Nuclear Reactions a volume in the series Cornell Studies in Security Affairs Edited by Robert J. Art, Robert Jervis, and Stephen M. Walt A list of titles in this series is available at cornellpress. cornell .e du. Nuclear Reactions How Nuclear- Armed States Behave Mark S. Bell Cornell University Press Ithaca and London Copyright © 2021 by Mark Bell This book is freely available in an open access edition thanks to TOME ( Toward an Open Monograph Ecosystem)— a collaboration of the Association of American Universities, the Association of University Presses, and the Association of Research Libraries—a nd the generous support of the University of Minnesota. Learn more at the TOME website, available at: openmonographs . org. The text of this book is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial 4.0 International License (CC BY-N C). To use this book, or parts of this book, in any way not covered by the license, please contact Cornell University Press, Sage House, 512 East State Street, Ithaca, New York 14850. Visit our website at cornellpress .c ornell .e du. First published 2021 by Cornell University Press Library of Congress Cataloging- in-P ublication Data Names: Bell, Mark (Researcher), author. Title: Nuclear reactions : how nuclear-armed states behave / Mark S. Bell. Description: Ithaca [New York] : Cornell University Press, 2021. | Series: Cornell studies in security affairs | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2020036416 (print) | LCCN 2020036417 (ebook) | ISBN 9781501754166 (paperback) | ISBN 9781501754173 (pdf) | ISBN 9781501754180 (epub) Subjects: LCSH: Nuclear weapons—Political aspects. | International relations. | World politics. | Balance of power. Classification: LCC JZ5665 .B44 2021 (print) | LCC JZ5665 (ebook) | DDC 327.1/12—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020036416 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020036417 For Rowan Contents List of Illustrations ix Acknowl edgments xi List of Abbreviations xv Introduction: How Do New Nuclear States Behave? 1 1. Nuclear Opportunism: How States Use Nuclear Weapons in International Politics 9 2. Ind ep en dence and Status: The British Nuclear Experience 36 3. Apartheid and Aggression: South Africa, Angola, and the Bomb 78 4. The Foundations of a New World Order: The United States and the Start of the Nuclear Era 112 5. Past and F uture Proliferators 147 Conclusion: Nuclear Revolution or Nuclear Revolutions? 164 Notes 175 Index 209 vii Illustrations T able 3.1. South African military operations in Angola before and after nuclear acquisition 97 Figures 0.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism 6 1.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism and empirical predictions 21 1.2. Predictions for states facing serious territorial threats or engaged in war 22 1.3. Predictions for states not facing serious threats but with se nior allies 24 1.4. Predictions for rising states not facing serious threats 26 1.5. Predictions for declining states not facing serious threats 27 2.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to Britain, 1955 41 2.2. MIDs involving Britain over time 51 3.1. Southern Africa 82 3.2. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to South Africa, 1979 86 ix IllustratIons 4.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to the United States, wart ime 116 4.2. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to the United States, postwar 117 x Acknowl edgments This book would not have been started, let alone finished, without a g reat many people. While I was an undergraduate at Oxford, Nigel Bowles and Paul Martin encouraged my interest in the academic study of politics. I would not have considered pursuing gradu ate studies in po litic al science (let alone actually done so) without their influence or advice. At Harvard Kennedy School, where I spent two years getting a masters in public policy while also com- ing to the conclusion that I wanted a c areer in academia rather than in pol- icy, Matt Bunn inspired the interest in nuclear issues that motivated me to pursue a PhD and that sustained this entire proje ct. At MIT, I could not have asked for better advisers. Barry Posen engaged with every nut and bolt of the argument in this book and offered line-b y- line comments on multiple iterations of the work. The quality and impact of his scholarship is a model that I w ill only ever aspire to meet; his demand that scholars tackle import ant questions is one I w ill continue to seek to live up to. Vipin Narang’s mentorship and advice were critical, and he continues to be a first port of call for advice on negotiating academia. Taylor Fravel’s suggestions substantially increased the clarity of the argument and writing throughout, and his questions and comments have consistently cut to core theoretical and empirical issues. Last but not least, the intellectual influence of Frank Gavin runs throughout this book. His commitment to bringing histori- ans and po litic al scientists together has had a profound influence on my own work. Collectively, t hese individuals provided a level of expertise on nuclear