Join our DC Chapter for its October DC-area informal meet-up/happy hour. We will be meeting at the Hotel Tabard Inn’s Lounge and Bar near the Dupont Circle / Farragut North and West Metro stops to discuss the events of the day (see below) and meet new folk.
Time: Tuesday, 14 October 5:30-9pm Place: 1739 N Street NW
Washington D.C. 20036
For a starter, many of us will be heading to CSIS, 2 blocks away, for the launch of their Maritime Security Dialogue in partnership with the U.S. Naval Institute
All are welcome – RSVPs not required, but appreciated: [email protected]
This article is part of CIMSEC’s “Forgotten Naval Strategists Week.”
It’s time to discuss the Soviet Navy, so dust off your Norman Polmar guides and your early Tom Clancy novels. Or just ask an old salt and Cold War vet if the Red Fleet used to be a big deal. You might even check with Vladimir Putin, who is well aware of this recent yet quickly forgotten chapter in Russian history. Putin would no doubt fondly recall the man responsible for the rise of the Soviet Navy and for its operational and intellectual direction in its heyday: Admiral Sergei Gorshkov.
Gorshkov took command of the Soviet Navy in 1956 at age 45 and oversaw the Soviet Union’s expansion into a global sea power until his retirement in 1985. By comparison, the U.S. Navy had eight Chiefs of Naval Operations (CNOs) during the same period (and potentially more if not for Arleigh Burke’s own unprecedented longevity). Gorshkov’s career demonstrated that he was both a survivor and an extremely patient man. He made it through five Soviet leaders in the post-Stalin period, so he knew how to play his political cards right with the Kremlin. He also survived a defense structure dominated by WWII-era communist party officials fixated on land power and Red Army marshals who were contemptuous and ignorant of naval matters in equal measure. Thus, Gorshkov clearly understood the limits of inter-service rivalry and intellectual rigor within the Soviet system.
Admiral Gorshkov waited patiently for his opportunity to transform the Soviet Navy from a submarine-dominated, sea denial force with a coastal and defensive orientation into a blue water fleet – though still a sub-centric one – that had strategic strike, power projection, and global presence missions. Above all, the Soviet Navy under Gorshkov had ambitions to challenge U.S. sea supremacy, even if his words did not always match his service’s deeds or capabilities. “The flag of the Soviet navy now proudly flies over the oceans of the world,” the navy chief warned Americans from the cover of Time magazine in 1968, and “[s]ooner or later, the U.S. will have to understand that it no longer has mastery of the seas.” But first, Gorshkov had to achieve mastery over his own navy in the post-Khrushchev era.
An inveterate hater of navies in general, Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev was nonetheless enamored of submarines and presided over the construction of the largest peacetime submarine fleet the world has ever seen (well over 400). After submarines on their own proved to be of limited utility, to put it mildly, during the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, Gorshkov capitalized on the humiliation of Khrushchev and of his own navy to press for a more balanced fleet. Gorshkov specifically wanted large surface combatants as well as a greater naval role in Soviet strategy and policy.
It was during the naval expansion period from the mid-1960s through the 1970s under Brezhnev that Gorshkov authored the works that put forth his vision of sea power, Russia’s maritime heritage and destiny, and the naval component of that particular Soviet fixation, operational art. Gorshkov’s writings fueled vigorous debate amongst Soviet naval experts in the West and established a strategic discourse for the superpower naval rivalry that, in hindsight, was truly remarkable.
Contemporary naval leaders and analysts widely acknowledged Gorshkov’s contributions to Cold War naval thought. Gorshkov’s American counterpart in the early 1970s, CNO Admiral Elmo Zumwalt, Jr., encouraged the U.S. Naval Institute to publish Red Star Rising at Sea in 1974. The volume was a collection of 11 articles by Gorshkov published as the series, “Navies in War and Peace,” in Morskoi sbornik (Naval Digest). The article topics spanned from Tsarist times to the Cold War and offered insights on the direction of Soviet naval thinking. Notably, the volume was itself a compilation of earlier Proceedings articles that featured commentary by preeminent American admirals (including four former CNOs) on each of the original Gorshkov articles. As such, Red Star Rising is a time capsule of not only Gorshkov’s ideas but also U.S. perspectives on his philosophy on sea power – as strategist Rear Admiral J. C. Wylie wrote in his commentary, “a rare glimpse into the mind [of the opponent]” – and American reactions to the Soviet naval threat during a crucial period of Cold War naval history.
