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Thucydides’ Other “Traps”: The United States, China, and the Prospect of “Inevitable” War
By Alan Greeley Misenheimer | June 4, 2019

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Introduction

Thucydides’ Other “Traps”: The United States, China, and the Prospect of
“Inevitable” War
Thucydides’ Other “Traps”: The United States, China, and the Prospect of “Inevitable” War
Thucydides’ Other “Traps”: The United States, China, and the Prospect of “Inevitable” War
Photo By: NDU Press
VIRIN: 190604-D-BD104-001

The notion of a “Thucydides Trap” that will ensnare China and the United States in a 21st century conflict—much as the rising power of Athens alarmed Sparta and made war “inevitable” between the Aegean superpowers of the 5th century BCE—has received global attention since entering the international relations lexicon 6 years ago. Scholars, journalists, bloggers, and politicians in many countries, notably China, have embraced this beguiling metaphor, coined by Harvard political science professor Graham Allison, as a framework for examining the likelihood of a Sino-American war. As Allison summarizes the concept,

When a rising power threatens to displace a ruling power, alarm bells should sound, extreme danger ahead. This is a big insight earned for us by Thucydides. And Thucydides said, famously, it was the rise of Athens and the fear that this instilled in Sparta that made war inevitable. This was the war between Athens and Sparta that basically destroyed classical Greece.1

Allison’s active promotion has given Thucydides (ca. 460–ca. 399 BCE), historian of the Peloponnesian War, new cachet as a sage of U.S.-China relations. References in academic journals, politicians’ speeches, and political cartoons have become ubiquitous across the Indo-Pacific region. Allison examines this historical metaphor at length in his May 2017 book Destined for War: Can America and China Escape Thucydides’s Trap?

This case study examines the Thucydides Trap metaphor and the response it has elicited. Hewing closely to what the historian of the Peloponnesian War actually says about the causes and inevitability of war, it argues that, while Thucydides’ text does not support Allison’s normative assertion about the “inevitable” result of an encounter between “rising” and “ruling” powers, the History of the Peloponnesian War (hereafter, History) does identify elements of leadership and political dynamic that bear directly on whether a clash of interests between two states is resolved through peaceful means or escalates to war. It is precisely because war typically begins with a considered decision by a national command authority to reject other options and mobilize for conflict (and thus always entails an element of choice) that insight from Thucydides’ History remains relevant and beneficial for the contemporary strategist, or citizen, concerned in such decisions.2

Accordingly, this case study concludes that the Thucydides Trap, as conceived and presented by Graham Allison, draws welcome attention both to Thucydides and to the pitfalls of great power competition, but fails as a heuristic device or predictive tool in the analysis of contemporary events. Allison’s metaphor offers, at best, a potentially misleading over-simplification of Thucydides’ nuanced and problematic account of the origins of the epochal conflict that defined his age. Moreover, it overlooks actual insights from the History that can help political decisionmakers—including, but not limited to, those of the United States and China—either avoid war or, if ignored, pose genuine policy “traps” that can make an avoidable war more likely, and a necessary war more costly.

An old adage defines war as God’s way of teaching us geography, and experience shows that anxiety over potential war can be equally instructive.3 The 1954 Taiwan Strait Crisis taught American voters the location and strategic significance of the previously little-known island groups of Quemoy and Matsu, a geography lesson that helped persuade them to elect Dwight Eisenhower to a second term. Lingering tensions after the 1958 Taiwan Strait Crisis made the islands a hot topic in the 1960 Kennedy-Nixon debates. Kennedy’s confident articulation of a nuanced position—supporting nationalist China but refusing to commit U.S. forces to protect tiny islands within range of mainland China’s artillery—helped tip the election against Nixon, whose pledge to protect Quemoy and Matsu as a matter of principle was widely judged too bellicose.4

The 1996 Taiwan Strait Crisis again drew global attention to China’s regional relations and territorial claims. In dispatching a U.S. carrier battle group to the region, U.S. Defense Secretary William J. Perry issued a tough public declaration: “Beijing should know . . . that while they are a great military power, the premier—the strongest—military power in the Western Pacific is the United States.”5 Arduous diplomacy defused the crisis and U.S.-Chinese relations in time resumed a positive footing. In fact, as the likelihood of conflict receded, the massive growth of two-way exchange transformed the U.S.-China bilateral relationship in ways that neither Eisenhower, nor Kennedy or Nixon could have foreseen.

Bilateral trade in goods burgeoned from $63.5 billion in 1996 to a staggering $599 billion in 2015. As a result, export-led growth transformed China’s domestic economy as the country’s middle class grew from 4 percent of the population in 2004 to 54 percent in 2012.6 With a 15.9 percent share of America’s global trade, China surpassed Canada to become the largest U.S. trading partner for the first time in 2016 (which also marked the 5th consecutive year in which the U.S. trade deficit with China topped $300 billion).7 Over the same 20-year period, China pursued a military buildup and a regional security policy that can be understood in large measure as a sustained effort to alter the power calculus behind Perry’s tough message in 1996.

In recent years, Beijing’s assertive actions in support of its enormous maritime claims in the South China and East China seas have confronted Washington with urgent new geography lessons. From remote survey stations in the Spratly/Nansha group in the mid-1990s, China has gradually expanded the scale and permanence of its offshore presence. In December 2013, China began extensive dredging and land reclamation efforts in support of its claims to three island groups in the South China Sea—the Spratly Islands, the Paracel/Xisha Islands, and the submerged Zhongsha Islands, which for China includes both the Macclesfield Bank and the Scarborough Shoal—and the Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands in the East China Sea. Regional states, most allied with the United States, have protested China’s mounting pressure tactics—including direct naval action—to assert control and restrict international access to disputed small features like Mischief Reef.8 Years of diplomatic engagement with Beijing by its maritime neighbors, including Brunei, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and Vietnam, have not slowed the Chinese drive to solidify its influence over the entire region.

The July 2016 international tribunal ruling against China’s maritime claims in the South China Sea and the subsequent policy lurch toward China and away from the United States by mercurial Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte have generated new uncertainties. The fact that two disputed territories, the Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands (Japan) and the Scarborough Shoal (Philippines), are covered by U.S. bilateral defense treaties adds sensitive red lines to the regional map. Despite the enormous volume of U.S.-China bilateral trade and investment, the palpable expansion of Chinese economic and military power in the South China and the East China seas thus raises inescapable concerns about the potential for escalation and conflict.