issues that would have been impossible to assemb le at almost any other insti- tution, but the personal support and advice they provided at every turn have perhaps been even more valuable. xi acknowl edgments Similarly, the tight- knit community of gradu ate students and the predoc- toral and postdoctoral fellows at MIT provided intellectual stimulation, en- couragement, and friendship. Among many o thers, Dan Altman, Noel Anderson, Paul Avey, Chris Clary, James Conran, Fiona Cunningham, Gene Gerzhoy, Brendan Rittenh ouse Green, Brian Haggerty, Peter Krause, Julia Macdonald, Tim McDonnell, Nicholas Miller, Rohan Mukherjee, Reid Pauly, Josh Shifrinson, Peter Swartz, Joseph Torigian, Rachel Whitlark, Alec Worsnop, and Yiqing Xu deserve part icu l ar thanks. Many other scholars generously gave their time, advice, and comments at vario us stages in the proc ess. They include William Boettscher, Hal Brands, Målfrid Braut-H egghammer, Matthew Bunn, James Cameron, Andrew Coe, Alex Downes, Peter Feaver, Matthew Fuhrmann, Charlie Glaser, Ryan Grauer, Kelly Greenhill, David Holloway, Jacques Hymans, Peter Katzen- stein, Peter Krause, Matthew Kroenig, Keir Lieber, Sean Lynn- Jones, Marty Malin, Rupal Mehta, Alex Montgomery, Steve Miller, Rich Nielsen, Benoît Pelopidas, Evan Perkoski, Mike Poznansky, Brad Roberts, Sebastian Rosato, Joshua Rovner, Scott Sagan, Rob Schub, Todd Sechser, Keith Shimko, Etel Solingen, Caitlin Talmadge, Nina Tannenwald, Monica Toft, Stephen Van Evera, Anna- Mart Van Wyk, Jane Vaynman, Stephen Walt, Nicholas Wheeler, and Cat Worsnop. This book was completed at the University of Minnesota, which has proved to be a wonderfully supportive intellectual home. I have benefited hugely from the insights, advice, friendship, and support of many colleagues, in- cluding Cosette Creamer, Bud Duvall, Paul Goren, James Hollyer, Tanisha Fazal, John Freeman, Helen Kinsella, Ron Krebs, Howie Lavine, Dan My- ers, Rob Nichols, Kathryn Pearson, Michelle Phelps, David Samuels, Jane Sumner, and Josef Woldense. The Pol itic al Science Department provided the resources that enabled me to host a book workshop in November 2017, at which Hal Brands, Scott Sagan, Etel Solingen, and Nina Tannenwald, along with Bud, Ron, and Nisha, both took the book apart and provided a path forward to put it back together. Jen Spindel took notes throughout, and her forty-p age summary of all the suggestions made was enormously helpful as I reconstructed and redrafted the manuscript. Thanks are also due to two undergraduate students, Cheyenne Tretter, who provided exceptional re- search and editorial assistance at several diff er ent stages, and Josh Mohling, who copyedited the entire manuscript. In addition to the MIT Pol itic al Science Department and Security Studies Program, and the University of Minnesota’s Po liti cal Science Department and College of Liberal Arts, generous financial support for this proj ect was provided by the Harvard Belfer Center’s International Security Program and Proj ect on Managing the Atom, the Smith Richardson Foundation, and the Tobin Proje ct. The staff at all t hese institutions, including, among o thers, Susan Twarog, Joli Divon Saraf, Casey Johnson, Diana Gallagher, Josh Anderson, Susan Lynch, Alexis Cuttance, Tia Phan, Kyle Edwards, and Sara xii acknowl edgments Flannery, provided administrative support that was a model of efficiency and allowed me to focus on research. At Cornell University Press, Roger Haydon has diligently and patiently handled my queries throughout the review and publication proc ess, and I also thank the reviewers and editors of the Security Affairs series for their thoughtful and incisive comments on the manuscript. Amron Gravett com- piled the index and Mike Bechthold produced the map in chapter 3. Portions of this book draw on previously published articles in International Security and Journal of Strategic Studies.1 I thank MIT Press and Taylor and Francis for the permission to reprint this content. My deepest debts are those nearest to home. My family has been encour- aging, inspiring, caring, and loving. My brother and sister have supported me even though I have been mostly absent and have seen them far less than I would want over the past few years. My parents have encouraged me un- conditionally at every turn despite my being so far from home. They inspired my love of learning and intellectual curiosity about the world and are mod- els of parenting. I am more grateful than they know for every thing they have done for me, and I w ill keep trying to make them proud. It seems deeply inadequate that I can only offer them my gratitude. Sarah’s love, commitment, and support have been unyielding. I could not ask for a better partner. Her loyalty, compassion, and understanding have made me a better person. Our daughter Rowan arrived with impeccable tim- ing the day after I submitted the manuscript to Cornell for review, and she has transformed and enriched our lives in more ways than I can describe. This book is dedicated to her. xiii Abbreviations AIOC Anglo- Iranian Oil Com pany ANC African National Congress ANZUS Australia, New