missions. That requirement cannot be fully addressed without considering the Coast Guard’s unique statutory authorities, capabilities, and role within the maritime domain, particularly given the 2025 NSS direction calling for “a more suitable Coast Guard and Navy presence” in the Western Hemisphere. The United States has always required constabulary power. It must possess the capability to uphold maritime sovereignty, prevent illegal and illicit use of its waters, protect maritime borders, ensure the safe passage of cargo and people, and preserve marine resources. These are maritime law enforcement missions that constitutional practice and historical precedent have assigned primarily to the Coast Guard rather than the Navy.

The case for including the Coast Guard in the Commission’s deliberations rests on six grounds. The Coast Guard possesses maritime law enforcement and counterterrorism authorities the Navy does not have, including statutory authority to arrest vessel operators and crews suspected of illegal activities on the high seas. That authority is essential for the constabulary missions the NSS and NDS now explicitly prioritize. The Coast Guard also operates the nation’s only icebreaking fleet, which is necessary to assert sovereignty and protect national security interests in the Arctic and Antarctic regions that the current administration has identified as priorities. The National Fleet Policy requires Navy and Coast Guard commonality and interoperability. Colin Gray observed in 2000 that the predictable shortage of frigate sized warships in the future Navy pointed toward closer integration with the Coast Guard because large cutters would increasingly need to function as warships.[26] The 2025 NSS explicitly calls for a more suitable Coast Guard and Navy presence in the Western Hemisphere in order to control sea lanes, reduce human and drug trafficking, and secure key transit routes during crisis. This direction acknowledges that the Coast Guard is part of American maritime dominance rather than a peripheral service. The 2025 executive order on shipbuilding directs a government-wide review of production delays and cost overruns that specifically includes Coast Guard programs alongside those of the Army and Navy. Finally, the Coast Guard has served, fought, and died beside the Navy in every major American war and contingency, including its permanent patrol boat presence in the Persian Gulf, which in 2026 consisted of six Sentinel class cutters, a shore maintenance unit, and a maritime engagement team.

Recent operations have reinforced this argument. In March 2026, CNO Caudle identified maritime domain awareness and drug interdiction as the principal challenges facing U.S. Southern Command.[27] He acknowledged that he wished the Navy had progressed further in developing alternatives so that when the Ford Carrier Strike Group departed the Caribbean, he could have offered something more appropriate for the mission. Historically, that mission set has belonged to the Coast Guard. The Coast Guard is also directly relevant to Issue #3. The low-end presence gap identified in the high-low force mix discussion, namely the need for persistent and affordable maritime security capacity below the threshold of high-end combat, is precisely the mission the Coast Guard was designed and statutorily authorized to perform. The Commission cannot responsibly address force structure without asking whether a properly resourced and integrated Coast Guard is the answer Caudle acknowledged the Navy could not yet provide. Force structure recommendations that fail to incorporate Coast Guard capabilities fully will remain incomplete.

Conclusion

Congress directed the Commission to examine force structure, readiness, shipbuilding capacity, naval aviation, personnel policy, and the force-generation model that sustains combat power at sea. Those problems are interconnected and their causes are well understood. Based on the Commission’s public statements, hearings, and commentaries, the recurring problem is that immediate operational demand, near-term political pressures, and annual budget cycles have repeatedly overpowered long-term maritime planning, industrial continuity, and strategically disciplined force planning. The consequences are now visible across the fleet. Readiness is consumed to meet current tasking. Maintenance is deferred to preserve near-term presence. Shipbuilding programs expand, contract, and change direction before industrial capacity can stabilize around them. Force structure drifts as priorities shift between administrations and budget cycles. Long-term strategic priorities blur because the Navy is continually forced to satisfy immediate operational requirements at the expense of sustained strategic coherence.

