foreign affairs
挺早就定了foreign affairs，有时候看看，平时也不一定看完，独自使用有点浪费，以后就专门在这儿发foreign affairs的期刊，英语好，又需要的童鞋可以来这里下，从2012年1月贴起，需要以前的期刊可以在下面留言，我也可以上传本帖最后由 coolhihi 于 2012-2-20 03:09 编辑
不知道为什么总是上传失败... 管理员能否增大我上传附件的大小，大概都在20M以内
现在只能上传这个...
可以上传到新浪然后这里发链接?
netsouth 发表于 2012-2-20 12:47 static/image/common/back.gif
可以上传到新浪然后这里发链接?
新浪的什么？微薄？ 新浪 iask共享资料啊...忙总推荐的书都可以再上面查到. 本帖最后由 hans 于 2012-2-21 03:21 编辑
哈哈，你要是有兴趣，把忙总推荐过的foreign affairs值得看的八篇文章都找来吧，下面是忙总指出的文章，我只是找过后面最近的几篇看了下，兄台如果能找齐全，则功德无量呀！
quote from wxmang:
1、1947 年7 月,乔治·凯南《外交季刊》《苏联外交行为的根源》：这篇文章奠定冷战框架。
2、1953年7月号，罗伯特·奥本海默《外交季刊》《原子武器与美国政策》：奠定了今日确保互相摧毁的威慑理论，保证了大国间不发生战争。
3、1962年7月号亨利·基辛格《外交季刊》《欧洲防御所沒有解决的問題》：这篇文章奠定整个欧洲地缘政治格局。
4、1967年10月号，尼克松《外交季刊》第四期《越南战争之后的亚洲》：这篇文章奠定中美开始交往。
5、1993年，SamuelP.Huntington《外交季刊》11/12月号《WHY CIVILIZATIONS WILL CLASH》：这篇文章奠定了新保守主义的文化遏制理论基础。
6、1997年Jessica T. Mathews《外交季刊》《权力的转移》：被评为该杂志75年以来最有影响力的文章之一。
7、1998年5月号PaulKrugman《外交季刊》《是昙花一现，还是新趋势的开端——评1997年美国经济》：揭示美国衰退的先兆。
8、2008年7月/8月号,Fred Bergsten《外交季刊》《A Partnership of Equals》：提出G-2的概念，共同领导全球经济体制。 hans 发表于 2012-2-21 03:20 static/image/common/back.gif
哈哈，你要是有兴趣，把忙总推荐过的foreign affairs值得看的八篇文章都找来吧，下面是忙总指出的文章，我 ...
可以，只要定了foreign affairs，就可以看它以前所有的文章，不过不能下载，只能网上看 The Sources of Soviet Conduct
The political personality of Soviet power as we know it today is the product of ideology and circumstances: ideology inherited by the present Soviet leaders from the movement in which they had their political origin, and circumstances of the power which they now have exercised for nearly three decades in Russia. There can be few tasks of psychological analysis more difficult than to try to trace the interaction of these two forces and the relative role of each in the determination of official Soviet conduct. Yet the attempt must be made if that conduct is to be understood and effectively countered.
It is difficult to summarize the set of ideological concepts with which the Soviet leaders came into power. Marxian ideology, in its Russian-Communist projection, has always been in process of subtle evolution. The materials on which it bases itself are extensive and complex. But the outstanding features of Communist thought as it existed in 1916 may perhaps be summarized as follows: (a) that the central factor in the life of man, the factor which determines the character of public life and the "physiognomy of society," is the system by which material goods are produced and exchanged; (b) that the capitalist system of production is a nefarious one which inevitably leads to the exploitation of the working class by the capital-owning class and is incapable of developing adequately the economic resources of society or of distributing fairly the material goods produced by human labor; (c) that capitalism contains the seeds of its own destruction and must, in view of the inability of the capital-owning class to adjust itself to economic change, result eventually and inescapably in a revolutionary transfer of power to the working class; and (d) that imperialism, the final phase of capitalism, leads directly to war and revolution.
The rest may be outlined in Lenin's own words: "Unevenness of economic and political development is the inflexible law of capitalism. It follows from this that the victory of Socialism may come originally in a few capitalist countries or even in a single capitalist country. The victorious proletariat of that country, having expropriated the capitalists and having organized Socialist production at home, would rise against the remaining capitalist world, drawing to itself in the process the oppressed classes of other countries." It must be noted that there was no assumption that capitalism would perish without proletarian revolution. A final push was needed from a revolutionary proletariat movement in order to tip over the tottering structure. But it was regarded as inevitable that sooner or later that push be given.
For 50 years prior to the outbreak of the Revolution, this pattern of thought had exercised great fascination for the members of the Russian revolutionary movement. Frustrated, discontented, hopeless of finding self-expression -- or too impatient to seek it -- in the confining limits of the Tsarist political system, yet lacking wide popular support for their choice of bloody revolution as a means of social betterment, these revolutionists found in Marxist theory a highly convenient rationalization for their own instinctive desires. It afforded pseudo-scientific justification for their impatience, for their categorical denial of all value in the Tsarist system, for their yearning for power and revenge and for their inclination to cut corners in the pursuit of it. It is therefore no wonder that they had come to believe implicitly in the truth and soundness of the Marxian-Leninist teachings, so congenial to their own impulses and emotions. Their sincerity need not be impugned. This is a phenomenon as old as human nature itself. It has never been more aptly described than by Edward Gibbon, who wrote in The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire: "From enthusiasm to imposture the step is perilous and slippery; the demon of Socrates affords a memorable instance how a wise man may deceive himself, how a good man may deceive others, how the conscience may slumber in a mixed and middle state between self-illusion and voluntary fraud." And it was with this set of conceptions that the members of the Bolshevik Party entered into power.
Now it must be noted that through all the years of preparation for revolution, the attention of these men, as indeed of Marx himself, had been centered less on the future form which Socialism would take than on the necessary overthrow of rival power which, in their view, had to precede the introduction of Socialism. Their views, therefore, on the positive program to be put into effect, once power was attained, were for the most part nebulous, visionary and impractical. Beyond the nationalization of industry and the expropriation of large private capital holdings there was no agreed program. The treatment of the peasantry, which according to the Marxist formulation was not of the proletariat, had always been a vague spot in the pattern of Communist thought; and it remained an object of controversy and vacillation for the first ten years of Communist power.
The circumstances of the immediate post-revolution period -- the existence in Russia of civil war and foreign intervention, together with the obvious fact that the Communists represented only a tiny minority of the Russian people -- made the establishment of dictatorial power a necessity. The experiment with "war Communism" and the abrupt attempt to eliminate private production and trade had unfortunate economic consequences and caused further bitterness against the new revolutionary regime. While the temporary relaxation of the effort to communize Russia, represented by the New Economic Policy, alleviated some of this economic distress and thereby served its purpose, it also made it evident that the "capitalistic sector of society" was still prepared to profit at once from any relaxation of governmental pressure, and would, if permitted to continue to exist, always constitute a powerful opposing element to the Soviet regime and a serious rival for influence in the country. Somewhat the same situation prevailed with respect to the individual peasant who, in his own small way, was also a private producer.
Lenin, had he lived, might have proved a great enough man to reconcile these conflicting forces to the ultimate benefit of Russian society, though this is questionable. But be that as it may, Stalin, and those whom he led in the struggle for succession to Lenin's position of leadership, were not the men to tolerate rival political forces in the sphere of power which they coveted. Their sense of insecurity was too great. Their particular brand of fanaticism, unmodified by any of the Anglo-Saxon traditions of compromise, was too fierce and too jealous to envisage any permanent sharing of power. From the Russian-Asiatic world out of which they had emerged they carried with them a skepticism as to the possibilities of permanent and peaceful coexistence of rival forces. Easily persuaded of their own doctrinaire "rightness," they insisted on the submission or destruction of all competing power. Outside of the Communist Party, Russian society was to have no rigidity. There were to be no forms of collective human activity or association which would not be dominated by the Party. No other force in Russian society was to be permitted to achieve vitality or integrity. Only the Party was to have structure. All else was to be an amorphous mass.
And within the Party the same principle was to apply. The mass of Party members might go through the motions of election, deliberation, decision and action; but in these motions they were to be animated not by their own individual wills but by the awesome breath of the Party leadership and the over-brooding presence of "the word."
Let it be stressed again that subjectively these men probably did not seek absolutism for its own sake. They doubtless believed -- and found it easy to believe -- that they alone knew what was good for society and that they would accomplish that good once their power was secure and unchallengeable. But in seeking that security of their own rule they were prepared to recognize no restrictions, either of God or man, on the character of their methods. And until such time as that security might be achieved, they placed far down on their scale of operational priorities the comforts and happiness of the peoples entrusted to their care.
Now the outstanding circumstance concerning the Soviet regime is that down to the present day this process of political consolidation has never been completed and the men in the Kremlin have continued to be predominantly absorbed with the struggle to secure and make absolute the power which they seized in November 1917. They have endeavored to secure it primarily against forces at home, within Soviet society itself. But they have also endeavored to secure it against the outside world. For ideology, as we have seen, taught them that the outside world was hostile and that it was their duty eventually to overthrow the political forces beyond their borders. The powerful hands of Russian history and tradition reached up to sustain them in this feeling. Finally, their own aggressive intransigence with respect to the outside world began to find its own reaction; and they were soon forced, to use another Gibbonesque phrase, "to chastise the contumacy" which they themselves had provoked. It is an undeniable privilege of every man to prove himself right in the thesis that the world is his enemy; for if he reiterates it frequently enough and makes it the background of his conduct he is bound eventually to be right.
Now it lies in the nature of the mental world of the Soviet leaders, as well as in the character of their ideology, that no opposition to them can be officially recognized as having any merit or justification whatsoever. Such opposition can flow, in theory, only from the hostile and incorrigible forces of dying capitalism. As long as remnants of capitalism were officially recognized as existing in Russia, it was possible to place on them, as an internal element, part of the blame for the maintenance of a dictatorial form of society. But as these remnants were liquidated, little by little, this justification fell away; and when it was indicated officially that they had been finally destroyed, it disappeared altogether. And this fact created one of the most basic of the compulsions which came to act upon the Soviet regime: since capitalism no longer existed in Russia and since it could not be admitted that there could be serious or widespread opposition to the Kremlin springing spontaneously from the liberated masses under its authority, it became necessary to justify the retention of the dictatorship by stressing the menace of capitalism abroad.
This began at an early date. In 1924 Stalin specifically defended the retention of the "organs of suppression," meaning, among others, the army and the secret police, on the ground that "as long as there is a capitalist encirclement there will be danger of intervention with all the consequences that flow from that danger." In accordance with that theory, and from that time on, all internal opposition forces in Russia have consistently been portrayed as the agents of foreign forces of reaction antagonistic to Soviet power.
By the same token, tremendous emphasis has been placed on the original Communist thesis of a basic antagonism between the capitalist and Socialist worlds. It is clear, from many indications, that this emphasis is not founded in reality. The real facts concerning it have been confused by the existence abroad of genuine resentment provoked by Soviet philosophy and tactics and occasionally by the existence of great centers of military power, notably the Nazi regime in Germany and the Japanese Government of the late 1930s, which did indeed have aggressive designs against the Soviet Union. But there is ample evidence that the stress laid in Moscow on the menace confronting Soviet society from the world outside its borders is founded not in the realities of foreign antagonism but in the necessity of explaining away the maintenance of dictatorial authority at home.
Now the maintenance of this pattern of Soviet power, namely, the pursuit of unlimited authority domestically, accompanied by the cultivation of the semi-myth of implacable foreign hostility, has gone far to shape the actual machinery of Soviet power as we know it today. Internal organs of administration which did not serve this purpose withered on the vine. Organs which did serve this purpose became vastly swollen. The security of Soviet power came to rest on the iron discipline of the Party, on the severity and ubiquity of the secret police, and on the uncompromising economic monopolism of the state. The "organs of suppression," in which the Soviet leaders had sought security from rival forces, became in large measure the masters of those whom they were designed to serve. Today the major part of the structure of Soviet power is committed to the perfection of the dictatorship and to the maintenance of the concept of Russia as in a state of siege, with the enemy lowering beyond the walls. And the millions of human beings who form that part of the structure of power must defend at all costs this concept of Russia's position, for without it they are themselves superfluous.
As things stand today, the rulers can no longer dream of parting with these organs of suppression. The quest for absolute power, pursued now for nearly three decades with a ruthlessness unparalleled (in scope at least) in modern times, has again produced internally, as it did externally, its own reaction. The excesses of the police apparatus have fanned the potential opposition to the regime into something far greater and more dangerous than it could have been before those excesses began.
