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Sweden and the Blue Society: New Challenges for a Small Navy

Regional Strategies Topic Week

By Lars Wedin

The Royal Swedish Academy of War Science is presently undertaking a study of strategic and operational requirements for the Swedish Armed Forces in the 2030 timeframe. Its naval section has recently published its findings in a book, Vår marin för ett tryggt Sverige och ett starkt Europa. Marin strategi 2030 (Our Navy for a Secure Sweden and a Strong Europe. Naval Strategy 2030).1 This article discusses some of our findings.

Classic naval strategists – Mahan, Corbett, and Castex – basically saw naval strategy as consisting of three major alternative offensive strategies: attack on land from the sea, blockade, and commerce raiding, as well as the corresponding defensive strategies. Sea control (command of the sea is an older term) and its opposite, sea denial are key. French Admiral Raoul Castex summed it up nicely: “Depending on whether one has command of the sea or not, one may or may not:

  • be in an offensive mode, intercept the communications at sea of the enemy and attack his territory from the sea;
  • be in a defensive mode, guarantee one’s own communications and prevent the enemy from attacking one’s territory from the sea.”2

Today, the spectrum of maritime warfare is much broader and fluid. Some parts of this spectrum, such as nuclear deterrence, are only relevant to the navies of larger powers, but many are highly relevant also to coastal navies.

Geographically, Sweden is a maritime country dependent on sea lines of communications (SLOCs) for its international trade but also, increasingly, for domestic transportation. Its biggest port is Gothenburg, but there are important ports along all its 2,700 kilometers of coastline. The sea around Sweden is divided into three operational areas by the straits of Öresund and the Åland archipelago. Strategically, Sweden borders the Arctic in the north, Russia in the east, the EU in the south and the Atlantic Ocean in the west. The country is not a member of NATO but enjoys a close partnership with the alliance. It is a member of the EU, and has close military relationships with other Nordic countries, especially Finland. The Swedish navy is modern and capable, but much too small for the tasks expected of it.

Map of Sweden (via Britannica.com)

The Blue Society

The future of humankind lies at sea, which is demonstrated by the 70-80-90-99 rule: the sea covers 70 percent of the surface of the globe, 80 percent of its population lives near the sea, 90 percent of goods are transported on ships, and 99 percent of world’s digital information is carried by submarine cables.3 Two thirds of the world’s wealth is also produced at, or in, the sea. One could talk about a littorialization of the world’s population and thus of its economy.4 In sum these trends form what one could call a blue society – a society turned toward and dependent on the sea, its possibilities, and challenges.

Several important factors drive this development. It is well-known that the globe’s major reserves of oil and gas lie beneath the sea; there are tens of thousands of platforms of different kinds and more than 100,000 people serve on them. Climate change drives the construction of an ever-increasing number of wind farms and other forms of at-sea power generation. Climate change also drives moving traffic of goods from roads to ships (and railways). Mineral resources at sea are increasingly important as well as resources for the biochemical and pharmacological industry. Fishing – catch of wild fish as well as fish farms – is of vital importance for a large part of the world’s population. Shipping and related activities are vital for the economy. Just in the EU, some 574,000 people work in ports, a sector worth a collective €89 billion.5, 6

To conclude, the old adage of Corbett that “Command of the sea, therefore, means nothing but the control of maritime communications, whether for commercial or military purposes” is no longer sufficient. The sea itself is now intrinsically important. He is still correct, however, when he stated that naval warfare is not about “the conquest of territory.”7

Littoralization in Scandinavia

Two extreme cases of littoralization are the interlinked mega-regions known as Western Scandinavia and Greater Copenhagen. The former includes southwestern Sweden and southern Norway while the latter covers the Danish and Swedish parts of the Öresund. 30 percent of Norway’s and 33 percent of Sweden’s populations live in Western Scandinavia which is responsible for the major part of Norway’s and half of Sweden’s GDP.8 A driving factor is the area’s largest ports, Gothenburg and Helsingborg, which link the region with the global market. Greater Copenhagen is, from an economic point of view, an integrated area on each side of one of the world’s most busy waterways, where around five million people live.

Even minor disturbances may create great economic danger to the countries in the region. Hybrid warfare could be a very effective mode of attack due to the dependence on vital infrastructure. For instance, just a suspicion of mines in the waterways would cause disruption; such a suspicion is relatively easy to spread through a disinformation campaign. Their actual use would cause great harm. Due to the archipelago covering the port of Gothenburg, preventive mine-hunting would require significant resources.

The defense of such a littoral area with its thousands of islands, broad countryside, as well as modern cities, as well as extensive transport networks would be very complex. One might add the great sensitiveness of modern ports as well as infrastructure in general to attacks in cyberspace.

