Maritime Security

A Sustainable Approach to Counter Piracy and Armed Robbery?

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By Julian Pawlak and Deniz Kocak

Piracy, armed robbery, and kidnapping continue to pose significant threats to global shipping and maritime security.1 While the terms are frequently used synonymously, differentiation is crucial. According to the United Nations Convention on Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), piracy is defined as “any illegal acts of violence or detention, or any act of depredation, committed for private ends […] (i) on the high seas, against another ship or aircraft, or against persons or property on board such ship or aircraft [or] (ii) in a place outside the jurisdiction of any state.” Armed robbery against ships encompasses “any illegal act of violence or detention or any act of depredation, or threat thereof, other than an act of piracy, committed for private ends and directed against a ship or against persons or property on board such a ship, within a state’s internal waters, archipelagic waters and territorial sea”.2

In recent decades, piracy incidents, especially off the Horn of Africa, reached high levels, impairing regional shipping and trade from the early 2000s onward. Despite initial containment by joint international efforts, maritime security issues have increasingly drawn attention to the Gulf of Guinea. The International Maritime Bureau (IMB) Piracy Reporting Centre noted an increase from 162 incidents in 2019 to 195 in 2020, with the majority occurring in the Gulf of Guinea. In 2020 alone, 135 crew members were kidnapped in 22 separate incidents, with 95% of these kidnappings happening in the Gulf. Notably, reported incidents have declined within the following years, only to increase again in 2023 in the Gulf of Guinea. As overall numbers are constant (115 incidents in 2022, 120 incidents in 2023, 116 incidents in 2024), piracy and armed robbery remain relevant maritime security issues on a global scale. The numbers for the Gulf of Guinea developed from the high of 81 in 2020 towards 35 in 2021, 19 in 2022, 22 in 2023 and 18 incidents reported in 2024, marking a stark decrease within five years. In the past, however, international shipping companies and security analysts have raised alarms over the increasing number of incidents. These concerns led to significant actions, such as the deployment of a Royal Danish Navy frigate to the region in November 2021. However, relying solely on “piracy counting” and the “politics of numbers” to assess maritime security remain misleading. Given its multifaceted nature, addressing maritime security requires more comprehensive measures, including capacity building, training, and advising local security forces.3 These efforts involve both local and external stakeholders and are complemented by a coordinated, though voluntary, EU-Gulf of Guinea strategy and action plan. With a growing emphasis on local ownership in security policies, it raises the question of whether actors such as the European Union can or should play a long-term, sustainable role in the region.

IMB Director Michael Howlett recently highlighted concerns about the Gulf of Guinea, noting an uptick in maritime security incidents. Howlett emphasized the importance of regional ownership in safeguarding shipping and trade to counter criminal activities. Rather than simply combating piracy to stabilize Sea Lines of Communication (SLOCs) without a comprehensive plan, European nations and the European Union could assist littoral states in developing sustainable strategies to curb piracy and armed robbery in the Gulf of Guinea. The maritime sector, inherently suited for international cooperation, could benefit significantly from a broad Maritime Security Sector Reform that leverages local ownership and the existing Yaoundé architecture.

Maritime Security and Maritime Security Sector Reform

Security Sector Reform (SSR) has become increasingly important in international development assistance, policy-making, and academic circles since the late 1990s. SSR involves creating a security governance framework that adheres to democratic norms, legitimate civilian oversight, and transparent, accountable practices. A critical element of SSR is establishing a civilian oversight function over key national security institutions. Because SSR extends beyond mere technical assistance to encompass control over the use of force, a core aspect of national sovereignty, it is fundamentally political.4

Maritime Security Sector Reform (MSSR) aims to enhance the governance capabilities of coastal states. This initiative requires a whole-of-government approach, especially focusing on ministries handling security, economic, financial, and judicial matters due to their interrelated duties.5 Key actions include developing or updating codes and protocols related to maritime security and law to equip enforcement agencies effectively. Additionally, creating knowledge resources for bureaucratic staff, establishing legitimate civilian oversight, and ensuring accountability and transparency are essential to achieving effective governance and institutional performance.

In addition to strengthening institutions, traditional capacity-building measures such as providing equipment and professional training are crucial to enable security forces to respond effectively and protect maritime interests.6 However, focusing solely on enhancing security capabilities does not constitute a comprehensive MSSR or SSR, as it does not fully strengthen governmental capacities across all governance areas, but rather falls under traditional security assistance. This holistic model necessitates including a broad range of state and non-state actors to foster ongoing interdisciplinary and cross-departmental dialogue. Successful cooperation relies on consensus and ensures that agreed-upon rules are consistently enforced.7

Reforms in a country’s maritime security sector can be initiated by external organizations like the United Nations or ECOWAS, but the actual implementation and sustainability of these reforms depend on local actors. Consequently, Security Sector Reform should primarily be a local endeavor. Therefore, MSSR is not a checklist exercise but must be precisely tailored to fit the specific local and regional conditions, accurately reflecting realities on the ground.8 This principle of local ownership finds successful application in the Western Indian Ocean, where Alexandre demonstrates how the region evolved from externally-driven responses to African-led frameworks through the Regional Maritime Security Architecture (RMSA), illustrating how regional actors can reclaim agency in maritime governance.

MSSR as a Comprehensive Approach

Initially, piracy incidents off the Horn of Africa were mitigated through significant naval interventions, including active anti-piracy operations and the deployment of armed private security contractors aboard civilian ships. Key operations such as NATO’s Operation Ocean Shield (2009-2016), the European Union Naval Force (EU NAVFOR) Somalia (since 2008), and the multinational Combined Task Force 151 (since 2009) played crucial roles. According to Dirk Siebels, these efforts were largely successful due to “unprecedented cooperation between naval forces and the shipping industry, as well as self-protection measures of merchant vessels, including the use of privately contracted armed security personnel.” This collaboration effectively reduced piracy and kept major shipping lanes open. However, these successes were mainly addressing the symptoms of deeper issues in Somalia, then considered a failed state. The ongoing issue of illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing by trawlers off the Somali coast has exacerbated unemployment and corruption, complicating efforts to end piracy, according to Percy and Shortland.9

Overall, fragile states and poor governance typically encourage piracy, smuggling, and IUU fishing. Areas with weak or no governmental control often become safe havens and operational bases for organized crime and piracy. Thus, addressing blue crime, piracy, and maritime insecurity effectively requires tackling the underlying problems of weak statehood in coastal states.

The conditions in the Horn of Africa and the Gulf of Guinea also differ significantly. The SLOCs crossing the Gulf of Guinea, while considered less critical on a global scale than those off the Horn of Africa, still play a vital role in local and African-European trade and should not be overlooked. Furthermore, while Somalia has transitioned from a failing to a failed state, and now to a fragile state, the Gulf of Guinea features several stable countries, though some face domestic security and stability issues. Comprehensive Maritime Security Sector Reform (MSSR) is a beneficial approach to address not just piracy but also further maritime insecurities like smuggling, marine pollution, and primarily IUU- fishing. This approach involves incorporating the needs and issues of littoral countries to address the broader spectrum of security challenges.10

In African waters, as Bueger accurately advises, “many nations need support in providing maritime security, while not undermining their sovereignty and regional integration processes.” Initiatives within the MSSR framework in the Gulf of Guinea must hence be seamlessly integrated with existing local efforts, such as the Nigerian Deep Blue project and Ghana’s National Integrated Maritime Strategy. These initiatives should extend beyond basic security assistance to include cooperation with regional economic communities, avoiding duplication of efforts or the creation of isolated structures. They should also promote international collaboration in the region and with external partners, leveraging frameworks like the African Union Security Sector Policy Framework, the Yaoundé Code of Conduct, and the Gulf of Guinea Declaration on Suppression of Piracy. In the words of Vice Admiral Ignacio Villanueva Serrano, Operation Commander, EU NAVFOR Atalanta, on the role of non-African states in regional maritime security: “Effective maritime security hinges on collaboration between non-African and African stakeholders, harmonizing external expertise with regional ownership.” These measures aim to minimize complications and disputes from cooperation efforts. The European Union’s Coordinated Maritime Presence in the Gulf of Guinea serves as a foundation for enhancing maritime security cooperation under the Yaoundé architecture.