As the series title implied, Gorshkov presented the case for a strong, balanced fleet with substantial peacetime and wartime missions. The Soviet Navy, in his view, had an especially important role in supporting the Soviet Union’s political objectives and exerting its influence abroad. To not undertake this mission, Gorshkov argued, would cede the ideological battleground to the U.S. Navy as an instrument of “peacetime imperialism.” However, Gorshkov’s real motive, as speculated by experts at the Center for Naval Analyses at the time, was to defend the Soviet Navy’ position internally and to keep its growth trajectory heading upward in the era of SALT and détente.
Gorshkov followed up the articles with a book-length treatment of his views, The Sea Power of the State. The book appeared at the height of the post-Vietnam debates over perceived U.S. weaknesses in the face of a growing Soviet naval threat. It also solidified Gorshkov’s reputation as a dominant figure in Cold War naval thought, which was also notable for a Russian’s entry into the maritime strategy realm that was usually dominated by Anglosphere thinkers.
In the book, Gorshkov offered a non-controversial view that sea power provided “the capacity of a particular country to use the military-economic possibilities of the ocean for its own purposes.” He also took the most expansive view possible for what sea power encompasses. His definition not only included the obvious military, merchant, and fishing components, but also the scientific-technical field. Gorshkov emphasized that sea power is also about a link to the ocean environment in an “inseparable union.” To that end, Gorshkov cast himself as an advocate for oceanography and mapping. A visually stunning and expensive series of ocean atlases bore his name as editor during the same period (it was an “opus” that had “all the grandeur and majesty of a Bolshoi production of Boris Gudonov,” according to one American reviewer).
Gorshkov followed three broad principles when marketing his strategic ideas. First, ideas on sea power must be grounded in history. Gorshkov had slim pickings, admittedly, upon which to build a case for Russia as a great maritime nation – unlike Alfred Thayer Mahan’s embarrassment of riches with British history and the Royal Navy – beyond what Peter the Great briefly attempted several centuries ago. Gorshkov also burdened his readers with the usual clichéd Marxist-Leninist dialectic contortions of historical truth. Not surprisingly, his abuses of the historical record were mainly intended for domestic consumption and to overcome the strong land power dogma within Soviet society. Gorshkov vigorously promoted the idea that great powers needed great navies, and so he used history as an appeal to a national identity and a purpose far away from Russian littorals.
Second, Gorshov’s writings indicate that he understood that naval power aspirations must be firmly grounded in theory. Whether it was his earlier use of the term “naval science” in the 1960s, or his later discussions of “naval art,” Gorshkov focused on putting Soviet naval developments and the USSR’s growth as a maritime nation into a larger intellectual framework. This practice was particularly important when Soviet leaders imposed force structure decisions on the Soviet Navy that did not make for sound strategy or even operational sense. To that end, it is possible that Gorshkov likely needed ghost writing help from some brilliant theoreticians and fellow naval officers like Vice Admiral K. Stalbo to reverse engineer theory to fit a desired reality. Gorshkov, helped by allies in the Soviet leadership and by the course of world events, succeeded in carving out a strategic role for the Soviet Navy. Gorshkov made his case most strongly for the wartime missions of long-range naval operations against the enemy’s shore, such as strategic strike and amphibious landings, an area chronically neglected Soviet army strategists.
Finally, Gorshkov grasped what could be called the “optics” of sea power. He believed that ideas are best illustrated with powerful images. He knew, in the best Mahanian tradition, that navies were symbols of great power status and should be used as an instrument of policy. Gorshkov pushed the Soviet Navy’s peacetime role in promoting the interests of the Soviet state and spreading communist influence through presence missions around the globe. An impressive Soviet warship in a foreign port did not raise the same alarms as Soviet tanks or missiles showing up in distant lands. Moreover, navies with a transoceanic reach were an excellent, albeit tremendously expensive, way to coerce allies and confound adversaries. Gorshkov proved to be a master of both outcomes.
In the final analysis, Admiral Gorshkov as a naval strategist is a paradox: his impact on naval thought is at once considerable and negligible. To be sure, Gorshkov ranks among the great naval leaders of the 20th century. He was a consummate planner and innovator in addition to his political skills. He was also a proponent of salami-slicing to achieve his goals long before it became fashionable in the South China Sea. Analysts and historians asked if Gorshkov was a Russian Mahan or a Red Tirpitz to better fit him into the Western canon of naval strategy. There is also no denying that Gorshkov profoundly influenced not only the Soviet thinking on sea power, but also impacted the course of the U.S. Navy during the Cold War. So, as befits the mark of an important naval strategist, Gorshkov’s ideas mattered and were carefully weighed by allies and adversaries alike.
