Revisiting the First Salvo: The Importance of Getting the Narrative Out

The Defense Department did an excellent job embedding a CNN reporter and camera crew aboard the P-8 that challenged Chinese territorial claims in the South China Sea back in May. By doing so, the U.S. established an independent and credible record of the flight’s events that could stand up against Chinese propaganda efforts. More importantly, it created a precedent that the U.S. might embed international media aboard any such flight over contested international waters in the region. The Chinese would have every reason to assume that the reactions of their on-scene forces to these flights might be broadcast to the world within hours, and as such might be encouraged to practice the utmost restraint in those reactions.

Not every claims-challenging U.S. Navy flight or warship transit will have embedded media aboard, though. It might be even harder (or perhaps entirely undesirable from an Operational Security standpoint) to embed media in frontline forces during a precipice-of-war crisis. And the issue is hardly isolated to the Far East; there have been applicable incidents within recent memory in Europe and the Mid-East.

Recall, then, what I wrote when I touched on this topic last October:

“…defeating a first salvo also means defeating the attacker’s inevitable diplomatic-propaganda campaign. Attackers within range of their homeland cellular networks, or otherwise using satellite uplinks, can quickly post audiovisual content recorded and edited on smartphones or similar devices to websites such as YouTube. From there, propaganda specialists can work to push the material via social networks to critical audiences; it may not take more than a few hours to become ‘viral’ and make the jump to traditional global media outlets. The side that gets seemingly-credible evidence of what happened out first seizes the initiative, perhaps decisively, in the diplomatically and politically-critical battle for the international and domestic public narratives regarding culpability and justification.

In a first salvo’s immediate aftermath, the defender must be able to quickly collect, process, and disseminate unimpeachable audiovisual evidence of its victimization without harming Operational Security. This would be no small feat, especially aboard a warship that is severely damaged or steeling itself for follow-on attacks. Even harder is developing continuously updated, interagency-coordinated, ‘stock’ narrative outlines in advance of any operation that might expose units to direct first salvo risk, not to mention the doctrine and training necessary to swiftly get an initial narrative out into the global media. Contrary to current public affairs practice, in some scenarios this might require evidence processing and public dissemination by lower echelons to be followed thereafter with amplification and context by executive Navy and national leadership. This will be a vitally important area for exploration through war gaming and fleet experiments.”

Jerry Hendrix makes the same point in his commentary on the Su-24 flyby of the USS Ross in the Black Sea on May 30th:

“We're a bit like lawyers," Hendrix said. “Before we make a response we are going to go back, gather the facts, look at the tape and then issue our response. But by the time we do, 24 to 48 hours later, Russia has already established the narrative: The ship was going to penetrate Russia's sovereign waters and the Russian military gloriously forced it to alter course.”

This dovetails with my ongoing crusade in favor of decentralized command and control doctrine, mission command, and command by negation. We have to start training and equipping our crews at the ‘tip of the spear’ so that they can engage in the narrative battle as an incident unfolds or immediately after it occurs. At bare minimum, we must give our crews what they need so that the U.S. and its allies do not lose the “first narrative salvo.”

Although this requires considerable delegation of “media messaging” authority and is accordingly not without risk, it is not fundamentally different than delegating tactical decision-making authority to the lowest practicable level in accordance with a higher-level commander’s intent. If we trust our trained ship, submarine, and aircraft squadron Commanding Officers and crews with the proper use of weapons systems in a tense situation, then we should also be able to train them so we can trust them with wielding smartphones and internet connections as an incident unfolds.

We could develop specially trained public affairs detachments for embarkation in our forces headed into contested waters; they could serve as Commanding Officers’ dedicated specialists much like any other division or workcenter. Or we could develop training regimes to prepare ship and aircraft crews, themselves, to fill these roles. Either way, if we’re serious about winning narrative battles—or at least not losing them when they matter most—we will have to empower our frontline forces. Our broader strategy in a given crisis or conflict may depend greatly on it.

The views expressed herein are solely those of the author and are presented in his personal capacity. They do not reflect the official positions of Systems Planning and Analysis, and to the author’s knowledge do not reflect the policies or positions of the U.S. Department of Defense, any U.S. armed service, or any other U.S. Government agency.

