Document created: 13 January 04
Air University Review,
March-April 1972
How can man cope with the endless escalation of nuclear terror? Where has he erred? Where lies the responsibility for the present insecurity? What are the solutions? These questions are not by any means new or unique. Authorities and pseudoauthorities of virtually every discipline and profession have produced such a spate of material on the cold war for nearly a generation that we beg, like the Irishman engulfed in the darkness of the raging storm, “Please Lord, more light and less wind!”
The arguments advanced in the three books here considered are illustrative of the varied methodologies and conclusions. The writers, who have excellent credentials pertinent to their topics and who have published other works of this genre, dramatize the Soviet-American confrontation as the heart of the matter, just as most others have done. Nevertheless, their assumptions, assessments, and solutions, in the quest for understanding, often differ radically.
Two of the writers, Anatol Rapoport* and George H. Quester,** believe an understanding of the troubled years since 1945 and of international relations in general is best achieved through mathematical, modular, “systemic” analysis that recognizes the importance of economic considerations. Professor Quester, of Cornell University and formerly a member of the Center for International Affairs at Harvard, explains that his analysis rests upon a rational economic bias, that he views the arms race not as “a string of aimless and blundering accidents” but as a series of deliberately planned steps by both superpowers. Rapoport’s methodology appears very similar. Educated in Europe and America and now teaching at the University of Toronto, Professor Rapoport wishes to project a system governed by laws in which “the decisions sum into a grand ‘resultant force’ whose magnitude and direction derive from the nature of the system and from its interaction with other systems. . . .” Despite this apparent agreement as to scientific, rational principles, there are fundamental differences in their views. Quester is concerned with the “objective environment” (the reality?) in which statesmen and strategists formulate their decisions. Rapoport, however, emphasizes that it is not the reality but the perceptions of reality that are important. In an argument reminiscent of Plato’s parable of the cave, he insists that, as with those prisoners, the perceptions the “Big Two” have of themselves and of each other are more important than the reality of international relations.
*Anatol Rapoport, The Big Two: Soviet-American Perceptions of Foreign Policy (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1971, hardcover $6.95, paperback $2.95), 249 pages.
**George H. Quester, Nuclear Diplomacy: The First Twenty-Five Years (New York: Dunellen, 1970, $10.00), xxi and 327 pages.
Another approach to modern international affairs is that presented by James E. McSherry, formerly of the State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research, whose interpretations are predicated on the importance of the ideological issues and on the role of individual national leaders.* His writings are akin to the “great man” school of historiography and perhaps reflect a modern echo of Von Holst’s “devil-theory” of war. McSherry discovers the origin and outcome of international crises in the deliberate policies of President John F. Kennedy and Premier Nikita Khrushchev.
* James E. McSherry, Khrushchev & Kennedy in Retrospect (Palo Alto, California: Open-Door Press, 1971, $8.95), 233 pages.
Each of the three writers recognizes the crucial nature of the Berlin and Cuban questions in the Soviet-American confrontation. The American determination to remain in Berlin was dramatically expressed by the 1948 airlift, and controversy over that city has recurred several times. Later, the missile question in Cuba was another matter: not a lengthy dispute but an incident which, if not swiftly resolved, threatened to end in nuclear holocaust. An examination of the treatment of those two episodes affords considerable insight into the writers’ views of the origin and nature of the cold war.
In that respect Rapoport is a severe critic of American policy. While he argues that both the Soviets and Americans have “perverted” their revolutionary ideals and have swung increasingly toward “realist” views of international relations, he apparently believes that the shift has more adversely affected American foreign policy.
In its perception of the Soviet Union as an evil state espousing world Communism, the United States, according to Rapoport, failed to appreciate how the reality of Soviet interest had changed. The professor insists that Stalin’s primary concern in the organization of the postwar world was security. Therefore, he lost interest in the expansion of Communism and sought a sphere of influence only to consolidate the Soviet Union and his own power. Rapoport minimizes the ambitions of the U.S.S.R. beyond that sphere of influence and declares that Stalin’s demands (e.g., for a voice in the disposition of Italian colonies) were made solely for bargaining purposes. Not only had the Soviet appetite for expansion abated but, he declares, Stalin feared other Communist states and, therefore, by 1948 had abandoned his efforts to impose a Communist unity on Germany.
