Category Archives: Regional Strategies Week

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)

Boats, Budget, and Boots: The Colombian Navy’s Challenges in International Cooperation

Regional Strategies Topic Week

By Rafael Uribe Neira

Introduction

In recent years the Colombian Navy has undergone a well-planned but less-than-well executed modernization to exert sea control and counter regional threats in both the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean. After significant changes in doctrine and procurement, the institution still struggles to contribute to regional security despite being a key U.S. partner in the region. More than a decade of doctrinal transformations and a more determined role in international cooperation and defense diplomacy runs the risk of losing momentum and clarity. At least three issues speak of the encroaching challenges the navy must face in order to consolidate itself into what it calls a “medium regional force projection navy.” Serious problems in the procurement of new frigates, budgetary issues, and an oversized force structure are working against the navy’s ambitions. Because of the Colombian security forces’ resilience, and particularly the navy’s institutional capabilities, the country’s military has the potential to creatively adapt its scarce resources to provide security against common threats, but it is facing a string of obstacles along the way.

Colombia’s Success Story and the Role of the Navy 

The Colombian Navy has engaged in maritime security cooperation since the early 1990s through the signing of understanding agreements with the U.S. and regional navies to fight drug trafficking. By the mid-2000s, the value of international cooperation was institutionally acknowledged in the Naval Strategic Plans, but second to the need to counter domestic insurgencies and their sources of income. As with the other branches of the Colombian military, the actual value of international cooperation was mainly seen in the reception of security assistance rather than providing security in the international arena.

This trend, however, changed in 2008 with successes the security forces achieved against the insurgencies within the country. By 2009, the Ministry of Defense (MinDefensa) acknowledged the increasing value of the capabilities Colombian security forces gained in the fight against drug traffickers and guerrillas and its potential to offer solutions to similarly crisis-ridden countries worldwide. This has led to the acknowledgement that the Colombian Navy is not only a recipient of military aid, but also a net security provider and exporter. This has spurred its maritime ambitions. Through the Plan Estratégico Naval 2015-2018 (Naval Strategic Plan 2015-2018) and the Plan Naval de Desarrollo 2030 (Naval Development Plan 2030 or NDP 2030), the navy articulated for the first time the purpose of consolidating itself as a “medium regional force projection navy.” This plan, among other changes, devised a vision of the navy able to exert defense diplomacy, to take part in peacekeeping missions, and to export security in the form of training courses utilizing experience earned in longstanding internal conflicts against insurgencies.

Along with the continuing formulation of security and foreign policy, the Colombian Navy takes part in international naval exercises to signal its willingness to interact in multilateral security fora. Colombia has participated in in multinational exercises such as SIFOREX, UNITAS, RIMPAC, TRADEWINDS, and PANAMAX for years. The deployment of the offshore patrol vessel 7 de Agosto to the Horn of Africa to support the multinational force Atalanta and NATO’s Operation Ocean Shield between 2015 and 2016 (although not officially part of it) marked a turning point. These deployments constituted a robust step to qualify Colombia as a NATO “Global Partner” in 2018 and establish the country as a reliable partner capable of providing counterterrorism and maritime security support.

Sailors from Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam handle mooring lines from the Colombian navy corvette ARC Narino (CM-55) during its arrival for a scheduled port visit. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Tiarra Fulgham/Released)

Many of these transformations can also be understood as the result of sustained investment of U.S. security and economic aid. Since the late 1990s, plans such as Plan Colombia, now renamed Paz Colombia (Colombia Peace) and most recently Colombia Crece, (U.S.-Colombia Growth Initiative) this year have helped to train and modernize the military forces to the point of being considered a success story, whose results should and can be replicated in other parts of the region and the world. In this sense, Colombia stands as a reliable regional actor for U.S. foreign policy to provide security solutions in both the Caribbean and the Pacific Ocean. However, such trends are not exempt from challenges and strategic uncertainty in the short and medium term.

Between Big Ambitions and Serious Drawbacks: Major Combat Vessels  

Colombia’s expansive ambition to assert itself as a capable regional security actor also meant a reevaluation of current and future naval assets. Since 2015, the Plan Orion, Plan Puente, and Plan Faro (Plans Orion, Bridge and Lighthouse) intended to replace Colombia’s aging major ships. As a result, the navy acquired two second-hand German Type 206A submarines from the German Navy in 2012 to replace the old, Italian SX-506 submarines, and modernized the two existent Type 209/1200 submarines. Additionally, it built three offshore patrol vessels (OPVs) in Colombia with a license provided by the German shipyard Fassmer. Plan Faro also initiated what many consider the “crown jewel” of the Colombian Navy: the PES program.

The PES program stands for Plataforma Estratégica de Superficie (Strategic Surface Platform). It calls for the construction of up to eight frigates displacing 5,000 tons to replace the four German-made frigates of the Almirante Padilla class (FS 1500 – Howaldtswerke-Deutsche Werft, Kiel) currently in service.