Zealand, United States Security Treaty APOC Anglo- Persian Oil Comp any ARAMCO Arabian American Oil Com pany ASEAN Association of Southeast Asian Nations BDEE British Documents on the End of Empire CENTO Central Treaty Organ ization CHUR Churchill Archives, Cambridge, United Kingdom CIA Central Intelligence Agency CIAA US Central Intelligence Agency Archives CINC Composite Index of National Capabilities DIRCO South Africa Department of International Relations and Co-o peration Archives, Pretoria, South Africa DNSA Digital National Security Archive FAPLA People’s Armed Forces for the Liberation of Angola FRUS Foreign Relations of the United States GDP gross domestic product GNP gross national product HEU highly enriched uranium ICBM intercontinental ballistic missile IMF International Monetary Fund IRBM intermediate range ballistic missile JCS Joint Chiefs of Staff MID militarized interstate dispute MK Umkhonte we Sizwe xv lIst of abbrevIatIons MOD United Kingdom Ministry of Defence MPLA Popul ar Movement for the Liberation of Angola NATO North Atlantic Treaty Organi zation NATOSD NATO Strategy Documents NIC National Identity Conception NPT Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Nuclear Weapons NSA National Security Archive NSC National Security Council OAU Organisation of African Unity OPC Office of Policy Coordination PLAN P eople’s Liberation Army of Namibia PPPUS Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States PRC P eople’s Republic of China RAF Royal Air Force REAG Reagan Presidential Library, Simi Valley, California SADF South African Defence Force SEATO South East Asia Treaty Organi zation SWAPO South West African People’s Organ ization TRUM Truman Presidential Library, Ind ep end ence, Missouri UKHoP Rec ords of the United Kingdom Houses of Parliament (Hansard) UKNA United Kingdom National Archives, Kew, United Kingdom UN United Nations UNITA National Union for the Total In dep end ence of Angola USSR Union of Soviet Socialist Republics WWCDA Woodrow Wilson Center Digital Archive xvi Nuclear Reactions Introduction How Do New Nuclear States Behave? In 1963, a US National Intelligence Estimate attempted to assess how Chi- na’s foreign policy would change if it acquired nuclear weapons.1 One para- graph offered a sanguine assessment, arguing that it was unlikely that “the acquisition of a l imited nuclear weapons capability would produce major changes in Communist China’s foreign policy.” The very next paragraph, however, argued that nuclear weapons would affect Chinese foreign policy in import ant ways, stating that “the Chinese would feel very much stronger [if they acquired nuclear weapons] and this mood would doubtless be re- flected in their approach to conflicts on their periphery. . . . T he tone of Chi- nese policy would proba bly become more assertive.” This contradiction did not go unnoticed: a footnote inserted by the acting director of intelligence and research declared that t hese two statements were “somewhat inconsis- tent” with each other. Today, policymakers engage in similar debates about newly nuclear states and other states that may acquire nuclear weapons in the future. How do North K orea’s nuclear weapons influence its foreign pol- icy t oday? How might Iran behave if it were to acquire nuclear weapons? How about Saudi Arabia? If US allies such as South Korea or Japan were to acquire nuclear weapons in the future, how would their foreign policy t oward the United States change? The answers to these questions matter greatly. Devising policies or strate- gies to deal with new nuclear- armed states hinges on understanding how they are likely to behave a fter acquiring nuclear weapons. A state that is likely to use nuclear weapons to engage in aggression demands dif fer ent po- liti cal and military strategies from the United States and the international community than if nuclear acquisition is likely to make the state more peace- ful. More broadly, determining the pol itic al, economic, or military costs that countries should be prepared to pay to prevent nuclear proliferation hinges on assessing how nuclear weapons affect the beh av ior of the states that ac- quire them and how dangerous those effects are. If states typically expand 1 IntroductIon their interests in world politics or act more belligerently after acquiring nu- clear weapons, preventing nuclear acquisition should be a higher priority than if nuclear weapons do not much affect the foreign policies of the states that acquire them. This book seeks to answer these questions. Despite their importance, there is l ittle consensus among scholars or analysts about the answers to them. For example, how would Iran’s foreign policies change if it acquired nuclear weapons? Some argue that nuclear weapons would embolden Iran to in- crease its support for proxy or terrorist groups and that it would use nu- clear weapons to coerce and intimidate other states in the region.2 Others are more relaxed, arguing that Iran’s power within the Middle East would remain largely unchanged if it acquired nuclear weapons, and that Ira nian efforts at nuclear coercion would be unlikely to