What will the spread of nuclear
weapons do to the world? I say ‘spread rather than proliferation’ because so
far nuclear weapons have proliferated only vertically as the major nuclear
powers have added to their arsenals. Horizontally, they have spread slowly
across countries, and the pace is not likely to change much. Short-term
candidates for the nuclear club are not very numerous. and they are not likely
to rush into the nuclear military business. Nuclear weapons will nevertheless
spread, with a new member occasionally joining the club. Counting India and
Israel, membership grew to seven in the first 35 years of the nuclear age. A
doubling of membership in this decade would be surprising. Since rapid changes
in international conditions can be unsettling, the slowness of the spread of
nuclear weapons is fortunate.
Someday the world will be
populated by ten or twelve or eighteen nuclear-weapon states (hereafter
referred to as nuclear states). What the further spread of nuclear weapons will
do to the world is therefore a compelling question.
Most people believe that the
world will become a more dangerous one as nuclear weapons spread. The chances
that nuclear weapons will be fired in anger or accidentally exploded in a way
that prompts a nuclear exchange are finite, though unknown. Those chances increase
as the number of nuclear states increase. More is therefore worse. Most people
also believe that the chances that nuclear weapons will be used vary with the
character of the new nuclear states—their sense of responsibility, inclination
toward devotion to the status quo, political and administrative competence. If the
supply of states of good character is limited as is widely thought, then the
larger the number of nuclear states, the greater the chances of nuclear war
become. If nuclear weapons are acquired by countries whose governments totter
and frequently fall, should we not worry more about the world’s destruction
then we do now? And if nuclear weapons are acquired by two states that are
traditional and bitter rivals, should that not also foster our concern?
Predictions on grounds such
as the above point less to likelihoods and more to dangers that we can all
imagine. They identify some possibilities among many, and identifying more of the
possibilities would not enable one to say how they are likely to unfold in a
world made different by the slow spread of nuclear weapons. We want to know
both the likelihood that new dangers will manifest themselves and what the
possibilities of their mitigation may be. We want to be able to see the future
world, so to speak, rather than merely imagining ways in which it may be a
better or a worse one. How can we
predict more surely? In two ways: by
deducing expectations from the structure of the international political system
and by inferring expectations from past events and patterns. With those two
tasks accomplished in the first part of this paper, I shall ask in the second
part whether increases in the number of nuclear states will introduce differences
that are dangerous and destabilizing.
The world has enjoyed more
years of peace since 1945 than had been known in this century—if peace is
defined as the absence of general war among the major states of the world. The
Second World War followed the first one within twenty-one years. As of 1980 35
years had elapsed since the Allies’ victory over the Axis powers. Conflict marks all human affairs. In the
past third of a century, conflict has generated hostility among states and has
at times issued in violence among the weaker and smaller ones. Even though the
more powerful states of the world have occasionally been direct participants,
war has been confined geographically and limited militarily. Remarkably,
general war has been avoided in a period of rapid and far-reaching
changes—decolonization; the rapid economic growth of some states; the
formation. tightening, and eventual loosening of blocs; the development of
new technologies; and the emergence of new strategies for fighting guerrilla
wars and deterring nuclear ones. The prevalence of peace, together with the
fighting of circumscribed wars, indicates a high ability of the post-war
international system to absorb changes and to contain conflicts and hostility.
Presumably features found in
the post-war system that were not present earlier account for the world's
recent good fortune. The biggest changes in the post-war world are the shift
from multipolarity to bipolarity and the introduction of nuclear weapons.
The Effects of Bipolarity
Bipolarity has produced two
outstandingly good effects. They are seen by contrasting multipolar and bipolar
worlds. First, in a multipolar world there are too many powers to permit any of
them to draw clear and fixed lines between allies and adversaries and too few
to keep the effects of defection low. With three or more powers, flexibility of
alliances keeps relations of friendship and enmity fluid and makes everyone's
estimate of the present and future relation of forces uncertain. S6 long as the
system is one of fairly small numbers, the actions of any of them may threaten
the security of others. There are too many to enable anyone to see for sure
what is happening. and too few to make what is happening a matter of
indifference.
In a bipolar world, the two
great powers depend militarily mainly on themselves. This is almost entirely
true at the strategic nuclear level, largely true at the tactical nuclear
level, and partly true at the conventional level. In 1978, for example, the
Soviet Union's military expenditures were over 90% of the total for the Warsaw
Treaty Organization, and those of the United States were about 60% of the total
for NATO. With a GNP 30% as large as
ours, West Germany's expenditures were 11.5% of the NATO total, and that is the
second largest national contribution. Not only do we carry the main military
burden within the alliance because of our disproportionate resources but also
because we contribute disproportionately from those resources. In fact if not in
form, NATO consists of guarantees given by the United States to her European
allies and to Canada. The United States, with a preponderence of nuclear
weapons and as many men in uniform as the West European states combined, may
be able to protect them; they cannot protect her.
Because of the vast
differences in the capabilities of member states, the roughly equal sharing of
burdens found in earlier alliance systems is no longer possible. The United
States and the Soviet Union balance each other by ‘internal’ instead of
‘external’ means, relying on their own capabilities more than on the
capabilities of allies. Internal balancing is more reliable and precise than
external balancing. States are less likely to misjudge their relative strengths
than they are to misjudge the strength and reliability of opposing coalitions.
Rather than making states properly cautious and forwarding the chances of
peace, uncertainty and miscalculation cause wars. In a bipolar world,
uncertainty lessens and calculations are easier to make. The military might of
both great powers makes quick and easy conquest impossible for either, and this
is clearly seen. To respond rapidly to fine changes in the military balance is
at once less important and more easily done.
Second, in the great-power
politics of a multipolar world, who is a danger to whom. and who can be
expected to deal with threats and problems, are matters of uncertainty. Dangers
are diffused, responsibilities blurred, and definitions of vital interest
easily obscured. Because who is a danger to whom is often unclear, the
incentive to regard all disequilibrating changes with concern and respond to
them with whatever effort may be required is weakened. To respond rapidly to
fine changes is at once more difficult, because of blurred responsibilities,
and more important, because states live on narrow margins. Interdependence of
parties, diffusion of dangers, confusion of responses: These are the
characteristics of great-power politics in a multi polar world.
In the great-power politics
of a bipolar world, who is a danger to whom is never in doubt. Moreover, with
only two powers capable of acting on a world scale, anything that happens
anywhere is potentially of concern to both of them. Changes may affect each of
the two powers differently, and this means all the more that few changes in the
world at large or within each other's national realm are likely to be thought
irrelevant. Self-dependence of parties, clarity of dangers, certainty about who
has to face them: These are characteristics of great-power politics in a
bipolar world. Because responsibility is clearly fixed, and because relative
power is easier to estimate. a bipolar world tends to be more peaceful than a
multipolar world.
Will the spread of nuclear
weapons complicate international life by turning the bipolar world into a
multipolar one? The bipolar system has lasted more than three decades because
no third state has developed capabilities comparable to those of the United
States and the Soviet Union. The United States produces about a quarter of the
world's goods, and the Soviet Union about half as much. Unless Europe unites,
the United States will remain economically well ahead of other states. And
although Japan's GNP is fast approaching the Soviet Union's, Japan is not able
to compete militarily with the super-powers. A state becomes a great power not
by military or economic capability alone but by combining political, social,
economic, military, and geographic assets in more effective ways than other states
can.
In the old days weaker powers
could improve their positions through alliance by adding the strength of
foreign armies to their own. Cannot some of the middle states do together what
they are unable to do alone? For two decisive reasons, the answer is ‘no’.
First, nuclear forces do not add up. The technology of warheads, of delivery
vehicles, of detection and surveillance devices, of command and control
systems, count more than the size of forces. Combining separate national forces
is not much help. Second, to reach top technological levels would require lull
collaboration by, say, several European states. To achieve this has proved
politically impossible. As de Gaulle often said, nuclear weapons make alliances
obsolete. At the strategic level he was right.
States fear dividing their
strategic labours fully—from research and development through production,
planning, and deployment. This is less because one of them might in the future
be at war with another, and more because anyone's decision to use the weapons
against third parties might be fatal to all of them. Decisions to use nuclear
weapons may be decisions to commit suicide. Only a national authority can be
entrusted with the decision, again as de Gaulle always claimed. Only by merging
and losing their political identities can middle states become great powers.
The non-additivity of nuclear forces means that in our bipolar world
efforts of lesser states cannot tilt the strategic balance.
Great powers are strong not
simply because they have nuclear weapons but also because their immense
resources enable them to generate and maintain power of all types. military
and other, at strategic and tactical levels. Entering the great-power club was
easier when great powers were larger in number and smaller in size. With fewer
and bigger ones, barriers to entry have risen. The club will long remain the
world's most exclusive one. We need not fear that the spread of nuclear weapons
will turn the world into a multipolar one.
Nuclear weapons have been the
second force working for peace in the post-war world. They make the cost of war
seem frighteningly high and thus discourage states from starting any wars that might
lead to the use of such weapons. Nuclear weapons have helped maintain peace
between the great powers and have not led their few other possessors into
military adventures.5 Their further spread, however, causes
widespread fear. Much of the writing about the spread of nuclear weapons has
this unusual trait: It tells us that what did no, happen in the past is likely to happen in the future, that
tomorrow's nuclear states are likely to do to one another what today's nuclear
states have not done. A happy nuclear past leads many to expect an unhappy
nuclear future. This is odd, and the oddity leads me to believe that we should
reconsider how weapons affect the situation of their possessors.
The Military Logic of Self-Help Systems
States coexist in a condition
of anarchy. Self-help is the principle of action in an anarchic order, and the
most important way in which states must help themselves is by providing for
their own security. Therefore, in weighing the chances for peace, the first
questions to ask are questions about the ends for which states use force and
about the strategies and weapons they employ. The chances of peace rise if
states can achieve their most important ends without actively using force. War
becomes less likely as the costs of war rise in relation to possible gains.
Strategies bring ends and means together. How nuclear weapons affect the
chances for peace is seen by considering the possible strategies of states.
Force may be used for
offence, for defence, for deterrence, and for coercion. Consider offence first.
Germany and France before World War 1 provide a classic case of two adversaries
each neglecting its defence and both planning to launch major attacks at the
outset of war. France favoured offence over defence, because only by fighting
an offensive war could Alsace-Lorraine be reclaimed. This illustrates one
purpose of the offence: namely, conquest. Germany favoured offence over
defence. believing offence to be the best defence, or even the only defence
possible. Hemmed in by two adversaries. she could avoid fighting a two-front
war only by concentrating her forces in the West and defeating France before
Russia could mobilize and move effectively into battle. This is what the
Schlieffen plan called for. The Plan illustrates another purpose of the
offence: namely, security. Even if security had been Germany's only goal, an
offensive strategy seemed to be the way to obtain it.
The offence may have either
or both of two aims: conquest and security. An offence may be conducted in either
or in some combination of two ways: preventively or pre-emptively. If two
countries are unequal in strength and the weaker is gaining, the stronger may
be tempted to strike before its advantage is lost. Following this logic, a
country with nuclear weapons may be tempted to destroy the nascent force of a
hostile country. This would be preventive war, a war launched against a weak
country before it can become disturbingly strong. The logic of pre-emption is
different. Leaving aside the balance of forces, one country may strike another
country's offensive forces to blunt an attack that it presumes is about to be
made. If each of two countries can eliminate or drastically reduce the other's
offensive forces in one surprise blow, tlien both of them are encouraged to
mount sudden attacks, if only for fear that if one does not, the other will.
Mutual vulnerability of forces leads to mutual fear of surprise attack by
giving each power a strong incentive to strike first.
French and German plans for
war against each other emphasized prevention over preemption - to strike
before enemies can become fully ready to fight, but not to strike at their
forces in order to destroy them before they can be used to strike back. Whether
pre-emptive or preventive, an offensive first strike is a hard one. as military
logic suggests and history confirms Whoever strikes first does so to gain a
decisive advantage. A pre-emptive strike is designed to eliminate or decisively
reduce the opponent's ability to retaliate. A preventive strike is designed to
defeat an adversary before he can develop and deploy his full potential might.
Attacks. I should add, are not planned according to military logic alone.
Political logic may lead a country another country to attack even in the
absence of an expectation of military victory, as Egypt did in October of 1973.
How can one state dissuade
another state from attacking? In either or in some combination of two ways. One
way to counter an intended attack is to build fortifications and to muster forces
that look forbiddingly strong. To build defences so patently strong that no one
will try to destroy or overcome them would make international life perfectly
tranquil. I call this the defensive ideal. The other way to inhibit a country's
intended aggressive moves is to scare that country out of making them by
threatening to visit unacceptable punishment upon it. 'To deter' literally
means to stop someone from doing something by frightening him. In contrast to
dissuasion by defence, dissuasion by deterrence operates by frightening a state
out of attacking, not because of the difficulty of launching an attack and
carrying it home, but because the expected reaction of the attacked will result
in one's own severe punishment. Defence and deterrence are often confused. One
frequently hears statements like this: 'A strong defence in Europe will deter a
Russian attack'. What is meant is that a strong defence will dissuade Russia
from attacking. Deterrence is achieved not through the ability to defend but
through the ability to punish. Purely deterrent forces provide no defence. The
message of a deterrent strategy is this: 'Although we are defenceless, if you
attack we will punish you to an extent that more than cancels your gains'.