President Donald Trump’s extended visit to the Indo-Pacific region—including stops in China, Japan, South Korea, the Philippines (for the commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations [ASEAN]), and Vietnam (for the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation [APEC] economic leaders meeting and CEO Summit)—brought renewed international attention to the Thucydides Trap metaphor at the end of 2017, even as regional concerns over island-building appeared to recede.

During a year in which escalating tensions over North Korea’s nuclear program and missile tests dominated the news, China managed to dampen the furor over its island-building program, which now includes 7 outposts in the Spratlys and 20 in the Paracels, by projecting an image of goodwill toward its smaller maritime neighbors. Growing regional travel by Chinese tourists and investments under the rubric of the $900 billion “One Belt, One Road” initiative proved an effective palliative after escalating tensions through the preceding 3 years. While Chinese investment in far-flung port infrastructure construction and management is gradually altering the daily environment for sea-going traffic across a vast expanse of the Indian and Pacific Oceans, Beijing also ended 6 years of stalling talks toward a long-sought ASEAN code of conduct designed to avoid clashes at sea. The negotiations, which will not address conflicting claims of maritime sovereignty, are set to resume in early 2018.

While China has repeatedly claimed that its dredging and reclamation projects ended in June 2015, reporting by the Asia Maritime Transparency Initiative indicates that the Chinese continue to reclaim land in the Paracels, including recent work at Tree Island and North Island.9 Some perceived that the interaction of U.S. and Chinese naval assets in the disputed regions had “settled into a comfortable groove,” but the continuing Chinese buildup of capabilities on its new island outposts—including repair of damage inflicted by Typhoon Sarika in October 2016 at multiple sites and the arrival of fighter jets on Woody Island, the primary Chinese base in the Paracels—perpetuated uncertainty over Chinese intentions and the ominous long-term implications of the Thucydides Trap.10


Finding Ender: Exploring the Intersections of Creativity, Innovation, and Talent Management in the U.S. Armed Forces
By Susan F. Bryant and Andrew Harrison | May 20, 2019

 

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Executive Summary

N/A
Strategic Perspectives 31: Finding Ender
Cover Graphic of INSS Strategic Perspectives 31
Photo By: NDU Press
VIRIN: 190520-D-BD104-011

Current national-level strategic documents exhort the need for creativity and innovation as a precondition of America’s continued competitive edge in the international arena. But what does that really mean in terms of personnel, processes, and culture? This paper argues that an overlooked aspect of talent management, that of cognitive diversity, must be considered when retooling military talent management systems. Going one step further, talent management models must incorporate diversity of both skill set and mindset into their calculus. Specifically, the Department of Defense (DOD) needs to recruit, retain, and utilize Servicemembers and civilians with higher than average levels of creativity and a propensity for innovative thinking. It needs “enders.”

There is an inherent tension between encouraging creativity within the Armed Forces and maintaining military discipline. Academic studies have shown that military personnel score lower on average for creativity than their civilian counterparts and that those Servicemembers with higher levels of creativity are more likely to leave than remain for a career. Furthermore, this paper argues that there is an embedded bias in favor of critical thinking at the expense of creative thinking at all levels of professional military education (PME). Finally, given that military culture is authoritarian by nature, creativity can only flourish if commanders are open to out-of-the-box suggestions. Studies of military officers indicate that “openness” among officers actually decreases as rank increases.

The mandates of the 2018 National Defense Strategy, which stresses the need for innovation, require change in military culture, processes, education, and talent management if they are to be fully accomplished. To that end, the authors propose eight recommendations to leverage the creative potential of the DOD workforce. These include recognizing that cognitive diversity is multifaceted, adopting a commercial off-the-shelf instrument to test all personnel for creativity and innovation potential, determining the jobs in which highly creative individuals are most necessary, adopting industry best practices for achieving innovative outcomes, introducing design thinking and divergent thinking earlier in PME to reduce “convergence bias,” making sure leaders are exposed to the idea of cognitive diversity as part of their PME, actively recruiting personnel with high creative potential, and continuing to study small number (n) populations within DOD for high concentrations of cognitive outliers.

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Limiting Risk in America’s Wars
By Tom Greenwood | May 14, 2019
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Limiting Risk in America’s Wars: Airpower, Asymmetrics, and a New Strategic Paradigm
Limiting Risk in America’s Wars: Airpower, Asymmetrics, and a New Strategic Paradigm
Limiting Risk in America’s Wars: Airpower, Asymmetrics, and a New Strategic Paradigm
Photo By: Naval Institute Press
VIRIN: 190514-D-BD104-034


Limiting Risk in America’s Wars: Airpower, Asymmetrics, and a New Strategic Paradigm
By Phillip S. Meilinger
Naval Institute Press, 2017
$39.95 304 pp.
ISBN: 978-1682472507
 
Colonel Tom Greenwood, USMC (Ret.), was an Infantryman, with subsequent assignments at the Office of the Secretary of Defense for Policy and National Security Council.

In Limiting Risk in America’s Wars, Phillip Meilinger boldly argues against conducting prolonged wars of annihilation with large conventional U.S. ground forces. This strategy has proved too costly and seldom achieves the political goals for which recent campaigns have been fought, he argues. Instead, Meilinger, a retired Air Force pilot, favors the indirect approach espoused most prominently after World War I by British military thinkers Sir Basil H. Liddell Hart and Major General J.F.C. Fuller. Building on their ideas, the author contends U.S. strategy would be better served if our forces undertook second-front operations, which he defines as a “grand strategic maneuver involving a major military force that strikes the enemy unexpectedly somewhere other than the main theater of action (the source of the enemy’s strength).” Such operations could help divert opposing forces, attack critical vulnerabilities, reinforce allies, develop asymmetric advantages, and be decisively exploited. In short, second-front operations could enable military forces to avoid prolonged and inconclusive conflicts and more rapidly achieve stated war aims at lower risk.

The foregoing summary of the author’s analysis may strike some readers as strategically valuable. It may be in some contexts, but it is deceptively simple (perhaps even facile) when one ponders just how difficult it is to open up second-front operations against nonstate actors whose foot soldiers wear no uniforms, defend no sovereign territory, and rely on illicit transnational networks to fund their operations. Moreover, few readers are likely to argue that deception and surprise—key tenets of the indirect approach—are less important today than they were in Sun Tzu’s day. But, as U.S. Navy SEALs learned in 1992 when they came ashore in Somalia under the glare of TV cameras, the proliferation of information technology makes achieving and maintaining surprise on the modern battlefield extraordinarily difficult.