But least of all can the rulers dispense with the fiction by which the maintenance of dictatorial power has been defended. For this fiction has been canonized in Soviet philosophy by the excesses already committed in its name; and it is now anchored in the Soviet structure of thought by bonds far greater than those of mere ideology.
II
So much for the historical background. What does it spell in terms of the political personality of Soviet power as we know it today?
Of the original ideology, nothing has been officially junked. Belief is maintained in the basic badness of capitalism, in the inevitability of its destruction, in the obligation of the proletariat to assist in that destruction and to take power into its own hands. But stress has come to be laid primarily on those concepts which relate most specifically to the Soviet regime itself: to its position as the sole truly Socialist regime in a dark and misguided world, and to the relationships of power within it.
The first of these concepts is that of the innate antagonism between capitalism and Socialism. We have seen how deeply that concept has become imbedded in foundations of Soviet power. It has profound implications for Russia's conduct as a member of international society. It means that there can never be on Moscow's side any sincere assumption of a community of aims between the Soviet Union and powers which are regarded as capitalist. It must invariably be assumed in Moscow that the aims of the capitalist world are antagonistic to the Soviet regime, and therefore to the interests of the peoples it controls. If the Soviet government occasionally sets its signature to documents which would indicate the contrary, this is to be regarded as a tactical maneuver permissible in dealing with the enemy (who is without honor) and should be taken in the spirit of caveat emptor. Basically, the antagonism remains. It is postulated. And from it flow many of the phenomena which we find disturbing in the Kremlin's conduct of foreign policy: the secretiveness, the lack of frankness, the duplicity, the wary suspiciousness and the basic unfriendliness of purpose. These phenomena are there to stay, for the foreseeable future. There can be variations of degree and of emphasis. When there is something the Russians want from us, one or the other of these features of their policy may be thrust temporarily into the background; and when that happens there will always be Americans who will leap forward with gleeful announcements that "the Russians have changed," and some who will even try to take credit for having brought about such "changes." But we should not be misled by tactical maneuvers. These characteristics of Soviet policy, like the postulate from which they flow, are basic to the internal nature of Soviet power, and will be with us, whether in the foreground or the background, until the internal nature of Soviet power is changed.
This means that we are going to continue for a long time to find the Russians difficult to deal with. It does not mean that they should be considered as embarked upon a do-or-die program to overthrow our society by a given date. The theory of the inevitability of the eventual fall of capitalism has the fortunate connotation that there is no hurry about it. The forces of progress can take their time in preparing the final coup de gráce. Meanwhile, what is vital is that the "Socialist fatherland" -- that oasis of power which has been already won for Socialism in the person of the Soviet Union -- should be cherished and defended by all good Communists at home and abroad, its fortunes promoted, its enemies badgered and confounded. The promotion of premature, "adventuristic" revolutionary projects abroad which might embarrass Soviet power in any way would be an inexcusable, even a counterrevolutionary act. The cause of Socialism is the support and promotion of Soviet power, as defined in Moscow.
This brings us to the second of the concepts important to contemporary Soviet outlook. That is the infallibility of the Kremlin. The Soviet concept of power, which permits no focal points of organization outside the Party itself, requires that the Party leadership remain in theory the sole repository of truth. For if truth were to be found elsewhere, there would be justification for its expression in organized activity. But it is precisely that which the Kremlin cannot and will not permit.
The leadership of the Communist Party is therefore always right, and has been always right ever since in 1929 Stalin formalized his personal power by announcing that decisions of the Politburo were being taken unanimously.
On the principle of infallibility there rests the iron discipline of the Communist Party. In fact, the two concepts are mutually self-supporting. Perfect discipline requires recognition of infallibility. Infallibility requires the observance of discipline. And the two together go far to determine the behaviorism of the entire Soviet apparatus of power. But their effect cannot be understood unless a third factor be taken into account: namely, the fact that the leadership is at liberty to put forward for tactical purposes any particular thesis which it finds useful to the cause at any particular moment and to require the faithful and unquestioning acceptance of the thesis by the members of the movement as a whole. This means that truth is not a constant but is actually created, for all intents and purposes, by the Soviet leaders themselves. It may vary from week to week, month to month. It is nothing absolute and immutable -- nothing which flows from objective reality. It is only the most recent manifestation of the wisdom of those in whom the ultimate wisdom is supposed to reside, because they represent the logic of history. The accumulative effect of these factors is to give to the whole subordinate apparatus of Soviet power an unshakable stubbornness and steadfastness in its orientation. This orientation can be changed at will by the Kremlin but by no other power. Once a given party line has been laid down on a given issue of current policy, the whole Soviet governmental machine, including the mechanism of diplomacy, moves inexorably along the prescribed path, like a persistent toy automobile wound up and headed in a given direction, stopping only when it meets with some unanswerable force. The individuals who are the components of this machine are unamenable to argument or reason which comes to them from outside sources. Their whole training has taught them to mistrust and discount the glib persuasiveness of the outside world. Like the white dog before the phonograph, they hear only the "master's voice." And if they are to be called off from the purposes last dictated to them, it is the master who must call them off. Thus the foreign representative cannot hope that his words will make any impression on them. The most that he can hope is that they will be transmitted to those at the top, who are capable of changing the party line. But even those are not likely to be swayed by any normal logic in the words of the bourgeois representative. Since there can be no appeal to common purposes, there can be no appeal to common mental approaches. For this reason, facts speak louder than words to the ears of the Kremlin; and words carry the greatest weight when they have the ring of reflecting, or being backed up by, facts of unchallengeable validity.
But we have seen that the Kremlin is under no ideological compulsion to accomplish its purposes in a hurry. Like the Church, it is dealing in ideological concepts which are of long-term validity, and it can afford to be patient. It has no right to risk the existing achievements of the revolution for the sake of vain baubles of the future. The very teachings of Lenin himself require great caution and flexibility in the pursuit of Communist purposes. Again, these precepts are fortified by the lessons of Russian history: of centuries of obscure battles between nomadic forces over the stretches of a vast unfortified plain. Here caution, circumspection, flexibility and deception are the valuable qualities; and their value finds natural appreciation in the Russian or the oriental mind. Thus the Kremlin has no compunction about retreating in the face of superior force. And being under the compulsion of no timetable, it does not get panicky under the necessity for such retreat. Its political action is a fluid stream which moves constantly, wherever it is permitted to move, toward a given goal. Its main concern is to make sure that it has filled every nook and cranny available to it in the basin of world power. But if it finds unassailable barriers in its path, it accepts these philosophically and accommodates itself to them. The main thing is that there should always be pressure, unceasing constant pressure, toward the desired goal. There is no trace of any feeling in Soviet psychology that that goal must be reached at any given time.
These considerations make Soviet diplomacy at once easier and more difficult to deal with than the diplomacy of individual aggressive leaders like Napoleon and Hitler. On the one hand it is more sensitive to contrary force, more ready to yield on individual sectors of the diplomatic front when that force is felt to be too strong, and thus more rational in the logic and rhetoric of power. On the other hand it cannot be easily defeated or discouraged by a single victory on the part of its opponents. And the patient persistence by which it is animated means that it can be effectively countered not by sporadic acts which represent the momentary whims of democratic opinion but only by intelligent long-range policies on the part of Russia's adversaries -- policies no less steady in their purpose, and no less variegated and resourceful in their application, than those of the Soviet Union itself.
In these circumstances it is clear that the main element of any United States policy toward the Soviet Union must be that of a long-term, patient but firm and vigilant containment of Russian expansive tendencies. It is important to note, however, that such a policy has nothing to do with outward histrionics: with threats or blustering or superfluous gestures of outward "toughness." While the Kremlin is basically flexible in its reaction to political realities, it is by no means unamenable to considerations of prestige. Like almost any other government, it can be placed by tactless and threatening gestures in a position where it cannot afford to yield even though this might be dictated by its sense of realism. The Russian leaders are keen judges of human psychology, and as such they are highly conscious that loss of temper and of self-control is never a source of strength in political affairs. They are quick to exploit such evidences of weakness. For these reasons, it is a sine qua non of successful dealing with Russia that the foreign government in question should remain at all times cool and collected and that its demands on Russian policy should be put forward in such a manner as to leave the way open for a compliance not too detrimental to Russian prestige.
III
In the light of the above, it will be clearly seen that the Soviet pressure against the free institutions of the Western world is something that can be contained by the adroit and vigilant application of counterforce at a series of constantly shifting geographical and political points, corresponding to the shifts and maneuvers of Soviet policy, but which cannot be charmed or talked out of existence. The Russians look forward to a duel of infinite duration, and they see that already they have scored great successes. It must be borne in mind that there was a time when the Communist Party represented far more of a minority in the sphere of Russian national life than Soviet power today represents in the world community.
But if ideology convinces the rulers of Russia that truth is on their side and that they can therefore afford to wait, those of us on whom that ideology has no claim are free to examine objectively the validity of that premise. The Soviet thesis not only implies complete lack of control by the west over its own economic destiny, it likewise assumes Russian unity, discipline and patience over an infinite period. Let us bring this apocalyptic vision down to earth, and suppose that the western world finds the strength and resourcefulness to contain Soviet power over a period of ten to fifteen years. What does that spell for Russia itself?
The Soviet leaders, taking advantage of the contributions of modern technique to the arts of despotism, have solved the question of obedience within the confines of their power. Few challenge their authority; and even those who do are unable to make that challenge valid as against the organs of suppression of the state.
The Kremlin has also proved able to accomplish its purpose of building up in Russia, regardless of the interests of the inhabitants, an industrial foundation of heavy metallurgy, which is, to be sure, not yet complete but which is nevertheless continuing to grow and is approaching those of the other major industrial countries. All of this, however, both the maintenance of internal political security and the building of heavy industry, has been carried out at a terrible cost in human life and in human hopes and energies. It has necessitated the use of forced labor on a scale unprecedented in modern times under conditions of peace. It has involved the neglect or abuse of other phases of Soviet economic life, particularly agriculture, consumers' goods production, housing and transportation.
To all that, the war has added its tremendous toll of destruction, death and human exhaustion. In consequence of this, we have in Russia today a population which is physically and spiritually tired. The mass of the people are disillusioned, skeptical and no longer as accessible as they once were to the magical attraction which Soviet power still radiates to its followers abroad. The avidity with which people seized upon the slight respite accorded to the Church for tactical reasons during the war was eloquent testimony to the fact that their capacity for faith and devotion found little expression in the purposes of the regime.
In these circumstances, there are limits to the physical and nervous strength of people themselves. These limits are absolute ones, and are binding even for the cruelest dictatorship, because beyond them people cannot be driven. The forced labor camps and the other agencies of constraint provide temporary means of compelling people to work longer hours than their own volition or mere economic pressure would dictate; but if people survive them at all they become old before their time and must be considered as human casualties to the demands of dictatorship. In either case their best powers are no longer available to society and can no longer be enlisted in the service of the state.
Here only the younger generation can help. The younger generation, despite all vicissitudes and sufferings, is numerous and vigorous; and the Russians are a talented people. But it still remains to be seen what will be the effects on mature performance of the abnormal emotional strains of childhood which Soviet dictatorship created and which were enormously increased by the war. Such things as normal security and placidity of home environment have practically ceased to exist in the Soviet Union outside of the most remote farms and villages. And observers are not yet sure whether that is not going to leave its mark on the overall capacity of the generation now coming into maturity.
In addition to this, we have the fact that Soviet economic development, while it can list certain formidable achievements, has been precariously spotty and uneven. Russian Communists who speak of the "uneven development of capitalism" should blush at the contemplation of their own national economy. Here certain branches of economic life, such as the metallurgical and machine industries, have been pushed out of all proportion to other sectors of economy. Here is a nation striving to become in a short period one of the great industrial nations of the world while it still has no highway network worthy of the name and only a relatively primitive network of railways. Much has been done to increase efficiency of labor and to teach primitive peasants something about the operation of machines. But maintenance is still a crying deficiency of all Soviet economy. Construction is hasty and poor in quality. Depreciation must be enormous. And in vast sectors of economic life it has not yet been possible to instill into labor anything like that general culture of production and technical self-respect which characterizes the skilled worker of the west.
It is difficult to see how these deficiencies can be corrected at an early date by a tired and dispirited population working largely under the shadow of fear and compulsion. And as long as they are not overcome, Russia will remain economically a vulnerable, and in a certain sense an impotent, nation, capable of exporting its enthusiasm and of radiating the strange charm of its primitive political vitality but unable to back up those articles of export by the real evidences of material power and prosperity.
Meanwhile, a great uncertainty hangs over the political life of the Soviet Union. That is the uncertainty involved in the transfer of power from one individual or group of individuals to others.