Second-strike nuclear forces serve that kind of strategy. Purely defensive
forces provide no deterrence. They offer no means of punishment. The message of
a defensive strategy is this: 'Although we cannot strike back, you will find
our defences so difficult to overcome that you will dash yourself to pieces
against them'. The Maginot Line was to serve that kind of strategy.
States may also use force for
coercion. One state may threaten to harm another state not to deter it from
taking a certain action but to compel one. Napoleon III threatened to bombard
Tripoli if the Turks did not comply with his demands for Roman Catholic control
of the Palestinian Holy Places. This is blackmail, which can now be backed by
conventional and by nuclear threats.
Do nuclear weapons increase
or decrease the chances of war? The answer depends on whether nuclear weapons
permit and encourage states to deploy forces in ways that make the active use
of force more or less likely and in ways that promise to be more or less
destructive. If nuclear weapons make the offence more effective and the
blackmailer's threat more compelling, then nuclear weapons increase the chances
of war—the more so the more widely they spread. Lf defence and deterrence are
made easier and more reliable by the spread of nuclear weapons, we may expect
the opposite result. To maintain their security, states must rely on the means
they can generate and the arrangements they can make for themselves. The
quality of international life therefore varies with the ease or the difficulty
states experience in making themselves secure.
Weapons and strategies change
the situation of states in ways that make them more or less secure, as Robert
Jervis has brilliantly shown. If weapons are not well suited for conquest,
neighbours have more peace of mind. According to the defensive-deterrent
ideal, we should expect war to become less likely when weaponry is such as to
make conquest more difficult, to discourage pre-emptive and preventive war,
and to make coercive threats less credible. Do nuclear weapons have those
effects? Some answers can be found by considering how nuclear deterrence and
how nuclear defence may improve the prospects for peace.
First, wars can be fought in
the face of deterrent threats, but the higher the stakes and the closer a country
moves toward winning them, the more surely that country invites retaliation and
risks its own destruction. States are not likely to run major risks for minor
gains. Wars between nuclear states may escalate as the loser uses larger and
larger warheads. Fearing that.states will want to draw back. Not escalation but
de-escalation becomes likely. War remains possible. but victory in war is too
dangerous to fight for. If states can score only small gains because large ones
risk retaliation, they have little incentive to fight.
Second, states act with less
care if the expected costs of war are low and with more care if they are high.
In 1853 and 1854, Britain and France
expected to win an easy victory if they went to war against Russia. Prestige
abroad and political popularity at home would be gained. if not much else. The
vagueness of their plans was matched by the carelessness of their acts. In
blundering into the Crimean War they acted hastily on scant information,
pandered to their people's frenzy for war, showed more concern for an ally's
whim than for the adversary's situation,
failed to specify the changes in behaviour that threats were supposed to bring.
and inclined towards testing strength first and bargaining second. In sharp contrast, the presence of
nuclear weapons makes States exceedingly cautious. Think of Kennedy and
Khruschev in the Cuban missile crisis. Why fight if you can't win much and
might lose everything?
Third, the question demands a
negative answer all the more insistently when the deter rent deployment of
nuclear weapons contributes more to a country's security than does conquest of
territory. A country with a deter-rent strategy does not need the extent of
territory required by a country relying on a conventional defence in depth. A
deterrent strategy makes it unnecessary for a country to fight for the sake of
increasing its security, and this removes a major cause of war.
Fourth, deterrent effect
depends both on one's capabilities and on the will one has to use them. The
will of the attacked, striving to preserve its own territory, can ordinarily be
presumed stronger than the will of the attacker striving to annex someone
else's territory. Knowing this, the would-be attacker is further inhibited.
Certainty about the relative strength
of adversaries also improves the prospects for peace. From the late nineteenth
century onwards the speed of technological innovation increased the difficulty
of estimating relative strengths and predicting the course of campaigns. Since
World War II, technology has advanced even faster, but short of an antiballistic
missile (ABM) breakthrough, this
does not matter very much. It does not disturb the American-Russian equilibrium
because one side's missiles are not made obsolete by improvements in the other
side's missiles. In 1906 the British Dreadnought,
with the greater range and fire power of its guns, made older battleships
obsolete. This does not happen to missiles. As Bernard Brodie put it: 'Weapons
that do not have to fight their like do not become useless because of the
advent of newer and superior types”. They do have to survive their like, but
that is a much simpler problem to solve (see discussion below).
Many wars might have been
avoided had their outcomes been foreseen. 'To be sure,' Georg Simmel once said,
‘the most effective presupposition for preventing struggle, the exact knowledge
of the comparative strength of the two parties, is very often only to be
obtained by the actual fighting out of the conflict'. Miscalculation causes wars. One side
expects victory at an affordable price, while the other side hopes to avoid
defeat. Here the differences between conventional-multipolar and
nuclear-bipolar worlds are fundamental. In the former, states are too often tempted
to act on advantages that are wishfully discerned and narrowly calculated. In
1914, neither Germany nor France tried very hard to avoid a general war. Both
hoped for victory even though they believed their forces to be quite evenly
matched. In 1941, Japan, in attacking the United States, could hope for victory
only if a series of events that were possible but not highly probable took
place. Japan would grab resources sufficient for continuing the conquest of
China and then dig in to defend a limited perimeter. Meanwhile, the United
States and Britain would have to deal with Germany, which, having defeated the
Soviet Union, would be supreme in Europe. Japan could then hope to fight a
defensive war for a year or two until America, her purpose weakened, became
willing to make a compromise peace in Asia.
Countries more readily run the risks of war when defeat, if it comes, is distant and is expected to bring only limited damage. Given such expectations, leaders do not have to be insane to sound the trumpet and urge their people to be bold and courageous in the pursuit of victory. The outcome of battles and the course of campaigns are hard to foresee because so many things affect them, including the shifting allegiance and determination of alliance members. Predicting the result of conventional wars has proved difficult.
Uncertainty about outcomes
does not work decisively against the fighting of wars in conventional worlds.
Countries armed with conventional weapons go to war knowing that even in
defeat their suffering will be limited. Calculations about nuclear war are
differently made. Nuclear worlds call for and encourage a different kind of
reasoning. If countries armed with nuclear weapons go to war, they do so
knowing that their suffering may be unlimited. Of course, it also may not be.
But that is not the kind of uncertainty that encourages anyone to use force. In
a conventional world, one is uncertain about winning or losing. In a nuclear
world, one is uncertain about surviving or being annihilated. If force is used
and not kept within limits, catastrophe will result. That prediction is easy to
make because it does not require close estimates of opposing forces. The number
of one's cities that can be severely damaged is at least equal to the number of
strategic warheads an adversary can deliver. Variations of number mean little
within wide ranges. The expected effect of the deterrent achieves an easy
clarity because wide margins of error in estimates of probable damage do not
matter. Do we expect to lose one city or two, two cities or ten? When these are
the pertinent questions, we stop thinking about running risks and start
worrying about how to avoid them. In a conventional world, deterrent threats
are ineffective because the damage threatened is distant, limited, and
problematic. Nuclear weapons make military miscalculations difficult and
politically pertinent prediction easy.
Dissuading a would-be
attacker by throwing up a good-looking defence may be as effective as
dissuading him through deterrence. Beginning with President Kennedy and
Secretary of Defense McNamara in the early 1960s, we have asked how we can
avoid. or at least postpone, using nuclear weapons rather than how we c:an
mount the most effective defence. NATO's attempt to keep a defensive war conventional
in its initial stage may guarantee that nuclear weapons, if used, will be used
in a losing cause and in ways that multiply destruction without promising
victory. Early use of very small warheads may stop escalation. Defensive deployment,
if it should fail to dissuade, would bring small nuclear weapons into use
before the physical, political and psychological environment had deteriorated.
The chances of de-escalation are high if the use of nuclear weapons is
carefully planned and their use is limited to the battlefield. We have rightly
put strong emphasis on strategic deterrence, which makes large wars less
likely, and wrongly slighted the question of whether nuclear weapons of low
yield can effectively be used for defence, which would make any war at all less
likely still.
Lesser nuclear states, with
choices tightly constrained by scarcity of resources, may be forced to make
choices that NATO has avoided, to choose nuclear defence or nuclear deterrence
rather than planning to fight a conventional war on a large scale and to use
nuclear weapons only when conventional defences are breaking. Increased reliance on nuclear defence would
decrease the credibility of nuclear deterrence. That would be acceptable if a
nuclear defence were seen to be unassailable. An unassailable defence is fully
dissuasive. Dissuasion is what is wanted whether by defence or by deterrence.
The likelihood of war
decreases as deterrent and defensive capabilities increase. Whatever the number
of nuclear states, a nuclear world is tolerable if those states are able to
send convincing deterrent messages: It is useless to attempt to conquer
because you will be severely punished. A nuclear world becomes even more
tolerable if states are able to send convincing defensive messages: It is
useless to attempt to conquer because you cannot. Nuclear weapons and an
appropriate doctrine for their use may make it possible to approach the
defensive-deterrent ideal, a condition that would cause the chances of war to dwindle.
Concentrating attention on the destructive power of nuclear weapons has
obscured the important benefits they promise to states trying to coexist in a
self-help world.
Why Nations Want Nuclear Weapons
Nations want nuclear weapons
for one or more of seven reasons. First, great powers always counter the
weapons of other great powers, usually by imitating those who have introduced
new weapons. It was not surprising that the Soviet Union developed atomic and
hydrogen bombs, but rather that we thought the Baruch-Lilienthal plan might
persuade her not to.
Second, a state may want
nuclear weapons for fear that its great-power ally will not retaliate if the
other great power attacks. Although Britain when she became a nuclear power
thought of herself as being a great one, her reasons for deciding later to
maintain a nuclear force arose from doubts that the United States could be
counted on to retaliate in response to an attack by the Soviet Union on Europe and from Britain's consequent desire
to place a finger on our nuclear trigger. As soon as the Soviet Union was
capable of making nuclear strikes at American cities, West Europeans began to
worry that America's nuclear umbrella no longer ensured that her allies would
stay dry if it rained. Hugh GaitskeIl, as Leader of the Opposition, could say
what Harold Macmillan, as Prime Minister, dared not: 'I do not believe that
when we speak of our having to have nuclear weapons of our own it is because we
must make a contribution to the deterrent of the West'. As he indicated, no contribution
of consequence was made. Instead, he remarked, the desire for a nuclear force
derives in large part 'from doubts about the readiness of the United States
Government and the American citizens to risk the destruction of their cities on
behalf of Europe'. Similar doubts provided the strongest stimulus
for France to become a nuclear power.
Third, a country without
nuclear allies will want nuclear weapons all the more if some of its
adversaries have them. So China and then India became nuclear powers, and
Pakistan will probably follow.
Fourth, a country may want
nuclear weapons because it lives in fear of its adversaries' present or future
conventional strength. This is reason enough for Israel's nuclear weapons,
which most authorities assume she either has at hand or can quickly assemble.
Fifth, some countries may
find nuclear weapons a cheaper and safer alternative to running economically
ruinous and militarily dangerous conventional arms races. Nuclear weapons may
promise increased security and independence at an affordable price.
Sixth, countries may want
nuclear weapons for offensive purposes. This, however, is an unlikely
motivation for reasons given below.
Finally, by building nuclear
weapons a country may hope to enhance its international standing. This is
thought to be both a reason for and a consequence of developing nuclear
weapons. One may enjoy the prestige that comes with nuclear weapons, and indeed
a yearning for glory was not absent from de Gaulle's soul. But the nuclear
military business is a serious one, and we may expect that deeper motives than
desire for prestige lie behind the decision to enter it.
Mainly for reasons two
through five, new members will occasionally enter the nuclear club. Nuclear weapons
will spread from one country to another in the future for the same reasons they
have spread in the past. What effects may we expect?
Relations among Nuclear Nations
In one important way nuclear
weapons do change the relations of nations. Adversary states that acquire them
are thereby made more cautious in their dealings with each other. For the most
part, however, the relations of nations display continuity through their
transition from non-nuclear to nuclear status.
Relations between the United States
and the new nuclear states were much the same before and after they exploded
atomic devices, as Michael Nacht points out.
Because America's relations with other nations are based on complex
historical, economic, political, and military considerations, they are not
likely to change much when lesser parties decide to build nuclear forces. This
continuity of relations suggests a certain ambivalence. The spread of nuclear
weapons, though dreaded, prompts only mild reactions when it happens. Our 'special
relationship' with Britain led us to help her acquire and maintain nuclear
forces. The distance tinged with distrust that marks our relations with France
led us to oppose France's similar endeavours. China's nuclear forces neither
prevented American-Chinese rapprochement earlier nor prompted it later.