Yet, Gorshkov’s writings lacked the longevity of Mahan’s or Sir Julian Corbett’s works. His appeals to Russia’s sea power potential and its tenuous claims to naval greatness proved ephemeral – and likely helped to push the Soviet state to collapse. Gorshkov’s ideas, in retrospect, reflected a particular aspect of the Cold War and fulfilled their strategic purpose. As a result, Gorshkov is not a source today for timeless lessons on naval strategy, nor are his works still widely read or even discussed in the maritime nations that once followed him so closely. He has been “forgotten” in that sense. Perhaps in the case of Admiral Gorshkov, it is not his writings but his overall approach to the dilemma of a weaker navy challenging a stronger naval power, while at the same time building a maritime foundation and pursuing regional and global ambitions, that is truly instructive.
Chinese naval watchers in the U.S. naturally looked for a Chinese Mahan in Admiral Liu with the rise of China as a naval power. Another potential issue is a Gorshkov-style naval leader and thinker in Asia who understands the limits of his authoritarian state’s naval power, knows how to finesse its lack of maritime heritage, is politically adroit, and can successfully craft the words and images to at least appear to challenge U.S. naval supremacy. Gorshkov’s specific ideas may be of limited use today, but the legacy of his persistence in pounding the square peg of sea power into a land power-centered round hole lives on. His brand of strategic leadership and intellectual engagement could once again tie the U.S. in analytical and operational knots for years to come.
Jessica Huckabey is a researcher with the Institute for Defense Analyses (IDA) and a retired naval reserve officer. She is writing her doctoral dissertation on American perceptions of the Soviet naval threat during the Cold War. The opinions are her own and not those of IDA or the Department of Defense.
Introduction American strategic thought should center on war with China, a near-peer competitor who aims to expel U.S. military power from the Western Pacific in order to achieve regional hegemony.[1] U.S. leaders need strategic options on how best to engage, deter and ultimately defeat China. The geography of the region demands a maritime focus, and as policy makers have decided to “pivot” to Asia, it is incumbent on them to decide how best to posture American power. Maritime power will be the deciding factor in this conflict. This is not to say that a conflict with China is inevitable or desired. Yet the responsibility of policy makers, military planners and national security experts is to consider and plan accordingly for conflict. Not assuming that war will come will mean the fight will be longer, harder and more costly – and more in doubt.
In the last half of the 20th Century, American maritime power was the centerpiece in a policy of containment against Communism. The collapse of the Soviet Union left the U.S. Navy as the uncontested power on the world’s oceans. [2] Power projection and unrestricted use of the sea lanes enabled the U.S. to fight two sustained land wars for more than ten years. Our pivot toward Asia, demands we build our future maritime power capabilities and platforms around our strategy.
War with China must be an immediate concern. The stage is already set for America to be drawn into conflict now, while she is underprepared. Consider the following scenario:
Late 2014 The conclusion of the 18th Chinese Party Congress in November 2012 did not soothe growing ethnic and economic tensions in China.[3] A stalled world economic recovery reduced demand for Chinese-made goods, creating an unemployment crisis in a country where employment is “guaranteed.” Ethnic tensions spilled over in many western and rural provinces and the state security and People’s Liberation Army (PLA) wavered between accommodating and cracking down. Sensing the Communist Party was losing its “Mandate from Heaven”,[4] it initiated a series of territorial disputes with Asian neighbors in the hopes of spurring nationalism. In late 2014, PRC law enforcement vessels of the China Marine Surveillance (CMS) agency placed water barriers around Scarborough Reef, a disputed shoal claimed by the Philippines and the PRC. An amphibious craft over the horizon with prefabricated construction materials set up a small “Maritime Surveillance Outpost” on pylons manned by marines and “fishery law enforcement” officers. Lacking a meaningful navy, and the stomach to fight, the Philippine government filed protests at the United Nations (UN) and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN). The U.S. ignored quiet feelers put out by the Philippine government about military support for a response, and the PRC noted the lack of a forceful U.S. reaction to the aid their treaty ally. After a brief “high” from their triumph, the economic situation continued to worsen through 2015. The Communist leadership looked closer to home for another diversion. In the East China Sea, just north of Taiwan, the PRC and Japan were locked in a territorial dispute over the Japanese-administered Senkaku Islands. Noting the lack of support Washington gave the Philippines, China waited until the carrier USS George Washington was back in its home port of Yokosuka, Japan undergoing regular maintenance. With the absence of a transiting carrier strike group, hundreds of fishing boats loaded with PLA Navy [PLA(N)] marines come ashore and hastily build a “Maritime Surveillance Outpost” on two of the larger islands. The few Japanese Coast Guard ships could not prevent the landing and soon the islands were occupied with marines and light artillery. Tokyo showed more resolve, and vowed to retake the “home territory.” To the surprise of the American leadership, Japan invoked the mutual defense treaty with the United States, and America’s political leadership faced its worst nightmare: a conflict with China.[5]
Chinese marine forces practice a beach assault during the Mission Action 2013 exercise.