This is, of course, outstandingly the problem of the personal position of Stalin. We must remember that his succession to Lenin's pinnacle of preeminence in the Communist movement was the only such transfer of individual authority which the Soviet Union has experienced. That transfer took 12 years to consolidate. It cost the lives of millions of people and shook the state to its foundations. The attendant tremors were felt all through the international revolutionary movement, to the disadvantage of the Kremlin itself.
It is always possible that another transfer of preeminent power may take place quietly and inconspicuously, with no repercussions anywhere. But again, it is possible that the questions involved may unleash, to use some of Lenin's words, one of those "incredibly swift transitions" from "delicate deceit" to "wild violence" which characterize Russian history, and may shake Soviet power to its foundations.
But this is not only a question of Stalin himself. There has been, since 1938, a dangerous congealment of political life in the higher circles of Soviet power. The All-Union Congress of Soviets, in theory the supreme body of the Party, is supposed to meet not less often than once in three years. It will soon be eight full years since its last meeting. During this period membership in the Party has numerically doubled. Party mortality during the war was enormous; and today well over half of the Party members are persons who have entered since the last Party congress was held. Meanwhile, the same small group of men has carried on at the top through an amazing series of national vicissitudes. Surely there is some reason why the experiences of the war brought basic political changes to every one of the great governments of the west. Surely the causes of that phenomenon are basic enough to be present somewhere in the obscurity of Soviet political life, as well. And yet no recognition has been given to these causes in Russia.
It must be surmised from this that even within so highly disciplined an organization as the Communist Party there must be a growing divergence in age, outlook and interest between the great mass of Party members, only so recently recruited into the movement, and the little self-perpetuating clique of men at the top, whom most of these Party members have never met, with whom they have never conversed, and with whom they can have no political intimacy.
Who can say whether, in these circumstances, the eventual rejuvenation of the higher spheres of authority (which can only be a matter of time) can take place smoothly and peacefully, or whether rivals in the quest for higher power will not eventually reach down into these politically immature and inexperienced masses in order to find support for their respective claims? If this were ever to happen, strange consequences could flow for the Communist Party: for the membership at large has been exercised only in the practices of iron discipline and obedience and not in the arts of compromise and accommodation. And if disunity were ever to seize and paralyze the Party, the chaos and weakness of Russian society would be revealed in forms beyond description. For we have seen that Soviet power is only a crust concealing an amorphous mass of human beings among whom no independent organizational structure is tolerated. In Russia there is not even such a thing as local government. The present generation of Russians have never known spontaneity of collective action. If, consequently, anything were ever to occur to disrupt the unity and efficacy of the Party as a political instrument, Soviet Russia might be changed overnight from one of the strongest to one of the weakest and most pitiable of national societies.
Thus the future of Soviet power may not be by any means as secure as Russian capacity for self-delusion would make it appear to the men in the Kremlin. That they can keep power themselves, they have demonstrated. That they can quietly and easily turn it over to others remains to be proved. Meanwhile, the hardships of their rule and the vicissitudes of international life have taken a heavy toll of the strength and hopes of the great people on whom their power rests. It is curious to note that the ideological power of Soviet authority is strongest today in areas beyond the frontiers of Russia, beyond the reach of its police power. This phenomenon brings to mind a comparison used by Thomas Mann in his great novel Buddenbrooks. Observing that human institutions often show the greatest outward brilliance at a moment when inner decay is in reality farthest advanced, he compared the Buddenbrook family, in the days of its greatest glamour, to one of those stars whose light shines most brightly on this world when in reality it has long since ceased to exist. And who can say with assurance that the strong light still cast by the Kremlin on the dissatisfied peoples of the western world is not the powerful afterglow of a constellation which is in actuality on the wane? This cannot be proved. And it cannot be disproved. But the possibility remains (and in the opinion of this writer it is a strong one) that Soviet power, like the capitalist world of its conception, bears within it the seeds of its own decay, and that the sprouting of these seeds is well advanced.
IV
It is clear that the United States cannot expect in the foreseeable future to enjoy political intimacy with the Soviet regime. It must continue to regard the Soviet Union as a rival, not a partner, in the political arena. It must continue to expect that Soviet policies will reflect no abstract love of peace and stability, no real faith in the possibility of a permanent happy coexistence of the Socialist and capitalist worlds, but rather a cautious, persistent pressure toward the disruption and weakening of all rival influence and rival power.
Balanced against this are the facts that Russia, as opposed to the western world in general, is still by far the weaker party, that Soviet policy is highly flexible, and that Soviet society may well contain deficiencies which will eventually weaken its own total potential. This would of itself warrant the United States entering with reasonable confidence upon a policy of firm containment, designed to confront the Russians with unalterable counterforce at every point where they show signs of encroaching upon the interest of a peaceful and stable world.
But in actuality the possibilities for American policy are by no means limited to holding the line and hoping for the best. It is entirely possible for the United States to influence by its actions the internal developments, both within Russia and throughout the international Communist movement, by which Russian policy is largely determined. This is not only a question of the modest measure of informational activity which this government can conduct in the Soviet Union and elsewhere, although that, too, is important. It is rather a question of the degree to which the United States can create among the peoples of the world generally the impression of a country which knows what it wants, which is coping successfully with the problems of its internal life and with the responsibilities of a world power, and which has a spiritual vitality capable of holding its own among the major ideological currents of the time. To the extent that such an impression can be created and maintained, the aims of Russian Communism must appear sterile and quixotic, the hopes and enthusiasm of Moscow's supporters must wane, and added strain must be imposed on the Kremlin's foreign policies. For the palsied decrepitude of the capitalist world is the keystone of Communist philosophy. Even the failure of the United States to experience the early economic depression which the ravens of the Red Square have been predicting with such complacent confidence since hostilities ceased would have deep and important repercussions throughout the Communist world.
By the same token, exhibitions of indecision, disunity and internal disintegration within this country have an exhilarating effect on the whole Communist movement. At each evidence of these tendencies, a thrill of hope and excitement goes through the Communist world; a new jauntiness can be noted in the Moscow tread; new groups of foreign supporters climb on to what they can only view as the bandwagon of international politics; and Russian pressure increases all along the line in international affairs.
In would be an exaggeration to say that American behavior unassisted and alone could exercise a power of life and death over the Communist movement and bring about the early fall of Soviet power in Russia. But the United States has it in its power to increase enormously the strains under which Soviet policy must operate, to force upon the Kremlin a far greater degree of moderation and circumspection than it has had to observe in recent years, and in this way to promote tendencies which must eventually find their outlet in either the breakup or the gradual mellowing of Soviet power. For no mystical, messianic movement -- and particularly not that of the Kremlin -- can face frustration indefinitely without eventually adjusting itself in one way or another to the logic of that state of affairs.
Thus the decision will really fall in large measure on this country itself. The issue of Soviet-American relations is in essence a test of the overall worth of the United States as a nation among nations. To avoid destruction the United States need only measure up to its own best traditions and prove itself worthy of preservation as a great nation.
Surely, there was never a fairer test of national quality than this. In the light of these circumstances, the thoughtful observer of Russian-American relations will find no cause for complaint in the Kremlin's challenge to American society. He will rather experience a certain gratitude to a Providence which, by providing the American people with this implacable challenge, has made their entire security as a nation dependent on their pulling themselves together and accepting the responsibilities of moral and political leadership that history plainly intended them to bear.
"Concerning the Slogans of the United States of Europe," August 1915. Official Soviet edition of Lenin's works
Here and elsewhere in this paper "Socialism refers to Marxist or Leninst Communism, not to liberal Socialism of the Second International variety. Atomic Weapons and American Policy
IT IS possible that in the large light of history, if indeed there is to be history, the atomic bomb will appear not very different than in the bright light of the first atomic explosion. Partly because of the mood of the time, partly because of a very clear prevision of what the technical developments would be, we had the impression that this might mark, not merely the end of a great and terrible war, but the end of such wars for mankind.
Two years later Colonel Stimson was to write in Foreign Affairs, "The riven atom, uncontrolled, can be only a growing menace to us all. . . ." In the same paragraph he wrote, "Lasting peace and freedom cannot be achieved until the world finds a way toward the necessary government of the whole." Earlier, shortly after the war's end, the Government of the United States had put forward some modest suggestions, responsive to these views, for dealing with the atom in a friendly, open, coöperative way. We need not argue as to whether these proposals were stillborn. They have been very dead a long, long time, to the surprise of only a few. Openness, friendliness and coöperation did not seem to be what the Soviet Government most prized on this earth.
It should not be beyond human ingenuity for us to devise less friendly proposals. We need not here detail the many reasons why they have not been put forward, why it has appeared irrelevant and grotesque to do so. These reasons range from the special difficulties of all negotiation with the Soviet Union, through the peculiar obstacles presented by the programmatic hostility and the institutionalized secretiveness of Communist countries, to what may be regarded as the more normal and familiar difficulties of devising instruments for the regulation of armaments in a world without prospect of political settlement.
Instead we came to grips, or began to come to grips, with the massive evidences of Soviet hostility and the growing evidences of Soviet power, and with the many almost inevitable, yet often tragic, elements of weakness, disharmony and disunity in what we have learned to call the Free World. In these preoccupations --one wholly negative, and one largely positive though very difficult--the atom, too, was given a simple rôle, and the policy followed was a fairly simple one. The rôle was to be one ingredient of a shield: a shield composed also in part of the great industrial power of America, and in part of the military and, even more, the political weaknesses of the Soviet Union. The rule for the atom was: "Let us keep ahead. Let us be sure that we are ahead of the enemy."
Today it would seem that, however necessary these considerations and these policies may be, they are no longer nearly sufficient. The reason for that one can see when one looks at the character of the arms race. The reason for that one can see when one compares the time-scale of atomic developments here and abroad with the probable time-scale of deep political changes in the world.
It is easy to say "let us look at the arms race." I must tell about it without communicating anything. I must reveal its nature without revealing anything; and this I propose to do.
There are three countries embarked on this race: The United Kingdom--and of that we need to note only that it is unfortunate that so talented and hard-pressed a country, so close to us in history and tradition, should be doing all this separately from us--ourselves, and the U.S.S.R.
As for the U.S.S.R., it has recently been said officially, and thus may be repeated with official sanction, that it has produced three atomic explosions, and is producing fissionable material in substantial quantities. I should like to present the evidence for this; I cannot. We do need one word of warning: this is evidence which could well be evidence of what the Government of the U.S.S.R. wants us to think rather than evidence of what is true. I may, however, record my own casual, perhaps too rough guess as to how the U.S.S.R. stands in relation to us in the field of atomic munitions. This does not refer at all to other elements of armament. I think that the U.S.S.R. is about four years behind us. And I think that the scale of its operations is not as big as ours was four years ago. It may be something like half as big as ours then was. This is consistent with the facts known to us. It has not been proven by them, by any means.
This sounds comfortably reassuring. It sounds as though the job of keeping ahead were being satisfactorily accomplished. But in order to assay what it means, we have to know something of what it is that they are four years behind, how fast the situation is likely to change, and what it means to be half as big as we are.
When Hiroshima was bombed there was a single plane. There was no air opposition. We flew straight in at medium height, at rather low speed, over the city of Hiroshima; we dropped one bomb with an energy release the equivalent of about fifteen thousand tons of TNT. It killed more than seventy thousand people and produced a comparable number of casualties; it largely destroyed a medium-sized city. That we had in mind. But we also had in mind, and we said, that it was not a question of one bomb. It would become a question of ten, and then one hundred, and then a thousand, and then ten thousand, and then maybe one hundred thousand. We knew--or, rather, we did not know, but we had very good reason to think--that it was not a question of ten thousand tons but of one hundred thousand and then a million tons, and then ten million tons and then maybe one hundred million tons.
We knew that these munitions could be adapted, not merely to a slow medium bomber operating where we had almost complete air supremacy, but to methods of delivery more modern, more flexible, harder to intercept, and more suitable for combat as it might be encountered today.
Today all of this is in train. It is my opinion that we should all know--not precisely, but quantitatively and, above all, authoritatively--where we stand in these matters; that we should all have a good idea of how rapidly the situation has changed, and of where we may stand, let us say, three, four, or five years ahead, which is about as far as one can see. I shall revert to the reasons why I think it important that we all know of these matters. I cannot write of them.
What I can say is this: I have never discussed these prospects candidly with any responsible group, whether scientists or statesmen, whether citizens or officers of the Government, with any group that could steadily look at the facts, that did not come away with a great sense of anxiety and somberness at what they saw. The very least we can say is that, looking ten years ahead, it is likely to be small comfort that the Soviet Union is four years behind us, and small comfort that they are only about half as big as we are. The very least we can conclude is that our twenty-thousandth bomb, useful as it may be in filling the vast munitions pipelines of a great war, will not in any deep strategic sense offset their two-thousandth. The very least we can say is that, as Mr. Gordon Dean has emphasized, there will come a time when, even from the narrowest technical point of view, the art of delivery and the art of defense will have a much higher military relevance than supremacy in the atomic munitions field itself.