American-Indian relations worsened when America 'tilted' toward Pakistan during
the India-Pakistan War of 1971. India's nuclear explosion in 1974 neither
improved nor worsened relations with the United States in the long term. Unlike
Canada, we did not deny India access to our nuclear supplies. Again in 1980,
President Carter approved shipment of nuclear fuel to India despite her refusal
to accept safeguards on all of her nuclear facilities, as required by the
Nuclear Non-Proliferation Act of 1978, a provision that the President can waive
under certain circumstances. In asking Congress not to oppose his waiving the
requirement, the President said this.' 'We must do all we reasonably can to
promote stability in the area and to bolster our relations with States there,
particularly those that can play a role in checking Soviet expansionism'. Nor
did Pakistan's refusal to promise not to conduct nuclear tests prevent the
United States from proposing to provide military aid after the Soviet Union's
invasion of Afghanistan in December of 1979.
Stopping the spread of
nuclear weapons has had a high priority for American governments, but clearly
not the highest. In practice, other interests have proved to be more pressing.
This is evident in our relations with every country that has developed nuclear
weapons, or appeared to be on the verge of doing so, from Britain onwards. One
may expect that relations of friendship and enmity, that inclinations to help
and to hinder, will carry over from the pre- to the post-nuclear relations of
nations.
What holds for the United
States almost surely holds for the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union has strongly
supported efforts to stop the spread of nuclear weapons. She has good reasons
to do so. Many potential nuclear states are both nearby and hostile from West
Germany through Pakistan to South Korea. Others, like Iraq and India, are
nearby and friendly. In international politics, however, friendliness and
hostility are transient qualities. No doubt the Soviet Union would prefer
conventional to nuclear neighbours whatever their present leanings may be. But
also, after the discredit earned in occupying Afghanistan, the Soviet Union
would like to repair relations with third-world countries. If we had refused to
supply nuclear fuel to India, would the Soviet Union have done so? Secretary of
State Edmund Muskie and others thought so.
For the Soviet Union, as for the United States, other interests may weigh
more heavily than her interest in halting the spread of nuclear weapons.
One may wonder, however,
whether the quality of relations changes within alliances as some of their
members become nuclear powers. Alliances relate nations to one another in
specific and well defined ways. By acquiring nuclear weapons a country is said
to erode, and perhaps to wreck, the alliance to which it belongs. In part this
statement mistakes effects for causes. Alliances are weakened by the doubts of
some countries that another country will risk committing national suicide
through retaliation against a nuclear power that attacks an ally. Such doubts
caused Britain to remain a nuclear power and France to become one, but it did
not destroy NATO. The Alliance holds together because even its nuclear members
continue to depend on the United States. They gain strength from their nuclear
weapons but remain weak in conventional arms and continue to be vulnerable
economically. In an unbalanced world, when the weak feel threatened, they seek
aid and protection from the strong. The nuclear forces of Britain and France
have their effects on the Alliance without ending dependence on the United
States.
Nuclear weapons were
maintained by Britain and acquired by France at least in part as triggers for
America's strategic deterrent. Given a sense of uncertainty combined with
dependence, Europeans understandably strive to fashion their forces so as to
ensure our commitment. They also wish to determine the form the commitment
takes and the manner of its execution. After all, an American choice about how
to respond to threats in Europe is a choice that affects the lives of Europeans
and may bring their deaths. Europeans want a large voice in American policies
that may determine their destiny. By mounting nuclear weapons. Britain and
France hope to decide when we will retaliate against the Soviet Union for acts
committed in Europe. Since retaliation risks our destruction, we resist
surrendering the decision.
Alliances gain strength
through a division of military labour. Within NATO, however, British and French duplication of American strategic
nuclear weaponry on a minor scale adds little to the strength of NATO. The most
striking division of labour is seen in the different ways European countries
seek to influence American policy. Whether or not they are nuclear, lesser
powers feeling.threatened will turn to, or remain associated with, one or
another of the great powers. So long as West European countries fail to
increase and concert their efforts, they remain weak and feel threatened.
Countries that are weak and threatened will continue to rely on the support of
more powerful ones and to hope that the latter will bear a disproportionate
share of the burden. West European states have become accustomed to depending
on the United States. Relations of dependency are hardest to break where
dependent states cannot shift from reliance on one great power to reliance on
another. Under those circumstances, alliances endure even as nuclear weapons
spread among their members.
From NATO'S experience we may
conclude that alliances are not wrecked by the spread of nuclear weapons among
their members. NATO accommodates both nuclear and conventional states in ways
that continue to evolve. Past evidence does not support the fear that alliances,
which have contributed an element of order to an anarchic world, are threatened
by the spread of nuclear weapons. The Soviet Union won't permit the East
European countries to become nuclear powers and the United States has
accommodated two of her allies doing so, though uneasily in the case of France.
The spread of nuclear weapons among members of an alliance changes relations
among them without breaking alliances apart.
Contemplating the nuclear
past gives grounds for hoping that the world will survive if further nuclear
powers join today's six or seven. This tentative conclusion is called into
question by the widespread belief that the infirmities of some nuclear states
and the delicacy of their nuclear forces will work against the preservation of
peace and for the fighting of nuclear wars. The likelihood of avoiding destruction
as more states become members of the nuclear club is often coupled with the
question who those states will be.
What are the likely differences in situation and behaviour of new as compared
to old nuclear powers?
Nuclear Weapons and Domestic Stability
What are the principal
worries? Because of the importance of controlling nuclear weapons—of keeping
them firmly in the hands of reliable officials—rulers of nuclear states may
become more authoritarian and ever more given to secrecy. Moreover, some
potential nuclear states are not politically strong and stable enough to ensure
control of the weapons and of the decision to use them. If neighhouring, hostile,
unstable states are armed with nuclear weapons, each will fear attack by the
other. Feelings of insecurity may lead to arms races that subordinate civil
needs to military necessities. Fears are compounded by the danger of internal
coups in which the control of nuclear weapons may he the main object of the
struggle and the key to political power. Under these fearful circumstances to maintain governmental authority and
civil order may be impossible. The legitimacy of the state and the loyalty of
its citizenry may dissolve because the state is no longer thought to be capable
of maintaining external security and internal order. The first fear is that
states become tyrannical; the second, that they lose control. Both these fears
may be realized, either in different states or, indeed, in the same state at
different times.
What can one say? Four things
primarily. First, Possession of nuclear weapons may slow arms races down, rather
than speed them up, a possibility considered later. Second, for less developed
countries to build nuclear arsenals requires a long lead time. Nuclear power
and nuclear weapons programmes, like population policies, require
administrative and technical teams able to formulate and sustain programmes of
considerable cost that pay off only in the long run. The more unstable a government,
the shorter becomes the attention span of its leaders. They have to deal with
today's problems and hope for the best tomorrow. In countries where political control is most difficult to
maintain, governments are least likely to initiate nuclear-weapons programmes.
In such states, soldiers help to maintain leaders in power or try to overthrow
them. For those purposes nuclear weapons are not useful. Soldiers who have
political clout, or want it, are less interested in nuclear weapons than they
are in more immediately useful instruments of political control. They are not
scientists and technicians. They like to command troops and squadrons. Their
vested interests are in the military's traditional trappings.
Third, although highly
unstable states are unlikely to initiate nuclear projects, such projects, begun
in stable times, may continue through periods of political turmoil and succeed
in producing nuclear weapons. A nuclear state may be unstable or may become so.
But what is hard to comprehend is why, in an internal struggle for power, any
of the contenders should start using nuclear weapons. Who would they aim at?
How would they use them as instruments for maintaining or gaining control? I
see little more reason to fear that one faction or another in some less
developed country will fire atomic weapons in a struggle for political power
than that they will be used in a crisis of succession in the Soviet Union or
China. One or another nuclear state will experience uncertainty of succession,
fierce struggles for power, and instability of regime. Those who fear the worst
have not shown with any plausibility how those expected events may lead to the
use of nuclear weapons.
Fourth, the possibility of
one side in a civil war firing a nuclear warhead at its opponent's stronghold
nevertheless remains. Such an act would produce a national tragedy. not an
international one. This question then arises: Once the weapon is fired, what
happens next? The domestic use of nuclear weapons is, of all the uses
imaginable, least likely to lead to escalation and to threaten the stability of
the central balance. The United States and the Soviet Union, and other
countries as well, would have the strongest reasons to issue warnings and to
assert control.
Nuclear weapons and
regional stability
Nuclear weapons are not
likely to be used at home. Are they likely to be used abroad? As nuclear
weapons spread, what new causes may bring effects different from and worse than
those known earlier in the nuclear age? This section considers five ways in
which the new world is expected to differ from the old and then examines the
prospects for, and the consequences of, new nuclear states using their weapons
for blackmail or for fighting an offensive war.
In what ways may the actions
and interactions of new nuclear states differ from those of old nuclear
powers? First. new nuclear states may come in hostile pairs and share a common
border. Where States are bitter enemies one may fear that they will be unable
to resist using their nuclear weapons against each other. This is a worry about
the future that the past does not disclose. The Soviet Union and the United
States, and the Soviet Union and China, are hostile enough; and the latter pair
share a long border. Nuclear weapons have caused China and the Soviet Union to
deal cautiously with each other. But bitterness among some potential nuclear
states, so it is said, exceeds that experienced by the old ones. Playing down
the bitterness sometimes felt by the United States, the Soviet Union, and China
requires a creative reading of history. Moreover, those who believe that
bitterness causes wars assume a close association that is seldom found between
bitterness among nations and their willingness to run high risks.
Second, some new nuclear
states may have governments and societies that are not well rooted. If a
country is a loose collection of hostile tribes, if its leaders form a thin
veneer atop a people partly nomadic and with an authoritarian history, its
rulers may be freer of constraints than, and have different values from, those
who rule older and more fully developed polities. Idi Amin and Muammar el-Qaddafi
fit into these categories, and they are favourite examples of the kinds of
rulers who supposedly cannot be trusted to manage nuclear weapons responsibly.
Despite wild rhetoric; aimed at foreigners, however, both of these 'irrational'
rulers became cautious and modest when punitive actions against them might
have threatened their ability to rule. Even though Amin lustily slaughtered
members of tribes he disliked, he quickly stopped goading Britain once the
sending of her troops appeared to be a possibility. Qaddafi has shown similar
restraint. He and Anwar Sadat have been openly hostile since 1973. In July of
1977 both sides launched commando attacks and air raids, including two large
air strikes by Egypt on Libya's el Adem airbase. Neither side let the attacks
get out of hand. Qaddafi showed himself to he forbearing and amenable to
mediation by other Arab leaders. Shai Feldman uses these and other examples to
argue that Arab leaders are deterred from taking inordinate risks not because
they engage in intricate rational calculations but simply because they, like
other rulers, are 'sensitive to costs'.
Many Westerners who write
fearfully about a future in which third-world countries have nuclear weapons
seem to view their people in the once familiar imperial manner as 'lesser
breeds without the law'. As is usual with ethnocentric views, speculation
takes the place of evidence. How do we know, someone has asked, that a
nuclear-armed and newly hostile Egypt or a nuclear-armed and still hostile
Syria would not strike to destroy Israel at the risk of Israeli bombs falling
on some of their cities? More than a quarter of Egypt's people live in four
cities: Cairo, Alexandria, Giza, and Aswan. More than a quarter of Syria's live
in three: Damascus. Aleppo, and Homs.
What government would risk sudden losses of such proportion or
indeed of much lesser proportion? Rulers want to have a country that they can
continue to rule. Some Arab country might wish that some other Arab country
would risk its own destruction for the sake of destroying Israel, but there is
no reason to think that any Arab country would do so. One may be impressed
that, despite ample bitterness, Israelis and Arabs have limited their wars and
accepted constraints placed on them by others. Arabs did not marshal their
resources and make an all-out effort to destroy Israel in the years before
Israel could strike back with nuclear warheads. We cannot expect countries to
risk more in the presence of nuclear weapons than they have in their absence.
Third. many fear that states
that are radical at home will recklessly use their nuclear weapons in pursuit
of revolutionary ends abroad. States that are radical at home. however, may
not be radical abroad. Few states have been radical in the conduct of their
foreign policy, and fewer have remained so for long. Think of the Soviet Union
and the People's Republic of China. States coexist in a competitive arena. The
pressures of competition cause them to behave in ways that make the threats
they face manageable, in ways that enable them to get along. States can remain
radical in foreign policy only if they are overwhelmingly strong—as none of the
new nuclear states will be—or if their radical acts fall short of damaging
vital interests of nuclear powers. States that acquire nuclear weapons will not
be regarded with indifference. States that want to be freewheelers have to stay
out of the nuclear business. A nuclear Libya, for example, would have to show
caution, even in rhetoric, lest she suffer retaliation in response to someone
else's anonymous attack on a third state. That state, ignorant of who attacked,
might claim that its intelligence agents had identified Libya as the culprit
and take the opportunity to silence her by striking a conventional or nuclear
blow. Nuclear weapons induce caution, especially in weak states.