The most controversial theme of this book, however, is that advanced precision munitions have now elevated airpower to be America’s most decisive arm. And when combined with sophisticated intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) networks and highly trained special operations forces (SOF), the author believes this triad now renders large ground formations (similar to those employed in Afghanistan and Iraq) irrelevant. In his view, the latter are unwieldy, easy to target, often misconstrued as occupation forces, and responsible for a preponderance of civilian casualties. Citing 2006–2007 statistics from Afghanistan, Meilinger writes:

Nearly 95 percent of the 35 airstrikes resulting in collateral damage involved troops-in-contact—those instances when the rigorous safeguards taken at the air operations center to carefully vet targets to avoid such mistakes were bypassed. Given that there were some 5,342 airstrikes flown by Coalition air forces that dropped “major munitions” during those 2 years, the number causing collateral damage was a mere 0.65 percent of the total.

He further asserts that this percentage could have been lower if there had been fewer situations where troops-in-contact needed in-extremis close air support. Unfortunately, he offers scant evidence that SOF troops-in-contact were more adept at accurately guiding air-delivered munitions on to enemy targets than general purpose forces. Nor does he examine the implications of greater risk for SOF units in different operational contexts.

The author does a nice job balancing his discussion of warfighting theory with historical vignettes that highlight both successful and unsuccessful indirect approaches and second-front operations. The successful campaigns he discusses are the French and Indian wars in America (1754–1763), Wellington in Spain (1809–1812), the Arab Revolt (1916–1918), and Operation Torch in North Africa (1942). The failed campaigns he analyzes are the Sicilian Expedition during the Peloponnesian War (415–413 BCE), Imjin War (1592–1598), Napoleon Bonaparte in Egypt (1798–1799), Gallipoli (1915), and Norway (1940). Not surprisingly, he dedicates a separate chapter, titled “Descent into Disaster,” to the so-called endless wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The author’s succinct and pithy campaign summaries are quite good; however, no mention of modern armaments and airpower in some of the vignettes makes their relevance suspect, if not disconcerting, given his overarching theme about the efficacy of airpower.

Why did some of the armies and fleets in the case studies do better than others? Meilinger argues it was not simply that these forces pursued an indirect approach and fought on multiple fronts. Rather, they did so while displaying a high degree of strategic, operational, and tactical finesse by being consistently more proficient than their adversaries in devising a logical and achievable strategic plan; conducting an accurate net assessment; providing sound leadership; obtaining timely and accurate intelligence; fostering a friendly and sympathetic population; fielding properly sized forces; developing specialized doctrine, tactics, and weapons; and exercising command of both the sea and air.

However, a central question left unanswered by the book is whether Meilinger’s proposed triad (airpower, ISR, and SOF) will be able to withstand rigorous historical scrutiny and meet our future needs. In the era of great power competition, can this concept be ultimately validated as the Defense Department’s warfighting concept for use against high-end peer competitors?

There are good reasons to be skeptical. First, in a degraded and contested future operating environment, sophisticated ISR systems may prove increasingly unreliable, thereby impeding joint force target identification and kill chain processes so essential to sustaining high-tempo operations. The inability to locate enemy mobile targets could result in reduced U.S. and allied air target engagement and sortie generation rates, rendering second-front operations more problematic. More recent campaigns have enjoyed unusual freedom of action given the adversary’s inability to compete in the air domain.

Second, the increasing range and lethality of threat missile systems will require highly capable and robust U.S. and allied air defense units. While a quantitative analysis of U.S. air missile defense requirements is beyond the scope of this review, transforming fixed air bases—both overseas and at home—to successfully survive a long-range enemy cruise missile attack portends to be a Sisyphean task. As T.X. Hammes has noted in Joint Force Quarterly 81 (2nd Quarter 2016):

An opponent does not have to fight modern fighters or bombers in the air. Instead, he can send hundreds or even thousands of small UAVs [unmanned aerial vehicles] after each aircraft at its home station. Support aircraft, such as tankers . . . are even more difficult to protect. Even if aircraft are protected by shelters, radars, fuel systems, and ammunition dumps will still be highly vulnerable.

Third, distributing combat power across a theater may be a prerequisite for joint forces to survive and effectively operate inside the enemy’s weapons engagement rings. If so, then credible land forces will continue to play a vital role in executing a number of critical missions (for example, deterring, deceiving, protecting, raiding, reinforcing, clearing, attacking, holding, and evacuating, to name just a few). While SOF can perform some of these missions, they are ill-suited for others and generally lack sufficient organic combat power needed to defeat even modestly sized enemy formations. While large U.S. conventional ground forces bivouacked inside static forward operating bases may be a recipe for stalemate (if not defeat), it is an exaggeration to argue that conventional land forces have no operational utility in a high-end war. Ongoing efforts by the Army and Marine Corps to equip conventional forces with long-range precision surface fires could defend strategic chokepoints and free up maritime or aerospace forces to commence second-front operations that the author so strongly advocates. For this reason, readers should not be quick to dismiss the important role conventional land forces will continue to play on the modern battlefield within a joint context.

Fourth, assuming air installations can be adequately protected, it is not clear what the author’s theory of victory is for employing airpower—beyond minimizing military and civilian casualties—which is a recurring theme in the book. Historically, airpower has been less than decisive. While the World War II Bombing Survey acknowledged the significant impact of strategic bombing campaigns in both theaters, it did not determine they were decisive. Historians, including Geoffrey Wheatcroft (New York Review of Books, 2018) most recently, conclude that the operational and strategic effects of airpower have been hyped since Kitty Hawk. Airpower’s utility has garnered positive reviews in contemporary conflict (the two conventional Gulf Wars) as its precision capabilities have improved. Yet even with complete mastery of the air over Iraq, Afghanistan, and other ongoing campaigns, airpower has not yet proved that it can deliver decisive effects.