Infrastructure – Changing the Geography of the Littoral 

Trends in building new infrastructure on the sea – the construction of wind farms and diverse platforms for oil and gas including the deployment of Floating Liquefied Natural Gas (FLNG) and Floating (production) Storage and Offload (F(P)SO) – change the operational seascape.9 These facilities are a sort of hybrid infrastructure, where they retain the permanence of land-based facilities but are located out at sea. In the Swedish context, only wind farms are relevant.

Windfarms may cover large areas and they produce noise that may conceal the presence of submarines. It is believed that a wind turbine has a radar cross section of around 10,000 meters squared. The movements of the blades affect a doppler radar, which is in current use in modern aircraft. Wind farms, covering large areas, constitute a new tactical environment. Submarines, especially midget submarines, and fast attack craft (FAC) may conceal themselves in such areas and would be very difficult to detect. In fact, during the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s, Iran used its oil platforms as bases for their fast attack craft – the famous Boghammar.10 Sweden also has a goal of 100 percent renewable energy by 2040. Wind farms at sea are bound to play an important part in this program.11 Consequently, such wind farms become strategically important and, hence, a target for warfare.

Another aspect of infrastructure is constituted of cables. Cables may be damaged accidentally or intentionally, but their information could also be intercepted by specialized submarines. It is believed that the Russians are very capable in this area. Stopping information through cable-cutting is a measure already used  since the Spanish–American War of 1898. Electrical power is also transmitted through cables on the seabed. The strategically important Swedish island of Gotland is highly dependent on electricity from the mainland. Sweden is also connected to the EU internal energy market through a network of such cables.13, 14

A final type of growing infrastructure is the bridges that connect Sweden, Denmark, and Germany. They are of clear strategic importance but vulnerable. They also constitute physical obstacles – modern aircraft carriers may not enter the Baltic Sea because the bridges are too low. The Great Belt and the Öresund have, historically, had great strategic importance. They still have as they link, or separate, the Baltic Sea from the Atlantic area.

In sum, infrastructure at sea is strategically important, but vulnerable. A complete command of the sea would constitute an efficient defense but such a command is likely impossible. Consequently, this is an area in need of tactical development.

Technology – A Force Multiplier

Naval officers tend to equate military capacity with the number of keels or missile tubes available. These metrics are important of course, but technology creates new possibilities. A primary observation is that distances, expressed as range, depend on technology: “The physical arena is as big as before when considered in linear dimensions, in kilometers. However, when expressed in passage time, it is much reduced.”15 Until now, range has been dependent on a ship’s organic sensors and weapons. Now, the use of drones changes this.

Drones will have an increasing role to play in surveillance, as decoys, and as weapon platforms over, on, and under the surface. Drones for undersea, surface and air use will be networked together. The future naval force will probably have a number of such drones for communications, targeting purposes, and as weapon delivery platforms. With the development of standard interfaces, drones will be able to communicate among themselves. This also means that one ship may use another’s drone. Artificial Intelligence (AI) will make it possible for drones to cooperate actively and independently to a great extent.

For the Swedish Navy, there are a number of possible tactical uses. A critical one is the surveillance of the undersea domain in ports and important parts of archipelagos in search of mines and minisubs. Another is increasing the sensor range for ships on surveillance missions. Sweden could perceive cargo ships loaded with military units that “suddenly” steer toward Swedish ports as an important threat.16 AI will help in detecting such moves early on.

Swedish corvettes will (finally) be equipped with medium-range anti-air missiles. This will give these ships quite a new role as part of the Swedish air defense, which has mainly depended on the Air Force. Sweden has bought the Patriot system, but the number of systems and missiles is not known and probably small. The contribution of the Navy, with its staying power at sea, could be significant. New ships may be constructed with built-in sensors in the hull, in engines, and weapon systems. This may make planned maintenance less important as the sensors will be able to report continuously on the condition of the material. The aspect of cybersecurity will, obviously, be very important in this context. These are just some examples of what new technology may have to offer a small navy.

Naval Diplomacy

Aircraft carriers are sometimes called “100,000 tons of diplomacy.” But even smaller navies and ships can be applied toward naval diplomacy. The general objective is to shape the strategic environment to one’s advantage, to reassure friends, and earn the respect of potential enemies. Naval presence is the basic action in the context of naval diplomacy; without presence, there is no diplomatic effect. Naval diplomacy and presence can cover a range of actions that are not clearly defined from one another, and may be engaged in simultaneously. Naval presence may produce a number of strategic effects (interdiction, coercion, creation of friendship and confidence) depending on the actions of the deployed naval force. But the result also depends on posture and credibility. This can be illustrated by the following formula: Diplomatic result = (action plus posture) times credibility. Naval diplomacy and presence can cover a range of actions that are not clearly defined from one another. Naval diplomacy also influences one’s own perceptions of others, and can help mitigate the assumptions that come with mirror imaging.