Fourth, while some worry
about nuclear states coming in hostile pairs, others worry that the bipolar
pattern will not be reproduced regionally in a world populated by larger
numbers of nuclear states. The simplicity of relations that obtains when one
party has to concentrate its worry on only one other, and the ease of
calculating forces and estimating the dangers they pose, may be lost. The structure
of international politics, however, will remain bipolar so long as no third
state is able to compete militarily with the great powers. Whatever the
structure, the relations of states run in various directions. This applied to
relations of deterrence as soon as Britain gained nuclear capabilities. It has
not weakened deterrence at the centre and need not do so regionally. The
Soviet Union now has to worry lest a move made in Europe cause France and Britain
to retaliate, thus possibly setting off American forces. She also has to worry
about China's forces. Such worries at once complicate calculations and
strengthen deterrence.
Fifth, in some of the new
nuclear states, civil control of the military maybe shaky. Nuclear weapons may
fall into the hands of military officers more inclined than civilians to put
them to offensive use. This again is an old worry. I can see no reason to think
that civil control of the military is secure in the Soviet Union given the
occasional presence of serving officers in the Politburo and some known and
some surmised instances of military intervention in civil affairs at critical
times. And in the People's Republic of
China military and civil branches of government have been not separated but
fused. Although one may prefer civil control, preventing a highly destructive
war does not require it. What is required is that decisions be made that keep
destruction within bounds, whether decisions are made by civilians or
soldiers. Soldiers may he more cautious than civilians. Generals and admirals do not like
uncertainty, and they do not lack patriotism. They do not like to fight
conventional wars under unfamiliar conditions. The offensive use of nuclear
weapons multiplies uncertainties. Nobody knows what a nuclear battlefield would
look like, and nobody knows what happens after the first city is hit. Uncertainiy about the course that a
nuclear war might follow, along with the certainty
that destruction can he immense, strongly inhibits the first use of nuclear
weapons.
Examining the supposedly
unfortunate characteristics of new nuclear states removes some of one’s
worries. One wonders why their civil and military leaders should be less interested
in avoiding self-destruction than leaders of other states have been. Nuclear
weapons have never been used in a world in which two or more states possessed
them. Still, one’s feeling that something awful will happen as new nuclear
powers are added to the present group is not easily quieted. The fear remains
that one state or another will fire its weapons in a coolly calculated
pre-emptive strike, or fire them in a moment of panic, or use them to launch a
preventive war. These possibilities are examined in the next section. Nuclear
weapons may also back a policy of blackmail, or be set off anonymously, or be
used in a combined conventional-nuclear attack.
Consider blackmail first. Two
conditions make for the success of nuclear blackmail. First, when only one
country had nuclear weapons, threats to use them had more effect. Thus,
President Truman’s nuclear threats may have levered the Soviet Union’s troops
out of Azerbaijan in 1946. Second, if a country has invested troops and
suffered losses in a conventional war, its nuclear blackmail may work. In
1953, Eisenhower and Dulles may have convinced Russia and China that they would
widen the Korean War and intensify it by using nuclear weapons if a settlement
were not reached. In Korea, we had gone so far that the threat to go further
was plausible. The blackmailer’s nuclear threat is not a cheap way of working
one’s will. The threat is simply incredible unless a considerable investment
has already been made. Dulles’s speech of 12 January 1954 seemed to threaten
massive retaliation in response to mildly bothersome actions by others. The
successful seige of Dien Bien Pbu in the spring of that year showed the
limitations of such threats. Capabilities foster policies that employ them. But
monstrous capabilities foster monstrous policies, which when contemplated are
seen to be too horrible to carry through. Imagine an Arab state threatening to
strike Tel Aviv if the West Bank is not evacuated by Israelis. No state can
make the threat with credibility because no state can expect to execute the
threat without danger to themselves.
Some have feared that nuclear
weapons may be fired anonymously—by radical Arab states, for example, to attack
an Israeli city so as block a peace settlement. But the state exploding the
warhead could not be sure of remaining unidentified. Even if a country’s
leaders persuade themselves that chances of retaliation are low, who would run
the risk? Once two or more countries have nuclear weapons, the response to
nuclear threats, even against non-nuclear states, becomes unpredictable.
Although nuclear weapons are poor
instruments for blackmail, would they not provide a cheap and decisive
offensive force against a conventionally armed enemy? Some people think that
South Korea wants, and that earlier the Shah’s Iran had wanted, nuclear weapons
for offensive use, Yet one cannot say why South Korea would use nuclear weapons
against fellow Koreans while trying to reunite them nor how she could use
nuclear weapons against the North, knowing that China and Russia might
retaliate. And what goals could a conventionally strong Iran have entertained
that would have tempted her to risk using nuclear weapons? A country that takes
the nuclear offensive has to fear an appropriately punishing strike by someone.
Far from lowering the expected cost of aggression, a nuclear offence even
against a non-nuclear state raises the possible costs of aggression to
incalculable heights because the aggressor cannot be sure of the reaction of
other nuclear powers.
Nuclear weapons do not make
nuclear war a likely prospect, as history has so far shown. The point made when
discussing the domestic use of nuclear weapons, however, bears repeating. No
one can say that nuclear weapons will never be used. Their use, although
unlikely, is always possible. In asking what the spread of nuclear weapons will
do to the world, we are asking about the effects to be expected as a larger number of relatively weak
states get nuclear weapons. If such states use nuclear weapons, the world will
not end. And the use of nuclear weapons by lesser powers would hardly trigger
them elsewhere, with the US and the USSR becoming involved in ways that might
shake the central balance.
A number of problems arc
thought to attend the efforts of minor powers to use nuclear weapons for
deterrence. In this section, I ask how hard these problems are for new nuclear
states to solve.
The Forces Required for Deterrence
In considering the physical
requirements of deterrent forces, we should recall the difference between
prevention and pre-emption. A preventive war is launched by a stronger state
against a weaker one that is thought to be gaining strength. A pre-emptive
strike is launched by one state to blunt an attack that another state is
presumably preparing to launch.
The first danger posed by the
spread of nuclear weapons would seem to be that each new nuclear state may
tempt an old one to strike preventively in order to destroy an embryonic
nuclear capability before it can become militarily effective. Because of America’s
nuclear arsenal, the Soviet Union could hardly have destroyed the budding
forces of Britain and France; but the United States could have struck the
Soviet Union’s early nuclear facilities, and the United States and the Soviet
Union could have struck China’s. Such preventive strikes have been treated as
more than abstract possibilities. When Francis P. Matthews was President
Truman’s Secretary of the Navy, he made a speech that seemed to favour our
waging a preventive war. The United States, he urged, should be willing to pay
‘even the price of instituting a war to compel cooperation for peace’.
The United States and the
Soviet Union considered making preventive strikes against China early in her
nuclear career. Preventive strikes against nuclear installations can also be
made by non-nuclear states and have sometimes been threatened. Thus President
Nasser warned Israel in 1960 that Egypt would attack if she were sure that
Israel was building a bomb. ‘It is inevitable’, he said, ‘that we should attack
the base of aggression, even if we have to mobilize four million to destroy
it’.
The uneven development of the
forces of potential and of new nuclear states creates occasions that seem to
permit preventive strikes and may seem to invite them. Two stages of nuclear
development should be distinguished. First, a country may be in an early stage
of nuclear development and be obviously unable to make nuclear weapons. Second,
a country may be in an advanced stage of nuclear development, and whether or
not it has some nuclear weapons may not be surely known. All of the present
nuclear countries went through both stages, yet until Israel struck Iraq’s
nuclear facility in June of 1981 no one had launched a preventive strike. A
number of reasons combined may account for the reluctance of States to strike
in order to prevent adversaries from developing nuclear forces. A preventive
strike would seem to be most promising during the first stage of nuclear
development. A state could strike without fearing that the country it attacked
would return a nuclear blow. But would one strike so
hard as to destroy the very potential for future nuclear development? If not,
the country struck could simply resume its nuclear career. If the blow struck
is less than devastating, one must be prepared to repeat it or to occupy and
control the country. To do either would be difficult and costly.
In striking Iraq, Israel
showed that a preventive strike can be made, something that was not in doubt.
Israel’s act and its consequences however, make clear that the likelihood of
useful accomplishment is low. Israel’s strike increased the determination of
Arabs to produce nuclear weapons. Arab states that may attempt to do so will
now be all the more secretive and circumspect. Israel’s strike, far from
foreclosing Iraq’s nuclear future, gained her the support of some other Arab
states in pursuing it. And despite Prime Minister Begin’s vow to strike as
often as need be, the risks in doing so would rise with each occasion.
A preventive strike during
the second stage of nuclear development is even less promising than a
preventive strike during the first stage. As more countries acquire nuclear
weapons, and as more countries gain nuclear competence through power projects,
the difficulties and dangers of making preventive strikes increase. To know for
sure that the country attacked has not already produced or otherwise acquired
some deliverable warheads becomes increasingly difficult. If the country
attacked has even a rudimentary nuclear capability, one’s own severe punishment
becomes possible. Fission bombs may work even though they have not been
tested, as was the case with the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Israel has
apparently not tested weapons, yet Egypt cannot know whether Israel has zero,
ten, or twenty warheads. And if the number is zero and Egypt can be sure of
that, she would still not know how many days are required for assembling
components that may be on hand.
Preventive strikes against
states that have, or may have, nuclear weapons are hard to imagine, but what
about pre-emptive ones? The new worry in a world in which nuclear weapons have
spread is that states of limited and roughly similar capabilities will use them
against one another. They do not want to risk nuclear devastation anymore than
we do. Preemptive strikes nevertheless seem likely because we assume that
their forces will be ‘delicate’. With delicate forces, states are tempted to
launch disarming strikes before their own forces can be struck and destroyed.
To be effective a deterrent
force must meet three requirements. First, a part of the force must appear to
be able to survive an attack and launch one of its own. Second, survival of the
force must not require early firing in response to what may be false alarms.
Third, weapons must not be susceptible to accidental and unauthorized use.
Nobody wants vulnerable. hair-trigger, accident-prone forces. Will new nuclear
states find ways to hide their weapons, to deliver them, and to control them?
Will they be able to deploy and manage nuclear weapons in ways that meet the
physical requirements of deterrent forces?
The United States even today
worries about the vulnerability of its vast and varied arsenal. Will not new
nuclear states, slightly and crudely armed, be all the more worried about the
survival of their forces? In recent years, we have exaggerated the difficulty
of deterrence by shifting attention from situations to weaponry and from
weapons systems to their components. Some Americans are concerned about the
vulnerability of our strategic system because its land-based component can be
struck and perhaps largely destroyed by the Soviet Union in the middle 1980s.
If the Soviet Union tried that, we would still have thousands of warheads at
sea and thousands of bombs in the air. The Soviet Union could not be sure that
we would fail to launch on warning or fail to retaliate later. Uncertainty
deters, arid there would be plenty of uncertainty about our response in the
minds of the Soviet Union’s leaders.
In McNamara’s day and earlier
the term ‘counterforce’ had a clear and precise meaning. Country A was
said to have a counterforce capability if by striking first it could reduce
country B’s missiles and
bombers to such small numbers that country A would be reluctantly willing to
accept the full force of B’s retaliation. In this respect, as in others,
strategic discourse now lacks the clarity and precision it once had. Whether in
a conventional or a nuclear world, one cannot usefully compare some components
of a nation’s military forces without taking account of what other components
can do. Both the United States and the Soviet Union have strategic nuclear
weapons that can destroy some of the other sides strategic nuclear weapons.
Neither the United States nor the Soviet Union can reduce the other side’s
strategic forces to the point where it no longer retains an immense capability
for striking at cities and a considerable capability for striking at military
targets as well. That we have ten thousand warheads to the Soviet Union’s six
thousand makes us no worse and no better off than we were when the ratio was
even more favourable. That the throw-weight of the Soviet Union’s missiles
exceeds ours by several times makes us no better and no worse off than it would
be were the ratio to be reversed.
Deterrent forces are seldom
delicate because no state wants delicate forces and nuclear forces can easily
be made sturdy. Nuclear weapons are
fairly small and light. They are easy
to hide and to move. Early in the nuclear age, people worried about atomic
bombs being concealed in packing boxes and placed in holds of ships to be
exploded when a signal was given. Now more than ever people worry about
terrorists stealing nuclear warheads because various states have so many of
them. Everybody seems to believe that
terrorists are capable of hiding bombs. Why should states be unable to do what
terrorist gangs are though to be capable of?
It is sometimes claimed that
the few bombs of a new nuclear state create a greater danger of nuclear war
than additional thousands for the United States and the Soviet Union. Such statements assume that pre-emption of a
small force is easy. It is so only if the would-be attacker knows that the
intended victim’s warheads are few in number, knows their exact number and
locations, and knows that they will not be moved or fired before they are
struck. To know all of these things, and to know that you know them for sure,
is exceedingly difficult. How can military advisers promise the full success
of a disarming first strike when the penalty for slight error may be so heavy?
In 1962, Tactical Air Command promised that an American strike against Soviet
missiles in Cuba would certainly destroy 90% of them but would not guarantee
100%. In the best case a first strike destroys all of a country’s deliverable
weapons. In the worst case, some survive and can still be delivered.
