The British and French revamp their forces for the post-cold war world

By LAWRENCE FREEDMAN

he British government's Strategic Defense Review, announced earlier this month, provides a clear indication of the direction of European military thinking. The end of the cold war has already yielded its peace dividend, but while forces are no longer primed to cope with a sudden Warsaw Pact offensive they seem to be as busy as ever. For example, British forces in 1998 have been used to coerce Saddam Hussein to comply with U.N. weapons inspections and have recently been preparing for a possible role in Kosovo--all on top of the heavy demands already being placed on them in Bosnia and the continued presence in Ulster.

The Defense Review assumes that this pattern of activity will continue. The implausibility of a truly threatening Russian military means that there is less need to prepare for a major war in Central Europe and the Eastern Atlantic. But new roles have been found, most of which revolve around protecting the most vulnerable in troubled parts of the world, whether through disaster relief, intervention in conflicts or peacekeeping. For these roles forces must be moved quickly, be able to defend themselves and impose their will, but not necessarily prepared for World War III. For Britain this shift is reflected in further cuts in those frontline forces most geared to a major war, such as tanks, frigates, combat aircraft and nuclear warheads--but increases in manpower and air and sea transport capabilities, and the prospect of building two large aircraft carriers.

France has also announced the latest stage in its defense reform process, begun by President Jacques Chirac in 1996 when he proposed following the British model by ending conscription and concentrating on professional forces. This reflected the problems faced by France when it was unable to muster more than 10,000 troops to fight with its allies during the 1991 Gulf War because of President Francois Mitterrand's ruling that it was inappropriate to use conscripts when the direct security of the state was not at stake. To pay the higher wage bill of a volunteer force, the government must cut back facilities as well as scale down its naval and air forces.

That Britain and France are following similar paths should come as no surprise. Both are permanent members of the Security Council and have been active during the various crises of the last decade, working together particularly closely in Bosnia. They both accept that armed forces should be geared not only to defending rights but also to discharging international responsibilities.

Doing good in the world may be the best way to justify substantial military establishments, but it is not always so easy to put into practice. A French parliamentary committee has recently been agonizing over whether the country's intervention in Rwanda in 1994 did more harm than good. The Dutch worried over whether their forces could have done more to prevent a massacre of Bosnian Muslims in Srebrenica in 1995. In the case of Kosovo it is unclear at the moment what doing good through armed intervention might involve, though doing nothing could mean helplessly watching yet another humanitarian tragedy unfold.

Doing good is a demanding exercise, both militarily and diplomatically. A substantial presence is normally needed to influence the course of a bitter and bloody conflict. Another requirement is a Security Council resolution to demonstrate the support of the international community. These days this means bringing the Russians on board, though their view of doing good rarely involves support for Western military action. The diplomatic picture is further complicated by the U.S. position. The British view is that little can be achieved without American participation, while the French prefer to operate independently of them. Attempts to bring France back into NATO's integrated command structure have faltered, but so has the drive to turn the European Union into an effective defense community. One illustration of this is the tension between France's attachment to its state-owned defense industries and its desire to promote the rationalization of the European defense industry.

The credibility of a strategy geared to the needs of international--rather than purely national--security will be determined by events. Cases may continue to arise where Western nations can agree on what might usefully be done with armed forces, and then do it effectively before the situation has further deteriorated. If so, then eventually a response to every local disturbance will be expected and Western forces will have to expand to cope with new responsibilities. Alternatively major upheavals with potentially calamitous consequences may occur without a serious response, either because of political paralysis in international bodies or because of a lack of appropriate military options. This has happened with Algeria and may yet happen with Kosovo. Too many disillusioning experiences of this nature will make defense budgets even harder to justify. Either way it may be premature to suggest that Britain, France or any other country has yet identified the optimum force structure required for the emerging strategic environment.

Lawrence Freedman is professor of war studies at King's College, London