Even a small navy like the Swedish Navy can engage in a range of naval diplomatic activities. To be present at sea with capable naval ships with well-trained crews is a priority in peacetime. It is also necessary in order to keep track of developments in the busy seas surrounding Sweden. Exercises with friends (the U.S., NATO, Finland, and others) create the necessary interoperability and mutual trust needed in crisis and war. It also has a deterring effect showing that they are able to fight together even though Sweden is not a formal member of NATO. Naval visits are a classic and effective way of creating mutual friendships.

More controversial would be efforts to approach the Russian Navy. Russian presence in the Baltic and adjacent seas is a fact and perfectly legal according to the UNCLOS.18 All states in the area share an interest in the keeping of good order and safety at sea. The problem with Russia is, of course, its rather aggressive posture and its actions against Ukraine. However, simple exercises at sea could be a way of creating some degree of mutual trust. As the sea is free, such endeavors would be less controversial than activities on land.

Conclusion

A small navy like the Swedish Navy does not seek to be able to project power on a global scale – not even on a regional one. It cannot protect SLOCs in contested areas far away. But it can, and must, promote and defend its interests at sea in its own area of interest. It can also be a small but important player in larger contexts as shown, for instance, by the Swedish participation in Operation Atalanta off the coast of Somalia.19

In fact, even small navies will see enlarged requirements as a result of the increased importance of the sea in the context of the blue society – a society dependent on the sea and its use. This will include traditional missions like defense of territory against amphibious operations and protection of shipping. But it will also include new missions in the context of the increased importance of infrastructure at sea. Technology will create new possibilities also relevant for small navies, such as through drones, AI, and new missiles.

Representatives of major navies often tend to see smaller navies – without the whole panoply of naval might – as less relevant. But a small navy may be as relevant as a large one in the context of its own strategic environment, and where larger allies may depend on their success.

Lars Wedin is a retired Captain R Sw N. He is the editor of Tidskrift i Sjöväsendet which, since 1835, is the journal of the Royal Society of Naval Sciences founded in 1771. He is also a member of the Royal Academy of War Sciences.

References

  1. Odd Werin, Lars Wedin: Vår marin för ett tryggt Sverige och ett starkt Europa. Marin strategi 2030, Kungl. Krigsvetenskapsakademien, Stockholm, 2020.
  2. Raoul Castex: Théories stratégiques, Institut de Stratégie Comparée et Economica, Paris 1997, vol V, p. 87.
  3. Slightly adapted from Remarks by the Honorable Ray Mabus Secretary of the Navy 27th Annual Emerging Issues Forum: Investing in Generation Z Raleigh, NC Tuesday, 7 February 2012. https://www.navy.mil/navydata/people/secnav/Mabus/Speech/emergingissuesfinal.pdf
  4. République Française : Stratégie nationale de sûreté des espaces maritimes, Paris, 2015. p. 5.
  5. Before Brexit and the Coronavirus Pandemic
  6. The EU blue economy report 2019, Publications Office of the European Union, Luxembourg 2019.
  7. Julian S Corbett: Some Principles of Maritime Strategy, Conway Maritime Press, London 1972 [1911], p. 90
  8. OECD: OECD Territorial Reviews: The Megaregion of Western Scandinavia, OECD Publishing, Paris 2018, https://read.oecd-ilibrary.org/urban-rural-and-regional-development/oecd-territorial-reviews-the-megaregion-of-western-scandinavia_9789264290679-en#page15. www.greatercph.com/about
  9. See Lars Wedin: Maritime Strategies for the 21st Century. The Contribution of Admiral Castex, Paris, Nuvis, 2016, p. 164 – 165.
  10. http://www.navalhistory.org/2013/04/18/operation-praying-mantis-18-april-1988. Accessed March 10, 2014.
  11. https://www.regeringen.se/debattartiklar/2017/12/vi-vill-gynna-vindkraften-till-havs/
  12. See https://www.submarinecablemap.com/
  13. Lars Wedin: “L’île De Gotland. Clé De La Mer Baltique, Stratégique 2019/1-2 (N° 121-122), p. 103-115.
  14. Hållbar och säker elförsörjning, Svenska kraftnät, 2020, https://www.svk.se/sakerhet-och-hallbarhet/hallbarhet/hallbar-och-saker-elforsorjning.
  15. Castex: Théories stratégiques, vol III, p. 153.
  16. The realism of this perception is open to some doubt but it is regarded as a fact in Swedish defense policy circles.
  17. Martin Motte: “Splendor Rei Navalis”, Stratégique, no. 118, 2018, p. 81
  18. UN Convention on the Law of the Sea
  19. See Robert McCabe, Deborah Sanders and Ian Speller (eds): Europe, Small Navies and Maritime Security. Balancing Traditional Roles and Emergent Threats in the 21st Century, Routledge, 2019.

