Defence priorities
Patrick Cosg rave
'Because', wrote Major-General Sir William Napier in his History of the Peninsular War, 'the English Ministers, so ready to plunge into war, were quite ignorant of its exigencies; because the English people are warlike without being military, and under the pretence of maintaining a liberty they do not possess, oppose in peace all useful martial establishments. . . In the beginning of each war, England has to seek in blood for the knowledge necessary to secure success.'
What Napier wrote in the nineteenth century was true before he wrote it, and has remained true ever since. There has never been a time in the modern history of Britain when we entered a war well prepared, or ducing which, in peace, we took the precautions necessary to secure success in future war. However, the persistence of this carelessness in the Sixties and Seventies carries with it a greater danger to the future freedom and security of the country than ever before. For, in the next war, should one come, and whatever form it took — ranging from limited conventional warfare in Europe to a major nuclear exchange — the one thing we can be sure we will not have is time to prepare after hostilities have begun. Next time there will be no comeback after initial defeat.
It is the certain absence of that time to prepare which we have always hitherto enjoyed — and which has been always increased by the existence of the Channel — that gives particular urgency to consideration of the present dangerous condition of the armed services. Now, while there is a great deal to question both about British strategy and the inability or refusal of Labour governments to invest in modern weapons (there was no mention in the last Defence White Paper of plans for a replacement for our ageing Polaris fleet) the most urgent problem is that of the frightening instability produced in the forces of the Crown by the disastrous economic prospects held out to any young soldier, and even to his elders. Although to the delight of Mr Mulley, the Secretary for Defence, recruiting figures have held up not at all badly, the intake of raw youngsters does nothing effectively to replace the deadly outflow of trained and seasoned personnel. Thus, for example, the 1978-9 rate of applications to leave the Army has risen by 10 per cent over the previous year, and is more than 50 per cent higher than in 1976-7.
The reasons for the phenomenon are not hard to adduce. Last spring the average serviceman's salary was 32 per cent below that of a civilian with comparable training and experience. There have been increases since then, and the presenrgovernment has offered comparability by 1980. But so many and so frequent have been the switches in defence policy, so regular and deep the cuts in expenditure, that the battering which each successive defence review has administered to the armed services has destroyed all stability and confidence for the future: few indeed are the servicemen who believe that things are going to get better.
For this reason, and before one can even begin to think about strategies and tactics, equipment and deployment, it must be clear, that the first requirement for the restoration of military morale is a prolonged period of financial stability and improvement. Whatever the cost to the Exchequer the first charge on an incoming Conservative government is a Service pay increase of about 25 per cent (already recommended by the latest report of the Armed Forces Pay Review Body). Nor would such a move be in the least incompatible with Tory undertakings to reduce public expenditure. Money spent well on defence is the most important charge on public funds; and even Adam Smith, whose influence lies behind much modern Conservative economic thinking, always urged that defence spending should have just such a special place in the financial considerations of the state.
Even so. it will take some years to recreate a sense of confidence in the future on the part of servicemen, and repair the gaps that have opened in their ranks. At the same time, steps must be taken to improve equipment and to put forward procurement on a rational basis. Even the highest of salaries is but little compensation, for example, to an RAF pilot flying patrol in the North Sea and coming up against an intrusive Russian Backfire bomber whichhas no difficulty whatsoever in outpacing him: that is what happens every day now. A princely remuneration, likewise, is little consolation to a British tank commander in the Central European plain who knows that, since the ground redeployment of the last few years, his forces (redistributed and re-arranged to cover the gaps created by successive defence economies) have no realistic prospect of halting a Warsaw Pact thrust. The Germans, indeed, estimate that it would take the'Russians little more than a week to reach Calais. Finally, even the prospect of comparability will do little to repair the bruises to their professional selfesteem inflicted on British soldiers taking part in the recent NATO exercise 'Northern Wedding', who had to make their way to their battle stations either on foot or in unarmoured lorries.
Of course, nobody can seriously propose that Britain can or should seek to match in numbers the new output of Russian munitions factories. What is required, though, is a massive and co-ordinated new initiative on the part of NATO, particularly in the standardisation of weapons procurement. A major and important start on this work was made by the team of Lord Carrington and Sir Ian Gilmour in the 1970 government of Mr Heath; but all their work has now gone to waste. So the task must be begun all over again, and with speed, for it is the view of NATO planners that, unless major strides are taken immediately, the strategic situation in Europe will have changed beyond redemption in favour of the Warsaw Pact by 1985.
Britain is exceptionally fortunate, among its European allies, in the quality of its manpower and in the opportunities for operational training provided by the continuing Northern Ireland crisis. Perhaps it is one of the very few good things to have come out of the wretched history of Ulster in the last decade that our fading army has been able to train its men and refine its techniques in so parlous a situation. But now, as units return to Ireland for eighth and even ninth tours of duty, the strain begins to tell: in the context of general decline the huge challenge Ulster poses ultimately begins to weary the troops.
When stable financial prospects are restored, and when measures are taken to improve equipment. it will be time enough to think about strategy. For certain the most crying demands are for increased armour on the ground, higher performance fighter planes for reconnaissance, a replacement for Polaris, and a much higher emphasis on the build-up of a navy now woefully inadequate for its tasks. As a single and ageing destroyer left Malta the other day, carrying with it the final remnants of British military power in the Mediterranean, the scene was understandably nostalgic and sad. But the sadness did not lie in the departure itself: that was a political matter, something imposed by Mr Mintoff. The sadness lay in the navy's inability to mount any kind of impressive show. In that the withdrawal was symbolic of our reduced status, itself the product of reduced will. It will be a marathon task to reverse the decline, but no more urgent job awaits a new government.
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