Abstract
Janne Nolan's illuminating book does much to explain why, a decade after the collapse of the Berlin Wall, the United States continues to maintain a stockpile of 10,000 nuclear weapons and resists efforts to move beyond Cold War thinking regarding nuclear weapons policy.
Nolan, director of international programs at the Century Foundation, relies heavily on interviews with senior and mid-level military and civilian officials to explore the forces that shape U.S. nuclear policy. She seeks to understand why a fundamental transformation in the geopolitical world order has had so little impact on U.S. nuclear doctrine during the Clinton administration. To do so, she presents two case studies–one of the Nuclear Posture Review initiated by then-Defense Secretary Les Aspin in 1993, the other of the 1996 debate over the African Nuclear Weapons-Free Zone Treaty.
Nolan remarks that it is striking how the momentum for change in U.S. nuclear policy that began with the Bush administration essentially disappeared after Bill Clinton took office. Between the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Soviet Union, Bush and his national security team implemented a series of dramatic changes in nuclear policy–including the removal of nearly all tactical weapons from Europe, the de-alerting of older missiles, the termination of an assortment of weapons programs, and the retirement of several weapon systems.
When Clinton took office, many observers assumed he would continue and perhaps accelerate Bush's initiatives. Aspin's announcement on October 29, 1993, of the Nuclear Posture Review (NPR) appeared to confirm these assumptions. The NPR, said Aspin, would “incorporate reviews of policy, doctrine, force structure, operations, safety and security, and arms control in one look.”
But when the findings of the NPR were released on September 22, 1994, they bore little resemblance to the study championed by Aspin. Apart from some minor changes in the number of delivery systems, the NPR essentially ratified the status quo. In addition, it called for the creation of a “hedge” stockpile of several thousand non-deployed warheads that could be rapidly redeployed if circumstances changed. Given that many military officials wanted to de-emphasize nuclear weapons in favor of conventional weapons, the timidity of the NPR's findings was all the more remarkable. What happened?
According to Nolan, the NPR was doomed from the start. The president pledged his support, but he and his senior aides were never deeply involved in the process. When Clinton appointees were attacked for challenging established doctrine, no one came to their defense. Nolan quotes an unnamed Defense Department official as saying that during the process then-Secretary of State Warren Christopher was “completely disengaged” and national security adviser Anthony Lake was “preoccupied.” Although an early planning document called for an outside panel of experts to critique the process, no panel was formed and no review took place. The Defense Department, which apparently considered outside participation unnecessary, monopolized the process. “We certainly weren't about to invite any weirdos from ACDA [Arms Control and Disarmament Agency],” said one Pentagon participant.
When Aspin resigned in January 1994, responsibility shifted to John Deutch, then deputy defense secretary, and Adm. William Owens, the vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Ashton Carter, an assistant secretary of state, was placed in charge of many of the day-to-day activities. He created six working groups, staffed them with uniformed officers and civilians, and held closed-door hearings during which he urged participants to think creatively and not be bound by Cold War orthodoxies. But deep divisions among the participants over the fundamental purpose and utility of nuclear weapons and the aims of the NPR paralyzed the process.
The other case study, concerning the administration's internal debate over the African Nuclear Weapons-Free Zone Treaty (ANWFZ), also demonstrates the persistence of Cold War thinking. In 1996, 43 African states presented the ANWFZ Treaty for signature to the nuclear powers. Given past U.S. support for nuclear weapons-free zones, it was assumed by most that the United States would sign the treaty.
The U.S. military, however, was opposed. Its opposition centered on Protocol I, which obliged the nuclear weapon states never to use or threaten to use nuclear weapons against any African state that was a party to the treaty. The Pentagon–wary of any agreement that would restrict its ability to use nuclear weapons (even one which merely codified existing U.S. policy)–argued that this element of the treaty would jeopardize everything from the cohesion of NATO to the freedom of movement of U.S. naval vessels.
After months of interagency discussions, the United States signed the treaty. On the day of the signing, Robert Bell, the principal National Security Council staffer for nuclear issues, told reporters at a White House press briefing that under the treaty “each party pledges not to use or threaten to use nuclear weapons against an ANFZ [sic] party. However, Protocol I will not limit options available to the United States in response to an attack by an ANFZ party using weapons of mass destruction.” According to Nolan, Bell's seemingly contradictory remarks “were based on a little-known rule of international customary law known as ‘belligerent reprisals,’ which allows states to retaliate against illegal acts by adversaries in wartime.” Thanks to some legal maneuvering, everyone could declare victory. But the underlying differences over precisely when and how nuclear weapons could be used remained unresolved.
∞
Nolan argues that presidential leadership, as exemplified by George Bush's initiatives, goes a long way toward achieving true and lasting change. One former Bush adviser told Nolan, “President Bush never let an important issue drop into the bureaucracy. Clinton debates objectives with his subordinates. Bush debated tactics but never objectives.” Bush also backed up his staff and, according to Nolan, worked “directly and tirelessly with congressional and foreign leaders to set the stage for positive reception of U.S. initiatives.”
As for the NPR, Nolan writes, “A vacuum in senior-level leadership and White House authority conspired with the reflexive reluctance of career professionals to accept unfamiliar concepts that tested deeply held beliefs and entrenched ways of conducting policy. Absent any clear directives originating from the president about the critical importance of adapting nuclear policies to new circumstances, the outcome was virtually guaranteed.”
Unfortunately, most presidents pay little attention to the mechanics of nuclear policy, perhaps preferring to believe they will never have to exercise their ultimate authority as commander-in-chief. Even more troubling, they and their senior civilian and military advisers may not clearly understand how and why the United States sets nuclear targets. A decade ago, for example, Gen. Lee Butler, then commander of the U.S. Strategic Command in Omaha, was appalled to discover that 69 nuclear weapons were targeted on a single above-ground radar installation in the Soviet Union.
The excessive number of weapons in the U.S. arsenal and the tendency to employ conservative damage expectancy criteria are partly the result of a general lack of awareness regarding nuclear weapons among policy-makers. Nolan describes how thousands of pages of targeting data and computer codes are crammed into viewgraphs and presented to military and civilian authorities during hour-long briefings. According to General Butler, “Generally, no one at the briefings wanted to ask questions because they didn't want to embarrass themselves.” Apparently the scenario presented in “Dr. Strangelove” of a befuddled president was not so far off the mark.
Nolan argues that the way the United States delegates authority for nuclear weapons and nuclear policy makes it extremely difficult to enact fundamental change. “The extreme political sensitivity of nuclear operations and plans to execute forces–practices sanctioned by every president since Eisenhower–require that authority for nuclear war be delegated to a decision-making apparatus designed specifically to discourage political intrusion. It is a system that, by its very nature, will oppose radical systemic change. The relative absence of expertise among political authorities … remains the greatest weakness in crafting policies for contemporary challenges.”
An Elusive Consensus is must reading for anyone concerned about the politics of nuclear policy, including each of the candidates vying to become the forty-third president of the United States.