Featured Image:  TRONDHEIM FJORD, Norway (Oct. 30, 2018) The Swedish navy corvette HSwMS Nyköping (K34) transits Trondheim Fjord in Norway, Oct. 30, 2018, as part of NATO exercise Trident Juncture 2018. (U.S. Navy photo by Lt. Cmdr. Pedro Miguel Ribeiro Pinhei/Released)

A South Pacific Island-Led Approach to Regional Maritime Security

Regional Strategies Topic Week

By Michael van Ginkel

Archaeological records of South Pacific islands point to almost 5,000 years of occupation. Across Polynesia, Melanesia, and Micronesia, the archipelagic geography forced inhabitants to develop a heavy reliance on marine resources and maritime trade. In 2010, the fishing and tourism sectors alone amounted to around 10 percent of the annual gross domestic product (GDP) of the Pacific Island Countries and Territories, or roughly $3.3 billion. During the 2014 workshop entitled “Regional Security Architecture in Oceania held in Vanuatu,” participants highlighted the important links between economic prosperity and human security in the maritime domain.

To address the non-traditional threats undermining maritime-based economies, island nations and regional multilateral frameworks have implemented programs around maritime capacity-building, information-sharing, and security assistance operations. These initiatives provide opportunities for further development by local leaders, and for foreign entities to contribute resources, assets, and training toward South Pacific maritime security with efficiency and efficacy. By aligning future efforts with the most pressing needs of existing maritime institutions and initiatives, stakeholders can effectively address the threats to the South Pacific livelihood posed by non-traditional security challenges in the maritime domain.

Overcoming Limited Maritime Law Enforcement Capacities 

A paucity of maritime law enforcement assets has hindered attempts to adequately monitor coastal waters, enforce licensing and regulations around fishing and aquaculture, and intercept smuggling and trafficking. Palau, for instance, only has one 30-meter offshore patrol vessel to patrol an exclusive economic zone of around 629,000 km2. The small island nations likewise suffer from deficiencies in supporting infrastructure, including drydocks and human resources, that could reinforce maritime law enforcement operations against illicit activities like drug smuggling, human trafficking, and illegal, unreported, and unregistered (IUU) fishing.

As a result of this gap in enforcement capacity, IUU fishing has proven particularly costly to South Pacific island nations in terms of environmental impact, catch-rates, and national GDPs. In some instances, however, local institutions have used technological approaches to monitoring for IUU fishing to compensate for low numbers of patrol vessels. In Tonga, the Pacific Island Forum Fishery Agency, the inter-governmental agency responsible for compiling and disseminating South Pacific fisheries data, manages the island’s vessel monitoring system. The data facilities the ability of Tonga’s law enforcement agencies, including the Police Ministry, Customs Office, Transportation Ministry, and Tongan Defense Services, to enforce legislation around fisheries. In general, the Pacific Island Forum (PIF) has arisen as a unifying organization for formulating and implementing maritime initiatives in the South Pacific, including in fisheries, development, and tourism. By continuing to spearhead initiatives in conjunction with South Pacific island governments, the organization can work to enhance local maritime security.

Foreign entities can maximize their impact by contributing to existing security arrangements after a careful assessment of maritime threats and law enforcement capacities. For example, to offset the insufficient number of Tonga law enforcement vessels available for patrol, the United States signed an agreement where Tonga officers can board U.S. Coast Guard vessels operating in Tonga waters. The rider agreement integrates well with existing security arrangements without placing additional strain on local law enforcement assets.

To increase the number of vessels able to identify and intercept illicit maritime actors, the parties could expand the agreement to include U.S. naval vessels, such as the agreement the U.S. signed with Fiji. Similarly, multilateral air patrol agreements could improve maritime domain awareness moving forward. The lack of aircraft available for patrols has created gaps in maritime surveillance that infrequent fly-overs, such as those conducted by New Zealand, France, the United States, and Australia over Tonga, via bilateral air patrol agreements cannot sufficiently address at their current levels.

Major cultural areas of Oceania: Micronesia, Melanesia, and Polynesia (Wikimedia Commons)

Enhancing Information Sharing 

In addition to patrol assets, information sharing mechanisms form an essential component of maritime security by allowing agencies, governments, and multilateral organizations to synthesize and assess security threats based on a holistic view of the maritime domain. Analysts can use the information collected from maritime patrols, human intelligence, and a variety of geospatial data-acquisition technologies to prioritize where to direct limited maritime assets. Information centers already exist within the South Pacific for gathering and disseminating data on maritime issue areas. The Transnational Crime Coordination Center, for instance, collects datasets on 13 South Pacific islands through the use of 19 Transnational Crime Units. The center uses the datasets to inform South Pacific island leaders on emerging threats, such as an increase in sex offenders traveling by sea to South Pacific islands for child sex exploitation. The region would, however, benefit from improving information-sharing networks on the national level, where lack of transparency hinders cooperation.