If the survival of nuclear
weapons requires their dispersal and concealment, do not problems of command
and control become harder to solve? Americans think so because we think in
terms of large nuclear arsenals. Small nuclear powers will neither have them
nor need them. Lesser nuclear states might deploy, say, ten real weapons and
ten dummies, while permitting other countries to infer that the numbers are
larger. The adversary need only believe that some warheads may survive his
attack and be visited on him. That belief should not be hard to create without
making command and control unreliable. All nuclear countries must live through
a time when their forces are crudely designed. All countries have so far been
able to control them. Relations between the United States and the Soviet Union.
and later among the United States, the Soviet Union, and China, were at their
bitterest just when their nuclear forces were in early stages of development,
were unbalanced, were crude and presumably hard to control. Why should we
expect new nuclear states to experience greater difficulties than the old ones
were able to cope with? Moreover, although some of the new nuclear states may
be economically and technically backward, they will either have an expert and
highly trained group of scientists and engineers or they will not produce
nuclear weapons. Even if they buy the weapons, they will have to hire
technicians to maintain and control them. We do not have to wonder whether they
will take good care of their weapons. They have every incentive to do so. They
will not want to risk retaliation because one or more of their warheads accidentally
strikes another country.
Hiding nuclear weapons and
keeping them under control are tasks for which the ingenuity of numerous states
is adequate. Nor are means of delivery difficult to devise or procure. Bombs
can be driven in by trucks from neighbouring countries. Ports can be torpedoed
by small boats lying off shore. Moreover, a thriving arms trade in ever more
sophisticated military equipment provides ready access to what may be wanted,
including planes and missiles suited nuclear warhead delivery
Lesser nuclear states can
pursue deterrent strategies effectively. Deterrence requires the ability to
inflict unacceptable damage on another country. ‘Unacceptable damage’ to the
Soviet Union was variously defined by Robert McNamara as requiring the ability
to destroy a fifth to a fourth of’ her population and a half to two-thirds of
her industrial capacity. American estimates of what is required for deterrence
have been absurdly high. To deter, a country need not appear to be able to
destroy a fourth to a half of another country, although in some cases that
might be easily done. Would Libya try to destroy Israel’s nuclear weapons at
the risk of two bombs surviving to fall on Tripoli and Bengazi? And what would
be left of Israel if Tel Aviv and Haifa were destroyed?
The weak can deter one
another. But can the weak deter the strong? Raising the question of China’s
ability to deter the Soviet Union highlights the issue. The population and
industry of most States concentrate in a relatively small number of centres.
This is true of the Soviet Union. A major attack on the top ten cities of the
Soviet Union would get 25% of its industrial capacity and 25% of its urban
population. Geoffrey Kemp in 1974 concluded that China would probably be able
to strike on that scale. And, I emphasize again, China need only appear to be
able to do it. A low probability of carrying a highly destructive attack home
is sufficient for deterrence. A force of an imprecisely specifiable minimum
capability is nevertheless needed.
In a 1979 study, Justin Galen
(pseud.) wonders whether the Chinese have a force physically capable of
deterring the Soviet Union. He estimates that China has 60 to 80 medium-range
and 60 to 80 intermediate-range missiles of doubtful reliability and accuracy
and 80 obsolete bombers. He rightly points out that the missiles may miss their
targets even if tired at cities and that the bombers may not get through the
Soviet Union’s defences. Moreover, the Russians may be able to pre-empt,
having almost certainly ‘located virtually every Chinese missile, aircraft,
weapons storage area and production facility’.
But surely Russian leaders reason the other way around. To locate
virtually all missiles and aircraft is not good enough. Despite inaccuracies,
a few Chinese missiles may hit
Russian cities, and some bombers may get through. Not much is required
to deter. What political-military objective is worth risking Vladivostock,
Novosibirsk. and Tomsk, with no way of being sure that Moscow will not go as
well?
Prevention and pre-emption
are difficult games because the costs are so high if the games are not
perfectly played. Inhibitions against using nuclear forces for such attacks are
strong, although one cannot say they are absolute. Some of the inhibitions are
simply human. Can country A find justification for a preventive or
pre-emptive strike against B if B, in acquiring nuclear weapons, is
imitating A? The leader of a country that launches a preventive or preemptive
strike courts condemnation by his own people, by the world’s people, and by
history. Awesome acts are hard to perform. Some of the inhibitions are
political. As Bernard Brodie tirelessly and wisely said, war has to find a
political objective that is commensurate with its cost. Clausewitz’s central
tenet remains valid in the nuclear age. Ultimately, the inhibitions lie in the
impossibility of knowing for sure that a disarming strike will totally destroy
an opposing force and in the immense destruction even a few warheads can wreak.
The Credibility of Small Deterrent Forces
The credibility of weaker countries’
deterrent threats has two faces. The first is physical. Will such countries be
able to construct and protect a deliverable force? We have found that they can
readily do so. The second is psychological. Will an adversary believe that
retaliation threatened will be carried out?
Deterrent threats backed by
second-strike nuclear forces raise the expected costs of war to such heights
that war becomes unlikely. But deterrent threats may not be credible. In a
world where two or more countries can make them, the prospect of mutual devastation makes it difficult,
or irrational, to execute threats should the occasion for doing so arise. Would
it not be senseless to risk suffering further destruction once a deterrent
force had failed to deter? Believing that it would be, an adversary may attack
counting on the attacked country’s unwillingness to risk initiating a
devastating exchange by its own retaliation. Why retaliate once a threat to do
so has failed? If one’s policy is to rely on forces designed to deter, then an
attack that is nevertheless made shows that one’s reliance was misplaced. The
course of wisdom may be to pose a new question: What is the best policy once
deterrence has failed? One gains nothing by destroying an enemy’s cities.
Instead, in retaliating, one may prompt the enemy to unleash more warheads. A
ruthless aggressor may strike believing that the leaders of the attacked
country are capable of following such a ‘rational’ line of thought. To carry
out the threat that was ‘rationally’ made may be ‘irrational’. This old worry
achieved new prominence as the strategic capabilities of the Soviet Union
approached those of’ the United States in the middle 1970s. The Soviet Union,
some feared, might believe that the United States would be self-deterred.
Much of the literature on
deterrence emphasizes the
problem of achieving the credibility on which deterrence depends and the danger
of relying on a deterrent of uncertain credibility. One earlier solution to the
problem was found in Thomas Sche!ling’s notion of ‘the threat that leaves
something to chance’. No state can know for sure that another state will
refrain from retaliating even when retaliation would be irrational. No state
can bet heavily on another state’s rationality. Bernard Brodie put the thought
more directly, while avoiding the slippery notion of rationality. Rather than
ask what it may be rational or irrational for governments to do, the question
he asked, and repeated in various ways over the years, was this: How do
governments behave in the presence of awesome dangers? His answer was ‘very
carefully’.
To ask why a country should
carry out its deterrent threat once deterrence has failed is to ask the wrong
question. The question suggests that an aggressor may attack believing that the
attacked country may not retaliate. This invokes the conventional logic that
analysts find so hard to forsake. In a conventional world, a country can
sensibly attack if it believes that success is probable. In a nuclear world, a
country cannot sensibly attack unless it believes that success is assured. An
attacker is deterred even if he believes only that the attacked may retaliate. Uncertainty of response,
not certainty, is required for deterrence because, if retaliation occurs, one
risks losing all. In a nuclear world, we should look less at the retaliators
conceivable inhibitions and more at the challenger’s obvious risks.
One may nevertheless wonder,
as Americans recently have, whether retaliatory threats remain credible if the
strategic forces of the attacker are superior to those of the attacked. Will an
unsuccessful defender in a conventional war nave the courage to unleash its
deterrent force, using nuclear weapons first against a country having superior
strategic forces? Once more this asks the wrong question. The previous
paragraph urged the importance of shifting attention from the defender’s
possible inhibitions to the aggressor’s unwillingness to run extreme risks.
This paragraph urges the importance of shifting attention from the defender’s
courage to the different valuations that defenders and attackers place on the
stakes. An attacked country will ordinarily value keeping its own territory
more highly than an attacker will value gaining some portion of’ it. Given
second-strike capabilities, it is not the balance of forces but the courage to
use them that counts. The balance or imbalance of strategic forces affects
neither the calculation of danger nor the question of whose will is the
stronger. Second-strike forces have to be seen in absolute terms. The question
of whose interests are paramount will then determine whose will is perceived
as being the stronger.
Emphasizing the importance of
the ‘balance of resolve’, to use Glenn Snyder’s apt phrase, raises questions
about what a deterrent force covers and what it does not. In answering these
questions, we can learn something from the experience of the last three
decades. The United States and the Soviet Union limited and modulated their
provocative acts, the more carefully so when major values for one side or the
other were at issue. This can be seen both in what they have and in what they
have not done. Whatever support the Soviet Union gave to North Korea’s initial
attack on the South was given after Secretary of State Acheson, the Joint
Chiefs of Staff, General MacArthur, and the Chairman of the Senate Foreign
Relations Committee all explicitly excluded both South Korea and Taiwan from
America’s defence perimeter. The United States, to take another example, could
fight for years on a large scale in South-East ASia because neither success nor
failure mattered much internationally. Victory would not have made the world
one of American hegemony. Defeat would not have made the world one of Russian
hegemony. No vital interest of either great power was at stake, as both
Kissinger and Brezhnev made clear at the time. One can fight without fearing
escalation only where little is at stake. And that is where the deterrent does
not deter.
Actions at the periphery can safely
be bolder than actions at the centre. In contrast, where much is at stake for
one side, the other side moves with care. Trying to win where winning would
bring the central balance into question threatens escalation and becomes too
risky to contemplate. The United States is circumspect when East European
crises impend. Thus Secretary of State Dulles assured the Soviet Union when
Hungarians rebelled in October of 1956 that we would not interfere with efforts
to suppress them. And the Soviet Union’s moves in the centre of Europe are
carefully controlled. Thus her probes in Berlin have been tentative,
reversible, and ineffective. Strikingly, the long border between East and West
Europe—drawn where borders earlier proved unstable—has been free even of skirmishes
in all of the years since the Second World War.
Both of the nuclear great
powers become watchful and wary when events occur that may get out of control.
The strikes by Polish workmen that began in August of 1980 provide the most
recent illustration of this. The Soviet Union, her diplomats privately said,
was ‘determined to find a peaceful solution’. And a senior Carter
Administration specialist on the Soviet Union was quoted as follows: ‘it is a
very explosive situation. Everyone is aware of it, and they are all reluctant
to strike a match’. Even though many
steps would intervene between workers’ strikes and the beginning of any
fighting at all in the Centre of Europe, both the Soviet Union and the United
States showed great caution from the outset. By political and military logic,
we can understand why nuclear weapons induce great caution, and we can confirm
that they do by observing the differences of behaviour between great powers in
nuclear and great powers in conventional worlds.
Contemplating American and
Russian postwar behaviour, and interpreting it in terms of nuclear logic,
suggests that deterrence extends to vital interests beyond the homeland more
easily than many have thought. The United States cares more about Western
Europe than the Soviet Union does. The Soviet Union cares more about Eastern
Europe than the United States does. Communicating the weight of one side’s
concern as compared to the other side’s has been easily enough done when the
matters at hand affect the United States and the Soviet Union directly. For
this reason, Western Europe’s anxiety over the coverage it gets from American
strategic forces, while understandable, is exaggerated. The United States
might well retaliate should the Soviet Union make a major military move against
a NATO country, and that is enough to deter.
The Problem of Extended Deterrence
How far from the homeland
does deterrence extend? One answers that question by defining the conditions
that must obtain if deterrent threats are to be credited. First, the would-be
attacker must be made to see that the deterrer considers the interests at stake
to be vital ones. One cannot assume that countries will instantly agree on the
question of whose interests are vital. Nuclear weapons, however, strongly incline
them to grope for de facto agreement on the answer rather than to fight
over it.
Second, political stability
must prevail in the area that the deterrent is intended to cover. It the threat to a regime is in good part
from internal factions, then an outside power may risk supporting g one of them
even in the face of deterrent threats. The credibility of a deterrent force
requires both that interests be seen to be vital and that it is the attack from
outside that threatens them. Given
these conditions, the would-be attacker provides both the reason to retaliate
and the target for retaliation.
Deterrence gains in credibility the more highly valued the interests
covered seem to be.
The problem of stretching a
deterrent, which has so agitated the western alliance, is not a problem for
lesser nuclear states. Their problem is
to protect not others but themselves.
Many have feared that lesser nuclear states would be the first to break
the nuclear taboo and that they would use their nuclear weapons irresponsibly. I expect just the opposite. Weak states find it easier than strong
states to establish their credibility.
Not only will they not be trying to stretch their deterrent forces to
cover others, but also their vulnerability to conventional attacks lends
credence to their nuclear threats.
Because in a conventional war they can lose so much so fast, it is easy
to believe that they will unleash a deterrent force even at the risk of
receiving a nuclear blow in return.
With deterrent forces, the party that is absolutely threatened
prevails. Use of nuclear weapons by
lesser states will come only if survival is at stake. And this should be called not irresponsible but responsible use.