These reservations notwithstanding, Phillip Meilinger has written a thoughtful and provocative book that warrants close attention from JFQ’s readership. The changing character of war suggests it may be worthwhile to use this book as a springboard for once again reexamining airpower’s potential contribution to multidomain operations in the 21st century. JFQ


The Cold War and The Cold War’s Killing Fields
By Walter M. Hudson | May 14, 2019
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The Cold WarThe Cold War: A World History
By Odd Arne Westad
Basic Books, 2017
$40.00 720 pp.
ISBN: 978-0465054930













 

The Cold War's Killing FieldsThe Cold War's Killing Fields: Rethinking the Long Peace
By Paul Thomas Chamberlin
HarperCollins, 2018
$29.99 640 pp.
ISBN: 978-0062367204
 
Reviewed by Walter M. Hudson












 
Colonel Walter M. Hudson, USA, is an Assistant Professor and Deputy Chair of the National Security and Economic Policy Department in the Dwight D. Eisenhower School for National Security and Resource Strategy at the National Defense University.

The Cold War is now suddenly back in vogue, since we are supposedly entering an era of great power competition. China looms as the greatest security challenge according to the latest National Defense Strategy. China and Russia are considered revisionist powers, disturbers of the existing international order. Therefore, there is an understandable impulse to look back, beyond the war on terror of the 21st century’s first decades, beyond the dubious “End of History,” the info-tech boom of the 1990s, past the hubristic and all-so-brief “Unipolar Moment,” to the last great power struggle itself. It is ancient history to many now, but the decades-spanning Cold War, with its ideological clash between the communist and free worlds, certainly seems germane today. It was, at certain times, a potentially existential conflict that would turn the world into cinders. It was, at other times, a tense conflict that many thought would never end.

Two recently published sweeping surveys tell the Cold War’s story. Odd Arne Westad’s massive The Cold War: A World History broadens the temporal perspective. Instead of the standard 1945 to 1991 bracketing, he opens up a panoramic 100-year-long view. The Cold War did not start following apparent Soviet (or, depending on your perspective, American) encroachments into an opposing sphere of influence. The capitalist West and the communist Soviet Union had been in conflict from the USSR’s very founding in 1917. Indeed, Westad goes back even further than that. The Cold War era was born of larger 19th-century socioeconomic transformations. Economic unravelings, such as the global crisis of the 1890s, consequently loosened communists from socialists, turning the former into radical revolutionaries. Anti-colonialist stirrings in turn-of-the-century national parties and congresses from Indonesia to South Africa also contributed. These events subsequently brought forth leaders and mass movements, paving the way for ultimate independence. Europe’s 1914–1945 immolation, as Westad terms it, the “thirty-year European civil war,” gave rise to “revolutions, new states, economic dislocation, and destruction on a scale that nobody . . . would have thought possible.” World War II’s outcome finalized the global order’s de-Europeanization.

Seen this way, as part of a huge geopolitical economic and political reordering, we can therefore also see that the Cold War did not exclusively, or even primarily, define the planet and its inhabitants. Westad’s perspective shows that the U.S.-USSR Cold War dynamic can be seen as part of a larger historical process that was concurrent with the years of superpower standoff. Indeed, much of what strikes us as uniquely part of today’s newest novus ordo seclorum—its multipolarity, its nationalism, its identity obsession—was all underway during the Cold War. This very multiplicity continuously defied superpower attempts at taming and reducing it. As Westad writes, “Time and again, grand schemes for modernization, alliances, or transnational movements stumbled at the first hurdle laid by nationalism or other forms of identity politics.”

This reconfiguration of the Cold War as more than a bipolar ideological struggle is also emphasized in Paul Thomas Chamberlin’s hefty The Cold War’s Killing Fields: Rethinking the Long Peace. The author’s perspective is equally global, and to some degree revisionist (hence the title, a respectful riposte to Professor John Lewis Gaddis’s book) in challenging the notion that the Cold War was a time of bipolar placidity. As he capably sets forth, not only was the Cold War not bipolar, it also was not in the least sense cold. Fourteen million people were killed in what he calls “catastrophic waves of violence” that crashed on a huge geographic arc from northeast to southwest Asia.

What really mattered in emerging nations throughout the world, and especially in this killing arc, was not some proletarian revolution, but a workable model to jump-start a new country into modernity. In all its cruelty, destruction, and waste, the Soviet model for development—a combination of state planning, collectivized agriculture, and nationalized industry—seemed to offer the fastest path.

According to both authors, time and again the superpowers misread particular yearnings. In so doing, bipolarity not only did not keep the peace, but it also prolonged or otherwise escalated struggles into long-drawn-out conflicts fueled by superpower arms and money. Westad states, “Over and over again, events that were in origin local and specific metamorphosed into manifestations for a global struggle.” For Westad, the Cold War’s “universalist heart” drove America to stake massive amounts of blood and treasure in places that, only a few years earlier, had meant nothing. In American eyes, communism became the exemplar transnational threat that often demanded total, whole-of-government approaches on a scale that would dwarf anything today.

Chamberlin writes that sometimes America did not even understand that success, in terms of stopping communism, was staring it in the face—for example, the brutal obliteration of the Indonesian Communist Party in the mid-1960s that all but secured much of Southern Asia from communism and that served as a “harbinger for the collapse of the Communist movement in the Third World.” Yet at the same time, the United States plunged ever deeper in the Vietnam morass to stop a model of communism already on its way to being discredited in the same region. Of course, the Soviets misread the world as well. According to Westad, the fundamental contradiction of the seeming pan-Marxist offensive during the Cold War was that communism premised itself on a classless, nationless world of proletarians and peasants—but the “problem was that for many ordinary people . . . a strong nation-state was what they wished for most.”

China gets rich treatment in both books. The communist victory in China was, Chamberlin notes, of momentous consequence. Its triumph there, with fully 20 percent of the world’s population, seemingly made the world look all of a sudden “Red.” In America, the shock was enormous (imagine if all of Saudi Arabia, Egypt, or Turkey fell completely under al Qaeda, and one gets a small sense of the dismay). It astonished the Soviets precisely because what happened went completely against communist doctrine—China was a peasant nation, not an industrialized one, and its revolution was not led by the proletariat. And in just a few years after communist China’s founding, China broke decisively with the USSR and pursued a separate geopolitical trajectory. Even among major powers, the Cold War ceased being a bipolar struggle. Westad points out that the mid-1950s Sino-Soviet split ended the notion of the USSR and China as “brother states” for good. Any notion that the world was simply bipolar should have been discarded.