The underlying relationships are not conceptually complicated. During the Cold War, the United States understood that strategy had to establish priorities and accepted risks, force structure had to reflect those priorities, industrial capacity had to sustain that force structure over time, and readiness had to be preserved for the conflicts the nation considered most dangerous. The Commission’s statutory task is to provide Congress an unclassified report with findings, recommendations, and legislative proposals addressing those interconnected problems. In practice, however, the Commission is being asked to do something broader and more consequential. It must identify not only how to recover from the Navy’s present readiness, maintenance, force structure, and industrial base problems, but also how to prevent their recurrence. That requires more than shipbuilding targets or future fleet numbers. It requires a realistic framework for setting maritime priorities, defining accepted risks to the force and to the nation, aligning strategy with resources and industrial capacity over time, and sustaining American sea power across decades rather than budget cycles.

The Commission has the independence, the authority, and the mandate to confront these problems directly. Its report will have little value if it merely restates the Navy’s existing challenges or proposes force structure ambitions disconnected from industrial reality, operational sustainability, and accepted strategic risk. The Commission’s real task is to impose long-term strategic discipline on problems that have repeatedly been overwhelmed by short-term operational demand and political pressure. Whether it does so candidly and coherently is the measure by which its work should ultimately be judged.

[1] James M. Inhofe National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2023, Pub. L. No. 117-263, 136 Stat. 2395 (2022), § 1092.

[2] Mackenzie Eaglen, Filemon Vela, and Benjamin Jensen, “How Congress Can Revitalize American Sea Power,” The National Interest, January 21, 2026.

[3] 10 U.S. Code § 8062, subparagraph (a).

[4] The Editorial Board, “The Navy Needs Direction,” The Wall Street Journal, December 25, 2025.

[5] CNO Admiral James L. Holloway III, Naval Warfare Publication 1: Strategic Concepts of the U.S. Navy, May 1978, in John B. Hattendorf, ed., U.S. Naval Strategy in the 1970s, Naval War College Press, 2007, p. 59.

[6] CNO Admiral James D. Watkins, “The Maritime Strategy,” U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, January 1986.

[7] Peter M. Swartz with Karin Duggan, U.S. Navy Capstone Strategies and Concepts (1970–2010), Center for Naval Analyses, MISC D0026437.A1, December 2011, slide 21.

[8] Anand Toprani, “Was the 600-Ship Navy a Chimera? Budgets, Force Structure, and the Political Realities Behind Reagan-Era Naval Strategy,” Journal of Strategic Studies, June 24, 2024, p. 3.

[9] Benjamin Jensen and Michael Rountree, “Driving the Dark Road to the Future: A Guide to Revitalizing Defense Planning and Strategic Analysis,” War on the Rocks, July 1, 2022.

[10] Naval Doctrine Publication-1 (NDP-1), April 2020, p. 22.

[11]Donald J. Trump, National Security Strategy, November 2025, p. 24.

[12] Pete Hegseth, National Defense Strategy, January 2026, p. 4.

[13] ADM Daryl L. Caudle, CNO C-Note #3, “World-Class Fleet,” December 1, 2025.

[14] ADM Daryl L. Caudle, CNO C-Note #3, “World-Class Fleet,” December 1, 2025.

[15] ADM Daryl L. Caudle, CNO C-Note #4, “The Way We Fight,” January 15, 2026; Breaking Defense, January 28, 2026.

[16] NDP-1, April 2020, p. 22.

[17] ADM Daryl L. Caudle, Speech, Paris Naval Conference, February 2026; Naval News, March 13, 2026.

[18] ADM Daryl L. Caudle, CNO C-Note #4, “The Way We Fight,” January 15, 2026; Breaking Defense, January 15, 2026; NAVSEA Modular Surface Attack Craft contracting notice, 2025.

[19] ADM Daryl L. Caudle, Remarks, Surface Navy Association. See also: Press Office, Department of the Navy, “Chief of Naval Operations Unveils ‘Fighting Instructions’ at U.S. Naval War College,” Press Release, 9 February 2026.

[20] Trump, National Security Strategy, November 2025; Hegseth, National Defense Strategy, January 2026.

[21] Matt Wright, “Just-in-Time Production,” U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, January 2023.