There are other aspects of the arms race; though they may be well-known, they are worth mentioning. We developed the atomic bomb under the stimulus of the fear that the Germans might be at it. We deliberated at length on the use of the bomb against Japan; indeed it was Colonel Stimson who initiated and presided over these thorough deliberations. We decided that it should be used. We have greatly developed and greatly increased our atomic activities. This growth, though natural technically, is not inevitable. If the Congress had appropriated no money, it would not have occurred. We have made our decision to push our stockpiles and the power of our weapons. We have from the first maintained that we should be free to use these weapons; and it is generally known we plan to use them. It is also generally known that one ingredient of this plan is a rather rigid commitment to their use in a very massive, initial, unremitting strategic assault on the enemy.
This arms race has other characteristics. There has been relatively little done to secure our defense against the atom; and in the far more tragic and difficult problem of defending our Allies in Europe still less has been done. This does not promise to be an easy problem.
Atomic weapons are not just one element of an arsenal that we hope may deter the Soviet Government, or just one of the means we think of for putting an end to a war, once started. It is, perhaps, almost the only military measure that anyone has in mind to prevent, let us say, a great battle in Europe from being a continuing, agonizing, large-scale Korea. It is the only military instrument which brings the Soviet Union and the United States into contact--a most uncomfortable and dangerous contact-- with one another.
Atomic weapons, as everyone knows, have been incorporated in the plans for the defense of Europe. They have been developed for many tactical military uses, as in the anti-submarine campaign, the air campaign, and the ground campaign in the European theater; and these potential applications continue to ramify and multiply. Yet the Europeans are rather in ignorance what these weapons are, how many there may be, how they will be used and what they will do. It thus needs to be remarked, as we shall need to remark again, that for Europe the atomic weapon is both a much needed hope of effective defense and a terrible immediate peril, greater even than for this country.
These are some of the peculiarities of this arms race, marked for us by a very great rigidity of policy, and a terrifyingly rapid accumulation, probably on both sides, of a deadly munition. When we think of the terms in which we in this country tend to talk of the future, the somberness with which thoughtful men leave a discussion of the subject is not wholly ununderstandable. There are two things that everyone would like to see happen; but few people, if any, confidently believe that they will happen soon. One is a prompt, a happily prompt reform or collapse of the enemy. One is a regulation of armaments as part of a general political settlement--an acceptable, hopeful, honorable and humane settlement to which we could be a party.
There is nothing repugnant in these prospects; but they may not appear to be very likely in the near future. Most of us, and almost all Europeans, appear to regard the outbreak of war in this near future as a disaster. Thus the prevailing view is that we are probably faced with a long period of cold war in which conflict, tension and armaments are to be with us. The trouble then is just this: during this period the atomic clock ticks faster and faster. We may anticipate a state of affairs in which two Great Powers will each be in a position to put an end to the civilization and life of the other, though not without risking its own. We may be likened to two scorpions in a bottle, each capable of killing the other, but only at the risk of his own life.
This prospect does not tend to make for serenity; and the basic fact that needs to be communicated is that the time in which this will happen is short, compared to the time in which reasonable men may have some confidence in a reasonable amelioration or even alteration of the great political troubles of our time.
In this prospect, surely, we shall need all the help and wisdom and resourcefulness we can muster. This, in all probability, is a very tough fix. There are three things we need to remember, three things that are very sharp. It is perilous to forget any one of them. One is the hostility and the power of the Soviet. Another is the touch of weakness--the need for unity, the need for some stability, the need for armed strength on the part of our friends in the Free World. And the third is the increasing peril of the atom. The problem is straightforward, if not easy, if we forget the last. It is easy if we forget the first. It is hard if we remember all three. But they are all there.
We need the greatest attainable freedom of action. We need strength to be able to ask whether our plans for the use of the atom are, all things considered, right or wrong. We need the freedom of action necessary--and we do not have it today--to be able to negotiate, should an opportunity for that at some future time appear.
Much will be needed to bring us this freedom of action. Some of it we cannot write about, because it has not occurred to us. Some we cannot write about because it would not be proper for anything but official discussion. An example may be the question of whether, under what circumstances, in what manner, and with what purpose to communicate with the Soviet Government on this and related problems.
But there are three reforms which seem so obvious, so important, so sure to be salutary that I should like to discuss them briefly. One has to do with making available to ourselves, in this tough time, the inherent resources of a country like ours and a government like ours. These resources are not available today. The second has to do with making available the resources of a coalition of governments, bound together in an alliance, yet at the moment foreclosed from discussing one of the principal factors that affects the destiny of the alliance and of all its members. The third has to do with taking measures to put off, to moderate, to reduce the dangers of which we have spoken. I shall deal with each of these.
The first is candor--candor on the part of the officials of the United States Government to the officials, the representatives, the people of their country. We do not operate well when the important facts, the essential conditions, which limit and determine our choices are unknown. We do not operate well when they are known, in secrecy and in fear, only to a few men.
The general account of the atomic arms race that has been outlined here can, of course, be found in the public press, together with a great deal of detailed information, some true, and much largely false. This mass of published rumor, fact, press release and speculation could yield, upon analysis, a fairly solid core of truth; but as it stands, it is not the truth. The consequences of such ignorance may seem obvious; but we may recall two examples that illustrate well what they are.
It must be disturbing that an ex-President of the United States, who has been briefed on what we know about the Soviet atomic capability, can publicly call in doubt all the conclusions from the evidence. Perhaps this was primarily because it was all so secret that it could not be talked about, or thought about, or understood. It must be shocking when this doubt, so recently expressed, is compounded by two men, one of them a most distinguished scientist, who headed one of the great projects of the Manhattan District during the war, and one of them a brilliant officer, who was in over-all charge of the Manhattan District. These two men are not now employed by any agency of the Government concerned with these questions; therefore they did not have access to the evidence. Thus their advice is unavailing, their public counsel wrong.
A second example may illustrate further. A high officer of the Air Defense Command said--and this only a few months ago, in a most serious discussion of measures for the continental defense of the United States--that it was our policy to attempt to protect our striking force, but that it was not really our policy to attempt to protect this country, for that is so big a job that it would interfere with our retaliatory capabilities. Such follies can occur only when even the men who know the facts can find no one to talk to about them, when the facts are too secret for discussion, and thus for thought.
The political vitality of our country largely derives from two sources. One is the interplay, the conflict of opinion and debate, in many diverse and complex agencies, legislative and executive, which contribute to the making of policy. The other is a public opinion which is based on confidence that it knows the truth.
Today public opinion cannot exist in this field. No responsible person will hazard an opinion in a field where he believes that there is somebody else who knows the truth, and where he believes that he does not know it. It is true that there are and always will be, as long as we live in danger of war, secrets that it is important to keep secret, at least for an appropriate period, if not for all time; some of these, and important ones, are in the field of atomic energy. But knowledge of the characteristics and probable effects of our atomic weapons, of--in rough terms--the numbers available, and of the changes that are likely to occur within the next years, this is not among the things to be kept secret. Nor is our general estimate of where the enemy stands.
Many arguments have been advanced against making public this basic information. Some of these arguments had merit in times past. One is that we might be giving vital information to the enemy. My own view is that the enemy has this information. It is available to anyone who will trouble to make an intelligence analysis of what has been published. Private citizens do not do this; but we must expect that the enemy does. It is largely available by other means as well. It is also my view that it is good for the peace of the world if the enemy knows these basic facts--very good indeed, and very dangerous if he does not.
There is another source of worry--that public knowledge of the situation might induce in this country a mood of despair, or a too ready acceptance of what is lightheartedly called preventive war. I believe that until we have looked this tiger in the eye, we shall be in the worst of all possible dangers, which is that we may back into him. More generally, I do not think a country like ours can in any real sense survive if we are afraid of our people.
As a first step, but a great one, we need the courage and the wisdom to make public at least what, in all reason, the enemy must now know: to describe in rough but authoritative and quantitative terms what the atomic armaments race is. It is not enough to say, as our government so often has, that we have made "substantial progress." When the American people are responsibly informed, we may not have solved, but we shall have a new freedom to face, some of the tough problems that are before us.
There is also need for candor in our dealings with at least our major allies. The Japanese are exposed to atomic bombardment; and it may be very hard to develop adequate counter-measures. Space, that happy asset of the United States, is not an asset for Japan. It is not an asset for France. It is not an asset for England. There are in existence methods of delivery of atomic weapons which present an intractable problem of interception, and which are relevant for the small distances that characterize Europe. It will be some time at least before they are relevant for intercontinental delivery. These countries will one day feel a terrible pinch, when the U.S.S.R. chooses to remind them of what it can do, and do very easily--not without suffering, but in a way that the Europeans themselves can little deter or deflect.
There have been arguments for technical collaboration with the United Kingdom and Canada; these have often appeared persuasive. There have been arguments for military collaboration with the NATO governments, and with the responsible commanders involved. General Bradley and General Collins both have spoken of this need, partly in order to explain to our allies that an atomic bomb will not do all things--that it has certain capabilities but it is not the whole answer. This is surely a precondition for effective planning, and for the successful defense of Europe.
Yet there are much more general reasons. We and our allies are in this long struggle together. What we do will affect the destiny of Europe; what is done there will affect ours; and we cannot operate wisely if a large half of the problem we have in common is not discussed in common. This does not mean that we should tie our hands. It means that we should inform and consult. This could make a healthy and perhaps very great change in our relations with Europe.
It is not clear that the situation even in the Far East would be wholly unaffected. It is troublesome to read that a principal reason that we should not use atomic weapons in Korea is that our allies would not like it. We need not argue here either that it is right or that it is wrong to use them there. In either case, our decisions should rest on far firmer ground than that other governments, who know less than we about the matter, should hold a different view than ours. It would be proper that the Japanese and the British and the many other governments immediately involved have a notion of what the issues really are.
Once, clearly, the problem of proper candor at home is faced-- the problem of a more reasonable behavior toward our own people and our representatives and officials with regard to the atom--then the problem of dealing with our allies will be less troublesome. For it is pretty much the same information, the same rough set of facts, that both our people and our allies need to have and to understand.
The third point may seem even more obvious. I do not believe --though of course we cannot today be certain--that we can take measures for the defense of our people, our lives, our institutions, our cities, which will in any real sense be a permanent solution to the problem of the atom. But that is no reason for not doing a little better than we are now doing.
The current view, as is well known, is not very optimistic. Not long ago General Vandenberg estimated that we might, with luck, intercept 20 or 30 percent of an enemy attack. That is not very reassuring, when one looks at numbers and casualties and at what it takes to destroy the heart and life of our country. For some months now, a highly-qualified panel, under the chairmanship of Dr. Mervin Kelly, appointed by Secretary Lovett and reporting now to Secretary Wilson, has studied the complex technical problems of continental defense. There are many technical developments that have not yet been applied in this field, and that could well be helpful. They are natural but substantial developments in munitions, in aircraft and in missiles, and in procedures for obtaining and analyzing information. Above all, there is the challenging problem of the effective use of space; there is space between the Soviet Union and the United States. This panel, it would appear, has been oppressed and troubled by the same over-all oppression which any group always finds when it touches seriously any part of the problem of the atom. Yet there is no doubt that it will recommend sensible ways in which we can proceed to try to defend our lives and our country.
Such measures will inevitably have many diverse meanings. They will mean, first of all, some delay in the imminence of the threat. They will mean a disincentive--a defensive deterrent--to the Soviet Union. They will mean that the time when the Soviet Union can be confident of destroying the productive power of America will be somewhat further off--very much further off than if we did nothing. They will mean, even to our allies, who are much more exposed and probably cannot be well defended, that the continued existence of a real and strong America will be a solid certainty which should discourage the outbreak of war.
A more effective defense could even be of great relevance should the time come for serious discussion of the regulation of armaments. There will have been by then a vast accumulation of materials for atomic weapons, and a troublesome margin of uncertainty with regard to its accounting--very troublesome indeed if we still live with vestiges of the suspicion, hostility and secretiveness of the world of today. This will call for a very broad and robust regulation of armaments, in which existing forces and weapons are of a wholly different order than those required for the destruction of one great nation by another, in which steps of evasion will be either far too vast to conceal or far too small to have, in view of then existing measures of defense, a decisive strategic effect. Defense and regulation may thus be necessary complements. And here, too, all that we do effectively to contribute to our own immunity will be helpful in giving us some measure of an increased freedom of action.
These are three paths that we may take. None of them is a wholly new suggestion. They have, over the long years, been discussed; but they have not been acted on. In my opinion they have not, in any deep sense, been generally understood. We need to be clear that there will not be many great atomic wars for us, nor for our institutions. It is important that there not be one. We need to liberate our own great resources, to shape our destiny.