Strategy and Maritime Power We begin by making a series of assumptions. First, the policy of the United States is to remain the preeminent world power. Relative decline need not be indicative of retreat from global leadership; America will continue to oppose usurpation by one or more powers whose interests do not largely coincide with our own. A multi-polar world is more dangerous, not less.
Second, America will seek to maintain a qualitative military edge over peer competitors, enabling it to be capable of protecting national security interests worldwide. Finally, American policy will seek to ensure continued global economic integration and will fund a military large and capable enough to secure the global commons. In order to meet these assumptions, U.S. strategy must navigate a series of challenges in North Africa, the Middle East and Iran, North Korea, Russia and China. All of these are potential flashpoints of military conflict that could escalate, but only one – China – has the ability to fundamentally alter America’s position in the world and take her place as the preeminent power. The ability of America to respond hinges on maritime power.
The nature of American maritime power has evolved over time, as outlined in 1954 by Samuel Huntington. During the Continental Phase, from the founding to 1890, the Navy played a subordinate role, primarily responsible for coastal defense, protecting American commerce and during the Mexican-American and Civil Wars, performing blockading functions and amphibious operations. Beginning in 1890 through the end of World War II, the Oceanic Phase, the United States began to project its power and interests overseas. Maritime policy and thinking was largely influenced by Alfred Thayer Mahan. He argued that the “true mission of the navy was acquiring command of the sea through the destruction of the enemy fleet.” To secure command of the sea, the nation required a stronger battle fleet. This doctrine was largely accepted by the Great Powers, including Japan.[6]
The third phase, the Transoceanic Phase, has seen maritime power orient away from the open ocean and toward the littorals. Even Admiral Nimitz would note that the reduction of enemy targets on land “is the basic objective of warfare,” not the destruction of the enemy fleet. The purpose of maritime power since the end of World War II is to “utilize command of the sea to achieve supremacy on the land.” In a sense, Mahan has been replaced by Sir Julian Corbett.[7]
Maritime power has distinct advantages for policy makers. It is the most politically viable option to posture military forces and respond to challenges without the need for a large land presence. Foreign powers, coalition partners and allies(and the local populations) prefer regular port visits, exercises and training engagements than the permanent stationing of troops. The American public has also cooled to the idea of large battalions stationed overseas. As the public has also grown more casualty-averse, policy makers need more time to prepare the public for the eventual introduction of land forces and the potentially large number of casualties. The nature of a maritime conflict – slow to escalate – provides the political leadership the most critical of elements in any conflict: time. Maritime power should not be confused as “Navy-only,” or even “Navy-Air Force-only.” Land forces play a critical role. As Rear Admiral J.C. Wylie[8] noted, “The ultimate determinant in war is the man on the scene with the gun…This is the soldier.” Land operations are critical in a conflict where the littorals play a central role. The hypothetical scenario above is an example.
Space and cyberspace are newer elements of maritime power. Modern navigation, intelligence gathering and communication, including the Internet, rely on satellite technology and architecture. In the mid to late 1990s, the U.S. military began reconfiguring itself for network-centric operations, linking combat platforms and intelligence surveillance reconnaissance (ISR) assets. At sea, this is critical to Maritime Domain Awareness (MDA). The backbone of a networked military is the satellite and cyberspace architecture and is vital to joint operations.
The Dual Nature of War Before considering conflict with China, we have to consider the nature of war itself. War is dichotomous, being fought principally on land, or with both land and maritime elements.[9] John Arquilla[10] identified that in land wars, skill was the primary factor which determined victory or defeat, while in wars involving land-sea powers, maritime power was the determining factor.