What future course to follow?

Maritime security threats extend beyond territorial waters and national borders. Thus, intensified regional cooperation is essential for addressing insecurities in the Gulf of Guinea and surrounding areas. External actors like the European Union and its national naval units could lend their expertise in coordinating efforts, and offer training and capacity-building in maritime security and anti-piracy measures. However, such measures alone are insufficient to address the range of maritime insecurities, including piracy, armed robbery, IUU fishing, smuggling, and marine pollution. A comprehensive approach is necessary for sustained success. MSSR can significantly contribute to the gradual and enduring establishment of good governance in maritime affairs, ideally fostering the development of a robust security framework tailored to ocean governance.

A major challenge in securing the Gulf of Guinea lies not just in suppressing piracy and armed robbery but also in facilitating political negotiations and establishing firm cooperation among key African stakeholders. These include the littoral states, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), the Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS), and the European Union, which plays a supportive role in implementing sustained political reforms. The EU should seek close collaboration with local actors, stakeholders, and experts to effectively address these issues. As the region often adopts “emergency measures or policies […] to respond to the threat to the interests of external actors,” such as piracy,11 external interventions should instead bolster regional leadership and local ownership. Such support could be organized through coordinated MSSR efforts and continued naval initiatives like the EU’s Coordinated Maritime Presence, aiming to foster a more stable maritime environment. The importance of this shift toward regional ownership is underscored by successful examples elsewhere in African maritime spaces. Alexandre highlights how the Western Indian Ocean transformed from fragmented responses to comprehensive African-led frameworks, demonstrating how coastal states can move from “passive observers” to active stakeholders who shape maritime governance through “soft power” approaches.

Yet, it remains to be seen whether European naval capabilities can sustain another continuous deployment in non-European waters. Maritime Security Sector Reform might thus serve as a practical solution for enhancing maritime safety, implemented in collaboration with local actors and supported by experienced external stakeholders. Furthermore, considering the “collapse of Western influence in West Africa,” the approach should balance local “African ownership” with ongoing concerns for maritime security and maintaining long-term partnerships in the region. Since “maritime security remains a global responsibility,” the EU regards maintaining stability in the Gulf of Guinea as essential for its security interests.

Julian Pawlak and Deniz Kocak are researchers at the University of the Federal Armed Forces Hamburg and its adjunct interdisciplinary Research Network for Maritime Security (iFMS). This article is part of a collaborative initiative on rethinking maritime security in the face of global strategic change.

References

1. Jacobsen, Katja Lindskov (2022): The Politics of Piracy Numbers: The Gulf of Guinea Case, in: Ruxandra-Laura, Bosilca/ Ferreira, Susana/Ryan, Barry J. (eds.): Routledge Handbook of Maritime Security, Routledge: London, 127-138.

2. IMO Resolution A.1025 (26) “Code of Practice for the Investigation of Crimes of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships”.

3. Christian Bueger and colleagues define maritime security as an “umbrella term” covering four main areas: national security, the marine environment, economic development, and human security. These areas are closely interconnected and impact one another significantly. This broad and holistic perspective on security emphasizes “freedom from fear” and “freedom from want,” paving the way for a comprehensive approach to security that leads to Security Sector Reform (SSR). See Bueger, Christian/Edmunds, Timothy/Ryan, Barry J. (2019): Maritime security: The uncharted politics of the global sea, in: International Affairs 95, no. 5, pp. 971-978; Bueger, Christian/Edmunds, Timothy (2017): Beyond Seablindness: A new Agenda for Maritime Security Studies, in International Affairs 93, no. 6, pp. 1293-1311; Hough, Peter (2013): Understanding Global Security, Routledge: London. pp. 9f.

4. Schroeder, Ursula C./Chappuis, Fairlie/Kocak, Deniz (2014): Security Sector Reform and the Emergence of Hybrid Security Governance, in International Peacekeeping 21, no.2, pp. 214-230.

5. Sandoz, John F. (2012): Maritime Security Sector Reform, USIP Special Report 306. Washington, D.C.

6. ibid.

7. Schroeder, Ursula C./Chappuis, Fairlie/Kocak, Deniz (2014): Security Sector Reform and the Emergence of Hybrid Security Governance, in International Peacekeeping 21, no.2, pp. 214-230; Albrecht, Peter/Stepputat, Finn/Andersen, Louise (2010): Security sector reform, the European way, in: Sedra, Mark (ed.), The future of security sector reform, Centre for International Governance (CIGI): Waterloo, pp. 74-87.

8. Donais, Timothy (2008): Understanding Local Ownership in Security Sector Reform, in: Donais, Timothy (ed.), Local Ownership and Security Sector Reform, Lit: Münster, pp. 3-17; Nathan, Laurie (2008): The challenge of local ownership of SSR: From donor rhetoric to practice, in: Donais, Timothy (ed.), Local Ownership and Security Sector Reform, Lit: Münster, pp. 19-36.

9. Percy, Sarah/Shortland, Anja (2013): Contemporary Maritime Piracy: Five Obstacles to Ending Somali Piracy, Global Policy, 4: 65-72.

10. Siebels, Dirk (2018): Ships, guns, and laws. Threats to shipping in the Gulf of Guinea and potential countermeasures, Risk Intelligence Presentation, May 2018.

11. Iheduru, Okechukwu (2023): Hybrid Maritime Security Governance and Limited Statehood in the Gulf of Guinea: A Nigerian Case Study, in: Journal of Military and Strategic Studies, Vol 22, 3, p. 148.

Featured Image: Members of the Coast Guard Maritime Security Response Team‚ Direct Action Section secure a simulated terrorist aboard the Mississippi Canyon Block 582, Medusa Platform during a joint exercise May 21, 2014. (U.S. Coast Guard photo by Chief Petty Officer Robert Nash.)

Indo-Asia-Pacific

What the Royal Thai Navy’s Offshore Fire Support Reveals About Its Approach to Littoral Warfare

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By Hadrien T. Saperstein

In December 2025, clashes along the Cambodia–Thailand border turned into open conflict for over a week, suspending the peace agreement brokered by Malaysia and the United States. Artillery, rockets, drones, and airstrikes turned rural districts into battlespaces. By mid-month, at least twenty people were killed, hundreds wounded, and over half a million civilians displaced on both sides.

Although most of the fighting occurred on land, along the Chanthaburi–Trat front, the Royal Thai Navy launched Operation Trat Suppresses Foes. This operation consisted of a single patrol gunboat, HTMS Thepa, ordered to provide naval gunfire support from the Gulf of Thailand against fixed Cambodian positions ashore. Without the support of naval gunfire, it is unclear whether the detachment of Thai marines (RTMC) could have seized Ban Nong Ri even after it conducted a second concerted attempt to capture the area. A similar naval gunfire support mission took place last July during Operation Trat Strike 1, after Commander-in-Chief (CinC) Adm. Jirapol Wongwit (2024-25) personally assumed command of a task force of four ships to help the marine element retake the Ban Chamrak area.

This article uses these campaigns to investigate what it means when a recognized small navy from Southeast Asia uses naval gunfire support from the “littorals” to assist land forces fight a border conflict.1 The Thai case illuminates five points often underappreciated in the existing literature on the link between small navies, naval gunfire support, and littoral warfare.

First, the campaign reveals how littoral forces of small navies move along a continuum from peacetime constabulary tasks to combat roles without changing platforms, with greater fluidity than great-power navies. A highly cited work on small navies by Michael Mulqueen, Deborah Sanders, and Ian Speller argues that what distinguishes small navies from great-power fleets is not just less tonnage but their close attention to order of effect.2 Analogously, Alexander Bergström and Charlotta Parrat’s study of littoral warfare highlights how the operational environment for small navies of coastal states differs from that of blue-water fleets, with less attention given to ship-on-ship battle engagements, and how the same concepts can play out differently during naval gunfire support missions.3

Though the Thai navy remains attuned to the U.S. Navy’s surface way of warfare through its four decades of participation in Cooperation Afloat Readiness and Training (CARAT) and Cobra Gold exercises, it is a commonly held view inside the service that its Littoral Operations in a Contested Environment (LOCE) concept is not applicable to the Thai navy, as recently noted in a critical commentary by Captain Silp Panturangsri.4 Given Thailand’s current fleet force, the ships that can perform this role are limited: a very small number of frigates and offshore patrol vessels (OPVs), plus aging patrol gunboats to which HTMS Thepa belongs. This gunboat [vessel] is the same one that boarded Vietnamese trawlers illegally fishing in territorial waters only a few months ago, under the direction of Vice Adm. Apha Chapanon (2024-25), Director of Maritime Security Area 1 (MECC-A1), and is now delivering naval gunfire support into a neighboring state.