Revisiting ADM Stansfield Turner’s Classic “Missions of the Navy”

Admiral Stansfield Turner, 1983 (Courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

“The fundamental element of a military service is its purpose or role in implementing national policy. The statement of this role may be called the strategic concept of the service. Basically, this concept is a description of how, when, and where the military service expects to protect the nation against some threat to its security. If a military service does not possess such a concept, it becomes purpose-less, it wallows about amid a variety of conflicting and confusing goals, and ultimately it suffers both physical and moral degeneration. A military service may at times, of course, perform functions unrelated to external security, such as internal policing, disaster relief, and citizenship training. These are, however, subordinate and collateral responsibilities. A military service does not exist to perform these functions; rather it performs these functions because it has already been called into existence to meet some threat to the national security. A service is many things; it is men, weapons, bases, equipment, traditions, organization. But none of these have meaning or usefulness unless there is a unifying purpose which shapes and directs their relations and activities towards the achievement of some goal of national policy.” -Samuel Huntington. “National Policy and the Trans-Oceanic Navy.” Naval Institute Proceedings Vol. 80, No. 5, May 1954.

An armed service must be able to provide solid justification for its requests to its political masters (and in a representative democracy, those who elect them to office) for a particular share of national resources. It cannot do this if it cannot clearly articulate its strategic purpose.

As Huntington alludes above, though, a service must also explain its strategic purpose to a second and equally important audience: its own rank and file. Its officers and enlisted, from the highest level staffs to the lowest level units, must understand and embrace their individual roles within the service’s corporate body. They must be informed as to which missions, tasks, and skillsets should receive the greatest share of their physical and intellectual energies, not to mention the service’s material and financial resources. A strategic purpose is essentially a form of mission command; it serves as executive guidance by which the service’s “little platoons” at all levels and in all of its organizational branches can self-organize in peace and in war for the betterment of the whole. Without this guidance, Huntington observes, the service will not be able to differentiate how the many things the nation asks it to do—or the many other things it sets forth to do by virtue of its own collective professional expertise—should be prioritized and balanced against each other. The end result of an absence of focused purpose: chaos, confusion, and “physical and moral degeneration” that percolates more-or-less out of view from outsiders until it reveals itself tragically in a moment of national need.

The U.S. Navy’s leadership of the early 1970s evidently feared exactly this kind of decay. A decade of power projection into North and South Vietnam from offshore sanctuaries had certainly educated the Navy as to the technical and tactical intricacies of conducting land-attack strikes in spite of opposition from modern air defense systems. But few of the Navy’s other missions during the Vietnam War paralleled the missions it would need to fulfill in a war against the Soviet Union. And on top of that, the Navy’s division into surface warfare, submarine, and aviation communities—and the subdivisions of each of those communities—made it difficult for the officer corps to view the service’s missions holistically.[1] The service needed a reassertion of its strategic purpose.

This was the role filled by then-VADM Stanfield Turner’s seminal article “Missions of the U.S. Navy” in the March-April 1974 Naval War College Review. His ideas and arguments regarding how the Navy should define its missions speak for themselves. I’m going to quote a few that I found particularly applicable to contemporary maritime strategic questions.

On the flowdown of operational and tactical objectives from a service’s strategic missions:

“Focusing on missions helps tactical commanders to keep objectives in mind. Anti-submarine warfare tacticians often overconcentrate on killing submarines when their ultimate objective is to ensure safe maritime operations. An example of a good sense of objectives was the Israeli achievement of air superiority in the 1967 war. Even though air superiority is traditionally thought of as a function of dogfight tactics, the Israelis recognized that shooting the enemy from the air was not the objective. Destroying Egyptian aircraft was. They employed deep surprise attacks on enemy airfields to successfully achieve this objective.”(Pg. 3)

On the necessary linkages between national strategy, a service’s definition of its missions and the allocation of resources to those missions:

“…an amorphous mass of men, ships, and weapons is difficult to manage because it is difficult for an individual to visualize. By subdividing these masses into their expected output, or missions, we are able to establish priorities for allocating resources—to know how much we are spending for different objectives and to judge their consonance with national strategy.” (Pg. 3)

On sea control as a principal mission of the Navy:

“The new term “Sea Control” is intended to connote more realistic control in limited areas and for limited periods of time. It is conceivable today to temporarily exert air, submarine, and surface control in an area while moving ships into position to project power ashore or to resupply overseas forces. It is no longer conceivable, except in the most limited sense, to totally control the seas for one’s own use or to totally deny them to an enemy.