Land powers which initiate wars with land-sea powers tend to lose, often because they inflate their own naval capabilities and lack the requisite experience in naval operations. 16th Century France and 19th-20th Century Germany are two examples. Both were continental powers that began a program of naval expansion with the intent to challenge the British at sea and reach a position of dominance. Both entered conflicts with Britain, only to find that their newly expanded navies did not perform as expected. Their naval bureaucracies retreated from the offensive doctrines in order to protect their new – and very expensive – fleets. Once hostilities commenced, they turned from offensive operations to a guerre de course (commerce raiding), a defensive naval strategy. However, their peacetime advocacy of an offensive naval doctrine made conflict more likely, not less.[11]
About the Author LT Robert “Jake” Bebber USN is an information warfare officer assigned to the staff of the United States Cyber Command. He holds a Ph.D. in Public Policy from the University of Central Florida. The views expressed here do not represent those of the Department of Defense, Department of the Navy or the U.S. Cyber Command. He welcomes your comments at [email protected].
[2] Peter M. Swartz, Center for Naval Analysis, personal communication, November 8, 2012.
[3] For example, see “China’s Achilles Heel” in The Economist, April 21, 2012: http://www.economist.com/node/21553056 ; “Unrest in China – A dangerous year” also in The Economist, January 28, 2012: http://www.economist.com/node/21543477. Also, see “Uighurs and China’s Xinjiang Region” in Council on Foreign Relations, May 29, 2012: http://www.cfr.org/china/uighurs-chinas-xinjiang-region/p16870.
[4] For more on the concept of the “mandate of heaven,” see Perry, E. J. “Challenging the mandate of heaven: popular protests in modern China.” Critical Asian Studies 33, no. 2 (2001): 163-180.
[5] See “Treaty with Japan covers islets in China spat: U.S. official” (Reuters) September 20, 2012, available at http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/09/20/us-china-japan-usa-idUSBRE88J1HJ20120920
[6] Huntington, Samuel P. “National Policy and the Transoceanic Navy. Proceedings 80 no. 5 (1954).
[7] Ibid.
[8] Wylie, J.C. Military Strategy: A General Theory of Power Control. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1967. Pg. 72.
[9] Air power is a major component of both land and land-sea war and hence, is not treated separately.
[10] Arquilla, John. Dubious Battles: Agression, Defeat and the International System. Washington, DC: Crane Russak, 1992. Pg. 131.
As part of the Fourth Global International Studies Conference held in Frankfurt (Germany) 6-9 August 2014, a series of panels was organized on Maritime Securityscapes. One of the events was a roundtable on the future of the emerging, informal subdiscipline “Maritime Security Studies”, a rapidly growing field of analysis and research. The participants were asked to provide their comments along four broad questions. The following is one participant’s input to provide food for thought and a better understanding of maritime security as an academic field of interest and study.
Frankfurt, site of the 4th WISC Global International Studies Conference (source: wikipedia).
What are the most pressing and important questions that Maritime Security Studies (MSS) need to answer?
There are four immediate aspects to this, two of which are more inward-looking and two of which are more outward-directed. First, students of maritime security must better utilize the momentum of conditions that are in favor of the thrust of the field (e.g., the littoralization of security, the maritime [and indeed naval] dimensions of climate change, the hypothesis of the increasing utility of naval forces in future conflict scenarios, the recent publication of a cross-sectoral European Maritime Security Strategy, etc.). Second, maritime security scholars must consider, and learn to mitigate, condisations that are seemingly at odds with the thrust of the field (e.g., current land-centric conflicts, continental geopolitical and strategic thinking in policy-making circles, etc.).
Third, there must be a consistent evaluation of the contemporary relevance of maritime security, especially in light of what will come after “anti-piracy”. The naval operations off the Horn of Africa have locked the theme of security at and from the sea in the minds of many policy-makers and analysts to the degree that maritime security is often seen as exclusively about counter-piracy. Naturally, this self-imposed limitation is neither desirable nor practical. Here, it is especially the strategic-minded researchers that have an obligation to make decision-makers aware of the broad security dimensions of the maritime sphere. While they cannot prevent the career of certain terms, they should at least attempt to manage it properly. Fourth, maritime security students must consider how policy-makers can be convinced that investments in maritime security capabilities and capacities at home and aboard is beneficial. This relates to the challenge of doing critical and pragmatic studies: traditional security studies are increasingly dominated and even overpowered by constructivist approaches.
Piracy areas worldwide.
What issues should be prioritized? What are the top priorities?