Second, the campaign reveals how small navies repurpose doctrine written for expeditionary amphibious operations for supporting forces engaged in border conflicts from littoral waters. Most navies, especially those of small states, do not address the problems of conducting naval operations in narrow seas and therefore lack a stand-alone concept for littoral warfare.

This is only somewhat the case with the Thai navy. According to interviews conducted by the author with Royal Thai Navy officers, the service possesses a stand-alone concept for naval gunfire support for land forces in the classified version of its Surface Combat Operations Manual (อทร. 3101). Though the manual’s contents cannot be confirmed, its understanding of naval gunfire support can be inferred from other sources, like the Surface Warfare Curriculum (see Appendix ค), which holds that surface and subsurface ships in coordination with coastal artillery do train to conduct Over-the-Horizon Targeting (OTH-T) during land combat operations.

Yet, as its 2003 general maritime doctrine (อทร. 8001) reveals, the Thai navy can also draw on two decades of amphibious doctrine, courses, and exercises to further inform the conduct of naval gunfire support missions (see page 35). Doctrinally, since 2001, its amphibious warfare manual Operations in Amphibious Warfare (อทร. 3430) has framed coastal operations as joint sea–air–land campaigns in which naval gunfire support is central to enabling troops ashore. Following the adoption of the Network Centric Warfare Plan in 2015, the Fleet Training Command received permission to revise its training course on amphibious operations (Appendices C and D) in 2020 to improve its training for sailors planning specific phases from embarkation to landing and to ensure that it integrates its naval gunfire with air support and land logistics from other service branches.5 A new interpretation of its amphibious doctrine was issued in 2021 and then tested under the oversight of former Thai navy Commander-in-Chief (CinC) Adm. Chatchai Sriworakhan and RTMC CinC Adm. Sorakrai Sirikarn in a high-profile beach landing exercise at Ban Thon, Narathiwat. It sought to validate both the updated amphibious doctrine and the 2020 force deployment guide (แนวทางการใช้กำลังของกองทัพเรือ พ.ศ. 2563). The effort to further integrate its amphibious forces with others has been followed up by bureaucratic reform inside the Thai navy in 2024, guided by the Bureaucratic 4.0 policy, leading to even greater inter-service coordination during naval gunfire support missions.

Third, the campaign reveals how littoral warfare in Southeast Asia is inseparable from generating humanitarian risk. Milan Vego’s work on littoral warfare has highlighted how operations close to shore are not only inherently joint and tactically compressed but conducted in proximity to civilians and critical infrastructure.6

In the littoral waters across Southeast Asia, firing naval guns at targets just inland is sure to occur in a space crowded with villagers, roads, and border infrastructure. The Thai navy’s 2016 Operating Standards Manual includes guidance on controlling collateral damage by coordinating with coastal communities during both live-fire training and active operations. For them, this is the real face of littoral war: older ships operating in the littorals with their every round fired carrying not just explosive but legal and political weight.

Fourth, the campaign reveals how the concept of littoral warfare keeps evolving. Friedner Parrat’s longue-durée study of Swedish coastal defense advances that coastal navies evolve as understandings of “what war is” change, shaped as much by shifting norms as by geography or technology.7 Small states enabled a novel norm around littoral warfare during the post-Cold War era through the advent of international maritime law.8 Though their sea power still lies fundamentally in maintaining the guiding spirit of international law, small navies are now leading the charge to change normative behavior in littoral warfare through innovative naval technologies.9,10 This altogether affirms that sea power increasingly belongs to small navies of coastal states and not necessarily that of great-power blue-water navies.

The Thai navy is participating in the changing of norms around littoral warfare, acting on its long-held desire to be a “leading” maritime security provider in its region and beyond since at least the late 2000s. This role was reaffirmed by former Defense Minister Sutin Klungsang at the 2024 Shangri-La Dialogue, by chairing intergovernmental organizations tackling climate-related security issues. The navy is not hesitant to deploy its sea power in littoral warfare when it believes its maritime interests are at stake, even if the operations have the potential to result in civilian casualties, like when hitting casino complexes.

Finally, the campaign reveals how navies can be motivated to participate in littoral operations not just in the pursuit of material benefits, as in assisting land forces acquire potential or claimed resources, but also by nonmaterial factors, such as rising nationalism or irredentism in domestic politics.11 Small navies, even more so than great-power navies, are driven by status-seeking behavior, often at the expense of immediate material returns.12 The concept of “amphibiosity” has been presented by the naval theorist Steven Paget to describe the way small navies invest in amphibious capabilities and rhetoric not only for operational reasons but as a way of enhancing their standing within national force structures and among partners.13

The Thai navy is no exception. It also regularly mobilizes fleet forces to participate in littoral warfare engagements to generate status enhancement. The service remains, like most navies, an organization eager to preserve a good image abroad, a factor that undergirded its construction of a maritime security establishment that accords with the standards of the Western international liberal order.14 The Master Plan under the 20-Year National Strategy requires domestic agencies to pay close attention to Thailand’s positional status in international affairs (see page 9). Looking more broadly at Southeast Asia, this attention to nonmaterial factors has been missed in the debates on whether a naval arms race is currently under way in Southeast Asia.[15] The special attention that small navies from Southeast Asia give to emerging technologies is likely linked more to the social “recognition” dilemma than to the classic “security” dilemma.16

The offshore fire support in Trat is more than a tactical vignette of the first and second Cambodia–Thailand conflicts of 2025. The engagement offers a concrete example of how a Southeast Asian small navy uses participation in littoral engagements to satisfy its state’s limited ends, all the while operating under doctrinal, political, and humanitarian constraints along a continuum from constabulary patrol to traditional naval gunfire support

Hadrien T. Saperstein is a Ph.D. Scholar in International Relations from the London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE). His research bridges maritime strategic thought, international relations theory, and small navies from Southeast Asia. His articles on Thailand have previously appeared in Strife Journal, New Mandala, Asia Centre, Future Directions International, 9DashLine, and East Asia Forum. A forthcoming dissertation-turned-book that offers the first comprehensive history of the Royal Thai Navy is in the works.

References

1. On the definition and international law around littorals, see Prashant Kahlon. “War on the Coastline: Mitigating Civilian Harm in the Littorals.” Humanitarian Law & Policy. May 17, 2023.

2. Michael Mulqueen, Deborah Sanders, and Ian Speller. Small Navies: Strategy and Policy for Small Navies in War and Peace (London, UK: Routledge, 2014).

3. Alfred Bergström and Charlotta Parrat. “Two Perspectives on Littoral Warfare.” Defence Studies 22, No. 3 (2022): 433-47.

4. Gregory Raymond. “Cobra Gold over Four Decades: Hedging, Alliances and a United States–Thailand Multilateral Military Exercise.” Contemporary Security Policy 46, No. 4 (2025): 781-805.

5. Hadrien Saperstein. “The Royal Thai Navy’s Theoretical Application of the Maritime Hybrid Warfare Concept.” Asia Center. Oct. 12, 2020.

6. Milan Vego. “On Littoral Warfare.” Naval War College Review 68, No. 2, Art. 4 (Spring 2015): 30-68.

7. Charlotta Parrat. “Swedish Coastal Defence Over Four Centuries: War as a Changing Institution of International Society.” Scandinavian Journal of Military Studies 5, Iss. 1 (2022): 350–363.

8. Alred Hu and Jamese Oliver. “A Framework for Small Navy Theory: The 1982 U.N. Law of the Sea Convention.” Naval War College Review 41, No. 2 (1988): 37-48.