An opponent who attacks what
is unambiguously mine risks suffering great distress if they have second-strike
forces. This statement has important
implications for both the deterrer and the deterred. Where territorial claims are shadowy and disputed, deterrent
writs do not run. As Steven J. Rosen
has said: ‘It is difficult to imagine Israel committing national suicide to
hold on to Abu Rudeis or Hebron or Mount Hermon. Attacks on Israel’s occupied lands would be imaginable even if
she admitted having nuclear weapons.
Establishing the credibility of a deterrent force requires moderation of
territorial claims on the part of the would-be deterrer. For modest states, weapons whose very
existence works strongly against their use are just what is wanted.
In a nuclear world,
conservative would-be attackers will be prudent, but will all would-be
attackers be conservative? A new Hitler
is not unimaginable. Would the presence
of nuclear weapons have moderated Hitler’s behaviour? Hitler did not start World War II in order to destroy the Third
Reich. Indeed, he was surprised and dismayed
by the British and French declaration of war on Poland’s behalf. After all, the
western democracies had not come to the aid of a geographically defensible and
militarily strong Czechoslovakia. Why then should they have declared war on
behalf of a less defensible Poland and against a Germany made stronger by the
incorporation of Czechoslovakia’s armour?
From the occupation of the Rhineland in 1936 to the invasion of Poland
in 1939, Hitler’s calculations were realistically made. In those years, Hitler would almost surely
have been deterred from acting in ways the immediately threatened massive death
and widespread destruction in Germany. And, if Hitler had not been deterred,
would his generals have obeyed his commands? In a nuclear world, to act in blatantly
offensive ways is madness. Under the
circumstances, how many generals would obey the commands of a madman? One man
alone does not make war.
To believe that nuclear
deterrence would have worked against Germany in 1939 is easy. It is also easy
to believe that in 1945, given the ability to do so, Hitler and some few around
him would have fired nuclear warheads at the United States, Great Britain, and
the Soviet Union as their armies advanced, whatever the consequences for
Germany. Two considerations, however, work against this possibility. When defeat is seen to be inevitable, a
ruler’s authority may vanish. Early in 1945 Hitler apparently ordered the
initiation of gas warfare, but no one responded. The first consideration
applies in a conventional world; the second in a nuclear world. In the latter,
no country will press another to the point of decisive defeat In the
desperation of defeat desperate measures may be taken, but the last thing
anyone wants to do is to make a nuclear nation feel desperate. The unconditional surrender of a nuclear
nation cannot be demanded.
Dreaming up situations in
which someone may have ‘good reason’ to strike first has plagued strategic
thought ever since Herman Kahn began writing scenarios. Considering one such
scenario is worthwhile because it has achieved some popularity among those who
believe that deterrence is difficult. Albert Wohlstetter imagines a
situation in which the Soviet Union might strike first. Her leaders might decide
to do so in a desperate effort to save a sinking regime. The desperation could
be produced, Wohlstetter thinks, by ‘disastrous defeat in peripheral war’, by
‘loss of key satellites’, by the ‘danger of revolt spreading—possibly to
Russia itself’, or by ‘fear of an attack by ourselves’. Under such
circumstances, the risk of not striking
might appear very great to the Soviets’. Imagination places the Soviet Union in
a situation where striking first is bad, but presumably not striking first is
even worse.
One common characteristic of
scenarios is that they are compounded of odd elements. How can the Soviet Union
suffer disastrous defeat in a peripheral war? If the war is peripheral, defeat
may be embarrassing, but hardly disastrous. Another common characteristic of
scenarios is the failure to say how the imagined act will accomplish the end in
view. Some rulers will do anything to save themselves and their regimes. That
is the assumption. But how a regime can hope to save itself by making a nuclear
strike at a superior adversary, or at any adversary having a second-strike
force, is not explained. Why is not striking first even worse than doing so,
and in what way does it entail a smaller risk? We are not told. The most
important common characteristic of scenarios, and often their fatal flaw, is
also present in this one. The scenarist imagines a state in the midst of a
terrible crisis in which the alternatives are so bad that launching a first
strike supposedly makes some sense, but he does not say how this situation
might come about. How could the Soviet Union get into such a mess, and what
would other states be doing in the meantime? Scenarios often feature just one
player, keeping others in the background even though two or more states are
necessarily involved in melting and in preventing wars. To think that the
Soviet Union would strike the United States because of incipient revolt within
her borders is silly. To think that the Soviet Union would strike first
believing that we were about to do so is not. One must then ask how the US
would behave if the USSR were seen to be in a perilous condition. It is
sometimes surprisingly difficult for strategists to think of the actions and
interactions of two or more states at the same time. No country will goad a
nuclear adversary that finds itself in sad straits.
When vital interests are at
stake, all of the parties involved are strongly constrained to be moderate
because one’s immoderate behaviour makes the nuclear threats of others credible.
No one would want to provoke an already desperate country it that country had
strategic nuclear weapons. Equally, a regime in crisis would desperately want
to avoid calling nuclear warheads down upon itself. What scenansts imagine
seldom has much to do with how governments behave. The bizarre qualities of
various scenarios that depict a failure of deterrence strengthens one’s
confidence in it.
Three confusions mark many
discussions of deterrence. First, that nuclear weapons affect the deterrer as
well as the deterred is often overlooked. The many who fear that a country
will foolishly launch missiles in a moment of panic overlook the care other
countries will take in order not to make a nuclear country excessively
nervous. Second, those who are sceptical of deterrence easily slip back from
nuclear logic, by which slight risk of great damage deters, to conventional
logic, by which states may somewhat sensibly risk war on narrowly calculated
advantages. Thus some Amencans fear that the Soviet Union will strike
first—destroying most of our land-based warheads, planes on the ground,
submarines in port, and much else besides. The strike would be made on the
chance that we would not strike back with some of our thousands of remaining
warheads. But states do not risk immense losses unless the odds on succeeding
are overwhelmingly high. No one can say what the odds might be. Third, the
quality of states’ external behaviour is commonly inferred from their internal
characteristics. Thus many emphasize the importance of who the new nuclear states will be and dwell on the question of
whether their rulers will be ‘rational’. They have failed to notice that
radical states usually show caution in their foreign policies and to notice
that nuclear weapons further moderate the behaviour of such states when vital
interests are at issue. Nuclear peace depends not on rulers and those around
them being rational but on their aversion to running catastrophic risks.
Arms Races among New Nuclear States
One may easily believe that American
and Russian military doctrines have set the pattern that new nuclear states
will follow. One may then also believe
that they will suffer the fate of the United States and the Soviet Union, that
they will compete in building larger and larger nuclear arsenals while
continuing to accumulate conventional weapons.
These are doubtful beliefs. One can infer the future from the past only
insofar as future situations may be like present ones for the actors involved. For four main reasons, new nuclear states
are likely to decrease rather than increase their military spending.
First, nuclear weapons alter
the dynamics of arms races. In a competition of two or more parties, it may be
hard to say who is pushing and who is being pushed, who is leading and who is
following. If one party seeks to increase its capabilities, it may seem that
the other(s) must too. The dynamic may be built into the competition and may
unfold despite a mutual wish to resist it.
But need this be the case in a strategic competition between nuclear
countries? It need not be if the conditions of competition make deterrent logic
dominant. Deterrent logic dominates if
the conditions of competition make it nearly impossible for any of the competing
parties to achieve a first-strike capability. Early in the nuclear age, the
implications of deterrent strategy were clearly seen. ‘When dealing with the
absolute weapon’, as William T. R. Fox put it, ‘arguments based on relative
advantage lose their point’. The United
States has sometimes designed her forces according to that logic. Donald A. Quarles argued when he was
Eisenhower’s Secretary of the Air Force that ‘sufficiency of air power’ is
determined by ‘the force required to accomplish the mission assigned’. Avoidance of total war then does not depend
on the ‘relative strength of the two
opposed forces’. Instead, it depends on the ‘absolute power in the hands
of each, and in the substantial invulnerability of this power to
interdiction’. To repeat: If no state
can launch a disarming attack with high confidence, force comparisons are
irrelevant. Strategic arms races are
then pointless. Deterrent strategies offer this great advantage: Within wide
ranges neither side need respond to increases in the other side’s military
capabilities.
Those who foresee nuclear
arms racing among new nuclear states fail to make the distinction between
war-fighting and war-deterring capabilities. War-fighting forces, because they
threaten the forces of others, have to be compared. Superior forces may bring victory
to one country; inferior forces may bring defeat to another. Force requirements
vary with strategies and not just with the characteristics of weapons. With
war-fighting strategies. arms races become difficult, if not impossible, to
avoid. Forces designed for deterring war need not be compared. As Harold Brown
said when he was Secretary of Defense, purely deterrent forces ‘can be
relatively modest, and their size can perhaps be made substantially, though not
completely, insensitive to changes in the posture of an opponent’. With deterrent
strategies, arms races make sense only if a first-strike capability is within
reach. Because thwarting a first strike is easy, deterrent forces are quite
cheap to build and maintain. With deterrent forces, the question is not whether
one country has more than another but whether it has the capability of
inflicting ‘unacceptable damage’ on another, with unacceptable damage sensibly
defined. Once that capability is assured, additional strategic weapons are
useless. More is not better if less is enough.
Deterrent balances are also
inherently stable. if one can say how much is enough, then within wide limits a
country can be insensitive to changes in its adversaries’ forces. This is the
way French leaders have thought. France, as former President Giscard d’Estaing
said, ‘fixes its security at the level required to maintain, regardless of the
way the strategic situation develops in the world, the credibility—in other
words, the effectiveness—of its deterrent force’. With deterrent forces
securely established, no military need presses one side to try to surpass the
other. Human error and folly may lead some parties involved in deterrent
balances to spend more on armaments than is needed, but other parties need not
increase their armaments in response, because such excess spending does not
threaten them. The logic of deterrence eliminates incentives for strategic arms
racing. This should be easier for lesser nuclear states to understand than it
has been for the US and the USSR. Because most of them are economically hard
pressed, they will not want to have more than enough.
Allowing for their particular
circumstances, lesser nuclear states confirm these statements in their
policies. Britain and France are relatively rich countries, and they tend to
overspend. Their strategic forces are nevertheless modest enough when one
considers that their purpose is to deter the Soviet Union rather than states
with capabilities comparable to their own. China of course faces the same task.
These three countries show no inclination to engage in nuclear arms races with
anyone. India appears content to have a nuclear military capability that may or
may not have produced deliverable warheads, and Israel maintains her ambiguous
status. New nuclear states are likely
to conform to these patterns and aim for a modest sufficiency rather than vie
with each for a meaningless superiority.
Second, because strategic
nuclear arms races among lesser powers are unlikely, the interesting question
is not whether they will be run but whether countries having strategic nuclear
weapons can avoid running conventional races. No more than the United States
and the Soviet Union will lesser nuclear states want to rely on the deterrent
threat that risks all. And will not
their vulnerability to conventional attack induce them continue their
conventional efforts?
American policy as it has
developed since the early 1960s again teaches lessons that mislead. For almost
two decades, we have emphasized the importance of having a continuum of forces
that would enable the United States and her allies to fight at any level from
irregular to strategic nuclear warfare.
A policy that decreases reliance on deterrence increases the chances
that wars will be fought. This was well
appreciated in Europe when we began to place less emphasis on deterrence and
more on defence. The worries of many Europeans were well expressed by a senior
British general in the following words: ‘McNamara is practically telling the
Soviets that the worst they need to expect from an attack on West Germany is a
conventional counterattack’. Why risk
one’s own destruction if one is able to fight on the ground and forgo the use
of strategic weapons?
The policy of flexible
response lessened reliance on strategic deterrence and increased the chances of
fighting a war. New nuclear states are
not likely to experience this problem. The
expense of mounting conventional defences, and the difficulties and dangers of
fighting conventional wars, will keep most new nuclear states from trying to
combine large war-fighting forces with deterrent forces. Disjunction within
their forces will enhance the value of deterrence.
Israeli policy seems to
contradict these propositions. From 1971 through 1978, both Israel and Egypt
spent from 20% to 40% of their GNPs on arms. Israel’s spending on conventional
arms remains high, although it has decreased since 1978. The decrease followed
from the making of peace with Egypt and not from increased reliance on nuclear
weapons. The seeming contradiction in fact bears out deterrent logic. So long
as Israel holds the West Bank and the Gaza Strip she has to be prepared to
fight for them. Since they are by no means unambiguously hers, deterrent
threats, whether implicit or explicit, will not cover them. Moreover, while
America’s large subsidies continue, economic constraints will not drive Israel
to the territorial settlement that would shrink her borders sufficiently to
make a deterrent policy credible.
From previous points it
follows that nuclear weapons are likely to decrease arms racing and reduce
military costs for lesser nuclear states in two ways. Conventional arms races
will wither if countries shift emphasis from conventional defence to nuclear
deterrence. For Pakistan. for example, acquiring nuclear weapons is an
alternative to running a ruinous conventional race with India. And deterrent
strategies make nuclear arms races pointless.
Finally, arms races in their
ultimate form—the fighting of offensive wars designed to increase national
security—also become pointless. The success of a deterrent strategy does not
depend on the extent of territory a state holds, a point made earlier. It
merits repeating because of its unusual importance for states whose geographic
limits lead them to obsessive concern for their security in a world of ever
more destructive conventional weapons.