[22] Charles F. Elliott, “The Genesis of the Modern American Navy,” U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, May 1966.

[23] Justin Katz, “CNO Nominee Adm. Caudle Says He’ll Look ‘Hard’ at Whether to ‘Walk Away’ from Sub Boise,” Breaking Defense, July 24, 2025.

[24] Sam LaGrone, “Navy to Inactivate Attack Boat USS Boise After $1.6B Repair Effort,” USNI News, April 10, 2026.

[25] Justin Katz, “Navy Awards HII $1.2B Contract to Overhaul Long-Sidelined Sub Boise,” Breaking Defense, February 23, 2024.

[26] Colin S. Gray, “Keeping the Coast Guard Afloat,” The National Interest, No. 60, Summer 2000.

[27] Caitlyn Burchett, “SOUTHCOM Doesn’t Need a Carrier for Maritime Interdiction, CNO Says,” USNI News, April 6, 2026.

Prior to his full retirement as a member of the U.S. senior executive service, Bruce Stubbs had assignments on the staffs of the Secretary of the Navy and the Chief of Naval Operations from 2009 to 2022. He was a former director of Strategy and Strategic Concepts in the OPNAV N3N5 and N7 directorates. As a career U.S. Coast Guard officer, he had a posting as the Assistant Commandant for Capability (current title) in Headquarters, served on the staff of the National Security Council, taught at the Naval War College, commanded a major cutter, and served a combat tour with the U.S. Navy in Vietnam during the 1972 Easter Offensive.

Featured Image: IONIAN SEA (Feb. 21, 2022) Standing NATO Maritime Group 2 ships and submarines sail in formation in the Ionian Sea off the coast of Sicily Feb. 21, 2022 during Exercise Dynamic Manta 22 (DYMA 22). 

 

 

 

Four Fleet Designs: Which Navy is Best for America?

By George Galdorisi

Perspective

Military leaders often use military-industry conferences to unveil new strategies. Coming on the heels of a new National Security Strategy (NSS) issued in December 2025 and a National Defense Strategy (NDS) issued in January 2026, the U.S. Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Daryl Caudle, revealed the Navy’s strategy designed to support the NSS and NDS, the U.S. Navy Fighting Instructions in February 2026.

The venue for unveiling this document was The Armed Forces Communications and Electronics Association (AFCEA)/U.S. Naval Institute (USNI) “West” symposium, the largest military/industry symposium on the West Coast with over 10,000 registered attendees. Admiral Caudle was the keynote speaker on day one of this event, and he provided a briefing on the U.S. Navy Fighting Instructions.

One of the key points the CNO made during this keynote, as well as during a subsequent Service Chiefs panel, was that the U.S. Navy is a differentiator. Here is how he described it in the Fighting Instructions:

“Winners set themselves apart by excelling in difficult endeavors. It is what separates successful businesses or world-class athletes from the competition. Doing difficult things well means identifying and delivering differentiated value. For the United States Navy, prioritizing what the Navy does better than anyone else—any other Service, any other Nation—is central to ensuring that the Chief of Naval Operations designs and resources a strategy that ruthlessly prioritizes the Sailors, Foundry, Fleet, and Fight needed to execute our essential global missions. We provide differentiated value to two primary stakeholders: the Nation and the Joint Force.”

The CNO’s emphasis on the U.S. Navy as a differentiator comes at a time when there is intense discussion regarding the different options for what the Navy-After-Next will look like. The discussions within the Navy, the Department of Defense, the Executive Branch, the U.S. Congress, think tanks and a plethora of other stakeholders and influencers and others have never been more varied or intense, and much of that discussion occurred during the “West” symposium.

Which Fleet?

Four options for fleet composition have gained purchase within the U.S. Navy.

The first is the Navy’s current shipbuilding plan as reported by the Congressional Research Service. This includes 381 crewed ships and a number of uncrewed surface vessels. This number comports with the recently released Navy Shipbuilding Plan which envisions a battle force inventory reaching 382 crewed ships in 2056.