9. John Hattendorf. “Sea Power and Sea Control in Contemporary Times.” Australian Naval Institute. Sep. 21, 2025.

10. Guntis Skunstiņš and Ieva Berzina. “Technological Maturity for Jeune École: The Case of Ukraine’s Naval Strategy.” Security & Defence Quarterly 52, No. 4 (2025): 1-11.

11. Meghan Kleinsteiber. “Nationalism and Domestic Politics as Drivers of Maritime Conflict.” SAIS Review of International Affairs 33, No. 2 (Summer 2013): pp. 15-19.

12. Anders Nielsen. “Why Small Navies Prefer Warfighting over Counter-Piracy.” In Maritime Security: Counter-Terrorism Lessons from Maritime Piracy and Narcotics Interdiction. eds. Edward Lucas et al. (Washington D.C., USA: NATO Emerging Security Challenges Division, 2020), pp. 97-109.

13. Steven Paget. “Water Under the Bridge?—The Revival of New Zealand-United States Maritime Cooperation.” Naval War College Review 74, No. 3, Art. 5 (Summer 2021): 41-64.

14. Wissawas Koomrasi. “การขยายตัวของกรอบความร่วมมือระหว่างประเทศกับการบริหารจัดการความ มั่นคงทางทะเล: ศึกษาบทบาทของกองทัพเรือกับการจัดตั้งศูนย์อํานวยการรักษาผล ประโยชน์ของชาติทางทะเล [The Expansion of International Cooperation Frameworks in Maritime Security Management: A Study on the Role of the Royal Thai Navy in the Establishment of the Thai Maritime Enforcement Command Center].” Master’s Thesis (Bangkok, TH: Chulalongkorn University, 2023).

15. Kerrin Langer. “‘The Old World Fought, the Modern World Counts:’ Naval Armament Policies, Force Comparisons and International Status, 1889-1922.” In Comparisons in Global Security Politics: Representing and Ordering the World. eds. Thomas Müller, Mathias Albert, Kerrin Langer (Bristol, UK: Bristol University Press, 2024), pp. 195-215.

16. Joselyn Bart. “Emerging Technologies, Prestige Motivations, and the Dynamics of International Competition.” GoveranceAI (2022): 1-56.

Featured Image: Royal Thai Navy (RTN) riverine sailors prepare to execute a harbor defense demonstration aboard their patrol boat riverine to U.S. Navy Riverine Squadron ONE Sailors. (U.S. Navy photo)

Europe

Russia’s Strategic Brown Water Capabilities: A NATO Blind Spot?

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By Helge Adrians

Russia is working to integrate inland waterways more deeply into its deterrence and defense posture. In Western contexts, this area of maritime geography is usually termed the ‘brown water zone.’ A harbinger of that development was the October 2015 strike against positions of Islamist groups in Syria, carried out by small warships in the Caspian Sea using land-attack cruise missiles (LACMs). Russia not only demonstrated a new level of operational reach (of over1 1,500 kilometers), but also revealed a singular capability that remains unmatched to this day – executing deep precision strikes (DPS) from inland waters.2

Indications that the Russian Navy could carry out such an operation from lakes and possibly even rivers had emerged a few years prior. As part of the State Armaments Program for 2007-2015, Russia started outfitting many of its naval vessels with a new, long-awaited universal vertical launch system (VLS). Like the US MK 41 VLS — which has been in use since 1986— the Russian 3S14 VLS is designed to accommodate different types of missiles (rather than using specialized tubes for each missile type, as was previously the case on Soviet and Russian warships)3. The outfitting included river-capable Buyan-class corvettes, of which a modified batch with an eight-cell VLS was built from 2010—the Buyan-M class, sometimes also called Sviyazhsk-class.4 Two years later, the 3M14 LACM—a variant of the Kalibr family of missiles—was introduced on surface warships. One of the first units was the Gepard-class frigate Dagestan, which is part of the Caspian Flotilla. The formation also received the first three Buyan-M class corvettes, commissioned in 2013.

The reinforcement of the Caspian Flotilla was no coincidence. It was closely linked to the naval build-up of the three former Soviet republics Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Turkmenistan from the mid-2000s. The motivations behind this trend were twofold – a growing interest amongst the littoral states in exploiting the Caspian Sea’s economic potential, and the ambiguity surrounding its legal status at that time, particularly concerning maritime borders and access rights. Despite its scale resembling a marginal sea, the Caspian Sea is in practical terms an inland lake.5

Russia’s military port of Kaspiysk on the Caspian Sea. (Google Earth image via TWZ.com)

Although Western observers were aware of these two developments — ‘Kalibrization’ of the Russian Fleet and strengthening the combat power of forces of an inland water body — it seems they failed to derive the correct insights. For example, the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) Treaty, concluded with the United States in 1987, prohibited land-based medium-range missiles, but not sea-based ones. This explains why Russia’s strike in October 2015 caused such significant surprise. As is often the case with such events, many of the subsequent analyses focused on the political implications and the technologies used, while paying less attention to the underlying conceptual framework.

New strategic importance of Russia’s inland waters

Russia’s inland waterways hold strategic significance. This is due to three reasons: first, the country has a large number of rivers spread across its entire territory; second, many of them are long and wide, well-suited for transporting cargo; and third, most of the rivers lie entirely within Russian borders, making them less accessible to Western intelligence. That may have been one of the reasons why the Soviet Union connected the waters west of the Urals in the mid-20th century. At the center is the Volga River, which flows into the Caspian Sea. Through the construction of canals, the Volga was also linked to the Baltic Sea and the White Sea in the North, and to the Black Sea in the South.6 This network is most commonly referred to as the Unified Deep Water System of European Russia (UDWS).

Map of the United Deep Waterway System of Russia. (Graphic via Wikimedia Commons)

From the earliest days of the Cold War, there were discussions within NATO about the military utilization of the UDWS. However, this was more about the possibility of moving single warships, especially submarines, between the northern and the southern flank covertly and thus protected from NATO attacks. To this day, Russia maintains naval shipbuilding at several shipyards along the Volga River. Until the 1990s, even Kilo-class submarines were constructed at a facility there.

Fitting river-capable corvettes with 3M14 LACMs and using them from the Caspian Sea has fundamentally altered strategic assessments of the UDWS, from a useful logistical corridor to an inland naval bastion. However, the capability to carry out DPS from such an unexpected location seems less the outcome of deliberate planning. It was more a consequence of budgetary limitations as a result of the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 and the Russian financial crisis in 1998.7 Faced with the need to maintain its nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs), Russia was forced to make cuts in surface fleet development. Enhancing the operational reach of so-called third-rank combatants like corvettes, traditionally used for operations in the littoral ‘green water,’ or as they say in the Russian Navy – ‘near sea’ zone – emerged as a pragmatic and creative compromise, particularly against the backdrop of the INF Treaty, which was in effect until 2019.8,9 Amongst these are the aforementioned Buyan-M class and its more advanced successor, the Karakurt-class, of which several examples have been commissioned since 2018. 

Searching for safe spaces

Following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, naval platforms became part of the ground campaign through the use of 3M14 LACMs. Initially, such strikes were launched from the Black Sea. By end of December 2022, the Caspian Sea—far away from the frontlines—had also become a launch area for these operations. As Ukraine gradually managed to keep the Black Sea Fleet at distance through a combination of shore-based anti-ship missiles, sea mines, and later—with growing intensity since summer 2023 at the latest—uncrewed surface vessels (USVs), the strategic relevance of the Caspian Sea grew. It not only served as a safe space for continued DPS but also as a hub for repairing and replacing damaged ships.