The Frequency and Intensity of War
The presence of nuclear
weapons makes wars less likely. One may nevertheless oppose the spread of
nuclear weapons on the ground that they would make war, however unlikely,
unbearably intense should it occur. Nuclear weapons have not been fired in
anger in a world in which more than one country has them. We have enjoyed three
decades of nuclear peace and may enjoy many more. But we can never have a
guarantee. We may be grateful for decades of nuclear peace and for the
discouragement of conventional war among those who have nuclear weapons. Yet
the fear is widespread, and naturally so, that if they ever go off, we may all
die. People as varied as the scholar Richard Smoke, the arms controller Paul
Warnke, and former Defense Secretary Harold Brown all believe that if any
nuclear weapons go off, many will. Although this seems the least likely of all
the unlikely possibilities, it is not impossible. What makes it so unlikely is
that, even if deterrence should fail, the prospects for rapid de-escalation are
good.
McNamara asked himself what
fractions of the Soviet Union’s population and industry the United States
should be able to destroy in order to deter her. For military, although not for
budgetary, strategy this was the wrong question. States are not deterred
because they expect to suffer a certain amount of damage but because they
cannot know how much damage they will suffer. Near the dawn of the nuclear age
Bernard Brodie put the matter simply: ‘The prediction is more important than
the fact’. The prediction, that is, that attacking the vital interests of a
country having nuclear weapons may bring
the attacker untold losses, As Patrick
Morgan more recently put it: ‘To
attempt to “compute” the cost of a nuclear is to miss the point’.
States are deterred by the
prospect of suffering severe damage and by their physical inability to do much to
limit it. Debate over the Soviet Union’s civil defence efforts calls attention
to this inability. Defensive measures can reduce casualties, but they would
still be immense were either of the great powers launch a determined attack.
Moreover, civil defence cannot save the Soviet Union’s heavily concentrated
industries. Warheads numbered in the hundreds can destroy the United and the
Soviet Union as viable societies no matter what defensive measures they take.
Deterrence works because nuclear weapons enable one state to punish another
state severely without first defeating it. ‘Victory’, in Thomas Schellings
words, ‘is no longer a prerequisite for hurting the enemy’. Countries armed
only with conventional weapons can hope that their military forces will be able
to limit the damage an attacker can do. Among countries armed with strategic
nuclear forces, the hope of avoiding heavy damage depends mainly on the
attacker’s restraint and little on one’s own efforts. Those who compare
expected deaths through strategic exchanges of nuclear warheads with casualties
suffered by the Soviet Union in World War II overlook this fundamental
difference between conventional and nuclear worlds.
Deterrence rests on what
countries can do to each other with
strategic nuclear weapons. From this statement, one easily leaps to the wrong
conclusion: that deterrent strategies, if they have to be carried through, will
produce a catastrophe. That countries are able to annihilate each other means
neither that deterrence depends on their threatening to do so nor that they
will do so if deterrence fails. Because countries heavily armed with strategic
nuclear weapons can carry war to its ultimate intensity, the control of force,
in wartime as in peacetime, becomes the primary objective. If deterrence
fails, leaders will have the strongest incentives to keep force under control
and limit damage rather than launching genocidal attacks. If the Soviet Union
should attack Western Europe, NATO’S objectives would be to halt the attack and
end the war. The United States has long had the ability to place hundreds of
warheads precisely on targets in the Soviet Union. Surely we would strike military
targets before striking industrial targets and industrial targets before
striking cities. The intent to do so is sometimes confused with a war-fighting
strategy, which it is not. It would not significantly reduce the Soviet Union’s
ability to hurt us. It is a deterrent strategy, resting initially on the threat
to punish. The threat, if it fails to deter, is appropriately followed not by
spasms of violence but by punishment administered in ways that convey threats
to make the punishment more severe.
For several reasons, then,
deterrent strategies promise less damage than war-fighting strategies. First,
deterrent strategies induce caution all around and thus reduce the incidence of
war. Second, wars fought in the face of strategic nuclear weapons must be
carefully limited because a country having them may retaliate if its vital
interests are threatened. Third, prospective punishment need only be
proportionate to an adversary’s expected gains in war after those gains are
discounted for the many uncertainties of war. Fourth, should deterrence fail, a
few judiciously delivered warheads are likely to produce sobriety in the
leaders of all of the countries involved and thus bring rapid de-escalation.
A deterrent strategy promises
less damage, should deterrence fail, than does the Schlesinger-Brown
‘countervailing’ strategy, a strategy which contemplates fighting a limited,
strategic nuclear war. War-fighting strategies offer no clear place to stop
short of victory for some and defeat for others. Deterrent strategies do, and
that place is where one country threatens another’s vital interests. Deterrent
strategies lower the probability that wars will be fought. If wars are
nevertheless fought, deterrent strategies lower the probability that they will
become wars of high intensity.
A war between the United
States and the Soviet Union that did get out of control would be catastrophic.
If they set out to destroy each other, they would greatly reduce the world’s
store of developed resources while killing millions outside of their own
borders through fallout. Even while destroying themselves, states with few
weapons would do less damage to others. As ever, the biggest international
dangers come from the strongest states. Fearing the world’s destruction, one
may prefer a world of conventional great powers having a higher probability of
fighting less destructive wars to a world of nuclear great powers having a
lower probability of fighting more destructive wars. But that choice
effectively disappeared with the production of atomic bombs by the United
States during World War II. Since the great powers are unlikely to be drawn
into the nuclear wars of others, the added global dangers posed by the spread
of nuclear weapons are small.
The spread of nuclear weapons
threatens to make wars more intense at the local and not at the global level,
where wars of the highest intensity have been possible for a number of years.
If their national existence should be threatened, weaker countries, unable to
defend at lesser levels of violence, may destroy themselves through resorting
to nuclear weapons. Lesser nuclear states will live in fear of this
possibility. But this is not different from the fear under which the United
States and the Soviet Union have lived for years. Small nuclear states may
experience a keener sense of desperation because of extreme vulnerability to
conventional as well as to nuclear attack, but, again, in desperate situations
what all parties become most desperate to avoid is the use of strategic nuclear
weapons. Still, however improbable the event, lesser states may one day fire
some of their weapons. Are minor nuclear states more or less likely to do so
than major ones? The answer to this question is vitally important because the
existence of some States would be at stake even if the damage done were
regionally confined.
Looking at the situation of
weaker nuclear states and at the statements of stronger nuclear states, one
suspects that weak states are less likely to use nuclear weapons first than are
strong ones. Many have worried about conventional wars between minor nuclear
states becoming nuclear wars as one side loses. It is NATO, however, that plans
to use nuclear weapons in battle if conventional troops cannot hold. Moreover,
after the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan in December of 1979, American
officials considered using nuclear weapons in the Middle East if need be. At
various times, some Americans have thought of reasons for making limited
counterforce strikes—firing a few missiles at the Soviet Union to show our
determination—an idea revived by James R. Schlesinger when he was Secretary of
Defense. Among others, Generals Earle G. Wheeler and George Brown, former
chairmen of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, have talked of our emerging from a
nuclear war with a ‘relative advantage’ over the Soviet Union by targeting
their ‘war recovery capabilities’.
Presidential Directive 59, signed by President Carter in July of 1980,
contemplates fighting a limited nuclear war, perhaps a prolonged one, if
deterrence should fail. And some of the Soviet Union’s military leaders have
publicly discussed using nuclear weapons to win wars.
The United States and the
Soviet Union have more readily contemplated the use of nuclear weapons than
lesser nuclear states have done or are likely to do. But planning is distinct
from deciding to act. Planners think they should offer Presidents a range of
choices and a variety of nuclear weapons to carry them through. In the event,
Presidents, like Party Chairmen, will shy away from using nuclear weapons and
will act with extreme care in dealing with situations that might get out of
control, as they have done in the past. New nuclear states are likely to be
even more mindful of dangers and more
concerned for their safety than than some of the old ones have been.
Ordinarily, weak states calculate more fearfully and move more cautiously than
strong ones. The thought that fear and
caution may lead insecure countries to launch pre-emptive strikes has amplified
anxieties about the instability of regions populated by lesser nuclear powers
and about the extent of destruction their weapons may bring. Such worries rest
on inferences drawn froom the behaviour of conventional states and do not apply
to nuclear ones, for reasons already discussed.
Nuclear weapons lessen the
intensity as well as the frequency of war among their possessors. For fear of escalation, nuclear states do
not want to fight long or hard over important interests—indeed, they do not
want to fight at all. Minor nuclear states have even better reasons than major
ones to accommodate one another peacefully and to avoid any fighting. Worries
about the intensity of war among nuclear states have to be viewed in this
context and against a world in which conventional weapons become ever costlier
and more destructive.
Should a great power help a
lesser one improve on its force once it has shown the will and the ability to
build one? Will great powers be drawn into the nuclear confrontations of lesser
ones, or will they draw away from them to avoid involvement? Will small nuclear
powers cut themselves adrift from the great powers and follow independent
policies? Will small countries’ nuclear forces trigger an arms race between the
great powers? These questions suggest four ways in which big and small nuclear
powers may interact.
Small and crude forces tempt
pre-emption, so it is thought, and maybe used in reckless and unintended ways
because of inadequate command and control. These dangers can be removed by
great powers assisting lesser ones in building and managing their forces. Nevertheless,
neither the United States nor the Soviet Union will want to help much, lest
countries come to believe that they can build insufficient and unreliable
forces and rely on one of the great powers to turn them into something
substantial. Such hindrance is unfortunate, if improving others’ forces serves
wider interests. Is help required, not just for the sake of the recipient, but
also to avoid nuclear imbalances between states that might prompt wars and to
reduce the chances of accidents that might set them off? We saw earlier that
these are minor worries. Because they are minor, the United States and the
Soviet Union are not likely to be tempted to give technical help to countries
entering the nuclear military business.
Nuclear weapons in the hands
of six or seven states have lessened wars and limited conflicts. The further
spread of nuclear weapons can be expected to widen those effects. Should the
United States then promote the spread of nuclear weapons for the sake of peace,
even though we need not for the sake of stability? To do so would replace one
extreme policy with another. Present policy works hard to prevent additional
states from acquiring nuclear weapons. My examination of the effects of nuclear
weapons leads to the conclusion that our policy is wrong without supporting the
proposition that true proliferation—the rapid spread of nuclear weaponry—is
desirable. Rapid change may be destabilizing. The slow spread of nuclear
weapons gives states time to learn to live with them, to appreciate their
virtues, and to understand the limits they place on behaviour.
Will the United States and
the Soviet Union be drawn into the struggles of lesser nuclear states? This
question loses much of its urgency given the aversion of states to crises that
raise the spectre of nuclear war and the care they take in crises that do so.
Will they then draw away from other states’ crises rather than being drawn in?
The United States and the Soviet Union will continue to have interests in
various parts of the world for all of the old political. economic, and military
reasons. In a region where nuclear powers are locked in dispute, the great
powers will move cautiously in attempting to tend to their separate and to
their common interests. We can hardly expect the United States or the Soviet
Union to risk more in other people’s crises than they have risked in their own.
Neither the United States nor the Soviet Union want a regional nuclear confrontation
to become a global one. If that risk hangs over them, their strong mutual
interest is to withdraw.
Will lesser nuclear powers
want to edge away from their great-power patrons in order to be able to choose
their policies more freely? To do so would be risky. A nuclear Israel, for example,
may threaten to fire missiles at her attackers’ cities if ever their victory in
war seems likely. In the face of’ possible Russian opposition, signs of
American acquiescence in Israel’s policy would help to make the prospect of
retaliation credible. Any lesser power contemplating the use of nuclear weapons
even for deterrent or defensive purposes will expect opposition from at least
one of the great powers. An alliance or some other kind of connection with one
of them may stay the hand of the other. This is another way of saying that even
with nuclear weapons weaker states continue to depend on stronger states in
various ways.
By acquiring nuclear weapons
a state changes one variable in a complex equation of forces. That variable is
the most important one. Nuclear weapons increase the ability of states to fend
for themselves when the integrity of their legitimate boundaries is at stake.
Thus an Israeli deterrent force would enable Israel to maintain her legitimate
boundaries while reducing her extreme dependence on the United States. In
recent years our aid has amounted to a seventh or an eighth of Israel’s GNP
yearly. Such dependence will substantially lessen only it military security
becomes less of a concern or can be more cheaply provided. Nuclear weapons and
strategies, however, do not cover all of the military problems of new nuclear
states nor are military problems the whole of their concerns. Israeli
dependence on the United States will not disappear so long as she remains a
small country in a hostile world. Similarly, the deterrent effect of China’s nuclear
weapons makes her less dependent on others militarily, without much reducing
her need for economic and technical assistance. Nuclear weapons are useful
against threats to a state’s territorial integrity, but most of the doings of
states fall far short of this extreme. Independent nuclear forces reduce dependency
by lesser powers on others without eliminating it.