…Four U.S. national objectives which call for asserting our use of the sea and, by the same token, denial of them to an opponent are:

·         To ensure industrial supplies

·         To reinforce/resupply military forces engaged overseas

·         To provide wartime economic/military supplies to allies

·         To provide safety for naval forces in the Projection of Power Ashore role” (Pg. 7-8)

On blockades as a method for achieving sea control objectives:

“As opposed to the 18^th and 19^th century tactic of forcing a major fleet engagement at sea, today’s blockade seeks destruction of individual units as they sortie. If we assume an opponent will be in control of the air near his ports, sortie control tactics must primarily depend upon submarines and mines.

If successful, sortie control is a most economical means of cutting off a nation’s use of the seas or ability to interfere. Nevertheless, such established techniques have their disadvantages. No blockade is 100 percent successful. Some units may be beyond the blockade when hostilities commence and will remain to haunt opposition forces. Against the enemy’s aircraft there is no static defense. Planes must be bombed at their bases. Thus we must conclude that blockades are weapons of attrition requiring time to be effective. But the lesson of history is perhaps the most instructive of all—ingenious man has usually found ways to circumvent blockades.” (Pg. 8)

On the use of deception to perform sea control tasks:

“Assertive Sea Control objectives do not necessarily demand destruction of the enemy’s force. If the enemy can be sufficiently deceived to frustrate his ability to press an attack, we will have achieved our Sea Control objective.” (Pg. 9)

On the relationship between sea control capabilities and deterrence:

“The perceptions of other nations of our Sea Control capability relative to that of other major powers can influence political and military decisions. What any nation says about its capabilities influences the challenges that are offered or accepted.” (Pg. 9)

On the operational-strategic relationship between sea control and power projection (underlined text is my emphasis):

“…we would note that only a fine distinction separates some aspects of the Sea Control and Projection of Power Ashore missions. Many weapons and platforms are used in both missions. Amphibious assaults on chokepoints or tactical airstrikes on enemy airbases can be employed as part of the Sea Control mission. Sea-based tactical aircraft are used in Sea Control missions for antiair warfare and against enemy surface combatants. The distinction in these cases is not in the type of forces nor the tactics which are employed, but in the purposes of the operation. Is the objective to secure/deny the use of the seas or is it to directly support the land campaign? For instance, much of the layman’s confusion over aircraft carriers stems from the impression that they are employed exclusively in the Projection of Power Ashore role. Actually, from the Battle of Cape Matapan through World War II, aircraft carriers were used almost exclusively to establish control of the ocean’s surface. Today they clearly have a vital role to play in both the Sea Control and Projection of Power missions.” (Pg. 12-13)

On the linkages between naval presence and conventional deterrence:

“In a preventative deployment our force capabilities should be relevant to the kind of problems which might arise and clearly cannot be markedly inferior to some other naval force in the neighborhood, but can rely to some extent on the implication that reinforcements can be made available if necessary. On the other hand, in a reactive deployment any force deployed needs to possess an immediately credible threat and be prepared to have its bluff called. If another seapower, such as the Soviet Union, is in the area, a comparison of forces will be inevitable.

…the Naval Presence mission is simultaneously as sophisticated and sensitive as any, but also probably the least understood of all Navy missions. A well orchestrated Naval Presence can be enormously useful in complementing diplomatic actions to achieve political objectives. Applied deftly but firmly, in precisely the proper force, Naval Presence can be a persuasive deterrent to war. If used ineptly, it can be disastrous. Thus, in determining presence objectives, scaling forces, and appraising perceptions, there will never be a weapon system as important as the human intellect.” (Pg. 14-15)

When reading Turner’s full discussion of the sea control mission, it’s important to keep in mind that he incorrectly asserted that “full regulation of the seas in wartime” was something that was sought after—and possible—until the advent of the submarine and airplane. As I’ve noted before, Corbettian theory makes clear that such a broad degree of control was never possible in the ancient world let alone in the years leading up to the First World War. Turner was therefore partially mistaken when he wrote that “it is no longer conceivable…to totally control the seas for one’s own use or to totally deny them to an enemy” as that kind of control never was conceivable.

I’m ashamed to admit that although I had read elsewhere how Turner’s article had influenced the Navy’s path towards the Maritime Strategy of the 1980s, until now I had never taken the time to read it (despite its 16 page length). Don’t make my mistake: download it today and read it yourself. Despite being four decades old and its Cold War-era context, there are few points in it that are not still fully relevant to maritime warfare in the 21^st Century.