Few policymakers understood this. Westad notes that President Richard Nixon, for all his many faults, was one of the few who did. Nixon, in Westad’s book, is a very strange hero of the very strange Cold War (juxtapose this with Chamberlin’s villainous take). It was Nixon, who in Westad’s words, “[b]ecause he fundamentally distrusted his own people, forced U.S. foreign policy onto a track where, for the first time during the Cold war, it dealt with others on the assumption that U.S. global hegemony would not last forever.” Nixon, in his rejection both of American exceptionalism and democratic globalism, was thus able to grasp China’s singularity, a concept far more important than “linkage.” China could be separated and dealt with as its own entity, not as part of a larger global pattern.

Nixon’s breakthrough occurred in the 1970s, the Cold War’s strangest decade. Experts assumed the superpowers were becoming, in Westad’s words, a “permanent duopoly, in which the United States and the Soviet Union shared responsibility for limiting regional conflict, making sure that nuclear weapons did not proliferate, and avoiding restlessness within their own ranks.” But this overstated superpower influence and importance. The ground was in fact shifting tectonically during the 1970s. Conflicts broke out that escaped the taut Cold War logic. The India-Pakistan War in 1971 had little to do with superpower ideological struggle; the stakes were not in the slightest over whether a communist party would prevail. Rather, as Chamberlin notes, the war indicated the rise of “ethno-religious politics of violence in the Third World.”

This new wave of conflict defied superpower labeling. Chamberlin writes of “a new breed of radicals driven by religious and ethnic politics [that] seized the vanguard . . . this next generation of fighters rejected both Washington and Moscow’s influence.” A prime example was Lebanon, the apparent “model of a functioning, multisectarian republic” that exploded into violence and anarchy. Beirut’s Battle of the Hotels, during which Phalangist, Muslim, and pan-Arab secularist gunmen shot it out from atop luxury resort high-rises, augured this era. Meanwhile, Marxist globalist pretentions were dashed as neighboring communist nations fought each other tooth and claw. Cambodia launched attacks into Vietnam in 1977, just 2 years after absolute communist victory in both countries, and Vietnam responded with its own invasion. By the following year, Pol Pot was calling for Vietnam’s “wholesale destruction.” And, of course, nothing was more astonishing than the Iranian Revolution.

All in all, neither book is perfect. In Chamberlin’s account in particular, there is a whiff of agit-history, of revisionist historical thinking that, at times, makes American policymakers and their policies sound venal, and/or downright sinister in ways that strike this reviewer as unfair. And Westad concludes with a sort of would-be idealist paean that the previous 600 pages-plus of his global history undermine. Nonetheless, both books’ distinctive virtues strongly outweigh their flaws.

So, in the end, what lessons can we derive, explicit or implicit, from these Cold War histories? We know that the Cold War demanded a clear and long-term strategy at the highest level. Strategies, often due to their temporal and contextual construction, as well as the demands for parsimony, have to whittle down complex situations. The Cold War strategies adopted by the United States may not have been done with ill will or bad intentions. At times, they may have been theoretically sound and coherent. But they often simplified and assumed away too much. Given the stakes, the temptation was constantly to seek connection when there was, in fact, particularity or separation. Events seemed linked, though often such events were not, and nations and peoples acted with unique motivations. This pattern-seeking compulsion in turn prompted and itself fed what David Halberstam termed the “crisis psychology” of the Cold War: threats were everywhere and increasing, and thus they became existential. Instead, what we can learn from each book is that, often during the Cold War, the parts were greater than the whole. Nations and peoples worked out their own destinies, regardless of, and sometimes in defiance of, superpower goals. Perhaps the biggest lesson, as simple as it may be, is to be aware, not of connection and pattern, but of exceptionalism and singularity. JFQ


Fire for Effect: The Evolution of Joint Fires
By J. Mark Berwanger | May 14, 2019

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Commander J. Mark Berwanger, USN, is a Joint Doctrine Analyst in the Joint Doctrine Analysis Division, Joint Force Development, Joint Staff J7.

Iraqi security forces and coalition partners, including U.S. Army Soldiers with 3rd Cavalry Regiment, provided fire support to assist Syrian Democratic Forces as they continued military offensive to rid so-called Islamic State from Syria, June 8, 2018 (U.S. Army/Anthony Zendejas IV)
Iraqi security forces and coalition partners, including U.S. Army Soldiers with 3rd Cavalry Regiment, provided fire support to assist Syrian Democratic Forces as they continued military offensive to rid so-called Islamic State from Syria, June 8, 2018 (U.S. Army/Anthony Zendejas IV)
Iraqi security forces and coalition partners, including U.S. Army Soldiers with 3rd Cavalry Regiment, provided fire support to assist Syrian Democratic Forces as they continued military offensive to rid so-called Islamic State from Syria, June 8, 2018 (U.S. Army/Anthony Zendejas IV)
Iraqi security forces and coalition partners, including U.S. Army Soldiers with 3rd Cavalry Regiment, provided fire support to assist Syrian Democratic Forces as they continued military offensive to rid so-called Islamic State from Syria, June 8, 2018 (U.S. Army/Anthony Zendejas IV)
Iraqi security forces and coalition partners, including U.S. Army Soldiers with 3rd Cavalry Regiment, provided fire support to assist Syrian Democratic Forces as they continued military offensive to rid so-called Islamic State from Syria, June 8, 2018 (U.S. Army/Anthony Zendejas IV)
Photo By: Spc. Anthony Zendejas
VIRIN: 190514-D-BD104-028

On September 28, 2018, Joint Publication (JP) 3-60, Joint Targeting, was revised and signed by the Director of Joint Force Development, and JP 3-09, Joint Fire Support, is in the final stages of its revision, tentatively scheduled to be signed in the fall of 2019. While the level of effort put into the revision of both of these documents is commendable, there will be many who will claim joint doctrine falls short in providing the joint force with the necessary fires- and targeting-related doctrine to properly integrate and synchronize all capabilities needed to accomplish the commander’s intent.

The next step in the evolution of fires should involve a cultural change and expanded understanding of the concept, including all offensive capabilities used to influence an adversary, regardless of the originating weapon system, thereby allowing the targeting process to be fully realized. For some time, adversaries have been honing their ability to influence the United States, using their full range of traditional and nontraditional military capabilities. The United States, however, continues to struggle with how to properly incorporate the totality of its own offensive capabilities. The daily news cycle is driven by the desired effects of U.S. adversaries operating below the level of armed conflict, but until change in U.S. military culture and perception takes place, the joint force’s complications associated with integrating and synchronizing the full complement of capabilities will remain. Currently, there is no consensus on how to fully describe and fully encompass the magnitude of military capabilities that can be brought to bear in a coordinated effort to accomplish a mission.