However, some of these plans have suffered increasing delays. Only three out of four OPVs have been built and the PES project has reduced its scope and suffered delays despite only having reached the design phase. As a consequence, the new frigates projected will be limited to about 3,500 tons and their number will be reduced to only five vessels. They are no longer going to be built by 2027 or 2028 and no new date has been set. By 2019, there was no progress in the development of the PES project, as stated in COTECMAR’s 2019 report. So far the navy has put into service a donated South Korean corvette and declared the need to buy two second-hand frigates to fill the created gap. Among the possible candidates are Australian, Spanish, British Type 23, and German Bremen-Class (F-122) frigates. Any decision concerning the future selected vessels should take place next year, according to informed voices in Colombia close to the procurement process.

As stated in the Plan de Desarollo Naval 2042 (Naval Development Plan 2042 or NDP 2042) released earlier this year, the navy placed the PES program under the so-called PROCYON program. PROCYON (Fleet Building and Optimization Plan) also includes the PLOTEOS program which calls for the replacement of the four submarines in the silent fleet, the building of a logistics support ship, four additional patrol vessels, two amphibious transport docks, and at least one new maritime patrol airplane.

Vital to the success of these platforms is the growing shipyard industry and particularly COTECMAR (Science and Technology Corporation for the Development of Naval, Maritime and Riverine Industry), the state-owned shipyard company. The experience collected by the local maritime industry in the building of locally-designed riverine and seaworthy vessels contributes to work on the planned frigates and other major combatants. In Colombia, COTECMAR built Patrulleras de Apoyo Fluvial (Riverine Support Patrol Ships or PAF) type ships. The PAFs are domestically designed and used by the Colombian Marines for inshore security on the rivers and inland waters of Colombia, providing a cost-efficient solution for marines in domestic security operations.

The positive experiences earned at home with the PAFs helped raise the ambitions and scale of naval shipbuilding. In this sense, COTECMAR continued through the construction of coastal patrol vessels (CPV), three already-in-duty offshore patrol vessels (OPV) built between 2008 and 2017, and more recently an oceanographic vessel with Antarctic seagoing capabilities, as well as five Golfo de Tribugá class amphibious landing crafts (680 tons each). The Golfo de Tribugá class is particularly relevant, as it constitutes an international success for the Colombian shipyard industry. As important as the domestic market is, COTECMAR actively seeks to create new sources of revenue by selling crafts for dual-use, i.e. for civil and military purposes. Strategic partners such as Central American states procured amphibious landing crafts, which can be used for military operations or humanitarian aid relief operations. In 2019 and 2017, COTECMAR delivered two intercepting speed boats (Multi-Mission Interceptor 35 or MMI 35) used to fight drug trafficking and a logistics support vessel to the Honduran Naval Force for $13.5 million, as already discussed by Alejandro Wilder Sánchez on CIMSEC. A similar support vessel was sold to the Guatemalan Navy (Armada de Guatemala) for $11.7 million in 2019.

Despite these modest achievements, it remains to be seen whether the national industry will take root and be competitive in the coming years against well-established international shipyards. Additionally, and as Sánchez also pointed out, the low volume of orders from international markets puts Latin-American shipyards in dire need of establishing a brand. For the Colombian case this means that there is still a long way to go before COTECMAR and Colombian maritime ambitions can be credible actors in the region capable of building frigates. In consonance with the imperatives of such long-termed planning, the National Development Plan uses a timeframe of 20 years or five presidential administrations to replace its main surface and submarine vessels.

Budgetary Issues, Navy Size, and Security Cooperation

A more pressing difficulty in putting into motion the plans of constructing new platforms lies in the growing budgetary issues MinDefensa has faced in the last years. Although the Colombian budget for security and defense is the second largest in Latin America after Brazil’s at $10.8 billion (2019), military spending for procurement is dwindling. In fact, $466 million or about 4.3 percent of the defense budget was allocated for acquiring military hardware in 2019. In comparison, MinDefensa still allocated 9.1 percent to procurement in 2011, a number that diminished to 5 percent by 2017, according to a report on defense and security spending by the National Office of the Inspector General. For 2020, the budget for procurement further shrank to 2.9 percent.

The navy naturally does not escape this trend. While its budget has been relatively stable at between 6 percent and 7 percent of defense spending in Colombia, the share of procurement has steadily decreased as well. According to the NDP 2042, the navy invested 19 percent in the acquisition and replacement of new material in 2011. By 2019, that number had decreased to 10 percent. The bulk of navy spending is for personnel. During the same timeframe it grew from 57 percent to 69 percent. For the Armada Nacional, increased spending on personnel means fewer resources for procurement and other vital investments, which enable the projection of capabilities in the region.