The expanded use of uncrewed systems in the war against Ukraine plus Western intentions to acquire such platforms have made secure maritime areas increasingly vital for the Russian Navy. However, those are scarce. During the Cold War, Soviet fleets relied on an ‘area denial’-strategy (AD),10 also known as the ‘Bastion’-concept with regard to the defense of the bases of the Northern and the Pacific Fleet where Russia continues to concentrate its SSBNs. The extended defense of this protected space can be described as an ‘anti-access’-approach (A2). Long before the term ‘A2/AD’ was coined by Western analysts in 2003 and became a buzz word from 2014, Moscow had already developed the necessary capabilities as a lesson learnt from World War II (mainly a large long-range aviation and submarine force).11,12 These platforms threatened opposing surface warships, which could be detected and targeted before reaching Soviet positions. Even fleets in marginal seas were enabled to perform A2/AD. A renaissance came with the introduction of various land-based long-range missile systems from around 2012.13 For a long time, Western nations appeared to have little means to counter these A2/AD capabilities. Unmanned systems may offer a solution, as the Ukrainian armed forces have repeatedly demonstrated in the air and in the maritime domain. Due to their small size and design, uncrewed systems have low signatures. Consequently, they are frequently able to penetrate Russian defense layers unrecognized. As a result, the retreat of warships into protected areas under full Russian control—including the UDWS—appears to be the only viable option to safeguard against new asymmetric threats such as USVs and uncrewed underwater vehicles (UUVs).

In light of this, the Russian Navy has adapted for better protection, starting with the creation of a new naval district for the Sea of Azov in July 2023. Situated north of the Black Sea, it is a shallow shelf sea accessible primarily via the Kerch Strait, which Russia has controlled since annexing Crimea in March 2014. In the early stages of the invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Russian forces succeeded in closing the gap between Donbas and Crimea. Since then, Russia has gained full control over the Sea of Azov. One of the main reasons for this approach may have been that there is access to the UDWS via the Don River, which flows into the north-west. In the Sea of Azov, Russian warships are less exposed to Ukrainian attacks than in the Black Sea. This made the maritime enclave appear suitable, amongst other things, as a launch area for corvettes with LACMs.

Efforts to identify secure maritime spaces were also observed in other regions: in the east of the Baltic Sea, the Russian Navy appears to be planning to open up Lake Ladoga—situated north of St. Petersburg—as a fallback area for small warships. Covering nearly 18,000 square kilometers, it is the largest inland body of water in Europe. Since Finland’s defeat in the Second World War, it has been completely surrounded by Russian territory14 and became part of the UDWS. During the Cold War, the lake’s remoteness made it a strategically valuable site for naval testing, playing a role comparable to that of the Caspian Sea. Now, according to Russian media, it is set to become a component of Moscow’s deterrence and defense posture vis-à-vis NATO. For this, two Karakurt-class corvettes of the Baltic Fleet were deployed to Lake Ladoga for several days in September 2023, followed by two Buyan-M class vessels for a similar duration in September 2024.15 While in the first year the focus lay on navigation training and surveying former naval mooring sites repurposed by Russian state-owned defense companies, the second year was reportedly marked by notional launches of 3M14 LACMs as part of the major naval exercise Okean 2024.16

In Russian media, there have been discussions about bolstering forces for brown water operations. This was sparked by a March 2024 announcement from the then Russian Minister of Defense, stating plans to reconstitute a Dnieper Flotilla by the end of the year—intended to take over riverine combat duties from the ground forces. Such formations have existed intermittently since the 18th century, most recently until 1951. The Soviet Union also operated similar groupings on other major rivers. Russia has taken over some of them. The last major command was the Amur Flotilla at the Russian-Chinese border in the Far East: it was transferred to the Border Service in 1995 and formally disbanded in 1998. Apart from that, a sizable shipyard still exists on the Amur River, which also builds Karakurt-class corvettes. However, it is not yet known to what degree these will be deployed from there and whether Russia intends to build up further riverine units.

Amur River basin. (Graphic via Wikimedia Commons)

Decisive, complementary impact without salvos

The extent to which the Russian Navy attributes a strategic role to inland waters is currently connected to the deployment of Buyan-M and Karakurt-class corvettes. Nevertheless, the presence of these vessels beyond the usual duration of a transit is better understood as a sign that changes might be underway, rather than definitive evidence that a change has already taken place. This is because, although the corvettes can strike far-off targets using 3M14 LACMs, they are limited to carrying just eight per ship. However, in conjunction with long-range and decoy UAVs that could saturate air defenses, these assets enable surgical strikes or DPS, respectively, against select targets, particularly critical infrastructure. This reflects the ‘Strategic Operation for the Destruction of Critically Important Targets’-approach outlined in Russian military theory around 2010. The concept is to discourage an adversary from escalating or continuing a conflict by selectively destroying high-value targets, aiming to impact political or societal morale without causing mass casualties. This behavior has been repeatedly demonstrated in Russia’s war against Ukraine.

Such effects could also be achieved through ground- or air-based systems. In this context, warships should be seen as a supplement — particularly when other assets are absent or limited. One example is the Russian part of Karelia, an area east of Lake Ladoga, where Moscow only recently began expanding its ground force presence in 2024, following Finland’s accession to NATO in 2023, leaving the area initially lacking adequate deterrence capabilities.17 Even though Lake Ladoga is seasonally unusable due to ice cover, it can nonetheless be utilized temporarily for defensive or deterrent purposes.

The potential use of LACMs also serves to demonstrate the Russian Navy’s relevance in land operations—an aspect that should not be underestimated. Here, the focus is less on quantity but more on quality; internally, this reinforces the Navy’s standing within the Russian armed forces and political leadership, while externally, it contributes to strategic ambiguity by signaling that all branches of the military are capable of delivering long-range effects.

Closing NATO’s blindspot

Striking land targets from lakes offers several advantages. In addition to the protection against asymmetric threats, it also provides cover from reconnaissance and targeting by enemy missile systems. This is due to the stealthy design of the Buyan-M and Karakurt-class corvettes. When moving or hiding near shorelines, spotting, tracking, and targeting them becomes difficult. Moreover, engaging warships requires different types of munitions than those used against land-based systems like rocket launchers—specifically, warheads capable of penetrating hulls or superstructures to cause significant damage or achieve a kill. Most Western anti-ship missiles have limited range, typically only a few hundred kilometers, and travel at subsonic speeds over longer distances, making them easier to detect and intercept. Additionally, some anti-ship missiles designed for blue-water targets may struggle with targets amongst the cluttered shorelines of lakes and rivers.

While NATO may not prioritize countering Russian warships on lakes in a broader conflict scenario, the risk remains significant. Ukraine’s response offers a blueprint of what can be done. On the one hand, obstructing passage through chokepoints such as straits or locks can effectively trap warships or prevent them from entering. Since the start of the war, Ukraine has sought to block the Kerch Strait; for example, in July 2024, it targeted the nearby ferry terminal at Kavkaz from the air. According to the Ukrainian Navy, Moscow has withdrawn all warships from the Sea of Azov as a result.

On the other hand, the destruction of port infrastructure can disrupt the resupply of naval forces, particularly the reloading of missiles, which can only be done pier-side. Ukraine successfully struck Russian warships in the captured port of Berdiansk on the Sea of Azov in March 2022 as well as in the naval base at Kaspiysk on the Caspian Sea in November 2024. In the latter, both Gepard-class frigates and a Buyan-M class corvette would have been affected.

Ukrainian drones strike the naval base of the Russian Caspian Flotilla in November 2024. (Footage via Twitter/OSINT Technical)

There are also lessons to be learned from Russia’s tactics: in August 2025, it launched an attack on a Ukrainian reconnaissance vessel deep in a tributary of the Danube River. The vessel was reportedly underway in Ukrainian waters, just meters away from the opposite Romanian bank. Remarkably, Russia succeeded in covertly deploying a USV about 40 kilometers into the Danube to conduct the kamikaze strike, while coordinating a UAV to monitor the mission from the air (which could also have fired on the ship).

In principle, it seems possible that the Russian Navy may seek to enhance the strategic role of inland waters. The deployment of Kilo II-class submarines or the loading of 3M14 LACMs in the containerized Club-K version18 onto civilian riverboats are both conceivable, though unlikely due to the logistical complexity involved (because of, for example, river depths19 and currents20 as well as satellite connections). Instead, Russia is more likely to focus on better protecting its Buyan-M and growing Karakurt-class corvettes. Increasing their numbers and distributing them when at sea or over several supporting sites make detection significantly more difficult. This would allow Russia to maintain a strategic reserve for DPS.