Joint doctrine is considered the standardized foundation for military leaders and planners to use when employing the joint force. It is the “fundamental principles and overarching guidance for the employment of the Armed Forces of the United States. This represents the evolution in our warfighting guidance and military theory that forms the core of joint warfighting doctrine and establishes the framework for our forces’ ability to fight as a joint team.”1 Throughout the operating joint force, terms like kinetic and nonkinetic or lethal and nonlethal are used. Some of these terms (lethal and nonlethal) are found in doctrine and some of them (kinetic and nonkinetic) are not. Some of these terms are used correctly (in accordance with doctrine), and some of them are not. For example, the phrase nonlethal weapon is often used to describe any weapon that creates a nonlethal effect. However, nonlethal weapon is defined in joint doctrine as a “weapon, device, or munition that is explicitly designed and primarily employed to incapacitate personnel or materiel immediately, while minimizing fatalities, permanent injury to personnel, and undesired damage to property in the target area or environment” (that is, beanbag guns or tear gas).2

Scout snipers with 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, Marine Air-Ground Task Force-6, provide long-distance fire support while conducting the Air Assault Course during Integrated Training Exercise 2-19 aboard Marine Corps Air-Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms, California, February 9, 2019 (U.S. Marine Corps/Victor A. Mancilla)
Scout snipers with 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, Marine Air-Ground Task Force-6, provide long-distance fire support while conducting the Air Assault Course during Integrated Training Exercise 2-19 aboard Marine Corps Air-Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms, California, February 9, 2019 (U.S. Marine Corps/Victor A. Mancilla)
Scout snipers with 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, Marine Air-Ground Task Force-6, provide long-distance fire support while conducting the Air Assault Course during Integrated Training Exercise 2-19 aboard Marine Corps Air-Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms, California, February 9, 2019 (U.S. Marine Corps/Victor A. Mancilla)
Scout snipers with 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, Marine Air-Ground Task Force-6, provide long-distance fire support while conducting the Air Assault Course during Integrated Training Exercise 2-19 aboard Marine Corps Air-Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms, California, February 9, 2019 (U.S. Marine Corps/Victor A. Mancilla)
Scout snipers with 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, Marine Air-Ground Task Force-6, provide long-distance fire support while conducting the Air Assault Course during Integrated Training Exercise 2-19 aboard Marine Corps Air-Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms, California, February 9, 2019 (U.S. Marine Corps/Victor A. Mancilla)
Photo By: Sgt. Victor Mancilla
VIRIN: 190514-D-BD104-029


Many terms are not defined in doctrine purposely because the dictionary definition is sufficient. The reason behind the appearance or absence of certain “contentious” terms in joint doctrine is that doctrine development is a deliberate, detail-based process. In order for information to be updated/added to joint doctrine, it must be shown to be extant in the joint force. The opposite of extant practice would be a concept, until it is proved and accepted (see Joint Concept Integration and Development System). Also, there must be consensus among the key voting members of the joint doctrine development community before information can be added or changed. Examples of voting members include combatant commands and the individual Services. This is the simple answer to why kinetic is not found anywhere in joint doctrine; currently, there is no consensus among the community regarding the definition of kinetic and how it should be used in joint doctrine, even though the term is widely used across the joint force. Ultimately, this does not prevent the joint force from using the term anyway.

It is noteworthy to mention that in the preface of any joint publication there is a statement under “Application” that states, “The guidance in this publication is authoritative; as such, this doctrine will be followed except when, in the judgment of the commander, exceptional circumstances dictate otherwise.” While the term kinetic is commonly used across most combatant commands, the use of such a term does come with associated risk. When there is a lack of joint force consensus concerning a term, and therefore not resident within joint doctrine, there is the potential the term could be used dissimilarly, which could potentially carry serious implications.

During the revision process, a common response within the joint fires community was that clear doctrine is needed regarding how to integrate nontraditional capabilities with other more traditional ones. Theoretically, this is already answered in JP 3-60, which states that targeting is “the process of selecting and prioritizing targets and matching the appropriate response to them, considering operational requirements and capabilities.”3 The targeting process requires a continuous analytic process to identify, develop, and affect targets to meet the commander’s objectives and provides planners with access to detailed information on the targets, supported by the nominating component’s analytical reasoning that links the targets with the desired effects. Targeting helps integrate and synchronize fires among the other joint functions (command and control, intelligence, movement and maneuver, protection, sustainment, and information).4 Additionally, JP 3-60 states:

The employment of capabilities and other activities that create nonlethal effects such as key leader engagement, civil-military operations, and military information support operations can help address these concerns. Nonlethal effects, including use of information-related capabilities (IRCs), can also influence adversary decisionmakers’ choice of actions, local public opinion, and indirectly affect domestic and international support of the adversary. Nonlethal effects provide the joint force commander a range of flexible options. The selection, availability, scalability, and effectiveness of capabilities and activities provide the joint force commander the means to engage targets throughout the operational environment.5

These passages from joint doctrine have not changed appreciably over past revisions, and the joint force continues to identify the need for doctrinal clarity with issues of integration and synchronization of capabilities.

Despite the limitations discussed, there have been many improvements to targeting doctrine. The recent changes to JP 3-60:

  • clarify roles and responsibilities of components and joint force commander staffs during the joint targeting cycle (JTC)
  • update and clarify the joint targeting coordination board’s roles and responsibilities
  • update and clarify the joint fires element’s targeting roles and responsibilities
  • update and clarify the joint fires targeting working group’s roles and responsibilities.
  • add discussion on coordination between components when one component, supported or supporting, engages time-sensitive targets within another component’s area of operations
  • update the target development discussion consistent with changes to Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Instruction 3370.01B, Target Development Standards
  • consolidate and clarify the discussion of cognitive, control, and information characteristics
  • add discussion clarifying the relationship between target lists and the no-strike list
  • add new discussion on nonlethal effects estimates
  • add new discussion for joint force maritime component targeting in appendix C, “Component Targeting Processes”
  • add discussion on the integration of space operations in joint targeting in appendix C
  • modify the name of Phase 6 of the JTC from “Assessment” to “Combat Assessment” and replace the phrase targeting assessment with combat assessment throughout the publication.