"The Challenge to Americans," by Henry L. Stimson. Foreign Affairs, October 1947. The Unsolved Problems of European Defense
The recent meeting of NATO defense and foreign ministers at Athens ended with the usual proclamations of Allied unity. A great deal was made of the United States commitment of five-and later more-Polaris submarines to NATO. Yet the significance of the meeting went far beyond this largely symbolic gesture. The Athens conference marked the point at which a reassessment of NATO strategy could no longer be avoided. It underlined the urgent need to resolve the debate of the past years about the relative role of nuclear and conventional forces, the relationship of deterrence to strategy and the control and use of nuclear weapons.
This debate was first given impetus when, shortly after the advent of the new Administration, the United States proposed that the conventional forces of NATO be strengthened-specifically, that they be brought up to the level of 30 divisions agreed upon in 1957. Our allies, in turn, inquired whether the United States was reducing its reliance on nuclear weapons, and whether our nuclear guarantee was being deprived of its credibility. We replied that the build-up of conventional forces did not imply a reduced reliance on what has been called the Deterrent. On the contrary, the strategic striking force was being expanded and made more invulnerable.1 The non- nuclear build-up, far from diminishing the credibility of our nuclear power, would actually enhance it.2 In short, the NATO policy being promulgated was not new, according to our official statements; we were simply asking our allies to live up to their previous commitment. Our goal was flexibility of response.
This curious dialogue, in which a change of emphasis in United States policy was defended in terms of traditional doctrines of NATO, in many ways only increased the uneasiness of our allies. There were a number of reasons why the NATO goals for conventional forces had never been met. An important one was the fact that in terms of the prevailing NATO strategy these forces did not make much sense.
That strategy had been developed during the period when the United States had strategic preponderance. For the greater part of the nuclear age we could win a general war whether we struck first or second. We could destroy the Soviet means of retaliation at minimum cost. This superiority enabled us not only to prevent an attack on the United States, but to protect our allies by what amounted to a unilateral American guarantee. The Soviet Union did possess superior conventional strength. But it could not set these forces in motion because such an action might have triggered our Strategic Air Command (SAC). It could not attack the United States at the same time as Europe-even after it became technically feasible-because, while this would have increased our losses, a Soviet defeat would nevertheless have been inevitable. Throughout its history, the security of NATO has depended essentially on the ability of the United States to destroy the Soviet retaliatory power-technically speaking, on our capacity to conduct a counterforce strategy.3
Any prudent planning for NATO in the 1960s must start from the assumption that the utility of a counterforce strategy for the defense of Europe is bound to decline. It is possible to accept the statements of our defense leaders that the United States is superior in strategic striking power and intends to remain so. But the strategic and political significance of this superiority is certain to diminish. For the immediate future-as long as the Soviet missile force remains relatively small-a counterforce strategy may remain technically feasible. This situation should be treated, however, as a temporary respite permitting an adjustment to inevitable realities, not as an excuse for continuing to depend on traditional policies.
For one thing, if a counterforce strategy is to retain any chance of success, the location of the targets must be known in advance. This is particularly true in the case of missiles, which cannot search for their objectives. Given the nature of Soviet society and the vastness of Soviet territory, our knowledge of Soviet launching sites is likely to be fragmentary. Moreover, as missile systems become more sophisticated, missiles will be dispersed-at least assuming reasonable prudence on the part of the opponent-thus preventing one attacking missile from destroying more than one on the ground. Also, many missiles will be protected in hardened underground sites. These two factors will greatly magnify the force required for a successful counterforce strike. Other missiles will be mobile or based at sea, creating the need for coördinating many different forms of attack.
The constantly growing complexity of staging a missile attack is bound to reduce the political utility of a counterforce strategy-perhaps even faster than is warranted by purely military considerations. It will grow ever more difficult to convince political leaders that they should rely on a strategy based on intelligence which is fragmentary, using large numbers of weapons for which there is no operational experience in wartime, and in the face of risks which are certain to mount dramatically. Even if the percentage of the opposing strategic force which we are able to destroy remains constant throughout the 1960s-an unwarrantedly optimistic assumption-the absolute number which is left will rise. Thus the Soviet capability to devastate NATO countries in a counterblow will inevitably increase.
To pretend that these factors will not reduce any President's readiness to initiate general war would be sheer irresponsibility on our part and a convenient delusion for some of our allies. Even our best efforts will not prevent the credibility of a counterforce strategy from declining in the years ahead. It will grow ever more difficult to convince the Soviets that such a capability exists or that we are prepared to run the risks it involves. If NATO does not change its strategy as the missile age develops, increasingly direct Soviet challenges will be likely.
There are, of course, those who argue that as long as the nuclear threat is sufficiently grave our hand will never be called. But when the stake is the lives of tens of millions, statesmen cannot gamble on such psychological assessments. It is simply irresponsible to base the future of freedom on the gamble that a threat one is not-or should not be-prepared to implement will never be challenged. And if the threat is implemented except as a last resort, NATO strategy would have brought on a needless catastrophe. Wherever possible, NATO should possess the capability to thwart Communist pressures by means appropriate to the provocation, shifting to the other side the responsibility for escalation.
This is not a peculiarly American problem. The reduced utility of a counterforce strategy for the defense of Europe is not the result of a desire by the United States to become a sanctuary while turning the territory of its allies into a battleground-as is sometimes alleged in Europe. Soviet strategic weapons deployed against Europe far exceed in number those aimed at the United States. A SAC counterforce strike that destroyed the same percentage of both categories of weapons would leave a far greater number directed against our allies than against us. And the European national strategic forces would not alter this situation significantly.
A general war is certain to be more destructive to our European allies than to the United States. Their inhibitions, as they confront a strategy of pure devastation, cannot be less than ours. If they understand their own interests, they should demand, rather than resist, alternatives to the present strategy for the defense of Europe.
II. CONVENTIONAL WEAPONS AND TRADITIONAL DOCTRINE
Throughout its history NATO has suffered from the difficulty that its strategic doctrine has followed, rather than guided, the creation of its forces. Decisions have been made to meet specific crises, or on the basis of fiscal considerations, or with an eye toward what the traffic would bear politically. Too frequently, more thought has been given to expedients for getting through another NATO conference than to the shape of NATO over a decade.
But whatever the origin of particular force levels, once established they have developed a life of their own. The 30-division goal of 1957 did not make much sense when first advanced-except as an estimate of what our allies might reasonably be expected to contribute. However, that goal furnished a convenient target for the Kennedy Administration when it decided that conventional forces should be increased. As a result, goals which originally were not met because, in terms of traditional NATO doctrine, they were too high may now not be met because they are too low for sustained local defense.
Actually, and fortunately, the size of the military establishment on the Continent-some 22 divisions when the Administration took office-has always been largely inconsistent with NATO strategic theory. Had NATO carried out the implications of the prevalent strategic doctrine, the sole function of the shield forces-the forces deployed on the Continent-would have been to determine that a general Soviet advance had in fact begun. At that point, SAC would have launched its counterforce strike.
It was no accident that the 30 divisions called for in 1957 were never provided. For it did not require 30 divisions to establish that something more than a border incursion was taking place. To be sure, in order to rationalize NATO force goals various other functions were conceived- expressed in such terms as "forward strategy" and "broken-back warfare"-but they were equally inconsistent with basic NATO strategy. In case of war, the crucial factor would not be the units on the ground in Europe, but the effectiveness of SAC. Only if SAC were successful could the Soviet advance be stopped, and then the precise number of divisions would not make much difference.
The size of the military establishment in Europe reflected psychological and not strategic considerations. Our allies have always been uneasy about placing the major responsibility for their defense on an ally 3,000 miles away and with a recent tradition of isolationism. No moral commitment could entirely remove their fear that we might not implement our guarantee. They therefore sought to eliminate or at least to restrict our freedom of decision by committing us to maintain substantial ground forces on the Continent. We could not be expected to do this, however, unless our allies were prepared to make an effort of their own.
Thus there grew up a substantial military establishment on the Continent, even though prevailing NATO doctrine could assign no particular function to it. Current disputes within NATO are largely incomprehensible unless we realize that in the eyes of our allies the shield forces have always been considered a price that had to be paid for the United States nuclear guarantee, a form of mechanical trigger for our strategic forces. Our allies have kept their contribution at a level high enough to induce us to maintain our military establishment on the Continent, but not so large as to provide a real alternative to reliance on a counterforce strategy.
Another consequence of NATO doctrine has been that it has provided a maximum incentive for the creation of national nuclear retaliatory forces. Our doctrine had defined these as the ultimately decisive weapons. In order to reduce dependence on the United States, to gain influence over our actions and for reason of prestige, first Great Britain and then France embarked on the immensely costly and difficult course of building up nuclear strategic striking power.
This was the situation when the present Administration took office. Our strategic doctrine had defined any war in which United States troops engaged Soviet or Chinese Communist forces as general war. This accounted not only for the halfhearted build-up of the shield forces on the Continent, but also for the paucity of strategic reserves in the United States. In any direct confrontation with the major Communist powers, the United States had little choice between acquiescing or launching a counterforce strike.
Since taking office, the Administration has attempted to remedy this situation. However, it has complicated its task by not facing squarely what kind of flexibility it is aiming for. A true capability for "flexible response" would enable us to meet a Soviet challenge at whatever level of violence it might be presented. However, we have justified the build-up of conventional forces in a more technical sense, as providing a capability for a last warning before implementing a counterforce strategy. This argument has tended to defeat its objectives as far as Europe is concerned. An increase in our strategic reserve in the United States by three or four divisions does enhance the credibility of the nuclear deterrent for the defense of, say, Southeast Asia, by giving us the physical means to intervene.
In Europe, however, where we already are physically committed, a few additional divisions take on a different significance. There, our frequent assertions that an increase in the shield forces was designed to make a counterforce strike more likely have been bound to appear as a subterfuge for our reluctance to face nuclear war. The need for flexibility of response in Europe cannot be used to justify a counterforce strategy but to reduce our reliance on it. Until this is openly avowed, the difference between 22 divisions and 30 will seem unimportant. And if the implications of the impending invulnerability of retaliatory forces are squarely faced, the goals of the build-up will have to be redefined.
These considerations are well illustrated by the concepts which we have used to justify the strengthening of the shield forces and by the concerns these have aroused. As propounded by General Norstad and reaffirmed by President Kennedy, the shield forces-presumably the conventional ones, though this has not been made explicit-should be strong enough to enforce a "pause" in military operations in order to permit the Soviets to "appreciate the wider risks involved." The shield forces, that is, are supposed to define a "threshold" below which nuclear weapons would not have to be used.
But is it really true that at the end of a short period of conventional operations the Soviets would confront more clearly the wider risks of nuclear war? If a full-scale conventional attack were to occur, the Soviets presumably would have discounted the threat of our nuclear retaliation. Why should this threat grow more credible during conventional operations, each day of which would shift the local balance against us? Why should our bargaining position be better at the end of the period of 30 days-when our forces would have presumably been decimated-than at the beginning? What if at that point the Soviets offered to negotiate after having gained possession of their prize? If nuclear war was too risky at the start of the conflict, why should it not be even more risky when the local issue has in effect already been decided against us and when the devastation caused by a nuclear exchange may make the local situation seem irrelevant?
If, on the other hand, it is argued that the Soviets will never dare to defeat our shield forces lest this trigger a nuclear exchange, what have we gained by increasing the number of our divisions from 22 to 30? In other words, as long as a nuclear strike remains the chief weapon in our arsenal, the increase in conventional forces in Europe now projected may turn out to be too little or too much: too little for a real local defense, and too much for a counterforce strategy to remain credible.
The same difficulty applies to the concept of a "threshold." This has been defined by the Deputy Secretary of Defense, Roswell Gilpatric, as follows: "The current doctrine is that if NATO forces were about to be overwhelmed by non-nuclear attacks from the bloc countries, NATO would make use of nuclear arms."4 This raises two questions: (1) Who determines whether the NATO conventional forces are being overwhelmed? (2) Assuming this determination is made, how are nuclear weapons then to be used?
With respect to the first question, one can foresee situations in which NATO forces are simply pushed back without being overwhelmed. Will this then be the threshold for nuclear war? What if the Soviets mass clearly overwhelming power in Eastern Europe, but have not yet launched an attack? Or it could be that in an otherwise successful defense individual units of, say, division size would suffer setbacks. Given the dispersal of nuclear weapons in Europe to divisional level and below, it may be that the location of our nuclear stockpiles and delivery vehicles will decide the question of using nuclear weapons for us. This situation may well contribute to deterrence. It is not, however, consistent with an attempt to conduct sustained conventional operations.