Conclusion

NATO should not underestimate Russia’s strategic brown water capabilities. The same applies to Japan and South Korea in the event that Moscow, contrary to current indications, intends to use the Amur as a launch area to defend the Sea of Japan and the Sea of Okhotsk. Therefore, it is essential to prepare doctrinally, enhance surveillance techniques, and develop effective countermeasures. This will require more unconventional thinking—for example, the dropping of sea mines, USVs and UUVs from the air or the arming of partisans with portable anti-ship missiles such as the Swedish RBS-17. New doctrine and capabilities can effectively account for this important yet underappreciated dimension of Russian naval influence.

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

References

1. 3M14 should be able to fly up to 2,500 kilometers, according to [U.S.] State Department, Bureau of Arms Control, Verification and Compliance (2020): 2020 Adherence to and Compliance with Arms Control, Nonproliferation, and Disarmament Agreements and Commitments (Compliance Report), online in: https://2017-2021.state.gov/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/2020-Adherence-to-and-Compliance-with-Arms-Control-Nonproliferation-and-Disarmament-Agreements-and-Commitments-Compliance-Report-1.pdf (PDF file), June 2020 (accessed: 26.12.2024), p. 14 and 16.

2. The distance from the Caspian Sea to the targets in Syria was given by the official Russian side as ‘nearly 1,500 kilometers’, cf. TASS (2015): Caspian Flotilla ships fire 26 cruise missiles on IS targets in Syria — Defense Minister [sic!], online in: https://tass.com/defense/826919, 07.10.2015 (accessed: 18.12.2024).

3. Cf. Bogdanov/Kramnik (2018), p. 6.

4.  Cf. Office of Naval Intelligence (2015): The Russian Navy. Historic Transition, Washington: N.p., p. 20.

5. For decades, the Soviet Union and Iran—the Caspian’s only littoral states until 1991—neglected to define its legal status. Only in 2018 did the five current coastal states reach an initial agreement (i.e., the Convention on the Legal Status of the Caspian Sea, also known as ‘Teheran Convention’), concluding that the Caspian Sea should be treated as neither a sea nor a lake in legal terms.

6. Cf. Jaghdani, Tinoush Jamali/Ketabchy, Mehdi (2023): The Strategic Significance of the Russian Volga River System, in: Russian Analytical Digest, Vol. 304, pp. 22-27, here: p. 22.

7. Cf. Mommsen, Klaus A. R. (2020): The Russian Navy. “Russia’s pride, strength, and asset”, in: Routledge Handbook of Naval Strategy and Security, edited by Krause, Joachim/Bruns, Sebastian (2018), Abingdon/New York: Routledge, pp. 305-314,
here: p. 307.

8. Cf. Kofman, Michael (2023): Evolution of Russian naval strategy, in: The sea in Russian strategy, edited by Monaghan, Andrew/ Connolly, Richard (2023), Manchester: Manchester University Press, pp. 94-123, here: p. 109.

9. For example, the delays in delivering the first two Admiral Grigorovich-class frigates in 2015 prompted a shift in focus toward building Karakurt-class corvettes instead, cf. РИА Новости (2015): Минобороны заявило, что ОПК “немножко сорвал” срок сдачи двух фрегатов, online in: https://ria.ru/20151224/1348076684.html, 24.12.2015 (accessed: 19.08.2025).

10. Cf. Ushirogata, Keitaro (2025 in English; 2019 in Japanese): Global Maritime Military Strategy. 1980-2023, Singapore: Springer, p. 128 ff.

11. This was related to the fact that the US developed a new strategy to deprive Chinese A2/AD-capabilities. Russia and Iran were also credited with such capabilities, making the issue more relevant for European NATO members, especially as there were fears after the occupation and annexation of Crimea that Russia could do the same with the Baltic states and make defence more difficult by activating A2/AD-systems, cf. Simón, Luis (2016): A European Perspective on Anti-Access/Area Denial and the Third Offset Strategy, online in: https://warontherocks.com/2016/05/a-european-perspective-on-anti-accessarea-denial-and-the-third-offset-strategy/, 03.05.2016 (accessed: 27.08.2025).

12. Cf. Gorschkow, Sergej (1976): Seemacht Sowjetunion, edited by Opitz, Eckardt (1978), Hamburg: Hoffmann & Campe, p. 266.

13. In 2012, the S400 air defence system, which entered service in 2007, was stationed in Kaliningrad—the first of the three missile systems primarily linked to A2/AD, cf. Dalsjö, Robert/Berglund, Christofer/Jonsson, Michael (2019): Bursting the Bubble. Russian A2/AD in the Baltic Sea Region. Capabilities, Countermeasures, and Implications (FOI-R–4651–SE), p. 27. The other two systems are Iskander (both the -M and -K version) against land targets, and Bastion-P against sea targets, cf. ibid., p. 10.

14. In late 1939, the Soviet Union demanded territory from Finland, citing the security of Leningrad (now Saint Petersburg) as a primary justification. After Finland refused, the Soviet Union invaded in November. The war ended in March 1940 with the Moscow Peace Treaty and the formerly shared Lake Ladoga became entirely surrounded by Soviet territory. Though contested during the 1941–1944 war, this control held. This outcome was formally recognized in 1947 with the Paris Peace Treaty that formally established Lake Ladoga as a Soviet inland lake under international law.

15. It was the Sovetsk (hull number: 252) and the Odintsovo (252), see the report ‘Baltic Fleet on Ladoga’ in: https://vpk.name/en/ 784930_baltic-fleet-on-ladoga.html 16.10.2023 (accessed: 24.11.2024). This is the English translation of the original Russian article by Timur Gainutdinov, published on Krasnaya Zvezda. The original text was published online but is not accessible from within Germany, cf. http://redstar.ru/na-sedoj-ladoge/. However, the Norwegian military blogger Thore Are Iversen uploaded the article and another English translation to X; see corresponding images at https://x.com/The_Lookout_N/status/ 1714640171176493411, 18.10.2023 (accessed: 27.12.2024).

16. One them could be the former naval base Lakhdenpokhya in the north west of the lake, cf. Ryabov, Kirill (2023): “Karakurt” on Lake Ladoga, online in: https://en.topwar.ru/228351-karakurty-na-ladozhskom-ozere.html, 19.10.2023 (accessed: 24.11.2024). Otherwise, the corvettes were moored at the floating bridge in Priozersk, as satellite images showed, see the Tweet by Thore Are Iversen in: https://x.com/The_Lookout_N/status/1833800057469952169, 11.09.2024 (accessed: 28.12.2024).

17. It was only in April 2024 that Russia announced its intention to station three missile artillery battalions equipped with the Iskander-M system in Karelia, see report ‘В Карелии сформирована отдельная ракетная бригада с ОТК «Искандер-М»0‘, in: https://iz.ru/1684603/2024-04-19/v-karelii-sformirovana-otdelnaia-raketnaia-brigada-s-otk-iskander-m, 19.04.2024 (accessed: 12.01.2025).

18. However, ‘[t]he current status of the Club-K system is unclear, and there is no public evidence that russia [sic!] has commenced serial production of this system’, cf. Syngaivska, Sofiia (2024): New Icebreaker Showcases russia’s [sic!] Advanced Naval Technology, Allegedly Suitable for the Kalibr Missiles, online in: https://en.defence-ua.com/weapon_and_tech/new_icebreaker_ showcases_russias_advanced_naval_technology_allegedly_suitable_for_the_kalibr_missiles-10743.html, 05.06.2024 (accessed: 26.08.2025).

19. Kilo-class submarines were usually deployed on barges across rivers, see the following undated photo in https://imgur.com/a/ lYRJeAO, 12.12.2023 (accessed: 04.01.2025). The link was shared in a discussion on Reddit, see https://www.reddit.com/r/ submarines/comments/18g02tl/how_submarines_built_in_nizhny_novgorod_were/, n.d. (presumably 2024; accessed: 04.01.2025). In 2021, a decommissioned November-class nuclear submarine was even transported via the White Sea-Baltic Sea Canal, see https://paluba.media/news/11667, 21.09.2021 (accessed: 16.01.2025).