To improve the accuracy of information available at the regional level and in support of ongoing information sharing by island nations and local multilateral organizations, external stakeholders have proposed the creation of information fusion centers. Both Australia and the United States have mentioned the possibility of leading initiatives to create information fusion centers within the South Pacific region. While the involvement of both nations would be advantageous, increased coordination is necessary to avoid creating disparate systems. Australia’s previous contributions to maritime security in the South Pacific through initiatives like the Pacific Maritime Security Program, which have consistently provided law enforcement vessels and conducted aerial surveillance patrols for a dozen islands in the region, may make the country the more natural choice for leadership of future efforts in this area.

Building Security Assistance Capabilities: Acknowledging the Nexus Between Land and Sea 

The porous nature of the divide between land and sea, especially in the island nations of the South Pacific, means that governments need to coordinate security operations across both domains. As underscored in the Stable Seas report, Violence at Sea: How Insurgents, Terrorists, and Other Extremists Exploit the Maritime Domain, an overemphasis on one domain can result in increased activity in the neglected domain as illicit actors attempt to exploit areas with lower levels of security. Conflict-consolidation, post-conflict development, and transnational criminal operations, especially in recent conflict areas like the Solomon Islands, Bougainville, and Fiji, warrant stronger security assistance capabilities within the South Pacific. A maritime security emphasis during these operations makes inciting and sustaining armed conflict difficult. The interception of two large shipments of small arms to Fiji prior to the coups illustrates how non-state actors can utilize the maritime domain to support terrestrial agendas.

Inter-governmental organizations within the region have taken steps to allow for South Pacific island-led peacekeeping initiatives. In 2000, the PIF released the Biketawa Declaration, which outlines the procedure for collective actions at the behest of a member state or when a crisis necessitates intervention. The document created a legal basis for the deployment of the Regional Assistance Mission to Solomon Islands, which included 14 PIF member states, and lasted from 2013 to 2017. Limited resources and infrastructure within PIF, however, means the organization would face logistical difficulties without the explicit support of larger member states like New Zealand and Australia. Increased funding for the organization could result in greater autonomy in decision-making by smaller member states, giving them the opportunity to exploit their nuanced understanding of the political and cultural milieu, and emphasize the importance of human security in the maritime domain.

Foreign entities could also support locally-led peacekeeping efforts by helping create and then lend expertise to a Pacific Islands Peace Operations Training Centre (PI-POTC). Similar to the Australian Defense Force Peace Operations Training Center, the center would create an opportunity for an exchange of information and training with national and international institutions to develop capacities in line with international standards. The center’s pacific island leadership would allow peacekeeping training to continue reflecting the region’s political, cultural, and security dynamics and emphasize the important role of maritime security to the South Pacific islands.

How Can Aid Programs Increase Coordination?

The multitude of foreign entities and programs providing funding, training, assets, and issue-specific expertise through maritime security capacity-building programs can create duplication of efforts and inefficiencies in implementation. Contention has arisen, for example, over discrepancies in aid provisions made by China in comparison to western states. China provides support without requiring any prerequisites for aid provision. Western nations, however, tend to require that host-countries first meet political, social, and security conditions before providing aid in order to encourage responsible aid allocation and implementation. The differences in viewpoint have been exacerbated by recent geopolitical tensions in regard to China’s growing sphere of influence in the South China Sea, East China Sea, and the Indian Ocean. The $90 million wharf funded by China in Luganville, Vanuatu has parallels to China providing $1.3 billion in funds to build a port in Hambantota, where Sri Lanka’s inability to repay the loans resulted in debt entrapment.

New Zealand’s successful coordination with China on water infrastructure projects in the Cook Islands demonstrate that nations can overcome the geopolitical and institutional differences to find mutually agreeable solutions. While trilateral approaches between western states, China, and South Pacific islands have a future, recent disputes arising from the water infrastructure project in Cook Island show parties still need to improve coordination. The creation of a multilateral forum similar to the UN Development Cooperation Forum could form a neutral setting to facilitate transparency between traditional western donors and emerging donors like China in any future maritime security capacity-building efforts. 

Conclusion 

Given the strong influence of the maritime space on the national economies and local communities within the South Pacific, the deleterious effects of non-traditional threats to human security in the maritime domain are of significant concern to the island nations. By further enhancing MDA, maritime law enforcement capacity, and security assistance capabilities, local South Pacific island governments and multilateral organizations can protect their maritime-based economies. To maximize impact, foreign entities should integrate aid programs into existing local maritime initiatives. Closely involving local agencies, national governments, and regional organizations in the development and implementation phase can reduce the potential for redundancies and incompatibilities with existing initiatives.