Assuming, however, that it is possible to make a clear determination that NATO's conventional forces are being overwhelmed, the question arises how and what nuclear forces are to be used. If we assume that both sides have tactical nuclear weapons in adequate numbers and sizes, it is far from clear that the employment of these weapons would favor the defense at that stage of a battle. With the conventional defense overwhelmed, there would presumably be few shield forces left to stem the tide, even if the attacking units were reduced by nuclear power. After a breakthrough has been achieved, battlefield employment of nuclear weapons may well favor the offense, whose units can by then be dispersed, while the defense has to move its units into predictable areas. In short, if nuclear weapons are to be used tactically at all, it is likely that the optimum, perhaps the only, appropriate moment is early in military operations, or at least while the shield forces are reasonably intact and Soviet reserve forces have not yet appeared on the battlefield.
The ability to reverse a defeat-or an imminent defeat-of the conventional forces would thus depend on the efficacy of a counterforce first strike, and then we are back where we started. If we have a reliable counterforce capability, it will prove as useful when 22 divisions are defeated as when 30 are. If we do not have such a capability, 30 divisions will be insufficient.
Similar considerations bear on the troublesome question of "forward strategy" by which is meant the ability to put up a defense along the Iron Curtain and in particular to protect cities close to that dividing line. It has often been argued that this could be accomplished by a build-up to 30 divisions. If the notion is to prevent a limited coup de main, the argument is valid. If, however, the expectation is to hold the central front along the Iron Curtain in case of a major assault, it is extremely dangerous. For the most perilous deployment of conventional forces is close to the main centers of enemy strength, all the more so as the defense is necessarily spread out, while the aggressor can concentrate. Most conventional battles have been decided not by over-all, but by local superiority-by the ability to concentrate forces at a critical point and then to defeat the enemy in detail. An attempt to hold a line along the Iron Curtain with 30 divisions would repeat the mistake of the Allies in 1940 when they were surrounded in the Low Countries.
Of course, 30 divisions are a more powerful force than 22. However, their major utility is in terms of tasks which we have not defined. Shield forces of this size will greatly increase the capability of NATO to defend such allies as Greece and Turkey against satellite attacks. They will make it easier to respond to pressures against European countries which are not part of NATO, such as Austria or Jugoslavia. They may be especially necessary if a tactical nuclear defense of the central front is envisaged- though this goal seems to have been explicitly excluded.5
As for the central front, 30 divisions will improve NATO's capability to resist minor incursions. And they will enable NATO to offer a somewhat more prolonged resistance to full-scale attack. However, the definition of a minor incursion is crucial. A Soviet coup de main along the central front with, say, five divisions can be resisted by 22 divisions, if not quite as flexibly. A larger Soviet attack would be tantamount to full-scale war on the central front. It is against all reason to suppose that the difference between a Soviet decision to launch a major attack or a minor incursion depends on whether they face 22 divisions or 30. Since the risks of an attack on some 20 divisions would not be much lower than those of a major assault, the Soviet Union would be likely to use whatever force was required to overwhelm the central front as long as that front is inadequately held. In other words, if the NATO conventional build-up is to be anything other than a slight variation of traditional strategy, a basic reassessment of NATO doctrine and force levels is necessary.
III. THE CHOICES FOR LOCAL DEFENSE
NATO will have to face much more explicitly than heretofore the necessity of developing forces for a local defense of Europe. Those Europeans who believe that an emphasis on local defense reduces the credibility of the deterrent are confusing cause and effect. The absence of alternatives to a counterforce strategic strike is certain to create a weakness that invites attack. The creation of these alternatives will demand a greater effort than the relatively minor modifications in doctrine and force levels envisaged thus far.
Two general options are available. The first would seek to strengthen the shield forces and ready reserves so that they could hold, not for 30 days, but long enough for the West's superior potential to make itself felt. The objective of the conventional forces would be to achieve a local stalemate equivalent to the stalemate in strategic forces which made the build-up necessary. These forces would have to be trained in nuclear warfare and they would have to be backed up by a nuclear arsenal to guard against the introduction of nuclear weapons by the Soviet Union. However, while the tactical use of nuclear weapons would not be ruled out, NATO, if it adopted this course, would in effect attempt to match Soviet power at whatever level it is presented, thus completing the spectrum of deterrence. If this option is chosen, the goal of 30 divisions will have to be substantially increased and a reserve structure will have to be created almost from scratch.
This course is not beyond the capabilities of NATO. Western Europe alone is superior to the U.S.S.R. in industrial capacity and even in manpower, and the North Atlantic Community as a whole should find it much easier than the Soviet bloc to maintain a full spectrum of deterrent power. The frequently heard argument that NATO must retain its present strategy because its people are not prepared to make the necessary sacrifices for an effective local defense is surely inconsistent with the hope of maintaining the credibility of a counterforce first strike. Why should an aggressor believe that people and leaders who are not prepared to make the comparatively small sacrifices needed to assure a conventional local defense would be willing to face the enormous devastation implied by general nuclear war?
At the same time, a decision to rely on a largely conventional defense is not without its risks. Unless we act with great delicacy and subtlety, it could give rise to the notion that the West considers any kind of nuclear war unthinkable regardless of provocation. In such conditions, the Soviets could make NATO's conventional build-up irrelevant by threatening to use nuclear weapons against it. Moreover, despite the considerations outlined above, it may be that no Western government, including that of the United States, is willing to make the effort which a heavy emphasis on conventional defense would entail. Failure to meet these force levels would then create a sense of impotence and invite Soviet pressure. Nothing could be more dangerous than to change the doctrine without acquiring the necessary forces to sustain it.
If NATO is not willing to make the effort required for a conventional defense, its other option would be to rely more heavily on tactical nuclear weapons. A tactical nuclear war does not require less manpower at the beginning than a conventional war, and it may even require more. But it is more likely to be fought by ready forces and the use of tactical nuclear weapons should make it possible to prevent massive reinforcement of the battle area.
In this strategy, the conventional forces should be at least strong enough to stop the Soviet forces deployed in Germany and Eastern Europe. This would prevent a sudden coup de main. A decisive Soviet attack would require an advance build-up of troops. If the West's conventional forces were powerful enough so that very considerable Soviet reinforcements were required, many targets for tactical weapons would be presented. The purpose of the conventional forces would be to create optimum conditions for the use of tactical nuclear weapons. Deterrence would be achieved not by protecting against every contingency, but by confronting the Soviets with the prospect of a conflict with incalculable consequences.
The difference between this option and current strategy is threefold: (a) Major reliance would be placed on stopping a Soviet attack without resorting to a counterforce strike, (b) Nuclear weapons would be used not after a pause and when NATO's conventional forces were on the verge of being overwhelmed. Rather, they would be employed early in the operation, as soon as it was clear that a massive Soviet attack was under way. (c) The primary use of nuclear weapons would be in the battle area.6 The most convincing argument on behalf of the 30 division goal is in terms of a tactical nuclear, not a conventional, defense.
At the same time, reliance on tactical nuclear defense is plainly the more uncertain and risky course, even if it is the more attainable. It would require the West to initiate the use of nuclear weapons early in the operations. If NATO hesitated, the Soviets might wear down the defending forces to a point where even the introduction of tactical nuclear weapons could no longer restore the situation.
This strategy would thus enable the Soviets to pose challenges ambiguously and force NATO into an unfavorable war of attrition. The difficulty is compounded by the failure of the West to devise a clear doctrine for tactical nuclear war or to develop forces clearly designed for it. For a variety of reasons, the possibility of limiting a nuclear conflict has been rejected and all nuclear weapons have been stigmatized without distinction as to kind. If these trends continue, it is likely that a strategy relying on the use of even tactical nuclear weapons may involve inhibitions similar to those in a counterforce strategy, bringing about almost equivalent opportunities for Soviet blackmail.
Whatever the course selected, a number of considerations must be kept in mind. First, the choice between conventional and nuclear war is no longer entirely up to the West. Whatever its preferences, NATO has to prepare for the introduction of nuclear weapons by the opponent. Any war will be nuclear, whether or not nuclear weapons are used, in the sense that deployment-even of conventional forces-will have to take place against the backdrop of tactical nuclear weapons, and the risk of escalation, even under conditions of mutual invulnerability, can never be wholly removed.
Second, in deciding on the strength of forces required, there is the danger of too mechanical an approach. Too often, the impression has been created that a sustained conventional defense is within reach simply by assuming that the offense requires a superiority of about 3:1. This assumption, which is strangely reminiscent of certain French theories prior to World War II, cannot, even if valid, be applied so literally. The attacker does not require a three-to-one superiority all along the front. He can win by massing troops suddenly at the decisive point and overwhelming it. In conventional war, victories have very often been won when forces were roughly equal. (Germany, after all, achieved its victories in World War II with inferior forces.)7
A shift of emphasis to local defense will require NATO to address itself with determination to three other problems: the standardization of weapons, the creation of special forces for conventional war and a reconsideration of nuclear deployment. At present, NATO is equipped with several different types of tanks, artillery and small arms. Though the NATO command is integrated, each national force has its own weapons. In case of conflict, the logistics problem may prove insuperable. It is likely that each national force in the integrated command represents a separate capability in terms of both "pause" and "threshold."
Also, with present weapons a conventional battle of any duration may cause insupportable attrition of the nuclear forces. This is a particular difficulty for the Air Force. The equipment required to overcome modern air defense and to make deep penetrations of hostile territory has put a premium on complex, fast aircraft. The cost of these planes almost impels the use of nuclear weapons for economical operation. Moreover, the number of combat aircraft available today is dramatically lower than it was in World War II. In a prolonged conventional war, a substantial part of the aircraft needed for a nuclear back-up might be lost. If the conventional build-up is to be effective, NATO requires the augmentation of its tactical air forces and the development of cheap, simple planes for ground support.
This raises directly the issue of nuclear deployment and control. Nuclear weapons in Europe are now deployed so far forward that any local reverse will create enormous pressures to use them. At the same time, they are so dispersed that while the President undoubtedly controls the decision to fire, discriminating control after the decision to release them will be extremely difficult. This uneasy situation is aggravated by the fact that the term "tactical" in current usage includes any weapons not assigned to the Strategic Air Command. While some of the weapons in Europe are designed for battlefield use, others have essentially retaliatory functions indistinguishable from those of SAC.
Thus, NATO's current deployment creates a built-in pressure toward escalation, not only toward nuclear war but, once that threshold is crossed, toward its most destructive form. Whatever the level of the conventional build-up, a reassessment of the deployment and concept underlying the use of nuclear weapons is essential. Thus NATO has taken only the first tentative steps toward the reappraisal of its strategy. It has somewhat increased the number of its divisions and improved their equipment. But a serious commitment to local defense requires much more drastic efforts.Unless the ambiguities described here are resolved, our actions may be misunderstood by the Soviet Union. Within NATO, it will prove difficult to assert effective political control of military planning. Half-measures may cause NATO to combine the disadvantages of every available option.
IV. NATO AND TACTICAL NUCLEAR WEAPONS
The present deployment of NATO's nuclear capability represents an anomaly in terms of current NATO doctrine. Nuclear weapons and delivery systems for tactical use have been placed in Europe in considerable numbers. Yet Deputy Secretary of Defense Gilpatric has rejected the notion of tactical nuclear war: "I, for one, have never believed in a so-called limited nuclear war. I just don't know how you build a limit into it once you start using any kind of a nuclear bang."8 And this view seems to have been reinforced by Secretary McNamara at the NATO ministerial meeting in Athens.9
At the same time, Secretary McNamara has insisted that in case of general war our strategic forces are alone sufficient to perform any nuclear mission: "There is no question but today our strategic retaliatory forces of bombers, missiles and Polaris are fully capable of destroying Soviet targets, even after absorbing an initial nuclear surprise attack. Allowing for losses from an initial enemy attack we calculate that our forces would destroy virtually all Soviet targets without any help from deployed tactical air units or carrier task forces which, of course, have the capability of attacking these targets with nuclear weapons."10
In these terms, the nuclear establishment on the Continent is both dangerous and useless. It is dangerous because it may make inevitable the limited nuclear war both Mr. McNamara and Mr. Gilpatric have declared is certain to escalate. And it is useless because it will merely duplicate attacks on targets already covered by our strategic forces.
The validity of the statements of our highest defense officials depends, of course, on the assumptions one makes about the central problem before NATO, the efficacy of a counterforce strategy. If the opposing strategic forces are extremely vulnerable, any use of nuclear weapons is likely to escalate. On that hypothesis, however, a substantial conventional build-up would be unnecessary just as the nuclear establishment on the Continent would be superfluous. If, as is much more likely, the invulnerability of the opposing retaliatory forces increases, the controlled use of nuclear weapons takes on a different significance.
The President has spoken of the need for alternatives between surrender and general nuclear war. To provide these, a capability for tactical nuclear operations would seem to be essential. Indeed, it is the most useful- perhaps the only meaningful-role for the nuclear weapons based on the Continent.