Despite his recognition of the importance of the Berlin question, Rapoport believes that it was really a false “issue.” The city lacked economic or strategic importance, nor was it the cultural or political heart of the German nation in quite the sense of either Paris or Moscow. It was not the reality but the perception of the city that was important; “the real object of the struggle was not about Berlin but about who was going to have his way about Berlin.” That conception of the Berlin matter is important for an understanding of Rapoport’s conclusions. The United States, in its perception of international relations, was motivated by what he defines as a “Clausewitzian” view, a “realist” appraisal that depicted the world arena as one of sovereign nation-states thirsting for power and dominance. Success was reckoned by imposing one’s will upon the other; thus the most vital national force was military capability. Therefore, although a stalemate had been reached in Europe by 1948, American policymakers continued to project that contest of will, and after Stalin’s death they rejected Soviet efforts to settle the cold war. Rapoport maintains that the United States should have accepted the Soviet declarations of satisfaction with their own deterrent strength as evidence of their good intentions. Unfortunately, the belligerency of John Foster Dulles and the decision to rearm West Germany pressured the U.S.S.R. toward a more forceful policy.
Later, when the Berlin question again came to the fore under Khrushchev, Rapoport attributes no malice to his policy. Instead he insists that the Soviet premier provoked the issue in order to resolve the cold war. Khrushchev was determined to solidify his position in Russia, and he staked everything on a policy of coexistence. Seizing the initiative after the 1961 Vienna meeting with Kennedy, he resumed atmospheric nuclear testing, erected the Berlin wall, and forcefully declared his intention to sign a treaty with East Germany by the end of the year. For success he required some concession from the West, but unfortunately, rues Rapoport, America stood firm, and Khrushchev, forced to retreat in Germany, turned to Cuba as his last resort.
As with Berlin, Rapoport holds that the missile sites were not the real issue in the Cuban question. He denies that the missiles had any military purpose, contending that they were worthless for the strategic defense of the U.S.S.R. and of no offensive value in any Soviet war with America as they would be the first targets destroyed. Instead they were a political measure intended to force American retreat elsewhere. As such they represented a last desperate effort of Khrushchev for some concession to convince the Russians that coexistence was a feasible policy. Why else, asks Rapoport, were they constructed without concealment?
Throughout Rapoport’s account, the emphasis is on the mistaken American perceptions of itself, of Russia, and of international relations. He believes that American policy is formulated by an arrogant, antidemocratic de facto elite (the familiar military-industrial bogeyman), whose decisions lead to conflict. The impetus to American aggressiveness resides, as Lenin’s systemic analysis of imperialism states, not in diplomatic intrigue or ideological conviction “but in the dynamics of capitalist economics,” which, together with the absolute imperative of “power” and “will” in its Clausewitzian approach, has placed national reliance upon military strength as the basis of foreign policy.
Diametrically opposed to this interpretation is the account of McSherry. Where Rapoport in virtually every instance is able to exonerate or condone Soviet tactics, McSherry declares that it was Khrushchev’s blatant hostility that forced American reaction. For example, rather than accept the argument that Khrushchev’s moves in Berlin were indicative of his shaky authority at home, McSherry maintains that after Marshal Zhukov had been shunted aside in 1958 the premier’s position was secure and that by 1961 he had already taken on a “father image.” The motivations for Khrushchev’s initiative in Berlin and Cuba came not from insecurity but from his success at home, which encouraged him to unwarranted aggressiveness abroad. McSherry believes that the Soviet leader, sensing irresolution in the youthful Kennedy, moved to destroy American credibility in both Europe and the Americas as a dramatic way to shift the balance of power.
While Rapoport criticized American policy for failing to grant any concessions, McSherry insists that significant concessions were made in Berlin, including acceptance of the wall and a more restricted military and diplomatic entry into the city in 1961, as well as troop reductions there two years later. Yet those actions brought no indication of Soviet readiness to discuss mutual resolution of the existing antagonisms seriously, and the only way to relieve Soviet pressure proved to be through forceful countermeasures. When Khrushchev saw that he had achieved all he could at the time in Berlin without unduly risking war, he then shifted attention to Cuba, believing that if he could demonstrate American unwillingness to face Soviet encroachment there the reward would be equivalent to an American surrender in Berlin. Once he saw the United States respond only weakly to the movement of Soviet troops and bombers to Cuba and to the signing of a Soviet-Cuban treaty providing a port for servicing Soviet trawlers, he decided on the installation of missiles in Cuba. In fact, McSherry concludes that on the whole Kennedy gave ground too easily and that in the Cuban missile crisis he erred in accepting Khrushchev’s first offer without insisting on an easing of Soviet pressure elsewhere.
These single-sided interpretations are quite different from the restrained writing of Quester, who accepts that both superpowers may have been dissatisfied with their policies but felt trapped in “a game-theoretic prisoner’s dilemma.” He accepts, as does Rapoport, the conclusion that the Soviets had long been uninterested in German unification. Nevertheless, he views the Berlin confrontation initiated by Khrushchev from a broader perspective than either Rapoport or McSherry. Admitting that Khrushchev’s gambit was regarded in America as evidence of his interest in undermining American credibility, he also suggests that the Soviets were greatly concerned about the weakness of the East German regime and the possibility of its collapse.