As with many fields of study, the top three priorities are funding, funding, and funding. Beyond stating this obvious desire, there appears to be the need to sharpen arguments and understanding of the subject matter “Maritime Security”. For example, in Germany, “maritime security” (“maritime Sicherheit”) has become an all-encompassing term, meaing all kinds of things to all kinds of people. From a naval perspective, “maritime security” usually means just one set of missions among many others (for the U.S. Navy as laid out in the most recent U.S. Navy strategy “A Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower” from 2007; for the German Navy by default, i.e. the operational experience in counter-terrorism and anti-piracy operations since 2002/2008).
Disciples of the emerging field of study should also not forget to look at the field from a commercial and naval perspective. The defense industry, after all, is increasingly looking at littoral security and the emerging maritime safety and security missions, fishery surveillance, counter-piracy, drug interdiction, environmental protection, humanitarian aid, and SAR. Commercial shipping companies are increasingly looking at security in the littoral areas, the ports, and the choke point regions. This offers critical and pragmatic scholars an excellent starting point to link their academic work and insight with influence on actual events and developments.
Scholars should also consider to revive and revitalize the concepts of seapower/sea power in their institutional, function, and geographic dimensions (as British naval strategy dean Geoff Till reminded us once, sea power is something that certain states, or seapowers, have). In addition, it behooves to freshen up on the three uses of the sea for navies (developed by Ken Booth in 1977 and Eric Grove in 1990): diplomatic, constabulary, and military.
Boundaries are a necessary evil, but they help to frame our analytical approaches.
What are the convergences between academic and policy needs in maritime security? Are there shared gaps and how could these be addressed?
The effects of sea power and the policies that make and shape it must ultimately be felt ashore. The same goes for maritime security studies; there are inherent limits to bemoaning “sea blindness” again and again. Policy and maritime security studies both need a better understanding and appreciation of the value and virtue of naval power, and the opportunities of naval forces (presence, flexibility, versatiltiy, modularity, speed, crisis response, etc.). To that end, Maritime Security Studies disciples must learn to embrace navies (even if it means learning some dreaded military lingo and going to acronym hell and back). Navies, in turn, should learn to reach out to the academia and ask hard questions and demand sustainable answers and solutions. Whereas many navies are more about operations than about strategy, and policy-makers often confront a whole host of demands and pressures that keep them from thinking (and acting) strategically, the ultimate goal must be a closer linkage between naval officers, policy-makers, and maritime security students. Those in every field that reach out to the other two players must be identified, and the relationship could even be deepend by way of reserve duty in a navy for civilians and academic fellowships for naval officers).
The secret fantasy of the Maritime Security Studies analyst.
How can the new maritime security studies be strengthened? What institutions will we need to undertake research collaboratively?
From a German perspective, there isn’t a single definitive center of gravity for maritime security (especially strategic) intellecutal thought, although there are a number of institutions that could collaboratively engage in maritime security studies (such as the Future Ocean cluster in Kiel, the Institute for Peace Research and Security Policy in Hamburg, and the University of the German Armed Forces). Maritime Security Studies can only be strengthened in a comprehensive manner. Geramns love the comprehensive approach but too often quickly turn a blind eye toward the indispensable military component of that approach. This requires a mapping of institutions and actors who are into the subject. The Institute for Security Policy in Kiel, with its demonstrated experience in third-party research projects and maritime security and naval strategy expertise (one PhD completed in 2009, one to be completed this year, three more due between 2015 and 2018) would be another natural player. Last, but certainly not least, the Center for International Maritime Security itself could play a role.
Analyze this!
What are plausible next steps for Maritime Security Studies?
There should be a drive for greater institutionalization of the field through dedicated conferences, journals, university chairs, summer schools (one such event was recently organized in Greece), M.A. and PhD courses, etc. There could be a biennial maritime security studies conference – not unlike the McMullen Naval History Symposium in Annapolis, MD – that brings together experts and students from different fields (e.g., naval strategy, recent naval history, etc.). The subject at hand is interesting and exciting enough to explore more dimensions and collaboratively engage in visits on ships, war games and simulations, etc.). In the end, the goal must be to move from maritime case studies such as the dominating anti-piracy operations to the larger trends.
Sebastian Bruns is a Research Fellow at the University of Kiel’s Institute for Political Science/Institute for Security Policy. He holds an M.A. in North American Studies (U of Bonn 2007). The views he presented in Frankfurt and here are his own.
Join our DC Chapter for its October DC-area informal meet-up/happy hour. We will be meeting at the Hotel Tabard Inn’s Lounge and Bar near the Dupont Circle / Farragut North and West Metro stops to discuss the events of the day (see below) and meet new folk.