The second option that has gained traction is called the “hybrid fleet.” This concept was unveiled by then-Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Michael Gilday, and endorsed by his successors. This envisions a Navy of 350 crewed ships and 150 uncrewed surface vessels. The idea of a hybrid fleet evolved due the U.S. Navy’s ongoing challenge of building enough crewed ships to adequately meet the Navy’s global commitments.

The next option is called the “hedge fleet.” This envisions a forward-deployed force of robotic autonomous systems and crewed ships to be employed quickly in any crisis. Of the four options, the CNO spoke most extensively about the hedge fleet, explaining the rationale this way: “We need ‘tailored forces’ and a Navy that has other battle formations beyond carrier strike groups. Tailored offsets include capabilities such as attritable and easily replenishable unmanned surface vessels, unmanned undersea systems, mine warfare and cost-effective counter drone defense. The hedge fleet avoids a brittle single-purpose force.”

The final option is the “golden fleet,” a recent initiative announced by President Trump in late 2025 to rapidly expand and modernize the fleet. This plan focuses heavily on battleships alongside frigates and uncrewed surface vessels. While media reporting regarding the golden fleet centers primarily on large ships, knowledgeable observers have suggested that the small- and medium-sized uncrewed surface vessels armed with long range strike and missile defense systems will be the most strategically impactful in the near term.

One common feature among these four options is the inclusion of uncrewed surface vessels as vital assets within a future fleet. There are two reasons for this sea change.

The first is that ships are expensive to build and operate. The cost of Ford-class aircraft carrier is $13B and an Arleigh Burke destroyer is $2.2B. The new Columbia-class ballistic missile submarine approaches $10B. However, those procurement costs only represent the tip of the iceberg. Populating those vessels with sailors is also increasingly expensive, given that seventy percent of the total operating cost (TOC) of a ship over its lifespan is providing a crew year-over-year.

The second is that after over a decade of development the Navy has confidence that uncrewed surface vessels have reached a point in their development that they are no longer prototypes, but production-ready vessels (some are commercial-off-the-shelf or COTS). that are ready to deploy with their crewed counterparts.

As evidence of this technological maturity, the CNO noted how Navy and Marine Corps exercises, experiments, and demonstrations such as the those conducted by Fifth Fleet/CTF-59, Fourth Fleet and a series of uncrewed surface vessel-focused events with NATO allies have accelerated the development of these craft. As just one of many examples of this testing in recent years, MARTAC, a U.S. uncrewed surface vessel designer/builder, has frequently been invited to showcase its MANTAS T12, Devil Ray T24 and Devil Ray T38 unmanned surface vessels (USV) to a wide range of Navy and Marine Corps at-sea events.

These events have included the U.S. Pacific Fleet-led Integrated Battle Problem series of exercises, the Integrated Maritime Exercise series held under the auspices of U.S. Naval Forces Central Command/Commander Task Force 59 in the Arabian Gulf, NATO exercises BALTOPS, REPMUS, and the follow-on Dynamic Messenger, Australian Defence Force Exercise Autonomous Warrior, among others.

The Navy Shipbuilding Plan reveals how this confidence in the technical maturity of uncrewed surface vehicles has given the Navy confidence to provide funding for USVs to: “serve as a direct, dual-use supplement to existing ready forces, providing a flexible “tailored force” to enhance the nation’s maritime posture.”

The number of medium uncrewed surface vessels (MUSVs) projected in the Shipbuilding Plan are substantial, growing from 39 in FY27 to 83 in FY31 when MUSVs will comprise 18% of the Navy’s fleet. As the Plan explains, MUSV integration will unburden higher-value assets, such as Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, as the autonomous fleet can take up long endurance maritime domain awareness missions.

The Road Ahead

Regardless of which design for the Navy-After-Next prevails in the coming years – be it one of the existing conceptual designs, a hybrid design drawing elements from among these options, or a completely different design – a future U.S. Navy comprised of formations of integrated crewed ships and uncrewed surface vessels represents a once-in-a-generation sea change for the U.S. Navy.