JP 3-60 does a reasonable job of being agnostic when it comes to determining which specific fires capability or solution should be used to achieve the desired effect on the target. This is a vitally important part of the JTC. The process begins with Phase 1, “Commander’s Objectives, Targeting Guidance, and Intent” and it is only in Phase 4, “Commander’s Decision and Force Assignment,” just prior to employment, that a decision is made as to which specific capability will be used to achieve the desired effects on the target. Ideally, this is only done after every available capability has been considered for the intended target. This process is similar to the way that defense acquisition programs are run.

To get the best possible solution, in any advance problem-solving method, the process should not begin with a preconceived notion of what the answer will be. Instead, regarding an acquisition program, a capability gap is identified first, and a deep understanding of the requirements is established. Then the process looks to develop a product that will satisfy that gap, instead of designing a new piece of gear and then looking for a military problem to apply it toward.6 The JTC was designed to work much the same way.

Using Dazzler nonlethal weapon and blank rounds, Embarked Security Team on board USNS Rainier, along with Sailors on board Coastal Riverine
Squadron Three’s Riverine Command Boats, defend from simulated attack as Rainer departs to support ships for RIMPAC 2016, Joint Base Pearl Harbor-
Hickam, Hawaii, July 24, 2016 (U.S. Navy/Martin Wright)
Using Dazzler nonlethal weapon and blank rounds, Embarked Security Team on board USNS Rainier, along with Sailors on board Coastal Riverine Squadron Three’s Riverine Command Boats, defend from simulated attack as Rainer departs to support ships for RIMPAC 2016, Joint Base Pearl Harbor- Hickam, Hawaii, July 24, 2016 (U.S. Navy/Martin Wright)
Using Dazzler nonlethal weapon and blank rounds, Embarked Security Team on board USNS Rainier, along with Sailors on board Coastal Riverine
Squadron Three’s Riverine Command Boats, defend from simulated attack as Rainer departs to support ships for RIMPAC 2016, Joint Base Pearl Harbor-
Hickam, Hawaii, July 24, 2016 (U.S. Navy/Martin Wright)
Using Dazzler nonlethal weapon and blank rounds, Embarked Security Team on board USNS Rainier, along with Sailors on board Coastal Riverine Squadron Three’s Riverine Command Boats, defend from simulated attack as Rainer departs to support ships for RIMPAC 2016, Joint Base Pearl Harbor- Hickam, Hawaii, July 24, 2016 (U.S. Navy/Martin Wright)
Using Dazzler nonlethal weapon and blank rounds, Embarked Security Team on board USNS Rainier, along with Sailors on board Coastal Riverine Squadron Three’s Riverine Command Boats, defend from simulated attack as Rainer departs to support ships for RIMPAC 2016, Joint Base Pearl Harbor- Hickam, Hawaii, July 24, 2016 (U.S. Navy/Martin Wright)
Photo By: Petty Officer 1st Class Martin W
VIRIN: 190514-D-BD104-030

The commander’s objectives are understood first. A target is identified that if manipulated or influenced could create the effects that will achieve the commander’s intent. Then the targeting process attempts to match the best capabilities with that specific target. Yet it is still currently difficult (nearly impossible) for joint force planners to integrate their IRC capabilities with other, more traditional capabilities earlier in the targeting process. All too often, the IRC and traditional targeting working groups are held separately and only joined or integrated at the decision board level. Examples of these separate working groups include the information operations working group, which is often separate from the joint targeting working group. In many instances, planners come to these working groups having already identified the capability to use against a proposed target and the desired effect. The remaining tasks are to receive commander approval and synchronize the effort. While this process works, it is inherently flawed and contrary to the genesis behind the targeting cycle. Since warfighters are creatures of habit, they inherently fall back on what comes naturally. Cyber warriors will naturally look for cyber targets having already decided that a cyber weapon should be used­—similar to the way bomber pilots will look for targets that they believe would best be serviced by a bomber. Instead, all warriors should integrate earlier in the targeting cycle and consider all capabilities as possible “fires” providers. Only after all capabilities have been considered should a force allocation recommendation be made to the joint force commander.

Arguably, the issue resides in the fires culture and what has traditionally been considered fires. Furthermore, according to JP 3-09, “Joint targeting is a fundamental task of the fires function that encompasses many disciplines and requires participation from all joint force staff elements and components. The purpose of joint targeting is to integrate and synchronize joint fires into joint operations by utilizing available capabilities to create a specific lethal or nonlethal effect on a target.”7 Other key definitions are provided to fully understand the background of the issue:

  • Fires: The use of weapon systems or other actions to create specific lethal or nonlethal effects on a target.8
  • Joint fires: Fires delivered during the employment of forces from two or more components in coordinated action to produce desired effects in support of a common objective. See also fires.9
  • Scheme of fires: The detailed, logical sequence of targets and fire support events to find and engage targets to support the commander’s objectives.10
  • Joint fires observer: A trained Servicemember who can request, adjust, and control surface-to-surface fires, provide targeting information in support of Type 2 and 3 close air support terminal attack control, and perform autonomous terminal guidance operations.11
  • Munitions: Munitions are used to create desired effects on targets. The joint force commander may issue guidance on the use or restricted use of unique weapons or certain munitions types (for example, cluster munitions or mines) and may prioritize the allocation or use of joint operations area–wide systems like the Tomahawk missile or the Army Tactical Missile System for specific purposes.12
  • Munition: A complete device charged with explosives; propellants; pyrotechnics; initiating composition; or chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear material for use in operations including demolitions.13

Culturally, the joint force understands what has traditionally been considered fires and how to apply the JTC to traditional fires. At first glance it appears that the definition of fires supports the solution-neutral approach to targeting as discussed. Nevertheless, once the first layer of fires is peeled back, the current understanding of the joint function is rooted in what is traditionally considered a weapon and weapon system. As described in doctrine, the joint force “engages” targets by “employing” weapon systems, which “deliver” munitions. Munitions are traditionally described by their type (for example, cluster munitions or mines)14 and defined in doctrine as “a complete device charged with explosives; propellants; pyrotechnics; etc.”15 This definition resonates through the traditional thought process on how conflicts are fought, and why many planner-level working groups are separated and stovepiped. Traditional weapons systems (a rifle) employ munitions (bullets) to create an effect (deceased enemy combatants).