Will the nuclear arms of
lesser powers stimulate the great powers to further exertion? And will arms
control and disarmament agreements be harder to reach? Consider arms racing
first. A faster race between the great powers may come about in the following
way, and to some extent already has. The United States or the Soviet Union
builds more missiles and more defences against missiles as she perceives a
growing threat from China. The increased effort of one of the great powers
prompts the other to try harder, and the effects become reciprocating causes.
Action, reaction, and over-reaction by the United States and the Soviet Union
have formed a pattern too familiar to disregard. The pattern is likely to
repeat itself, but it need not.
Consider a historical case.
In 1967, McNamara half-heartedly proposed deploying a cheap ($5-billion) ABM system
designed to handle an attack by China even though, as he said, we had ‘the
power not only to destroy completely her entire nuclear offensive forces, but
to devastate her society as well’. Whatever his political and bureaucratic
reasons, be publicly argued that a light ABM system offered four advantages:
1) China might miscalculate.
2) America would be showing Asian states that
she would not let China blackmail them and would thus dampen their desires to
have their own nuclear weapons.
3) America would gain marginal protection for Minuteman sites against an attack by the
Soviet Union.
4) America would be safe against accidental
launchings.
Had the United States
persisted in building a ‘Chinese’ system, this might have prompted further efforts
by the Soviet Union. The United States and the Soviet Union can react to third countries’
nuclear forces in ways that stimulate their own competition in arms, but they
need not do so, as is shown by examining McNamara’s four reasons. His fourth
reason applies to any and all nuclear countries. It raises the question of the
value of taking out an ABM insurance policy against accidental firings whether
by third countries, by the Soviet Union, or by the United States. His third
reason applies explicitly to the Soviet Union and not to third nuclear
countries. His second reason rests on a false belief about the feasibility of
nuclear blackmail. Only the first of McNamara’s reasons applies specifically to
the forces of China or of any lesser nuclear country. It raises this question:
Under any imaginable circumstances, might a lesser nuclear country’s
miscalculation lead it to launch an attack on the United States? The
miscalculation would have to be monumental. Building missile defences against
China would imply that great powers can deter each other but cannot deter minor
ones. The weakness of the proposition is apparent.
Nor need more missiles be
added to either great power’s arsenal in order to deter lesser nuclear powers,
even should the great powers fail to deter each other. In 1978, the United
States had about 2,150 warheads on land-based launchers, about 5,120 on
sea-based launchers, and about 2,580 in bombers. These numbers had changed
little by 1980. One study estimates that the Soviet Union’s best attack,
launched in the mid-1980s and coming at the worst time for us with our forces
only on normal day-to-day alert, would leave us with about 6,400 warheads and
about 1,800 equivalent megatons. After such an attack, the Soviet Union would
have about 6,000 warheads left and 6.000 equivalent megatons. We would still
have more than we need since 1.000 Poseidon
warheads (the force loading of some six submarines) ‘can destroy about 75
percent of the Soviet industrial targets’. With our present force we can absorb
a first strike and still destroy the Soviet Union as ‘a modern industrial
society’, and do so with missiles to spare for counterforce attacks. And we and
they would have more than enough left over to deter third countries. This
plenitude of deliverable warheads is sometimes referred to as ‘sufficiency’.
The great powers scarcely need get into an arms race because of what lesser
powers do.
Still, the United States and
the Soviet Union do race from time to time, and the racing has been fuelled in
part by what third countries have done. The Soviet Union, for example, argues
that many of her intermediate and medium-range ballistic missiles are needed
because of the threat posed by China. Some of the NATO countries then conclude
that because these missiles threaten Western Europe, cruise missiles and Pershing IIs must be deployed there. This then further worries the Soviet
Union. No one doubts these effects.
Strategic arms races between
the United States and the Soviet Union, however, are produced mainly by the
strategies they follow and by the kinds of forces they build. In their
strategies, dissuasion by deterrence has always been alloyed with defensive and
war-fighting policies and capabilities. The number of Russian cities worth
striking is finite and indeed quite low. We have long had more survivable
warheads than Russian cities to strike. If only cities were aimed at, many warheads
would lack targets. The quantity of warheads on hand and their increased
accuracy constitute arguments for a counterforce strategy. In the last two
decades, the balance between deterrent strategy and war-fighting strategy has
tilted towards the latter. Available weapons affect the strategy a country
adopts, and the strategy that is fashioned in turn calls for the further
development of weapons. If each side views the other’s strategic forces as
designed for fighting wars as much as, or more than, for deterring them, then
arms races become very difficult to avoid. Such perceptions vary with changes
in the strategies and forces of the great powers, not of the lesser ones. Great
powers engage in arms races mainly because of what other great powers do. That
was true in a multipolar, conventional world; it remains true in a bipolar,
nuclear world.
The conclusion is in two
parts. After saying what follows for American policy from my analysis, I
briefly state the main reasons for believing that the slow spread of nuclear
weapons will promote peace and reinforce international stability.
I have argued that the
gradual spread of nuclear weapons is better than no spread and better than
rapid spread. We do not face a set of happy choices. We may prefer that
countries have conventional weapons only, do not run arms races, and do not
fight. Yet the alternative to nuclear weapons for some countries may be ruinous
arms races with high risk of their becoming engaged in debilitating conventional
wars.
Countries have to care for
their security with or without the help of others. If a country feels highly
insecure and believes that nuclear weapons will make it more secure, America’s
policy of opposing the spread of nuclear weapons will not easily determine
theirs. Any slight chance of bringing the spread of nuclear weapons to a full
stop exists only if the United States and the Soviet Union constantly and strenuously
try to achieve that end. To do so carries costs measured in terms of their other
interests. The strongest means by which the United States can persuade a
country to forgo nuclear weapons is a guarantee of its security, especially if
the guarantee is made credible by the presence of American troops. But how many
commitments do we want to make and how many countries do we want to garrison? We
are wisely reluctant to give guarantees, but we then should not expect to
decide how other countries are to provide for their security. As a neighbour of
China, India no doubt feels more secure, and can behave more reasonably, with a
nuclear weapons capability than without it. The thought applies as well to Pakistan
as India’s neighbour. We damage our relations with such countries by badgering
them about nuclear weapons while being unwilling to guarantee their security.
Under such circumstances they, not we, should decide what their national
interests require.
If the United States and the
Soviet Union lessen their opposition to the spread of nuclear weapons, will not
many states jump on the nuclear bandwagon? Some have feared that weakening
opposition to the spread of nuclear weapons will lead numerous states to make
them because it may seem that ‘everyone is doing it’.
Why should we think that if
the United States relaxes, numerous states will begin to make nuclear weapons?
Both the United States and the Soviet Union were more relaxed in the past, and
these effects did not follow. The Soviet Union initially furthered China’s
nuclear development. The United States continues to help Britain maintain her
deterrent forces. By 1968 the CIA had informed President Johnson of the existence
of Israeli nuclear weapons, and in July of 1970 Richard Helms, Director of the CIA,
gave this information to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. These and
later disclosures were not followed by censure of Israel or by reductions of
assistance to her. And in September of 1980 the Executive Branch, against the
will of the House of Representatives but with the approval of the Senate,
continued to do nuclear business with India despite her explosion of a nuclear
device and despite her unwillingness to sign the Nuclear Non-Proliferation
Treaty.
Assisting some countries in
the development of nuclear weapons and failing to oppose others has not caused
a nuclear stampede. Is the more recent leniency towards India likely to? One
reason to think so is that more countries now have the ability to make their
own nuclear weapons, more than forty of them according to Joseph Nye.
Many more countries can than
do. One can believe that American opposition to nuclear arming stays the deluge
only by overlooking the complications of international life. Any state has to
examine many conditions before deciding whether or not to develop nuclear
weapons. Our opposition is only one factor and is not likely to be the decisive
one. Many countries feel fairly secure living with their neighbours. Why should
they want nuclear weapons? Some countries feeling threatened, have found
security through their own strenuous efforts and through arrangements made with
others. South Korea is an outstanding example. Many South Korean officials
believe that South Korea would lose more in terms of American support if she
acquired nuclear weapons than she would gain by having them. Further, on occasion we might slow the spread
of nuclear weapons by not opposing
the nuclear-weapons programmes of some countries. When we oppose Pakistan’s
nuclear programme, we are saying that we disapprove of countries developing
nuclear weapons no matter what their neighbours do. Failing to oppose
Pakistan’s efforts also sends a signal to potential nuclear states, suggesting
that if a country develops nuclear weapons, a regional rival may do so as well
and may do so without opposition from us. This message may give pause to some
of the countries that are tempted to acquire nuclear weapons. After all, Argentina
is to Brazil as Pakistan is to India.
Neither the gradual spread of
nuclear weapons nor American and Russian acquiescence in this has opened the
nuclear floodgates. Nations attend to their security in ways they think best.
The fact that so many more countries can make nuclear weapons than do make
them says more about the hesitation of countries to enter the nuclear military
business than about the effectiveness of American policy. We can sensibly suit
our policy to individual cases. sometimes bringing pressure against a country
moving towards nuclear-weapons capability and sometimes quietly acquiescing. No
one policy is right for all countries. We should ask what our interests in regional
peace and stability require in particular instances. We should also ask what
the interests of other countries require before putting pressure on them. Some countries
are likely to suffer more in cost and pain if they remain conventional states
than if they become nuclear ones. The measured and selective spread of nuclear
weapons does not run against our interests and can increase the security of
some states at a price they can afford to pay.
It is not likely that nuclear
weapons will spread with a speed that exceeds the ability of their new owners
to adjust to them. The spread of nuclear weapons is something that we have
worried too much about and tried too hard to stop.
What will a world populated
by a larger number of nuclear states look like? I have drawn a picture of such
a world that accords with experience throughout the nuclear age. Those who dread
a world with more nuclear states do little more than assert that more is worse
and claim without substantiation that new nuclear states will be less
responsible and less capable of self-control than the old ones have been. They
express fears that many felt when they imagined how a nuclear China would
behave. Such fears have proved un-rounded as nuclear weapons have slowly
spread. I have found many reasons for believing that with more nuclear states
the world will have a promising future. I have reached this unusual conclusion
for six main reasons.
First, international politics
is a self-help system, and in such systems the principal parties do most to
determine their own fate, the fate of other parties, and the fate of the system.
This will continue to be so, with the United States and the Soviet Union
filling their customary roles. For the United States and the Soviet Union to
achieve nuclear maturity and to show this by behaving sensibly is more
important than preventing the spread of nuclear weapons.
Second, given the massive
numbers of American and Russian warheads, and given the impossibility of one
side destroying enough of the other side’s missiles to make a retaliatory strike
bearable, the balance of terror is indestructible. What can lesser states do
to disrupt the nuclear equilibrium if even the mighty efforts of the United
States and the Soviet Union cannot shake it? The international equilibrium will
endure.
Third, at the strategic level each of the great powers has to gauge the strength only of itself in relation to the other. They do not have to make guesses about the strengths of opposing coalitions, guesses that involve such imponderables as the coherence of diverse parties and their ability to concert their efforts. Estimating effective forces is thus made easier. Wars come most often by miscalculation. Miscalculation will not come from carelessness and inattention in a bipolar world as it may in a multipolar one.
Fourth, nuclear weaponry
makes miscalculation difficult because it is hard not to be aware of how much
damage a small number of warheads can do. Early in this century Norman Angell
argued that wars could not occur because they would not pay. But conventional wars have brought
political gains to
some countries at the expense
of others. Germans founded a state by fighting three short wars, in the last of
which France lost Alsace. Lorraine. Among nuclear countries, possible losses in
war overwhelm possible gains. In the nuclear age Angell’s dictum, broadly interpreted,
becomes persuasive. When the active use of force threatens to bring great
losses, war become less likely. This proposition is widely accepted but
insufficiently emphasized. Nuclear weapons have reduced the chances of war
between the United States and the Soviet Union and between the Soviet Union and
China. One may expect them to have similar effects elsewhere. Where nuclear
weapons threaten to make the cost of wars immense, who will dare to start them?
Nuclear weapons make it possible to approach the deterrent ideal.
Filth, nuclear weapons can be
used for defence as well as for deterrence. Some have argued that an apparently
impregnable nuclear defence can be mounted. The Maginot Line has given defence
a bad name. It nevertheless remains true that the incidence of wars decreases
as the perceived difficulty of winning them increases. No one attacks a defence
believed to be impregnable. Nuclear weapons may make it possible to approach
the defensive ideal. If so, the spread of nuclear weapons will further help to
maintain peace.
Sixth, new nuclear states
will confront the possibilities and feel the constraints that present nuclear
states have experienced. New nuclear states will be more concerned for their
safety and more mindful of dangers than some of the old ones have been. Until
recently, only the great and some of the major powers have had nuclear weapons.
While nuclear weapons have spread, conventional weapons have proliferated.
Under these circumstances, wars have been fought not at the centre but at the
periphery of international politics. The likelihood of war decreases as
deterrent and defensive capabilities increase. Nuclear weapons, responsibly
used, make wars hard to start. Nations
that have nuclear weapons have strong incentives to use them responsibly. These
statements hold for small as for big nuclear powers. Because they do, the
measured spread of nuclear weapons is more to be welcomed than feared.