While deciding on the composition of the Navy-After-Next is a necessary first step it is not a sufficient one. The U.S. Congress has been reluctant to authorize the Navy’s planned investment of billions of dollars in USVs until the Service can come up with a concept-of-operations (CONOPS) for using them. Congress has a point.

Via the Navy Shipbuilding Plan, the Navy has announced plans to procure large numbers of uncrewed systems—especially medium uncrewed surface vessels—but a CONOPS, in even the most basic form, has not yet emerged. Such a CONOPS must be thoughtfully conceived, analyzed, vetted through stakeholders, war-gamed and widely distributed. Only through this disciplined process can the Navy-After-Next be the strongest Navy the nation can field.

Captain George Galdorisi, USN (Ret.) is a career naval aviator and national security professional. During his 30-year career he had four tours in command and served as a carrier strike group chief of staff. Additionally, he led the U.S. delegation for military-to-military talks with the Chinese Navy. He is the Emeritus Director of Strategic Assessments and Technical Futures at the Naval Information Warfare Center Pacific. He is the author of seventeen books, including four consecutive New York Times bestsellers. His most recent novel, Fire and Ice, is eerily prescient, as it foresaw Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

Featured Image: PHILIPPINE SEA (Nov. 16, 2018) Ships with the Ronald Reagan Carrier Strike Group and John C. Stennis Carrier Strike Group transit the Philippine Sea during dual carrier operations. (U.S. Navy photo)

Selective Sea Denial: The Rise of Land-based Anti-Ship Missiles as Political Instruments

By Helge Adrians

Recent conflicts in the Middle East highlight how maritime kill chains from ashore impose risk on global shipping. However, Western navies have yet to fully grasp that within these loosely integrated sensor-to-shooter networks, land-based Anti-Ship Missile (AShM) systems have become the decisive instruments by which littoral actors — both state and non-state — generate coercive effects at sea. It is through these systems that such networks translate dispersed sensing and targeting into episodic operational effects, thereby producing conditions that resemble artificially generated chokepoints or barriers in narrow seas.

Typically consisting of mobile, often truck-mounted launchers, sensor inputs, and command-and-control elements, land-based AShMs — whether ballistic or cruise configurations — facilitate a form of selective sea denial. Rather than enforcing broad area exclusion, they allow actors to threaten specific shipping lanes, vessels, or temporal windows of opportunity, thereby imposing calibrated risk, delay, and uncertainty while avoiding decisive confrontation.

While this approach is not new in principle, its contemporary expression is shaped by the growing integration of land-based AShMs with both traditional and emerging elements of coastal defense, including unmanned systems (UxSs). These combinations enhance target acquisition, extend operational reach, and complicate defensive planning by saturating attention and forcing continuous trade-offs in detection, prioritization, and engagement, thereby creating conditions in which AShMs can be employed to greatest effect — not necessarily through technological sophistication alone, but through dispersion, redundancy, and temporal unpredictability. Within such configurations, AShMs remain the central kinetic enabler, translating otherwise transient sensing and targeting opportunities into tangible maritime effects. Even limited successful engagements can therefore generate disproportionate operational, psychological, and economic consequences, particularly in narrow seas and heavily trafficked maritime corridors.

Accordingly, this form of selective sea denial is more than a tactical adaptation. It reflects a recurring but under-theorized pattern in evolving conflict: the use of land-based strike capabilities, operating in a distributed manner and under the protection of terrestrial topography, to disrupt global maritime trade flows and generate political consequences. Yet Western military thinking still tends to treat land-based AShM systems within sensor-to-shooter architectures as supporting assets rather than as the central coercive instruments, leaving a gap in conceptualization and countermeasures — one that is particularly acute in other narrow seas, especially in inland seas such as Baltic. Closing this conceptual gap demands moving beyond kinetic countermeasures alone and instead finding ways to contain the political utility of AshMs. 