There are those who argue that the limited employment of nuclear weapons, if judged useful, can be left to the strategic forces. According to this line of reasoning, nuclear war, even if limited, would bring about conditions so confused and fraught with peril that the local situation would be relatively unimportant. This school of thought, therefore, advocates that when the conventional battle seems to be getting out of hand, nuclear weapons be used "demonstratively," as a "shot across the bow."
But what does one hope to demonstrate? Two methods of employing the strategic forces are available: a limited attack on the opposing strategic force or a "punitive" attack on the aggressor's non-military targets. The usefulness of either method is open to serious doubt.
If the opposing strategic force is vulnerable, and if our limited attack is effective, the Soviet response may be a counterblow directed against our cities while the U.S.S.R. still has some strategic weapons remaining. If the opposing retaliatory force is relatively invulnerable, the result may be a tit-for-tat. In that case, the issue may well depend on the outcome of the battle on the central front. In almost any foreseeable situation, an all-out counterforce blow may be less risky than a limited one.
If nuclear weapons are used "punitively," the outcome is again likely to depend on the local situation. After Soviet forces have reached the Rhine, for example, the destruction of Kiev followed by a similar destruction in the West may submerge all other considerations in the desire to end the spiral toward ever greater devastation. The ensuing confusion and panic may well enable the Soviets to consolidate their gains.
The most effective method for employing nuclear weapons in a limited manner appears to be their tactical use to stop a battle and prevent a breakthrough. In the best of circumstances, the confusion attendant on any use of nuclear weapons will be considerable. It will be compounded by every country's lack of experience with them. The use of nuclear weapons to prevent a significant territorial advance by the attacker would have the virtue of observing well-defined geographic limitations. Of all conceivable limitations, this is the easiest to understand and to concert. If a standstill in military operations can be forced, the major objective of the defense will be achieved.
Heretofore, consideration of this mission has been frustrated by a variety of groups: by disciples of traditional air theory who are convinced that any limited employment of nuclear weapons is certain to produce an inconclusive outcome; by pacifists eager to polarize our options between the most extreme alternatives; by advocates of more limited disarmament schemes who want to leave the door open for such measures as a nuclear-free zone in Europe. The lack of a concept and capability for tactical nuclear war-conceived as control of the battlefield-is one of the greatest gaps in the present military posture of the United States as well as of NATO. It should be remedied as part of any reassessment of NATO strategy. Strategic weapons cannot perform this role. They lack the accuracy; they are too powerful; and their attrition in tactical operations would be too great.
A new approach to the nuclear establishment on the Continent should address itself systematically to the role of nuclear weapons in stabilizing a battle front. This is especially required if NATO cannot raise sufficient conventional forces to resist a massive attack, but it is needed, in any case, so that we may know how to deal with nuclear weapons if they are introduced by the Soviets against NATO forces. NATO should not simply seek to replace existing weapons with more modern versions designed for similar missions-such as replacing aircraft with missiles. Rather an effort should be made to reassess the missions first and develop weapons appropriate to the new concept afterwards. The term "tactical use" should be much more rigorously defined than it has been in the past. In current thinking, a tactical nuclear war is distinguishable from a general nuclear war primarily by its geographic limitation-a consideration which can be of no interest to the potential victim. All targets and the weapons appropriate for them will have to be rigorously restudied.
Any tactical employment of nuclear weapons requires discriminating control and careful advance planning. Neither objective is likely to be attained as long as nuclear weapons are such an integral part of every major military unit. In order both to make the conventional build-up effective and to permit a flexible use of nuclear weapons, the atomic arsenal on the Continent should be grouped into a separate command. If a NATO nuclear force is thought necessary, the control of tactical operations would appear to be the most sensible focus for it.11
It is easy to jibe at the "Marquis of Queensbury" rules which limited nuclear war is often said to require. Many argue that a limited nuclear war will automatically escalate because the losing side will always invest more resources to restore the situation. Thus victory is said to be impossible. However, those who ridicule the concept of tactical nuclear war should explain what alternative they propose if, at whatever level of conventional build-up, the Soviets introduce nuclear weapons against our shield forces. If we wish to avoid surrender or a general nuclear war, the tactical use of nuclear weapons may be our only possibility for avoiding defeat. The worst that could happen if nuclear weapons are used tactically is what is certain to happen in case a counterforce strategy is carried out.
At the same time, if it is true that in tactical nuclear war victory is impossible, then deterrence would be enhanced, for aggression could have no purpose. The statement is, however, only partially correct. If the shield forces disintegrate, it may come about that no amount of additional violence can restore the situation. Effective employment of tactical nuclear weapons depends, therefore, on the strength of the shield forces.
V. NATO AND THE CONTROL OF NUCLEAR WEAPONS
Whatever strategy is adopted, NATO will confront the issue of the control of nuclear weapons. For nearly two years, this difficult issue has been the subject of consultation and dispute. France has attempted to build up its own retaliatory force, following a path long since trodden by Great Britain. The Federal Republic of Germany, in the latest formulation of its Defense Minister, has asked for information about the nuclear weapon stockpiles in Germany, for a guarantee that these will not be withdrawn without the consent of NATO, and for a degree of unspecified joint control over weapons fired from German soil.12 The French effort is designed to reduce reliance on the United States' retaliatory force; but the German proposal bears primarily on the issue of tactical nuclear war, for the nuclear weapons on German territory are neither designed nor intended for a retaliatory strategy. Other NATO allies have speculated about some form of joint control designed less to contribute to an affirmative decision to employ nuclear weapons than to provide a veto over their use.
Our own thinking has suffered from the attempt to combine several incompatible courses of action: we would like to head off the multiplication of national nuclear establishments and we are stressing the increased importance of conventional forces; but we would also like to retain the determining voice in the nuclear policy of the alliance. It is, however, against all reason to expect our European allies to integrate their conventional forces in a joint command and to place increased reliance on a conventional defense, while one partner reserves for itself a monopoly on the means of responding to the Soviet nuclear threat and freedom of action in employing nuclear weapons.
From this point of view, the French national effort is not as senseless as is often made out. It is easy enough to demonstrate that national nuclear forces in Europe are ineffective because they cannot withstand a determined surprise attack and to use them independently against the Soviet Union would be to commit suicide. However, the key question is whether these forces are intended to be used separately. Could the Soviet Union ever conduct a surprise attack against the strategic forces of Great Britain or France without running an unacceptable risk of a counterblow from the United States or from the other European ally, temporarily spared? Alternatively, if the strategic forces of one of our European allies were to attack the U.S.S.R. without our consent or perhaps against our wishes, it is of course possible to say petulantly that we would then leave our ally to his fate. However, in the real world, such a course would be extremely unlikely. It is not only that the Soviets might retaliate against us in any case. More important, to "punish" a recalcitrant ally by leaving him at the mercy of a Soviet counterblow would be scarcely less serious for us than for the offender.
If we are honest with ourselves, we will have to admit that one of our objections to the spread of national nuclear forces within NATO is that we do not wish an ally to be in a position to force us into nuclear war. For this very reason, independent national nuclear forces, whatever their military effectiveness, will have the practical consequence of impelling the coördination of policies which President de Gaulle first proposed in his scheme for a Directorate. To be sure, President de Gaulle undoubtedly has other goals in mind as well. The question before NATO, nevertheless, is whether coördination can be achieved without an expensive and wasteful duplication of effort.
Several schemes have been advanced. In May 1961, President Kennedy formally offered to "commit to NATO . . . five-and subsequently still more-Polaris atomic submarines . . . subject to any agreed NATO guidelines on their control and use."13 This pledge was fulfilled by Secretary McNamara at the Athens ministerial meeting when he announced that five Polaris submarines had already been committed to NATO, with more to come.14 Also the President has expressed a willingness to consider "a NATO seaborne force, which would be truly multilateral in ownership and control...."15 And Secretary Rusk has reaffirmed our willingness to participate in consultations to this end. 16
When we assess these proposals and undertakings, however, it is important that their nature be clearly understood. Assigning Polaris submarines to NATO is an important symbol of America's commitment. It is not a device for effective joint control of nuclear weapons. To present it as such only invites confusion.
For what precisely does this commitment to NATO entail? As announced, the submarines remain under exclusive United States control. Does this then mean that there is a stronger obligation to employ the NATO-assigned nuclear forces in the defense of Europe than to employ SAC? The danger of creating an impression that there are degrees of our nuclear commitment to NATO must be weighed against whatever reassurance our allies derive from the act of assigning these submarines to NATO. Then, what is one to make of the phrase in the NATO communiqué at Athens that the United States and Great Britain had given "firm assurances that their strategic forces will continue to provide defense against threats to the alliance beyond the capability of NATO-committed forces to deal with"?17 Does this imply that there are two thresholds in NATO strategy: one between conventional and nuclear war and another between the use of the strategic forces assigned to NATO and the rest of SAC in combination with the British Bomber Command? If so, this alone would spell the end of a counterforce strategy, for such a strategy is beyond the capability of a Polaris force assigned to NATO- present or prospective. If, however, all strategic forces are to act in concert, the wisdom of splitting them into two parts becomes doubtful.
It may be argued that the commitment of Polaris submarines to NATO subjects them to joint guidelines-as indicated in the President's Ottawa speech. But what is the significance of guidelines for a limited number of submarines? The only joint plans that would seem to make strategic sense would involve the total nuclear strength of the alliance, including SAC and the British Bomber Command.
But a more serious question is this: Are these guidelines to be understood as a contingency plan for the employment of nuclear weapons provided the governments concerned agree on using them? Or are they intended to commit NATO to use nuclear weapons in certain specified situations, giving the NATO Commander authority in advance, without further recourse to political directives? If the former is intended, a discussion of guidelines may create as many problems as it solves. A contingency plan of this nature not only includes; it also excludes. It determines not only when nuclear weapons will be used; it also defines when they will not be employed. To attempt to be too specific may thus magnify concerns; failure to be specific may defeat the objectives of some of our allies.
If, on the other hand, the guidelines are to be construed as a directive to the NATO Commander, they would involve an unparalleled abdication of what has been traditionally considered a key element of political control. In any event, the concern of some of our allies does not focus on the deficiency of our planning but-to put it bluntly-on the deficiency of our will. Some of our allies profess to doubt, not our capacity to use nuclear weapons, but our readiness to do so.
Can this concern be met by creating a NATO nuclear force, either through common ownership of a NATO Polaris force, or by devising a multilateral central mechanism for the Polaris submarines which we may assign to NATO? Making NATO into a "fourth nuclear power" is supposed to provide a mechanism for joint planning and a substitute for national nuclear establishments. In practice, it is unlikely to provide either.
A multilateral NATO nuclear force superimposed on the existing framework would bring about three, or perhaps even four, kinds of strategic forces within the alliance: a very large one under exclusive United States control (depending on how the NATO force comes into being, this may be split into two parts, one assigned to SAC, the other "committed" to NATO); two smaller national forces; and, finally, a medium-sized NATO force in which all the countries already possessing national forces would also participate. This plethora of forces will present formidable problems of command and control. As we have seen, it is also likely to signify to the Soviets that there are degrees of intensity of the American nuclear commitment to Europe. Why else would we devise such gradations of retaliatory power?
Moreover, what is to be the purpose of such a multilateral NATO force? Presumably, if our strategic forces already cover every Soviet target without help from forces deployed overseas, as Secretary McNamara has said, it will be superfluous militarily. A multilateral NATO force can no more conduct a counterforce strategy than a small NATO force controlled by the United States. And, whatever its mission, it must be coördinated with the much larger forces under our exclusive control.
If we create a multilateral NATO nuclear force that is militarily senseless, we will not be at the end, but at the beginning, of a process. Once the joint force has been established, it will be next to impossible to head off pressures to turn it into a militarily useful instrument both by increasing its size and by giving our allies a more determining voice than is now envisaged. This may be desirable, but we should at least embark on such a course with our eyes open.
If a NATO force as now conceived is militarily unnecessary, is it a political answer to Europe's concern about our nuclear predominance? This raises squarely the issue of the American veto in the nuclear policy of the alliance.
If we retain a veto, then two types of strategic forces will exist for the defense of NATO: a relatively small one, which would require our consent, together with that of whatever control mechanism NATO devised; and another large force-SAC-which would remain under our exclusive control, though perhaps split into two parts. Our European allies could prevent the use of the smaller force, but they could not compel it. With respect to the larger United States force-from the military point of view, the crucial one-our allies could neither prevent nor compel its use.
In case of disagreement with our European allies, one of two things would happen. If we wished to use nuclear weapons and the Europeans did not, we could still employ SAC (and probably even the Polaris submarines assigned to NATO). If they desired to use nuclear weapons and we did not, both the NATO nuclear force and SAC would be inactive. In other words, a NATO nuclear force with an American veto would multiply safety catches but not triggering devices. It can easily be demonstrated to be a shift of nuclear weapons from one American headquarters to another-as the French have already maintained.