With this in mind, it should come as no surprise that traditional capabilities work through traditional working groups and boards, while nontraditional IRCs work through their own working groups and boards, and the two try to deconflict from each other after most of the force allocation decisions have been made, instead of synchronizing and integrating early—the way the targeting cycle is designed to function. Admittedly, there are other barriers to bringing all the capabilities together in one room, namely classification issues. But this issue is easily overcome; in order to conduct the targeting process, only the knowledge that an effect could be achieved, and to what extent, is necessary. The specifics on how the effect is achieved may remain protected while still allowing the process to run its course.

In previous conflicts, it may have been possible to focus mainly on traditional capabilities and targeting while sprinkling on IRCs as an afterthought. However, this is not the world of warfare anymore, and arguably never was. Adversaries have been using information as a weapon for quite some time and their prowess is only increasing. The increased focus placed on information-related capabilities is evident from the creation of the newest joint function, information; U.S. Cyber Command’s activation as a combatant command; the creation of a separate Space Force; as well as the focus of “competition short of armed conflict” found in the Joint Concept for Integrated Campaigning (and the subject of the forthcoming Joint Doctrine Note, “Competition Continuum”). Among many national defense documents, the amount of attention and focus all the other nontraditional capabilities are currently receiving is paramount. The speed of information is only increasing, and the effects of nontraditional capabilities are felt globally. It is difficult for a traditional military planner to consider something like a social media post (for instance, a tweet) as munition and something like a blog as a weapon system, but this is the needed change in military thinking and doctrine that is required to bring the joint force in line with the Chairman’s focus and strategy.

Barbados servicemember shoots nonlethal rounds with M32 grenade launcher during exercise Tradewinds 2016, at Twickenham Park Gallery Range, Jamaica, June 24, 2016 (U.S. Marine Corps/Justin T. Updegraff)
Barbados servicemember shoots nonlethal rounds with M32 grenade launcher during exercise Tradewinds 2016, at Twickenham Park Gallery Range, Jamaica, June 24, 2016 (U.S. Marine Corps/Justin T. Updegraff)
Barbados servicemember shoots nonlethal rounds with M32 grenade launcher during exercise Tradewinds 2016, at Twickenham Park Gallery Range, Jamaica, June 24, 2016 (U.S. Marine Corps/Justin T. Updegraff)
Barbados servicemember shoots nonlethal rounds with M32 grenade launcher during exercise Tradewinds 2016, at Twickenham Park Gallery Range, Jamaica, June 24, 2016 (U.S. Marine Corps/Justin T. Updegraff)
Barbados servicemember shoots nonlethal rounds with M32 grenade launcher during exercise Tradewinds 2016, at Twickenham Park Gallery Range, Jamaica, June 24, 2016 (U.S. Marine Corps/Justin T. Updegraff)
Photo By: Cpl. Justin Updegraff
VIRIN: 190514-D-BD104-031

The Joint Concept for Integrated Campaigning, which is gaining so much attention and popularity, agrees that the Department of Defense is already being outpaced by adversaries who are currently capable of integrating all of their offensive capabilities. According to the concept, “adversaries will continue to creatively combine conventional and nonconventional methods to achieve objectives by operating below a threshold that would invoke a direct military response from the United States while retaining the capability to engage in more conventional armed conflict.”16 The concept also places a large emphasis on integrating and synchronizing joint force capabilities and activities. One of the “interrelated elements” comprising the central idea behind integrated campaigning is “Employ the Integrated Force and Secure Gains.” Under this element is the required capability to “synchronize joint force and foreign partner activities in an integrated campaign construct.”17 The concept goes on to state, “The factors of integrated campaign design allow for an informed application of joint force capabilities and strengthen the alignment of the instruments of national power. The factors work in conjunction with existing methodologies to assist the joint force in achieving U.S. policy aims.”18 Throughout all the strategic-level documents, the same conclusion can be found—all capabilities need to be integrated in order to achieve the optimal desired effects.

Until the definition, utilization, and cultural understanding of “fires” is updated to include all offensive capabilities, regardless of the weapon system they originate from, the integration and synchronization problem will remain. The JTC is designed to provide the optimal solutions, but stovepiping capabilities prevents the process from being fully realized. Instead of trying to achieve consensus on a specific term like kinetic, the joint doctrine development community and the joint force should focus on the primary warfighting function that is responsible for delivering the effects necessary to achieve the commander’s objectives. Without doing so, the same complications of synchronization and integrations will be manifested repeatedly and will continue to be brought up during joint exercise after action reports as well as feedback received during joint fires-related publications revisions. The capabilities are extant and efforts are ongoing to use the JTC the way it was designed. The missing piece now is the formalization of the idea that all capabilities need to be considered. To do this, all offensive capabilities should be considered under the fires function and thereby equally considered during the targeting process. Similar to a concept developing into the next major military acquisition program, the solution cannot already be assumed. Incorporating the integration and synchronization of all offensive capabilities allows joint planners, through the JTC, the ability to recommend an optimal solution to achieve the desired effects, enhancing how fires are understood at the fundamental level. It will refocus the joint warfighting community and open the eyes of those who have been constrained by compartmented ideologies. Then joint force commanders will truly know what it means to “fire for effect.” JFQ

Notes

1 Joint Publication (JP) 1, Doctrine for the Armed Forces of the United States (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, March 25, 2013, Incorporating Change 1, July 12, 2017).

2 JP 3-28, Defense Support of Civil Authorities (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, October 29, 2018).

3 JP 3-60, Joint Targeting (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, January 31, 2013).

4 Ibid.

5 Ibid., II-17.

6 Defense Acquisition Guidebook (Fort Belvoir, VA: Defense Acquisition University, 2017), available at <www.dau.mil/tools/dag/>.

7 JP 3-09, Joint Fire Support (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, December 12, 2014).

8 Ibid.

9 Ibid.

10 Ibid.

11 JP 3-09.3, Close Air Support (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, November 25, 2014).

12 As described in JP 3-09.

13 JP 3-42, Joint Explosive Ordnance Disposal (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, September 9, 2016).

14 JP 3-09.

15 JP 3-42.

16 Joint Concept for Integrated Campaigning (Washington, DC: The Joint Staff, March 16, 2018), available at <www.jcs.mil/Portals/36/Documents/Doctrine/concepts/joint_concept_integrated_campaign.pdf?ver=2018-03-28-102833-257>.

17 Ibid.

18 Ibid.