Michael van Ginkel works at One Earth Foundation’s Stable Seas program where he researches Indo-Pacific maritime security. His research and publication background focuses primarily on conflict resolution and prevention. Michael graduated with distinction from the University of Glasgow where he received his master’s degree in conflict studies.

Featured Image: Members of the Vanuatu Police Force examine a map during a tour of the USNS Sacagawea as a part of Exercise Koa Moana 17, off the coast of Vanuatu, Aug. 19, 2017. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by MCIPAC Combat Camera Lance Cpl. Juan C. Bustos)

The Israeli Navy in a Changing Security Environment

Regional Strategies Topic Week

By Ehud (Udi) Eiran 

A Small Role to Play

Facing regional animosity since it was created in 1948, Israel evolved into a small regional power in the Middle East and Eastern Mediterranean. It deflected armed opposition to its existence in six major wars (1947-1949, 1956, 1967, 1968-1970, 1973, 1982) and multiple low-intensity armed clashes. Though it does not admit it publicly, it is probably the only nation in the region with nuclear weapons. It is further able to contain recent military challenges posed by the more effective non-state challengers, such as Hamas and Hezbollah.

The Israeli Navy, however, has played a relatively small role in Israel’s strategic posture over the years. Israelis generally did not view the sea as a source of threat, in part, due to the limited naval capabilities of their foes. A military doctrine that called for swift ground force action meant that even conflicts that had a maritime spark led to an Israeli resolution through an attack on the ground rather than the sea. The rise of the air force, especially since it played a crucial role in Israel’s swift victory in the 1967 war, left the navy as a secondary actor. The navy’s victories during the 1973 war, against the backdrop of initial failures on the ground and in the air, was still not enough to resurrect the navy’s status nor dim the public notion that the war as a whole was a national and military trauma. This state of affairs created a vicious circle in which no navy officers were promoted outside of the service. Indeed, 21 out of 22 Israeli Chiefs of Staff rose from the ground forces, and one from the air force.

The navy’s marginal role allowed it, perhaps paradoxically, to transform itself rather dramatically a number of times within a few decades. Initially it relied on a small number of frigates and destroyers, mostly older ships that Britain used during the Second World War. Other vessels included torpedo boats and landing crafts. Severely underfunded, the navy also trained, during its first decades, civilian crafts, to serve under its command in case of a war. By the early 1970s, the force transformed itself by focusing on French and Israeli-made fast corvettes. Though inferior to their Egyptian and Syrian foes, these boats performed most effectively during the 1973 war. By the 1980s, Israel had deployed some two dozen of these corvettes.

The late 1960s also saw a transformation in Israel’s small navy SEAL unit (Shayetet 13). Israel’s occupation of the Sinai Peninsula and one side of the Suez Canal created a longer maritime boundary with its largest foe at the time, Egypt. The protracted war of attrition between the two (1968-1970) created multiple opportunities for the SEALS to hone their capabilities in seaborne ground assaults. In the following decades, the unit emerged as perhaps Israel’s top combat special operations unit.

Israeli Naval Transformation

We are now in the midst of a third Israeli naval transformation, and probably the most dramatic one. For the first time in the navy’s history, it is assuming a role at the heart of at least two core Israeli national interests: dealing with an existential aspect of the challenge posed by Iran, and securing Israel’s energy supplies. For at least two decades, Israel viewed an Iran armed with a nuclear weapon as its primary security threat. Alongside an effort to curtail the Iranian nuclear project, it seems that Israel is preparing a second-strike capability for the day Iran will acquire an atomic weapon. Since 1999, Israel has acquired nine Dolphin and Dakar class conventional submarines, and by 2020 has commissioned six of them. Produced in Germany, it is largely believed that they could carry cruise missiles with the capability of delivering a nuclear weapon, though Israel never admitted that it has this capability, nor, as noted, that it has any nuclear weapons at all.

INS Dolphin of the Israeli Navy (Wikimedia Commons)

The second task that propelled the navy is the defense of Israel’s maritime energy assets. Starting in the late 1990s, Israel began to discover natural gas fields in its exclusive economic zone in the Mediterranean Sea. A 2010 discovery of the massive Leviathan field secured Israel’s energy independence for decades to come. By 2019, some 64 percent of Israeli energy was produced from its seaborne gas. The massive gas depots also allowed for exports to regional actors (Jordan, Egypt ,and possibly the Palestinian Authority), and serve as a basis for an alliance with Cyprus and Greece which includes a plan to lay a pipe that will deliver the gas to Europe.