Land-Based Anti-Ship Missiles in Practice: From Tactical Denial to Political Leverage

Land-based AShM systems have often been viewed in the West through the lens of China’s defense posture in the Western Pacific — labeled as ‘anti-access/area-denial’ since 2003 — where they were popularized as ‘carrier killers.’ Although other states also began to acquire or modernize such weapons during this period, their significance has only become globally visible in recent years.

This shift is illustrated by the Houthi campaign in the Red Sea since late November 2023, which shows how rapidly limited military capabilities can generate outsized maritime effects.

What began with drone-based harassment soon expanded into a layered approach that included the recurrent use of land-based AShMs, drawing mostly on Iranian technology, itself rooted in Chinese designs. While UxS established presence and imposed friction, it was the integration of these missiles within a broader multi-vector threat environment that fundamentally altered the character of the battlespace. The coexistence of different trajectories — high/fast for anti-ship ballistic missiles, low-altitude high-speed sea-skimming anti-ship cruise missiles, and low/slow for UxSs — creates a persistent strain on sensor management, as systems can no longer exclude entire kinematic regimes from consideration. This forces continuous tradeoffs in detection, classification, and resource allocation, increasing processing load and degrading overall situational awareness. The destructive characteristics of AShMs — particularly the speed, range, and terminal flight profiles of ballistic variants — introduce a qualitatively different layer of risk, in which even limited successful engagements carry the potential for sudden kinetic loss at sea.

As attacks grew more frequent and less discriminate, the Houthis translated localized military means into broader economic and political consequences. Crucially, these effects were achieved mainly from the mountainous hinterland of Western Yemen, highlighting how even episodic missile employment can exert continuous pressure on commercial traffic.

In response to the escalating situation in the Red Sea, the United States — together with partners — launched multiple rounds of strikes against Houthi targets beginning in early 2024, building on earlier efforts to contain the group’s regional activities. The objective was not solely to eliminate land-based AShMs, but to degrade the broader ecosystem enabling maritime attacks, from sensors to shooter platforms. Precision strikes from the air and the sea hit suspected launch sites, storage facilities, and command elements, yet failed to produce a decisive reduction in the threat. Houthi forces adapted quickly, relying on mobility, concealment, and redundancy to preserve operational capacity. As a result, attacks on commercial shipping persisted, and the risk environment remained largely intact. Within this evolving campaign, land-based AShMs continued to play a central role, illustrating how even under sustained military pressure such systems can endure as instruments of regional disruption.

Structural limitations already visible in operations against the Houthis were reinforced in the joint U.S. and Israeli campaign against Iran since the end of February 2026.

Although U.S. and Israeli forces faced little difficulty in achieving theater entry — again demonstrating the limited effectiveness of Iranian anti-access measures, the ‘outer ring’ — this initial advantage did not translate into control over the threat environment within the ‘inner ring(s).’ This was evident in the maritime domain. For instance, while conventional Iranian naval forces were quickly degraded through stand-off strikes, this did little to affect the more resilient layer of land-based AShMs and UxSs. These dispersed capabilities, likely supported by foreign target acquisition, continued to pose a credible risk to merchant vessels transiting the Persian Gulf, maintaining a persistent sea-denial threat despite continued operational pressure. Operational and public attention, however, remained disproportionately focused on the possibility of mining in the Strait of Hormuz, diverting attention from the more immediate and lethal challenge posed by missile-based sea denial. Air-centric efforts — including strike aircraft and rotary-wing assets operating within a loosely integrated kill web — failed to fully neutralize these systems, highlighting the difficulty of suppressing mobile, land-based AShM threats without escalation or ground presence.

Repeated efforts to suppress these capabilities have highlighted their resilience once dispersed, as well as the limits of strike-centric approaches in countering land-based AShM threats in littoral environments. More importantly, their persistence preserves their value as a coercive instrument: by sustaining risk, they drive up insurance and operating costs, shaping maritime behavior without requiring the physical interdiction of shipping, while allowing actors to effectively switch maritime access on or off at short notice.