Most worrisome is the fact that the navy does not seem to seriously tackle this issue in the NDP 2042. The institution puts its hopes in a budget it anticipates will increase in the future and which will result in a more competitive maritime market than the navy is currently boosting. The navy defines itself as a force, which will reduce its personnel spending by about 50 percent by 2042 without detailing how it plans to cut back and prioritize other items in the coming years. In practical terms, the navy expects the political leadership to increase its budget to put in motion the needed investments at some point in the future. Nevertheless, an economy hit with a worldwide pandemic and a resulting 15.7 percent loss in GDP makes that less than likely in the coming years.

Instead of pressing for a larger budget, it would make sense to reconsider the size and purpose of the Colombian Marine Corps, which makes up the bulk of the Colombian Navy. Traditionally used to combat insurgents, criminal organizations, and employed to extend the state’s reach in the most remote areas, the Colombian Marines do not possess relevant coastal defense capabilities or the required capabilities for amphibious power projection. When compared to similar forces in the region the Colombian Marine Corps is clearly oversized. According to a recent chapter in The Military Balance journal, the navy relies on a force of 56,400 men and women, while the Colombian Marines amount to almost half of that number: 22,250, which is larger than equivalent units such as the Brazilian (16,000) or the Mexican Marines (21,500). Offsetting this large size however is the fact that that the Colombian Navy does not use junior enlisted personnel and relies on marine conscripts for those jobs, inflating the size of the marine corps relative to the navy.

Although Colombian Marines also have the responsibility for securing all of Colombia’s considerable river system, which has over 18,000 kilometers of navigable waterways, many of their responsibilities overlap with those of the Colombian National Police and face the need to change with a transformation in domestic security. This naturally belongs to a larger discussion about the roles of the security forces after the 2016 peace agreement. Despite its disproportionate size, there is no plan to downsize the amphibious branches in the coming 20 years. The NDP 2042 mentions no restructuring other than increasing urgent capabilities.

Reducing the size of the naval infantry has the potential to free up valuable resources, which could be used to equip the force with specialized capabilities and deploy it to peacekeeping missions. Strengthening projects such as the building of two amphibious ships (LPDs) and the navy’s CENCOPAZ (Training Center for Peacekeeping) is a clear step in the right direction. CENCOPAZ co-leads the training of peacekeepers in Colombia and constitutes one of those national centers in which the Colombian security forces train to share their know-how in riverine operations, humanitarian de-mining, and anti-kidnapping.

Despite the progress in adapting the navy for more intense international cooperation, there are concerning trends it should seriously address. The projected LPDs are still in their conceptual stage and do not have the priority the PES program enjoys. Even with Colombia cooperating with NATO as a “Global Partner” as military-political enticement for international cooperation, plans to send navy peacekeepers as part of UN or NATO missions have seen little progress. Between 2014 and December 2019, MinDefensa reports 858 “certified soldiers” for peacekeeping operations out of 5,000 it originally planned to put through the training. The navy offers a slightly different number: in its 2015-2018 management report it states that CENCOPAZ trained 909 military, police, and civilian members in different courses for UN peacekeeping missions between 2015 and 2018, and points out that 687 (76 percent) come from the navy.

A Sober Look at the Future

The development of the Colombian Navy in the last decade has revealed an assertive regional naval force with the potential to evolve into a provider of regional security. This vision has materialized under the purpose of becoming a “medium regional force projection navy” with the right tools to exert sea control and cooperate with others to share what the Colombian military has learned during its historical fight against insurgencies and criminals.

All of this, however, seems to be at risk. There are at least three caveats to Colombian ambitions for international cooperation that are manifesting themselves in the navy. First, a well-structured procurement program intended to replace key combatants like frigates, has lost momentum. Second, naval defense spending leaves little leeway for the navy since manpower costs are hampering the ability to acquire the right tools to fulfill institutional missions. This, thirdly, intimately relates to the disproportionate size of the Colombian Marine Corps. They also have the potential to project the security solutions against terrorism and drug trafficking the national military is proud of, but can only be effective if they decrease in size.

In this context, the Armada Nacional should start thinking more about creating a slimmer and more effective navy in the face of political uncertainty, low budgets, and probably a long-lasting pandemic in Latin America. Otherwise, it may compromise its future of securing peace through international cooperation. 

Rafael Uribe Neira graduated in Juny 2020 with distinction from M.A. Peace and Conflict Studies at the Otto-von-Guericke University in Magdeburg, Germany. He focuses his research on civil-military relations, narratives in security aid, and lots of pop culture. Since his time as a research assistant at the Institute for Security Policy at Kiel University (ISPK) in the fall of 2018 and as an intern at the UN in Colombia in Winter 2018/2019, he developed a keen interest in the Caribbean and its global ties. Follow him on Twitter @RafaelUribeN.

Featured Image: Colombian Marines board an amphibious assault vehicle at the beach in Ancon, Peru, July 16, 2010. (Wikimedia Commons)