If, on the other hand, we agreed to give up our veto, a major and perhaps insoluble constitutional issue would be raised in the United States. Can a group of foreign powers commit us to nuclear war without our consent? While the present situation is not very different, a great deal may depend on maintaining this nuance. The attempt to eliminate it may evoke a debate casting in doubt the extent of our nuclear commitment to NATO.
If we did give up our veto, would we be committing ourselves to the use of the NATO nuclear force only or to the use of our entire strategic force? In the former case, we would have again raised doubts whether the NATO force represented the limit of our commitment. In the latter case, a separate NATO force would be unnecessary, for we would then be obliged to use all our nuclear forces at the behest of whatever majority had the power of decision in the control body.
The discussion about the veto illustrates that the European concern about nuclear control is not as baseless as is often alleged. If disagreements with our European allies were inconceivable, we could agree to use our nuclear arsenal whenever a certain number of our allies requested it, according to plans mutually agreed upon in advance. Since we are unwilling to do this, it must be that we wish to reserve for ourselves the right to differ with the interpretation of our allies about the nature of vital interests or the means to defend them. Jealous as we are of our prerogatives, we should have understanding, even when we do not agree, of the attempts of some of our allies to achieve a greater voice in determining their fate.
In short, the only kind of NATO force that could meet some of the concerns that gave rise to the quest for multilateral control in the first place is one that involves a modification of the United States' veto. Apart from the domestic problems this would raise, a separate NATO force may not represent the most creative use of such a dramatic American commitment. A NATO force without our veto is a European Atomic Force. If we are prepared to give up our veto, it would be better either to create a control body for all strategic forces within NATO or to support an independent European Atomic Force which would allow us to avoid our constitutional dilemma.
Indeed, the only separate multilateral strategic force within NATO that makes sense would be a European Atomic Force merging the British and French nuclear forces. This would avoid our constitutional dilemma with respect to the veto. It would not create the same doubt about the extent of our nuclear commitment as would a NATO force. The fact that a European Atomic Force could not deal with the whole gamut of nuclear threats would make, not for the dissolution of NATO as is often alleged, but for a partnership in planning between Europe and the United States. The purpose of a European Atomic Force should be to deal with problems of special concern to Europeans. In particular, it could allay the fear that emphasis on local defense would enable the Soviet Union to devastate Europe while it spared the United States. Our support for a European Force would remove the impression that we are striving to keep Europe in a state of dependence with respect to nuclear matters. Such a force is likely to be the result of European integration and could become a device for fostering it.
However, it is important to recognize that at this time neither the United States not Great Britain nor France seems ready to adopt such a course, and it must not be allowed to serve as an excuse for avoiding the issues which rend the alliance. Also, we must take care not to confuse palliatives with remedies and symbolism with reality. Assignment of nuclear submarines to NATO is a token of our commitment; it does not of itself change the existing situation. To be sure, it is highly desirable that our allies have more information about the targeting and planned employment of our nuclear forces. The exchange of information agreed to at the Athens NATO meeting is an important step. It deals, however, with only one horn of the dilemma. The other concerns the issue of the United States veto and the French effort to achieve a nuclear capability of its own.
Indeed, the greatest single obstacle to a reassessment of NATO strategy is the Franco-American difference in nuclear matters. Of course, our skittishness about the veto and our refusal even to reply to President de Gaulle's suggestion for a political Directorate at least partly explains, even if it does not justify, France's lone hand in the nuclear field. In any case, irritation at de Gaulle's tactics should not obscure the fact that, as Bismarck once said, policy is the art of the possible, the science of the relative. Our assessment of the military significance of an independent French nuclear striking force is undoubtedly correct. The question remains whether giving such high priority to thwarting it may not have the ironical consequence of forcing NATO to remain committed to an obsolete strategy.
We will have to choose between seeking to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons within NATO and placing greater emphasis on local defense. A local defense of Europe is unthinkable without a French contribution or French coöperation. The refusal to help France even with projects not directly related to nuclear development (such as guidance systems for airplanes) threatens to turn an erroneous French doctrine into an obsession. By absorbing ever more of France's resources, it also reduces her potential contribution in other respects. As long as France cherishes this doctrine, then even in the unlikely event that her nuclear effort should eventually atrophy, the result in all probability would be not a greater contribution by France to the shield forces, but a sense of impotence leading to neutralism.
The chief drawback to our present policy is that, whatever its theoretical merit, it will not work. It will not prevent the spread of nuclear weapons- not even to France. It will prevent the build-up of local defense forces. If we are to make progress on the primary objective of improving NATO's capacity for local defense, we will have to be prepared-painful as it may be-to reassess our attitude towards France's nuclear ambitions.
However, if we decide to be more forthcoming with respect to the French atomic program-if only by aiding the development of delivery vehicles-we would have a right to insist that the resources thus saved be used to strengthen the conventional shield of NATO. We should make our assistance dependent on the willingness of France, and Great Britain for that matter, to maintain the forces they have promised to the NATO shield. If France accepts, the basis for a much greater and more systematic emphasis on local defense exists. Support for a modest French nuclear force at this stage may also be the best means of bringing about the European Force described earlier. If France refuses these conditions, it will be clear that she places notions of grandeur above the common interests of the alliance and ultimately above her own best interests.
VI. THE TASKS AHEAD
The above analysis indicates that the West confronts the following tasks:
(1) NATO must face the fact that during the 1960s the opposing strategic forces are likely to grow increasingly invulnerable. This impels a substantial shift from a counterforce strategy to some concept of local defense. Unless this issue is explicitly met, NATO is condemned to evasions and a maximum incentive will be created for the multiplication of national retaliatory forces.
(2) NATO must choose between the two available options for local defense: a primary reliance on conventional defense with nuclear forces in support or, alternatively, an emphasis on a tactical nuclear concept. To attempt to combine both-or to act as if NATO has one capability while it really has another-may invite disaster.
(3) Whichever option is selected, NATO must draw the indicated consequences. The corollary to a reliance on conventional defense is a detailed and integrated NATO mobilization plan. The corollary to a tactical nuclear defense is firm political control to ensure compliance with the strategy. In either case the shield forces will have to be increased beyond the 1957 goals.
(4) The choice between conventional and nuclear defense is not entirely the West's to make. Thus it is extremely dangerous to reject the notion of tactical nuclear defense as rigorously as we appear to have done.18
(5) Greater emphasis on local defense highlights the need not only for a conventional build-up but for the ability to conduct discriminating tactical nuclear operations. The nuclear weapons now on the Continent should therefore be given a clear tactical mission-primarily that of controlling the battle situation. A tactical nuclear command should be formed under SACEUR, charged with planning and conducting tactical nuclear operations. Nuclear weapons should be removed from the control of front- line units and placed under this command. The tactical nuclear arsenal would be a much more useful focus for a multilateral NATO command than a small strategic force, since all the weapons relevant to the tactical mission could be assigned to it. To take account of the European wish for a greater role in nuclear planning, the commander of this force could be a European, presumably French.
(6) If it makes sense for NATO to rely on local defense, the implications of this for other areas must be squarely faced. It will simply be untenable to rely on a local defense of the most vital area while depending on a strategy of nuclear retaliation every where else. Thus the mobile strategic reserve in this country will have to be augmented.
(7) With respect to strategic nuclear weapons, NATO should distinguish sharply between expedients to ward off immediate pressures and steps to achieve our long-term purposes. To have meaning, NATO guidelines for strategic forces should extend to all strategic forces of the alliance and not only to a small, some what artificial NATO force. A multilateral control system, if it is to be effective, would make most sense for a European and not a NATO force. As for the French, our best opportunity for constructive policy at this stage lies in seeking to divert them from exclusive preoccupation with their nuclear program, rather than in trying to obstruct it. However, assistance to France and Great Britain in the nuclear and related fields should be made dependent on their fulfilling their commitments to the shield forces, and undertaking not to spread nuclear weapons to other countries without our consent.
(8) The ultimate problem in NATO is not military. It is all very well to proclaim the indivisible interests of the North Atlantic Community of nations in the abstract. But on a whole series of disputes from the Congo to Berlin, the United States and our European allies have seen the matter differently. NATO cannot be welded into a unit militarily until it becomes one politically.
Some of the structural changes recommended by Alastair Buchan may help.19 But the real problem goes deeper. Nothing less is required than a fundamental reassessment of attitudes on both sides of the Atlantic. When NATO was formed, the United States was preponderant politically and strategically. The only security for our European allies was the American guarantee. They were therefore willing to accept most of our proposals without too many quibbles, whatever their real views, for their very act of submission increased our commitment. We have since then fallen into the habit of dealing with our European allies, except Great Britain, almost psycho-therapeutically; we have tended to confuse our periodic expressions of reassurance with the creation of a true partnership, and the muffling of European expressions of concern with meeting the cause of concern. Our Continental allies in turn have shown their disquiet more frequently in the hesitancy with which they have carried out agreed measures than in frankly asserting their disagreement.
In the decade ahead, we must face the fact that our mere enunciation of a policy no longer guarantees that it will be accepted. Henceforth, the Europeans are bound to examine not only the fact of our commitment, but also its nature. At the same time, our allies must accept the responsibility that goes with their new equality. If they merely show petulance, while refraining from suggesting constructive alternatives, they will drain the alliance of dynamism.
In many ways Europe's new self-assertiveness should be a source of pride for the United States. It marks the success of the policies ushered in by the Marshall Plan. Many of the difficulties described in this article arise from the very vitality and strength within the North Atlantic area. Resolving them is a worthy task, for it will liberate energies that could transform the nations of the North Atlantic into a true community. 1 Speech by Secretary of the Army Stahr to the NATO Parliamentarians Conference, November 13, 1961, cited in The New York Times, November 14, 1961. 2 Secretary of Defense McNamara, February 17, 1962. Speech to the Fellows of the American Bar Foundation, Chicago, cited in The New York Times, February 18, 1962. 3 The term "counterforce strategy" can be used in two senses: (a) as a strategy for general war, specifically for dealing with a Soviet attack on our strategic striking forces; (b) as a strategy for dealing with all challenges, including the defense of NATO. The author is of the view that in case of an attack on our retaliatory force a counterforce capability gives us the greatest degree of flexibility and may be an extremely important bargaining device. For almost every other challenge, including the defense of NATO, its utility will, however, decline constantly for the reasons outlined in this article. Whenever the term counterforce strategy is used in this article, it will be in the second sense: as a strategy for responding to challenges other than an attack on our strategic striking forces. The article does not argue against possessing such capability, where possible, but against relying on it too much. 4 The New York Times, June 7, 1961. 5 See reports in The New York Times of Secretary of Defense McNamara's presentation to the NATO Ministerial Meeting at Athens, May 6, 1962. 6 See below p. 530-1. 7 To reduce the danger of a sudden breakthrough, we should reëxamine the utility of building fortifications to protect strategic points on the central front. 8 News Conference, June 6, 1961, cited in The New York Times, June 7, 1961. 9 The New York Times, May 6, 1962. 10 Speech to the Fellows of the American Bar Foundation, loc. cit. 11 See below, p. 540. 12 See Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, April 21, 1962. 13 Speech by President Kennedy at Ottawa, May 17, 1961, text in The New York Times, May 18, 1961. 14 The New York Times, May 6, 1962. 15 Speech by President Kennedy at Ottawa, op. cit. 16 See Press Conference of March 1, reproduced in the Department of State Bulletin, March 19, 1962, p. 456. 17 Text of communiqué, The New York Times, May 7, 1962. 18 See the reports of Secretary of Defense McNamara's presentation to the NATO Ministerial Conference in The New York Times and New York Herald Tribune, May 6, 1962. 19 Foreign Affairs, January 1962. hans 发表于 2012-2-21 03:20 static/image/common/back.gif
哈哈，你要是有兴趣，把忙总推荐过的foreign affairs值得看的八篇文章都找来吧，下面是忙总指出的文章，我 ...
太长了，为了防止影响大家的阅读兴趣，我先帖前三篇，剩下的以后再贴 coolhihi 发表于 2012-2-21 04:04 static/image/common/back.gif
太长了，为了防止影响大家的阅读兴趣，我先帖前三篇，剩下的以后再贴
哇，谢谢啦，可以慢慢贴，一周或者一个月贴一个，大家看看讨论讨论的，呵呵，多谢了 hans 发表于 2012-2-21 05:34 static/image/common/back.gif
哇，谢谢啦，可以慢慢贴，一周或者一个月贴一个，大家看看讨论讨论的，呵呵，多谢了
没什么，网络就是用来共享的{:4_268:}
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