Targeting Flows: The Economic Consequences of Selective Sea Denial

Maritime commerce warfare, or the selective targeting of merchant shipping is not a new phenomenon. However, the time-compressed execution from dispersed, protected coastal or peripheral sites introduces a qualitatively higher level of uncertainty regarding when and against which vessels attacks may occur. This situation is structurally reinforced by the inherent difficulty of detecting, locating, and pre-emptively neutralizing modern land-based AShM systems, even for advanced militaries.

Significantly, their effectiveness does not depend on frequent successful strikes, but on the persistent possibility of sudden, high-impact AShM engagements generated by land-based, heterogeneous, sensor-enabled kill chains. Unlike other forms of coastal maritime disruption, such as piracy, these systems derive their strategic effect from their ability to disturb and compress naval decision-making processes under conditions of multi-vector uncertainty. That is, their strategic utility lies less in missile performance than in inducing cognitive overload, misallocation of defensive resources, and degraded engagement sequencing within shipborne combat systems.

This risk environment is rapidly translated into economic calculations through maritime insurance mechanisms, where elevated perceived risk leads to adjusted war risk premiums and the redefinition of high-risk zones along global shipping routes. In this sense, the proliferation of land-based AShMs in geographically constrained maritime environments takes on significance beyond the military domain, informing insurance assessments of emerging high-risk maritime areas.

Rising war risk premiums and associated operating costs undermine the economic viability of transiting affected sea lines of communication. Crucially, these effects are expectation-driven, as perceived rather than actual risk shapes insurance pricing and routing decisions. Even low-intensity or sporadic activity can therefore sustain elevated risk perceptions, allowing the mechanism to persist over time without escalation to major conflict.

Shipping companies are thus forced into costly trade-offs between absorbing higher premiums, rerouting vessels, or suspending operations. Such adjustments increase transit times, fuel consumption, and logistical complexity, reducing supply chain reliability even in the absence of sustained kinetic disruption. Insurers, in turn, aggregate localized threat perceptions into broader high-risk maritime zones, translating tactical developments into systemic market signals. In the wake of repeated conflicts in the Middle East, land-based AShMs have emerged as a distinct risk category within maritime insurance assessments, alongside established threats such as piracy or naval mines.

Insurance markets thus act as amplifiers of localized military signals. Even limited and visible deployments, as well as indications of the acquisition or modernization, of land-based AShMs can generate disproportionate macroeconomic effects. Such actions are incorporated into insurers’ assessments of emerging maritime risk through a feedback loop between perceived threat and commercial behavior. In this dynamic, maritime traffic is redirected not through physical denial, but through the imposition of cost and uncertainty. Over time, this produces not only disruption but a gradual reconfiguration of global shipping routes, as land-based AShMs shape maritime behavior indirectly through economic pressure rather than direct control of sea lines of communication.

From Effects to Strategy: The Political Logic of Selective Sea Denial

The economic effects outlined above are not yet globally diffused in a uniform manner, but are instead mainly concentrated in three regions where land-based AShM capabilities are either already fielded or undergoing sustained modernization: the Middle East, the South China Sea, and the Baltic Sea.

The South China Sea resembles a contested archipelagic space with layered maritime claims. Should a conflict arise there and maritime kill chains — including land-based AShMs — be activated, shipping traffic could still be diverted, as was the case in the Red Sea.

In contrast, the Baltic Sea constitutes a quasi-enclosed maritime corridor with severely constrained routing flexibility, as alternative routes are few — primarily the Kiel Canal and the White Sea-Baltic Canal — and subject to state control. As in the Persian Gulf, disruption to maritime traffic in this region and its associated supply chains would have consequences for the global economy, not primarily through energy exports or trade flows, but through the activation of mutual assistance obligations among European states and the resulting increase in financial market uncertainty.

Building on this systemic exposure, the political significance of land-based AShMs in narrow inland seas lies primarily in their role within escalation dynamics rather than in their direct employment.