The views expressed herein are solely those of the author and are presented in his personal capacity. They do not reflect the official positions of Systems Planning and Analysis, and to the author’s knowledge do not reflect the policies or positions of the U.S. Department of Defense, any U.S. armed service, or any other U.S. Government agency.

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[1] John B. Hattendorf. Newport Papers 30: U.S. Naval Strategy in the 1970s—Selected Documents. (Newport, RI: Naval War College Press, 2007), Pg. 31

Observations on CS-21R

It’s taken me a few weeks to find the time to finish reading CS-21R and write up my thoughts. Overall I believe the document does an excellent job articulating how the Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard intend to ‘man, train, and equip’ in this era of uneasy international peace, increasingly revisionist and adversarial great powers, dramatic technological change, and American self-imposed fiscal paralysis. The signals CS-21R sends regarding the importance of being prepared both materially and intellectually for waging major maritime war are exemplary, especially in the sense that our prospects for preventing such a war depend greatly upon that exact preparation. Likewise, CS-21R’s discussions of how the cyber and electromagnetic domains are central to modern warfare—and what steps the sea services will take to ensure their readiness to fight in those domains—are simply outstanding.

Strengths

Here are the items I found particularly commendable:

• Continues 2007 CS-21’s emphasis on international maritime security cooperation. Restates importance of working with longstanding allies, building new partnerships with formally non-aligned states, and even cooperating with competitors where possible on enhancing the security of the global maritime commons. Recognizes allies would play essential roles in major maritime combat, and that further interoperability enhancements are therefore required.

• Cements ADM Greenert’s maxim of “Warfighting First.” Sends unambiguous message that fleet design, operating concept development, platform and system procurement, and force-wide training are to be focused on developing the capabilities needed for waging major maritime war.

• Strong emphasis on maintaining peacetime forward naval presence. Details specific forces that will be deployed (whether permanently or rotationally) in specific regions for certain peacetime missions.

• Addresses the global strategic changes since 2007 CS-21. Chinese and Russian behavior called out as major influences on CS-21R. Chinese and Russian maritime warfare capabilities are clear factors (to those versed in modern maritime warfare concepts, emerging defense technologies, competitors’ orders of battle, etc.) driving the required Navy capabilities and competencies outlined in the document.

• Clearly informed by the Joint Operational Access Concept (JOAC) and Air-Sea Battle/Joint Concept for Access and Maneuver in the Global Commons (JAM-GC). Heavy attention to measures for establishing/restoring/maintaining access to theaters of interest whether during peacetime or war. Advances idea that holistic ‘All Domain Access’ is a core Navy function on par with deterrence, sea control, power projection, and maritime security. Whether one agrees with it being a Navy function or not, it unmistakably indicates that Navy leadership is prioritizing development of capabilities, competencies, and operating concepts that will help overcome access challenges.

• Underscores expectation that future combat (especially in the event of major war) will occur under conditions of intense cyber-electromagnetic opposition. Articulates roles of cyberspace operations, electronic warfare, and command and control warfare in obtaining operational access as well as in defeating adversary forces.

• Articulates the minimum overall fleet size as well as the minimum inventories of major power projection combatant types needed to execute the Maritime Strategy (and by implication national grand strategy) in peacetime and war. Note, though, that this force structure is—by definition—likely right up against the strategic “tipping point” as defined in CNA’s March 2010 study of the same name. James Holmes thoroughly dissects exactly this point in an excellent piece at Real Clear Defense this week.

• Strategic deterrence emphasized as a principal Navy mission.

• Recognizes that projection of power ashore can represent all forms of national power; it is not just physical strikes or amphibious assaults.

• Recognizes that sea control is a precondition for performing power projection tasks.

• Expands details regarding how Marine Corps and Coast Guard will be employed to execute the vision as compared to 2007 CS-21.