However, the major fields of Tamar and Leviathan are close to Israel’s maritime boundary with Lebanon, and some other crucial facilities (such as the Tamar gas rig) are near the maritime boundary with Hamas-controlled Gaza. Although many of the assets are outside Israel’s territorial waters (but in its exclusive economic zone) and indeed are partially owned by non-Israeli corporations, the government decided in 2013 that the Israel Defense Force – in effect, the navy – will be made responsible for their protection. The new responsibility led to further naval procurement of four Sa’ar 6 corvettes from Germany.

Natural gas in the Eastern Mediterranean (2017 graphic via Al Jazeera)

The significant expansion of the naval force created opportunities for graft. For the first time in Israeli history, a former commander of the navy is likely to be indicted for bribery related to the deals. Other suspects include close associates of Prime Minister Netanyahu, which led to public calls, including by numerous former military leaders, to investigate his role in the navy-related bribery case.

Significant Maritime Developments

Two other developments highlighted the navy’s emerging significance. First, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or at least its armed manifestations, was largely relocated from the land-locked West Bank, to the Gaza Strip, on the Mediterranean shore. Since 2007, Israel has been blockading the region, with much of the effort directed at preventing sea access. One recent indication of the centrality of the maritime security arena, was the revelation that Israeli intelligence penetrated Hamas’ maritime unit. In a dramatic escape, a senior officer in the unit defected to Israel in July 2020. Finally, Israel has mounted an effort to block supplies to its non-state foes such as Hamas and Hezbollah. This effort includes interdiction of vessels carrying arms hundreds of miles away from Israeli shores. For example, in 2014, Israeli naval forces boarded the Klos -C, a ship carrying arms from Iran to Hamas in Gaza, and brought it to Israel.

Hamas naval commandos after reaching Israel’s Zikim Beach during Operation Protective Edge in 2014 (Photo via Israeli Defense Force Spokesperson’s Unit)

Israel’s Maritime Future

Looking forward, the Israeli Navy is facing a number of challenges. First, if the tensions with Iran, which manifest themselves in occasional air strikes in Syria, will expand, the navy may be called to further develop capabilities to reach Iranian shores. Israel is 1,500 km away from Iran, and the sea is an attractive route to access the Islamic Republic. Israel’s recent normalization of its relationship with the UAE and Bahrain might also make future Israeli naval deployments in the Arabian Gulf easier. There is also talk of a possible Iranian naval station in Syria, which may bring the maritime conflict closer to home.

Second, Israel has been developing a military alliance with Greece and Cyprus. In light of emerging tensions between the two and Turkey, mostly in the maritime domain, Nicosia and Athens might expect Jerusalem to deploy naval assets in a show of support. Israel has never fought alongside an ally, and has been very careful to avoid any military commitment to others, and so a Hellenic expectation could force it to review its policies. Either way, even the shadow of a possible conflict with Turkey is expected to provide further significance to the Israeli Navy.

Finally, the signals of American retreat from the region allow other maritime powers to operate in the Eastern Mediterranean more freely. A Russian naval presence off the shores of Syria, and the occasional visit of Chinese vessels, suggest that the Israeli Navy should get prepared for an environment that has a larger number of, and more powerful, naval platforms. These could constrain the freedom of operation of the Israeli Navy in the future.

Ehud (Udi) Eiran is a Visiting Scholar, Department of Political Science, Stanford University and an Israel Institute lecturer, Department of Political Science, UC-Berkeley. He is a retired Israeli army officer, and a former assistant foreign policy advisor to the prime minister.

Featured Image: An Israeli Navy ship during a major exercise held in the Red Sea off the coast of Eilat, March 2016. (Photo via Israeli Defense Force spokesperson)

The Sino-Japanese Maritime Disputes in the East China Sea

Regional Strategies Topic Week

By Yoichiro Sato 

Introduction

In August 2020 China lifted the annual summer ban on its fleet’s fishing in the East China Sea (ECS). Amid speculation that China may use the opportunity to assert its claim over the Japanese-controlled Senkaku Islands, U.S. and Japanese naval forces conducted a joint exercise in the ECS to deter China. While much focus is paid to the Chinese claim of sovereignty over the Senkakus (China calls them Diaoyu), the dispute over the islands is partially nested within a larger dispute over the broader Exclusive Economic Zone(EEZ)/Continental Shelf boundary dispute between the two countries. As such, the implications of the islands’ sovereignty over the broader maritime boundary dispute and the respective strategies of China and Japan warrant closer examination.

East China Sea Claims and Disputes

United Nations Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) Article 57 defines the limitation of exclusive economic zones (EEZs), which are permissible up to 200 nautical miles from the baseline or to the median line if claims from opposing coasts overlap. Meanwhile, UNCLOS Article 76 defines the extended continental shelf, permissible to the shorter of the end of the continental shelf or 350 nautical miles from the baseline. Japan cites the median line as the maritime boundary, while China cites the limitation of the extended continental shelf as the boundary. The two states’ claims overlap in approximately 81,000 square miles of water.