Both in the Baltic Sea and in the Persian Gulf prior to the outbreak of the current conflict, these systems remain embedded in broader coastal defense postures of the respective littoral states but continue to be relatively underweighted in crisis planning when compared to more immediately visible instruments of maritime disruption such as warships, naval mines, or naval aviation. Where they are considered, the focus tends to lie on the capabilities of Russia and Iran rather than on those of other regional actors. For instance, the land-based AShM capabilities of Baltic NATO members have so far received comparatively less analytical attention.

The Iranian case nevertheless illustrates that such systems can retain a persistent deterrent effect even under conditions of sustained military pressure, due to their mobility, dispersion, and survivability. Their relevance is therefore not static but contingent, functioning in a manner that can resemble an on/off logic depending on perceived targeting pressure and operational visibility. As such, they can serve as instruments for shaping the order of a maritime space and for exerting coercive pressure in both peacetime and crisis, by enabling a controllable form of escalation.

This is also relevant for Russian strategic considerations in the Baltic Sea, where perceptions of NATO’s qualitative superiority — reinforced by recent Ukrainian tactics and operational innovations in the Black Sea, and concerns about its ‘shadow fleet’ tanker flows — may further incentivize caution in exposing naval assets to comparable attritional dynamics. This translates into land-based AShM deployments in Kaliningrad and around St. Petersburg in the Gulf of Finland, where geographical conditions may generate episodically visible but structurally persistent deterrent effects.

Across these cases, escalation unfolds not as a binary transition but as a staged process, ranging from signaling and sensor deployment to targeting preparation and eventual kinetic employment. Within this framework, the political value of land-based AShMs derives less from their actual use than from their integration into credible escalation pathways that remain visible yet only partially suppressible. This generates a cognitive effect in which perceived survivability and latent operational availability enhance deterrence and coercive leverage even in the absence of engagement.

Selective Sea Denial as a Persistent Condition of Maritime Conflict?

The patterns observed in the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf indicate two transitions. First, they reveal how networked and distributed technologies shape conflict. Second, they demonstrate a shift from episodic disruption to a structurally elevated level of risk in key maritime corridors. Both are defined by the ability to calibrate maritime access through temporally and spatially bounded threats rather than area-wide denial. Looking ahead, other powers, notably China and Russia, may adopt and evolve selective sea denial in regions such as the South China Sea or the Baltic Sea. If this approach becomes a persistent rather than exceptional condition, it is likely to diffuse further as an attractive model of limited escalation under conventional constraint.

The demonstrated effectiveness of land-based AShMs is likely to accelerate their proliferation across multiple channels in the coming years, reinforcing a current structural dilemma for Western militaries. Stand-off strike campaigns and maritime defensive measures have so far proven insufficient to neutralize such capabilities, while the deployment of human ground forces remains politically and operationally unattractive, despite its doctrinal relevance in scenarios such as the South China Sea. This proliferation is likely to be accompanied by operational and doctrinal adaptation, as both state and non-state actors refine how these systems are integrated into broader sensor-to-shooter architectures. As long as traditional arms control and non-proliferation efforts are unlikely to gain traction given the simultaneous offensive and defensive character of these systems, and Western approaches do not overcome risk aversion or find new ways to counter them, they will increasingly have to operate within the constraints of remote and low-visibility forms of warfare.

Restoring the manageability of risk, effective management of the threat will depend less on eliminating elements of land-based AShM systems than on constraining their political utility. Rather than attempting to dismantle the networks in which these systems are embedded, planners must pursue deterrence, resilience, and the protection of critical shipping flows. This requires reducing systemic vulnerabilities to temporally and spatially limited disruptions of global trade, as well as greater resources for managing distributed sensing and engagement demands. Consequently, land-based AShMs should be understood not primarily as tactical enablers, but as relatively easy-to-use instruments of controlled strategic escalation. Accordingly, the strategic focus must shift from targeting platforms to shaping the behavior of the actors and networks that employ them.

Commander Helge Adrians, German Navy, M.A., is a Visiting Fellow at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs.

Featured image: An Iranian Qader missile being fired during an exercise in 2020. (Photo via Fars Media Corporation/Wikimedia Commons)

Fostering the Discussion on Securing the Seas.