“Must” Statements

It is quite revealing to look at what CS-21R lists as imperatives. Unlike “Will” statements that pronounce intentions, a “Must” statement implies requirements imposed on the sea services. Of the five “Musts” in the document, three are directly related to cyberspace operations and electromagnetic warfare:

• “Naval forces must have the resilience to operate under the most hostile cyber and EM conditions.” (Pg. 8)

•  “…we must become more comprehensive in our offensive capability to defeat the system rather than countering individual weapons.” (refers to adversary long-range maritime strike systems, Pg. 21)

• “…the Navy and Marine Corps must maintain a fleet of more than 300 ships, including 11 aircraft carriers, 14 ballistic missile submarines (replaced by 12 Ohio Replacement Program SSBN(X)), and 33 amphibious ships, while the Coast Guard must maintain a fleet of 91 National Security, Offshore Patrol, and Fast Response Cutters.” (Pg. 27)

• “[Naval combatants] “must be complemented by reconfigurable platforms such as the Joint High Speed Vessel, National Security Cutter, and auxiliaries including Large, Medium-Speed Roll-on/Roll-off (LMSR) ships, Dry Cargo/Ammunition (T-AKE) ships, Mobile Landing Platforms (MLP), and the Afloat Forward Staging Base (AFSB).” (Pg. 28)

• “The electromagnetic-cyber environment is now so fundamental to military operations and so critical to our national interests that we must treat it as a warfighting domain on par with sea, air, land, and space.” (Pg. 33)

Concerns

There are countless views on what CS-21R should or should not have contained, should or should not have said, and so forth. You can’t fully satisfy everyone all of the time, myself included.

In his comments on Bryan McGrath’s ID post on CS-21R, John McLain (formerly of OPNAV N51) talks about the numerous revisions that occurred while routing the draft document up the chain and across organizations for review. I’ve done my share of document development and routing, and I fully appreciate John’s point: consensus generally requires tradeoffs and compromises on content. He’s also quite correct that the process for developing a strategy, tracking its implementation, communicating its ideas, and adapting it over time as the strategic environment changes and lessons are learned is just as important as what the product document actually says.

In hopes of contributing to the next iteration of this process, I’ve listed my main critiques of CS-21R below:

• CS-21R seems to assume the reader already agrees with the assertion that forward naval presence is of vital importance to U.S. grand strategy. Though the document summarizes major benefits that flow from presence, it surprisingly does not go to the lengths previous publicly-released U.S. Maritime Strategies did to underscore the case. The 1986 publicly-released Maritime Strategy document was remarkably specific in explaining conventional deterrence’s dependence upon forward presence (examples: limited time available for mobilization, sheer distances to reach theaters of interest, immediate and short-term military balances in theater with emphasis on warfighting capabilities, and need for broad escalation management options). 2007 CS-21 did so as well, albeit to a lesser degree given the strategic environment of the time. The question of whether or not CS-21R should have been more detailed on this topic is not academic, as it is clear that many of America’s political leaders and opinion elites either do not appreciate what is at risk as forward naval presence (and domestic Coast Guard coverage) declines—or loudly refute these risks exist. I would argue that no good opportunity to increase the visibility of one’s case to those open to being convinced (especially by countering critics’ arguments) should ever be rejected. 

• Despite exceptional discussions of how forward presence will be achieved despite insufficient force structure to meet full Combatant Commander demands, there is limited discussion of how this presence will trade against the rest of the fleet’s surge readiness (even if the 2011 Budget Control Act ceilings are repealed). The Optimized Fleet Response Plan is explained, but the issues it mitigates are alluded to rather than spelled out. A non-navalist reader might come away with the incorrect impression that there were no serious trades between forward presence and fleet readiness/reset.

• On that note, there is no discussion of the steps or resources needed to reset the fleet from the maintenance/manning shortfalls of the past decade and the more recent optempo crisis. This is one of the highest priority issues articulated in Navy leadership’s Congressional testimony as well as public statements, but it is surprisingly not addressed in CS-21R.

• CS-21R acknowledges conventional deterrence has requirements, variables, and implications that are distinct from those concerning nuclear deterrence. But unlike the publicly-released 1986 document or 2007 CS-21, CS-21R doesn’t connect how everything else it articulates is informed by basic conventional deterrence principles or otherwise promotes deterrence credibility. The discussions of how naval combatants support conventional deterrence is implicitly power projection-centric; the wording creates an impression that conventional deterrence centers on strike capabilities (and land-attack at that). The importance of sea control to deterrence by denial (examples: war at sea operations, protection of vital sea lanes for allies economic sustenance as well as reinforcement of our and their forward defenses) is overlooked. Additionally, CS-21R does not explain how the forces allocated to each theater of interest will support deterrence beyond simply ‘showing the flag;’ their latent warfighting roles within a theater deterrent are left implicit.