It was into that troubled atmosphere of 1961 that Khrushchev interjected his warning that local wars could escalate into general conflagrations, meanwhile affirming his support of wars of national liberation. While his warning may have been intended as an acceptance of the status quo, his other comment seemed to presage a new wave of worldwide Soviet commitment. Quester appreciates the difficulty of formulating policy to cope with this “carrot and stick” approach of the Soviets. There was no assurance that they would not go ahead with the threats to blockade Berlin, and the tank-to-tank confrontations there made it apparent that the prestige of the new American President, as well as the fate of Berlin, was at stake. The result was an escalation of military force on both sides. Forty thousand American troops were sent to Berlin, B-47 aircraft slated for withdrawal from the strategic fleet were retained, and the NATO powers supported the United States in building up conventional forces in Europe. At the same time the Soviets built up their forces and conducted Warsaw Pact war games for the first time. In addition, Khrushchev resumed nuclear testing (mentioned by Rapoport), pointed out the capability of Soviet missiles against Western Europe, and revealed new prototype bombers. The situation finally cooled as both sides gave ground. The United States accepted the wall and no longer exercised the right of entry into East Berlin without submission to East German passport control, while the Soviets settled for those concessions and made no further moves toward an East German treaty.
Again with Cuba, Quester demonstrates a greater capacity for conceding right and wrong on both sides. In reviewing a variety of possible reasons for Soviet deployment of missiles abroad, he makes no effort to unravel the mystery of motive but passes on to what he considers the more critical question of timing: Why was Khrushchev in such haste to build the bases? Noting, as does Rapoport, the lack of preparations for air defense or camouflage, he asks whether Khrushchev was merely impatient, or indifferent—not expecting the United States to react, or inviting discovery in anticipation that it would lead to American concessions elsewhere? Unfortunately, while Quester raises that question, he does not answer it.
What Quester finds most difficult to understand is the dramatic reaction in the United States, for he, too, concludes that the missiles presented no serious military threat. The answer, he believes, lies in American politics: the Kennedy administration’s strident insistence on unquestioned nuclear superiority meant that it could not accept the missiles.That adamant position was the result of both the campaign pledges of 1960 and the warnings against “offensive” weapons issued in the weeks preceding the crisis. Whatever the motivations of Soviet and American policy, Quester observes that world opinion supported the United States, taking the installation of the missiles as unwarranted nuclear proliferation.
What can our judgment be of these three studies? Are there inherent advantages in “systemic analysis,” or do other methods afford greater understanding? Why is it that supposedly authentic scientific studies result in such different conclusions? Where are the rational “laws” that should have led to a “true” interpretation of the problems of the cold war? I am reminded of one who computerized the Battle of Gettysburg and of his satisfaction that when the program was run the North won once again, thus affirming the accuracy of his game analysis. But I am tempted to believe that, had his program proclaimed the Confederates victorious, he would have been equally pleased, only then he would have argued that the results clearly identified where Lee had erred in 1863.
The arguments of Rapoport are not convincing. One wonders why he has ignored some of the evidence that suggests alternative motivations and would lead to very different conclusions. His single-minded attack on American policy is excessive in light of his own assumptions that both the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. have perverted their idealism and substituted realistic appraisals of international relations; that both governments are tyrannies controlled by antidemocratic elites hand-in-hand with the military. Yet, most peculiarly, out of that common background Rapoport projects a constant pattern of American aggressiveness and Soviet defensiveness. Moreover, he is at times unduly sardonic, as in his comments on the hero role of Kennedy during the missile crisis, or in his statement that the crisis “gave the American military the opportunity to enjoy the thrill of their lifetime.”
As for Quester, his analysis may appear more satisfying because it is less partial or emotional and deals more fully with both sides of the questions. Yet how “rational” is his account? It hardly seems realistic to seek the “environmental factors” and yet dismiss “ideological fanaticism” as possibly unimportant. Moreover, must international relations be modeled on American political changes? With the exception of the final chapter, Quester’s organization of material is based upon the consecutive Presidential administrations. For example, chapter one, “The U.S. Monopoly: 1945-1949 [Truman’s first administration]”; chapter two, “The Monopoly Eliminated: 1949-1953 [Truman’s second term]”; etc. Would it not have been equally rational and meaningful for Quester to construct his model around Soviet changes in leadership? And how might that have affected the conclusions? Furthermore, with the restriction of data because of security and other reasons (Quester, for example, finds it necessary to conjecture the levels of nuclear weapons stockpiles, a critical factor in evaluating nuclear capability) and limited Soviet information, it would seem extremely difficult to construct a model properly evaluating American and Soviet potential and intention. Louis Gottschalk once defined the historian’s objective as “verisimilitude”—the meaningful re-creation of the past from all available evidence and inference.1 On the other hand Rapoport states that individuals oversimplify perceptions in complex situations requiring decision-making. Perhaps the goal of verisimilitude requires a subtlety that is beyond the reach of a modular, systemic approach.
