Military coups

Could it happen here?

A Senior Officer

Last December an article in these columns by Patrick Cosgrave postulated the possibility of a military coup in this country. While this may have been essentially a tongue-in-cheek exercise, some of the ideas and points made within the overall case had certain seeds of truth which must, apparently, have germinated in a number of minds — at least to the extent that it was taken up seriously in the US by William Buckley and alleged in an article by Lord Chalfont in the Times last week that the idea of a military coup is actually being taken seriously. Lord Chalfont's article was headed 'Could Britain be heading for a military coup?' — with a photograph captioned 'Armoured cars at Heathrow — a rehearsal for a coup?' The actual piece itself failed to discuss anything resembling a coup, and, at best, can only be described as an exercise in 'panicmanship.'

The real significance of the appearance of this particular article in this particular paper is that it was, and is, not the only manifestation that some people either seriously believe in the possibility of a coup, or they have a reason for wanting others to believe in the possibility. On the same day that the Times article appeared, a retired air marshal was interviewed on TV about the same possibility although, try as he would, the commentator was unable to get the air marshal to agree on the likelihood of such an eventuality.

Baroness Stocks, when she moved to the cross-benches in the Lords, gave it as her opinion that we could be heading for a military coup. We have to accept that some people are actually saying in all seriousness that the . possibility or probability of such a coup taking place exists.

Let us be clear exactly what is meant by a coup, as opposed to any other form of action which may be taken by the military to restore order.

It can be described in simple terms as the removal of the existing government either by the use of or the threat of force. Examples may be seen in the Chilean coup, which in the eyes of the left was entirely unjustified, and in the Portuguese coup, which appears in the eyes of that same left to be entirely justified. All coups are not all bad, it would seem. A coup in this country would involve the removal of the elected Parliament, and replacement of the rule of Parliament, that is to say the rule of law, by military rule. Note that the rule of law would not and could not be replaced by military law. The importance of this particular point will be returned to later.

However, the military can, in certain circumstances, take over from the civil power. This 'take-over' would in no sense be a coup, and it is vital that people should be aware of the essential difference. British forces have on many occasions come to the aid of the civil power. When this happens, as in Ulster at present, such aid is given within the framework of the law and it is always under the ultimate direction and, control of the civil authorities. Even in an extreme case when martial law is imposed, this too, must be done through the due processes of the civil law. It is quite possible, therefore, that much of the alleged talk about the possibility of a military coup is not about a coup at all, but about the possibility of a situation in which the military would be directed to intervene. Contingency plans do exist for a number of such possible situations, and the military would be failing in its duty if it did not plan for what, in non-military eyes, is the unthinkable. There have been cases in fairly recent times when local police forces have been unable to control events. Fortunately these have been localised affairs.

That the armed services, and the army in particular, must examine their contingencies in the event of these local disturbances becoming more general and more organised, is self-evident. But to relate this form of planning to the possibility of a coup is rather far-fetched, in view of the legal constraints under which the army and its officers and men exist.

The army owes its existence to an Act of Parliament which is passed annually. Legally, if this Act were not passed the army would cease to exist.

Interestingly enough this restriction does not apply to the Royal Navy, but then Cromwell was a soldier and not a sailor.

Every commissioned officer holds the Queen's commission. This commission binds each individual officer and his duty to the Queen and through her to the state. Thus, no matter what party is in power, no matter how unwise the Defence Secretary, the army is loyal to the administration. This fact may not always be appreciated by those acting on the fringe of the political system, but will be attested to by politicians of all major parties. Although every officer holds the Queen's commission, the legal authority by which he exercises discipline upon those over whom he has been placed, whether he be platoon commander, officer commanding, or general officer commanding, is derived not from the Queen but from Parliament. The Army Act has been passed by Parliament and has a legal authority equal to any other Act passed by Parliament. It is not a specially Army-created system of discipline. Military law is as much a part of the law of the land as, for instance, company law, and can only be amended by due constitutional processes.

The legal constraints are not the .only ones under which the serviceman lives. The vast majority of officers serving, and particularly the long-serving regular officers, have a number of personal loyalties which make the possibility of mutiny unlikely, and of a coup unthinkable. The intense loyalty engendered by the British regimental system, while it might produce a (one-eyed) sense of values epitomised in the Argylls' campaign for survival, at the same time ensures that such "disloyalty" will only go so far.

The loyalty that the army is prepared to give to the government of the day can be seen at present in the Northern Ireland situation. What other army in the world would have conducted a campaign for over four years under the direction of the civil power, suffering over 200 dead and more than 1,000 wounded knowing that the (low profile) method of operating upon which the civil power insists was, and still is, the cause in part of the ineffectiveness of the military and of the casualty rate:' The phrase 'I'm on duty target,' is a bitter joke. Bitter it may be, but the duty target still goes out and ' will continue to do so until the government no longer requires him to carry on. Lord Richard Cecil, after he left the service, made eloquent comments on this sad aspect of the Northern Ireland campaign. It has been said in these columns that the continued failure of the Westminster political establishment on both sides of the House to produce a solution is due in part to an extraordinary blindness as to the facts of life in that province (can Mr Rees really have realised that there was such a thing as Ulster nationalism only after the successful Ulster workers' strike?) and may lead to a disaffected regular army. This may well be so, but it will manifest itself not in mutiny or insurrection, but in a falling-off in what is called 'internal recruiting' — that is to say, three-year and six-year men simply won't extend their service. External recruiting would also fall. Officers might resign. But this is neither mutiny nor insurrection.

There is no doubt that the intense sense of loyalty and duty which the average officer feels for his unit and service is a reality. It may sound trite in these days when such qualities are often derided. But it does exist, and, in the end it may well be this sense of a personal commitment to the service, and, through the service, to the state that will ensure that the government of the day can always depend upon the army.

Since the last war there have been a number of occasions when the services have been called upon to aid the civil power. Two of these are of particular interest. In the late 'forties London Transport buses were brought to an almost total halt by a strike: the army was called in and effectively maintained a bus service until the end of the strike — a strike-breaking exercise which, at the time, had the broad backing of the public. The second example of a strike-breaking attempt was when the army, against its advice, was put into the power stations in the recent Ulster workers' strike. This latter exercise was a failure, in that the strike succeeded in its objectives.

The fascinating coincidence between these two operations is that the army was used against organised labour by a socialist government. If the pattern of industrial action for political ends which has been twice successful within the last year, first by the miners, and then by the Ulster workers, is to continue, the possibility in a time of economic stagnation, rising prices and unemployment of such action becoming more organised, more widespread and more violent must be faced.

But talk Of a possible military coup is unwise; not because it is untrue, but because it could engender a lack of confidence in the minds of those politicians who may, in the not too distant future, have to decide whether or not to use the forces in aid of a civil power. A Labour government of the future may not be able to count on the loyalty of the unions — indeed who can? It must, however, always be able to count on the loyalty of the services, and of the army in particular. This I believe it can do.