The Senkaku Islands reside within the overlapping maritime zones. While Japan is not using the Senkakus’ baseline for further pushing the median line EEZ claim northwestward, the islands’ location on the very continental shelf China is claiming is of legal-strategic value. Japan’s possession of the Senkaku Islands would not yield a Japanese claim (equal to China’s) to the same continental shelf, which would favor a median line boundary. However, a potential Japanese claim of an EEZ deriving from the possession of the Senkaku Islands would require a boundary adjustment over a broad area of a new overlap. All this, however, is contingent upon the extended continental shelf limitation being in principle adopted as the maritime boundary.

Japan Coast Guard vessel PS206 Houou sails in front of Uotsuri island, one of the disputed islands, called Senkaku in Japan and Diaoyu in China, in the East China Sea August 18, 2013. (Photo via Reuters/Ruairidh Villar)

It is not likely that China’s claim of the extended continental shelf boundary becomes an internationally recognized boundary over the Japanese claim of the median line. Extended continental shelf claims have been recognized when they were undisputed, and any dispute must be first negotiated between the concerned parties. China is exploiting natural gas from the ECS seabed, but it has stopped short of digging inside the Japan-claimed EEZ. Some rigs are close to the median line, and Japan since 2005 has demanded the sharing of geological survey data to ensure gas is not siphoned from the Japanese side of the median line. China has refused sharing data and instead in 2008 agreed to “joint development” of the Chunxiao field. However, the terms of “joint development” were never agreed upon, and China has unilaterally operated Chunxiao and other new fields along the median line since then. A Chinese proposal to jointly develop another field inside the Japan-claimed EEZ was rejected by Japan.

The significance of the Senkaku Islands is thus their relevance to the broader maritime boundary disputes in the ECS due to their location inside disputed waters.1 This is in contradiction to the commonly held view that the dispute over the islands themselves generates a proximate EEZ dispute.

Japan’s strategy is that it retains administrative control within the disputed waters as much as possible. Japan has not allowed any Chinese gas exploitation (including joint ventures) inside the disputed waters. Chinese fishery enforcement within the disputed waters is limited to Chinese fishing vessels. Japan has also vehemently protested against Chinese public vessels entering the territorial waters around the Senkaku Islands and protected Japanese fishing vessels from possible interdictions by the Chinese.

China’s strategy is that it challenges Japan’s administrative control (wherever and whenever it can without starting a physical conflict) in order to register its “evidence” of administrative control. The level of presence of Chinese Coast Guard vessels inside the territorial waters of the Senkaku Islands set a new record in 2020. On one occasion, a Chinese vessel pursued a Japanese fishing vessel, inviting a Japanese Coast Guard vessel to place itself in between them in order to prevent an interdiction.

Number of Chinese government vessels in Senkakus’ contiguous zone/territorial sea 2009-present (CSIS/Asia Maritime Transparency Initiative)

Chinese presence inside the contiguous waters (24 nautical miles) around the Senkaku Islands has been more frequent, but the legal implications are far less tangible. The types of permissible control inside contiguous zones are limited to “customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary laws and regulations” (UNCLOS Article 33), which are largely irrelevant to the uninhabited Senkakus. Outside the territorial waters of the Senkaku Islands, interdicting Japanese fishing vessels within the broader overlapping claims would run a greater risk of Japanese reactions because doing so would violate the explicit bilateral agreement to limit themselves to law enforcement against their own respective national registered vessels within the disputed waters. China has thus far abided by this agreement. 

Conclusion

The two countries’ strategies are mutually deadlocked. The dilemma China faces is that while the presence of the Senkaku Islands under Japanese control potentially weakens China’s extended continental shelf claim, challenging Japanese control of the Senkakus will likely push Japan to resort to international legal arbitration over the sovereignty of the Senkakus and the overlapping claims in the broader ECS. That would raise the stakes and the risks of losing for China. The present deadlock over the ECS, under which China exploits energy resources and fisheries with little constraint, has allowed China tangible economic benefits. Japan, on the other hand, has attempted to defuse Chinese pressure on the Senkakus by not pushing the ECS boundary issue too hard, while retaining this card.

Yoichiro Sato is a professor at Ritsumeikan Asia Pacific University in Beppu, Japan.

References

1. Yoichiro Sato, “Japan’s Maritime Security: Continuity and Post-Cold War Evolution,” Maritime Security in East and Southeast Asia: Political Challenges in Asian Waters (Routledge, 2017; edited by Nicholas Tarling and Xin Chen), pp. 125-144.

Featured Image: In this Sept. 24, 2012 file photo, Japan Coast Guard vessels, right, and rear, sail along with Chinese surveillance ship Haijian No. 66, left, near disputed islands, called Senkaku in Japan and Diaoyu in China, in the East China Sea. (AP Photo/Kyodo News, File)