For many, the problem of data collection precludes definitive judgments. McSherry, however, would disagree, as he maintains that sufficient information is available from official statements, press releases, and “leaks” for accurate analysis of American and Soviet foreign policy. That, however, is debatable. The Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations is among those dissatisfied with the inaccessibility of much American archival material, and it is campaigning for more rapid declassification of documents, hopefully after no more than ten years of secrecy. McSherry’s account also is disappointing in that he, like Rapoport, presents so one-sided a conclusion. They only differ as to which side is always in the wrong. Furthermore, his patronizing style is annoying. While it is invariably “President Kennedy” or at least “Kennedy,” it is never “Jack”; on the contrary, only too often is Khrushchev familiarly dealt with, as in the following constructed quotation (another undesirable feature): “‘OK, young fellow,’ Nikita Sergeyvitch must have thought . . . ‘you want a military base—you’ll get a military base. Let’s see what you do about it!’” Such inventions are unacceptably boorish.
What hopes do these analysts have for the future? What policy recommendations do they offer? Implicitly, of course, Rapoport and McSherry predict little change in the confrontation (be that either of “will” or of ideologies). For America, Rapoport suggests unilateral disarmament along the lines proposed by Charles E. Osgood, although no immediate Soviet response should be expected. Nevertheless, the United States should continue to disarm as an expression of faith until ultimately the Soviets do join in. But Rapoport has no faith that such a solution will be adopted, and he gloomily predicts continued escalation and war. Only revolutionary changes of the social foundations of the American and Soviet systems can remove the power-motivated elites, and he believes that the dissent within the United States may be indicative of the disintegration of this society.
Both Rapoport and Quester are concerned with the dangers of nuclear proliferation, declaring that only the active cooperation of the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. can halt that development. Both sides must avoid mutual insult, and even the slightest makeshift rapprochement must be applauded. Even so, Rapoport is critical of those within the U.S.S.R. who attack Soviet leadership and seek more intimate relations with the U.S. as a counterforce against Mao’s China. McSherry, on the other hand, is not plagued with any uncertainty. Ignoring the fact that Cuba may have been a “Pyrrhic victory for America,” considering the development of Soviet offensive capability which followed,2 he insists that all that is needed is steadfast resolution against any Soviet advances. McSherry applies that argument to Vietnam, stating that had the United States displayed determination the war would have ended in 1968 but that unfortunately the “liberals” undermined that position.
While these accounts, like much previous writing on the cold war, are not definitive, there is much of value here. In particular, Rapoport’s chapter “The Legacy of Clausewitz” is excellent for serious students of international relations.3 And Quester’s discussion of America’s nuclear capability in the immediate postwar years is equally valuable. He has ably drawn upon the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, and he questions the relationship between doctrine and capability, citing the superior defensive ability of air power afforded by radar, jet interceptors, the proximity fuse, and, most important, the limited stockpile of nuclear weapons. The relatively few weapons available by no means could guarantee success through nuclear warfare. Not until 1951 had the arsenal grown to substantial size, yet, with the B-47 only coming into operation, effective delivery by B-29 and B-36 aircraft remained questionable. Furthermore, while the nation may have proclaimed its deterrent nuclear strength, Quester observes that the air strategy provided for both nuclear and conventional bombing and that the targets were primarily industrial and communications centers. Thus, by implication, the targeting system denied the probability of swift nuclear victory but was programmed for a war of attrition.
In conclusion, the merits of these books lie in areas somewhat peripheral to their main arguments (probably less so for Rapoport). We may expect that they will ultimately be used as are the studies of Sidney B. Fay, Bernadotte E. Schmitt, and others who closely examined the cause of World War I; that is, not as the definitive analysis but as important for understanding the intellectual conceptualizations of the twenty-five years since the end of the Second World War.
Wichita State University
Notes
1. Louis Gottschalk, Understanding History: A Primer of Historical Method (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1963), pp. 46-48.
2. The quotation is from Charles Yost, “A Letter to a Soviet Friend,” Life, September 24, 1971. For elaboration of this conclusion see Major William T. Wilson, “A New Vitality in Soviet ‘Defense’ Posture,” Air University Review, XX, 5 (July-August 1969), 78-86.
3. An earlier and more detailed examination of that subject and philosophies of war can be found in Rapoport’s introduction to Clausewitz On War (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1968), pp. 11-80.
Dr. George W. Collins (Ph.D., University of Colorado) is Associate Professor of History, Wichita State University. He served as a bomber navigator during World War II and Korea and later in Strategic Air Command; he then taught navigation and history at USAFA until his retirement in 1968. Dr. Collins has published articles on navigation and history.
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this
document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression,
academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official
position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air
Force or the Air University.
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