• Beyond platforms supporting strategic deterrence (SSBNs) or heavy conventional power projection (e.g. carriers, amphibious warships), it is left unclear how the rest of the fleet’s platforms trade against each other. SSN and LCS-FF acquisitions are arguably the Navy’s highest priority non-capital combatant programs right now per Navy leadership talking point emphasis, but neither is mentioned explicitly in that context. Nor is there any allusion to what will be sacrificed or what risks will be accepted to make those procurements possible. These considerations will become increasingly important in preparing U.S. maritime strategy for the fiscal pressures that will emerge during the final years of this decade and stretch into the 2020s…regardless of whether the 2011 Budget Control Act ceilings are lifted.

• CS-21R’s discussion of sea control recognizes that the condition reflects local margin of superiority, but it does not note that this condition is generally temporary. It also does not note that sea control is not something sought in and of itself, but rather is sought for discrete operational purposes.

•  Strategic sealift is mentioned but its criticality is not underlined. America’s ability to wage war overseas depends on strategic sealift; this message should not be left implicit.

• Standing peacetime European maritime security and deterrence is clearly being left to European militaries, with contributions from the four BMD-capable DDGs in Rota and forces transiting through EUCOM en route to other theaters. This may be all that is possible given the U.S. Navy’s fleet size and the operational demands in East/Southeast/Southwest Asia. It is also likely consistent with current Defense Planning Guidance. It strikes me as odd, though, for this to be the case in the theater in which the risk of major war is presently highest and conventional deterrence credibility is accordingly most needed. In this light, it is even odder that the section defining how and why the Navy will achieve presence in the European theater does not mention the Russian threat at all (especially when Russian revanchism was mentioned in the global security environment section). Europe is primarily referred to as a bridge for projecting power into other theaters or as a locus for maritime security efforts; in other words a means to an end rather than a set of allies (and a representation of values) that we are committed to defend. Given the fact that European militaries (and especially navies) are struggling for funding and are already far less capable than the U.S. Navy, it is questionable whether this element of CS-21R will endure long if Russian coercion against NATO continues to increase. If this is the case, then there is a gap in CS-21R regarding how trades with presence/operational requirements in other theaters will be managed.

•  The 1986 publicly-released Maritime Strategy was a product of the pre-Goldwater/Nichols era, and so its discussion of how the Navy would move pieces around on the global chessboard in a general war does not carry over into the Combatant Commander-dominant era in which CS-21R resides. But the 1986 document also explained how the Navy’s basic operating concepts provided specific means for achieving strategic ends in a generic major war. It outlined how each element of the fleet would operate together (as well as with Joint and allied forces) within combined arms campaign constructs. That’s still germane today under ‘man-train-equip,’ and it can be argued that it’s a crucial missing piece for justifying the force structure articulated by CS-21R as well as explaining to non-experts (and especially some critics) how a modern combined arms maritime force works.

o   Example: strike is the single explicitly articulated mission for aircraft carriers in CS-21R, even though their roles supporting sea control are arguably just as important. The caption addressing the E-2D Hawkeye’s role in the Navy Integrated Fire Control-Counter Air concept (pg. 20) speaks indirectly to the carrier’s central sea control roles; it is surprising that this was not echoed in the document’s main body narrative.

o   Example: very limited discussion of how the sea services are supported by the Air Force (beyond aerial refueling and intelligence/surveillance/reconnaissance) and the Army (beyond Integrated Air and Missile Defense), or how the Navy supports those services (beyond kinetic and non-kinetic fires, plus intelligence/surveillance/reconnaissance). This could have been used to further connect how CS-21R connects with JOAC and JAM-GC.

My critiques should not be interpreted to detract from the exceptional work done by the CS-21R development team. They have powerfully communicated the message that readiness to deter—and if necessary wage—major war is once again America’s sea services’ paramount priority. They have heralded the idea that 21^st Century seapower will depend in great part on the ability to fight in the cyber and electromagnetic domains. They have upheld the notion that maritime security cooperation remains central to the functioning of the international system.

Job well done.

 

The views expressed herein are solely those of the author and are presented in his personal capacity. They do not reflect the official positions of Systems Planning and Analysis, and to the author’s knowledge do not reflect the policies or positions of the U.S. Department of Defense, any U.S. armed service, or any other U.S. Government agency.