20. Even smaller warships are therefore accompanied by tugs, as can be seen in a video showing the Karakurt-class corvette Taifun (805) on its way to Lake Ladoga in 2019, see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZ7uYoh-hXg&t=1s, 20.05.2019 (accessed: 03.01.2025).

Featured Image: Buyan-M-class corvette of the Russian fleet, December 2022. Russia. (Photo via Ministry of Defense of the Russian Federation)

Future Tech

Leading the Digital Fight: How the Navy’s IW Community Must Innovate to Win

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By Shane Halton and Adam Reiffen

“When companies spend millions of dollars on new information technologies but don’t change anything else, there are usually barely detectable productivity improvements. In contrast, when they also invest similar amounts in business process changes and in worker training, productivity can double or more.”-The Second Machine Age: Work, Progress, and Prosperity in a Time of Brilliant Technologies by Andrew McAfee and Erik Brynjolfsson

In the last year, Israel disabled all of Iran and Hezbollah’s senior military leadership at a stroke with a series of audacious precision strikes. Ukraine launched hundreds of small drones against Russia’s strategic air assets from clandestine launch locations deep inside Russian territory. Though the weaponry and tactics employed in these strikes varied wildly from explosive pagers to first person view (FPV) drones, one common thread tied these operations together – innovation in the realm of Information Warfare (IW). From the Levant to the Black Sea, the crucial role played by IW (hereafter used collectively to refer to the intelligence, cryptology, information technology, meteorology/oceanography, cyber, and space communities) has never been more impactful to warfighting than it is today.

The US Navy has adjusted accordingly to this changing character of war. In 2024, the Navy moved Information Warfare (IW) out of the Restricted Line officer category and into a newly minted Information Warfare Line (IWL) category, which serves to both acknowledge IW’s growing impact on operations and to open additional opportunities for leadership across the Fleet. This elevation offers the IW community an excellent chance to step back, assess its tactical strengths and weaknesses, and innovate where needed. 

If called upon today, could the Navy’s IW community deliver the same level of support to operations that the IDF and Ukrainian military receive from their respective military intelligence communities today? Surely it has the resources. The IW community has a workforce in the tens of thousands and close working ties with the national intelligence community. The DoW is making huge capital investments in AI solutions that should positively impact IW workflows. With all these resources available, is innovation even necessary? 

The answer is yes. Despite being well-stocked with talented personnel and appropriated funds, the Navy IW community aboard Carrier Strike Groups (CSGs), Amphibious Readiness Groups (ARGs), and at fleet-level Maritime Operations Centers (MOCs) still operate according to increasingly antiquated and inefficient business practices. Dozens of human analysts spend countless man-hours every day creating and editing PowerPoints. Others spend time using outdated search tools to answer requests for information (RFIs) from senior leadership, watchstanders, and other operators throughout the organization. Compounding these challenges is the structure of the information systems themselves, as critical information remains siloed in disparate databases, thwarting rapid retrieval, analysis, and automated fusion. The net effect of these overlapping issues is that the most data-centric part of the Navy, the Information Warfare Community, is today poorly postured to lead the Navy’s digital transformation and risks failing to effectively adapt to the modern maritime battlespace. 

Luckily for the Navy and the country at-large, there are several innovative initiatives underway across the naval IW enterprise that are showing us the way forward. These efforts, coupled with the thoughtful integration of commercially available AI solutions, offer Navy IW a once in a generation opportunity to increase productivity and output for relatively little cost. The solutions can be grouped into three categories: workforce, organizational reform, and technological solutions.

Workforce: Identifying and Cultivating Digital Talent

Walk into any MOC in the Navy and you may find an intelligent, bright-eyed young individual who identifies themselves as the command’s Chief Data Officer, or maybe Chief Technology Officer, or perhaps lead for Artificial Intelligence or Data Science. Press them a little further and they will happily explain to you that they started off at the MOC doing something entirely different but at some point they shared with their leadership that they had a technical background and could do some coding and voila they received a new job, a new set of responsibilities, and a direct line of communication to senior leadership. 

The positions of Chief Data Officer, Chief Technology Officer, AI Lead, etc. do not exist on any MOC manning documents. Still, those individuals are today found at every MOC in the Fleet. What is happening? The simplest answer is that the operational leadership at the MOCs realized they needed something that Big Navy was unable or unwilling to provide, then created new positions of their own accord by drawing from their own staffs. Every MOC did this independently, seemingly without coordinating across the Service. This is both an admirable example of deckplate innovation at the MOC-level and a fairly serious indictment of the Navy’s manpower challenges when it comes to manning a modern, digital workforce.

But the need for an innovative solution only highlights a Fleet-wide problem. The Navy lacks the ability to identify, employ, and retain digital talent (hereafter “digital” will refer to data science, data engineering, and artificial intelligence, broadly defined). There is one Navy Additional Qualifying Designator (AQD) for Data Science and it is only granted upon graduation from the Naval Postgraduate School’s (NPS) Data Science Program. There are no equivalent AQDs for artificial intelligence or other information- and data- related fields of study. The Navy currently has a much better understanding of which Sailors speak Hausa than which can code in Python, C++, or Java.

The easiest way for the Navy to address this issue is to leverage work already done by the DoW. The DoW’s Digital Workforce initiative, started by the DoW Chief Data and Analytics Office (CDAO) in 2022, generated multiple highly readable reports and useful insights for how to develop “digital talent” across the DoW. CDAO already did the hard work by creating language that could easily convert to Navy AQDs and Sub Specialty Codes (SSPs) related to data science, data engineering, software engineering, AI, etc. Once established, these AQDs and SSPs should be called out explicitly in board convening orders and other promotion criteria, making plain to both promoters and promotees that such skills are as much Navy priorities as Operations Research and Financial Management. The IW community can further lead in workforce development by serving as the community sponsor for innovative graduate certificate programs and “stackable” degrees delivered asymmetrically, including the recently-launched Master of Applied Computing program at NPS.

The AQD/SSP approach has the advantage of increasing the Navy’s oversight of who has which digital skills without unduly disturbing existing career paths, and allows detailers, commanders, and other senior leaders to quickly find and fit talent to key roles in the Fleet. Formally recognizing digital qualifications would have positive impacts on URL communities as well. For instance, an E-2D pilot with coding expertise can still be a pilot, but the Navy will also be aware that he or she has coding expertise, allowing that person to fill relevant billets, liaison roles, or collateral duties. Over time, this AQD/SSP approach will allow the formal creation of billets like the MOC Chief Data Officer and ensure that those billets are manned by qualified personnel. We believe the above recommendations are in alignment with the “Talent” section of the DoW’s January 9, 2026 AI guidance.

Organizational Reform Afloat and at the Fleets

In November 2022, Carrier Strike Group One (CSG-1), in collaboration with Project Overmatch, established the Navy’s first Data Science at Sea (DS@S) team empowered to use all available intelligence, battlespace, and operational data to address emerging warfare requirements. The DS@S team, cobbled together from volunteers around CSG-1 and its subordinate units, automated routine tasks and found novel ways to analyze, fuse, and visualize battlespace data over two deployments to the Western Pacific and the 2024 Rim of the Pacific (RIMPAC) exercise in Hawaii. This grassroots effort went on to inspire similar efforts through PACFLT and resulted in the generation of a classified TACMEMO from the Navy Information Warfare Development Center (NIWDC) detailing the initiative.1 

Over the teams’ nearly three years of operations on CSG-1, it partially or fully automated many IW processes across the Strike Group. The major lesson learned was not that you can do more IW work with fewer people – although this is true – but rather that the DS@S approach creates more bandwidth and time for meaningful human analysis. The DS@S team also developed several novel battlespace awareness and planning tools that are now commonly used by units across the Pacific.2

These teams cannot continue to operate on an ad hoc basis, however, and must be codified, trained, and employed with the same eye towards standardization as at any ESG or MOC across the Fleet. Activating reservists and peeling civilian shipriders away from other tasks has worked well enough to date but is not sustainable over time due to an ever expanding list of operational requirements with ever limited material and personnel resources. To generate consistent decision advantage, build skills over time, and be maximally responsive to the needs of the CSG, ESG, or MOC Commander, data science teams must have a permanent home, dedicated billets, and funding for both training and equipment. In May 2025, the Naval Postgraduate School hosted a summit with a variety of stakeholders to tackle these issues and explore how best to scale the DS@S initiative across the Fleet and “productionalize” the tools that the deployed teams develop.

Until now, the CSG-1 DS@S team has been housed within the Admiral’s staff, but the most natural fit for such a group is within the Information Warfare Commander (IWC) afloat construct. At present, the IWC is the senior member of the IW community embarked with the CSG, but as a member of the Admiral’s staff is without ADCON of any personnel and OPCON of only a select few. The exact nature of the IWC’s roles and responsibilities varies between CSGs based on commander’s discretion. The lack of job standardization and formal authorities (i.e., budget, NJP) for IWCs across the Fleet has hamstrung the role. 

There is an effort underway to address the structural weakness of the current IWC construct. In December 2025, Naval Information Forces (NAVIFOR), the TYCOM for IW across the fleet, established two Information Warfare Squadrons or IWRONs. These IWRONs are designed to “addresses the increasing complexity and sophistication of global threats, which actively seek to exploit vulnerabilities from seabed to space.”3 It is critical that these new IWRONs establish DS@S teams as a Department within the command. Should these pilot IWRON initiatives succeed, they should be replicated both ashore at the MOC (as previously discussed) and afloat at the Navy’s Amphibious Readiness Groups (ARGs). In this construct, the DS@S team would have the personnel, budget, hardware, and authorities to operate continuously as a digital innovation hub for the entire CSG. The IWC could even dispatch the team to work with allies and partners, as the CSG-1 DS@S team did with its French counterparts aboard ships within the CHARLES DE GAULLE Strike Group during the PACIFIC STELLER series of exercises in early 2025.4

Technological Transformation: Leveraging AI and Data

First airing in 1966, Gene Rodenberry’s Star Trek imagined a future where technology had completely redefined the human experience, allowing us to explore the universe with a fleet of massive spacecraft. One thing that the starship Enterprise did not have was an Intelligence Officer. If someone wanted to know a specific scientific fact, the capabilities of Klingon ships or the location of the nearest spaceport, they asked “Computer.” The US Navy is not quite there yet, but we’re much closer now than ever. In July 2025, the DoW announced it was granting contract awards of up to $200 million for artificial intelligence development at Anthropic, Google, OpenAI and xAI.5 Not all of that money will directly impact Navy priorities, nor will it be immediately available to afloat units, but we are getting very close to the day when almost all classified RFIs can be answered by a Large Language Model (LLM) connected to every SIPR and JWICS on a ship. Secretary Hegseth’s December announcement of GenAi.mil is a welcome step towards realizing this vision.6

The deployment of LLMs on classified datasets across the Fleet is unlikely to lead to the wholesale replacement of IW personnel but will likely change the nature of their work. LLMs on warships will need to be optimized to operate in denied or degraded communications environments, meaning they likely need to be installed and run locally onboard ships. This will improve daily performance by removing the need for an internet connection, but it also means that over the course of a deployment the datasets feeding the LLM will become out of date and questions like “when is the last time Country X’s ship operated here” will go from being accurate and useful to inaccurate and misleading after a few weeks. 

This means that the role of deployed IW personnel will be ensuring that the datasets feeding LLMs are accurate and up to date. This includes the tactical data that is collected by the ship during the course of a deployment, whether that is intelligence, METOC, or SIGINT data. As this data management and LLM curation will be a cross-IW enterprise it should become a core function of the nascent IWRON structure discussed above. Some learning and experimentation will be required as the knowledge management practices onboard most ships today do not extend beyond maintaining Sharepoint sites, Collaboration at Sea (CaS) pages, or share drive folders.

Of course ships themselves must also be considered in the execution of this concept, particularly regarding space available for hardware and power output to run LLMs as described. Operating the aforementioned equipment requires specialized–or at least dedicated–compute, which will have to be installed likely in classified spaces already at a premium on smaller classes of warship. Furthermore, both the ship’s Engineering and Information Warfare teams must be engaged to determine what capabilities could be lost or degraded if LLMs are integrated into the ship’s technology stack, including hardware, software, power supply, maintainers, and operators. These conversations and their solutions fall squarely in the wheelhouse of NAVIFOR’s IWRON program, currently being piloted on both the east and west coasts. IW Commodores and their staffs should work directly with both operational and training DESRONs, along with AIRLANT/PAC and CSG staffs, to ensure hardware, software, and manpower training and operational needs are met going into workup and deployment cycles. Integrating these solutions into routine operations as quickly as possible will be key to fully implementing an AI strategy that is set up for success.

Innovation is Necessary to Retain IW’s Warfighting Edge

As McAfee and Brynjolfsson note, investments in both workforce training and improved business practices are more impactful than technological investment alone. The Navy IW community must therefore be proactive in addressing its productivity challenges by taking a round turn on training and innovation. We must organize our forces both afloat and ashore to identify current talent, train new innovators, and ensure they are accounted for throughout their time in uniform. We must prioritize our operational forces both afloat and ashore. This means the IWC must be resourced, staffed, and authorized appropriately to operate afloat, while their MOC counterparts must be similarly taken care of ashore. And we must incentivize our most innovative personnel–the Navy’s greatest strength–to learn, train, fight, and stay Navy.

Taken together, these improvements are critical to the Navy’s future and certainly greater than the sum of their parts. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, after all. The Navy has reorganized itself to adapt to technological change time and again – steel over wood, steam over wind. Now the Navy must absorb, understand, and harness the power of the digital technologies to maintain its warfighting edge. 

Lieutenant Commander Shane Halton is an Intelligence Officer currently serving in Washington DC. He previously served as a Requirements Officer at the Navy’s Digital Warfare Office and helped create the Navy’s first Data Science at Sea team aboard CSG-1.

Lieutenant Commander Adam Reiffen is an Intelligence Officer currently serving as a Federal Executive Fellow at Brown University’s Watson School of International and Public Affairs. He previously served as a Requirements Officer at OPNAV N2N6 and was Officer-in-Charge of the Navy’s Data Science at Sea team aboard CSG-1 from 2024-25.

The opinions expressed are those of the authors and do not reflect the views or policy of the U.S. Department of War, the Department of the Navy, or the U.S. government. No federal endorsement is implied or intended.

References

1. Rear Admiral Carlos Sardiello and Lieutenant Commander Shane Halton, U.S. Navy, and Annie Voigt, CNA, “The Case for Data Science at Sea,” CNA In-Depth, June 2024, https://www.cna.org/our-media/indepth/2024/06/the-case-for-data-science-at-sea.

2. Lieutenant Commanders Adam Reiffen and Shane Halton, U.S. Navy, “Lessons Learned in Year One of Data Science at Sea,” Proceedings, May 2024, https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/2024/may/lessons-learned-year-one-data-science-sea.

3. Joshua Rodriguez, U.S. Navy, “A Paradigm Shift: Navy Establishes First Information Warfare Squadron, ” navy.mil, Dec 2025, https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/display-news/Article/4353901/a-paradigm-shift-navy-establishes-first-information-warfare-squadron/  

4. Ensign Rachael Jones, U.S. Navy, “U.S. and French Host First-Ever Military Hackathon at Sea,” DVIDS, May 2024, https://www.dvidshub.net/news/492989/us-french-host-first-ever-military-hackathon-sea.

5. Sydney J. Freedberg, Jr., “Anthropic, Google and xAI win $200M each from Pentagon AI chief for ‘agentic AI’,” Breaking Defense, July 14, 2025, https://breakingdefense.com/2025/07/anthropic-google-and-xai-win-200m-each-from-pentagon-ai-chief-for-agentic-ai/ 

6. C. Todd Lopez, ”Hegseth Introduces Department to New AI Tool,” war.gov, Dec 2025, https://www.war.gov/News/News-Stories/Article/Article/4355797/hegseth-introduces-department-to-new-ai-tool/.

Featured Image: GULF OF ALASKA (Aug. 23, 2025) Lt. Michael Zittrauer works on a terminal in the combat information center (CIC) aboard the Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. (DDG 121) during exercise Northern Edge 2025 (NE25). (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Christian Kibler)

Fostering the Discussion on Securing the Seas.