work.3 Indeed, disagree- ments about t hese questions are unsurprising given the variety of ways that states have historically used nuclear weapons to pursue their po liti cal goals. For example, consider the case of Pakistan. By threatening the early use of nuclear weapons in any conflict, Pakistan has used nuclear weapons as a shield to deter Indian retaliation, enabling Pakistan to pursue low-l evel aggression and subversion against India with the goal of achieving long- standing revisionist goals in Kashmir and elsewhere.4 By contrast, the United Kingdom used nuclear weapons very differently when it acquired them in the 1950s. As I discuss in detail in chapter 3, instead of engaging in aggression, Britain used nuclear weapons to try to hold on to what it had: to reassure allies that w ere increasingly skeptical of Britain’s ability to come to their aid, to resist challenges to its position, and to act more ind ep end ently of the United States. Or consider the United States. In the aftermath of World War II, with the international system in profound flux, a newly nuclear United States put in place a globe- spanning network of alliances and mili- tary bases wholly at odds with its prior history of avoiding entangling alli- ances and staying out of Eu ro pean conflicts. Nuclear weapons allowed the United States to expand its commitments while sim ul ta neously demobiliz- ing its armed forces after World War II. With its nuclear arsenal, the United States could maintain (and take on) alliance commitments around the world without deploying the conventional military forces that would previously have been needed to make such commitments credible. These three states, in very diff ere nt strategic environments, used nuclear weapons in very dif- fer ent ways to advance very dif fere nt foreign policy goals. Can we explain this variation in the historical rec ord? Existing Explanations What do we currently know about how states change their foreign policy when they acquire nuclear weapons? Unfortunately, existing explanations 2 IntroductIon do not get us very far. The most prominent and elegant account of how nu- clear weapons affect international politics is the theory of the nuclear revo- lution. While diff er ent scholars offer somewhat diff ere nt interpretations of the nuclear revolution, the core argument is that nuclear weapons and the condition of mutual assured destruction transform the nature of interna- tional politics.5 The theory of the nuclear revolution was designed to apply to the interactions between states with secure second-s trike capabilities and did not, therefore, directly seek to explain the foreign policies of nuclear- armed states more broadly. Despite this, the logic of the theory, and the mechanisms it identifies, means that the theory contains within it import ant insights and implications for how states should use nuclear weapons within their foreign policies. First, theorists of the nuclear revolution argue that nuclear weapons make states more secure. The scale of destruction that nuclear weapons can inflict, the relative ease with which states can secure the ability to strike back after an initial attack (that is, achieve a second-s trike capability), and the impos- sibility of defending against a nuclear attack mean that nuclear weapons of- fer a powerf ul deterrent against the most import ant security threats that states face: invasion or other major attacks.6 Not only are they excellent tools of deterrence, but theorists of the nuclear revolution argue that nuclear weap- ons do not offer equivalent offensive benefits to the states that possess them. As a result, nuclear weapons tilt the advantage away from the offense and t oward the defense: they “give defenders a large advantage”7 and “cre- ated a revolution for defense advantage.”8 In short, nuclear weapons are pri- marily (and perhaps exclusively) defensive weapons. However, the claim that nuclear weapons deter other states does not by itself answer how nuclear weapons affect the foreign policy of the state ac- quiring nuclear weapons. If nuclear weapons provide deterrent or defensive benefits, how do the states that acquire nuclear weapons respond to that ad- ditional security? Theorists of the nuclear revolution tend to make a po liti- cal judgment about how states should respond to the additional security pro- vided by the deterrent effect of nuclear weapons. B ecause security is the first goal of states living in an anarchic international system in which they must fend for themselves and insecurity is a core driver of the more belliger- ent actions that states take in international politics, nuclear weapons should make states less inclined to compete for security, power, or allies or to engage in belligerent or aggressive foreign policies.9 Thus, although the theory of the nuclear revolution primarily seeks to explain how nuclear-a rmed states should engage with each other, rather than how nuclear- armed states should behave more broadly, the theory does imply that nuclear-a rmed states should be generally more peaceful because nuclear weapons solve their core secu- rity needs. States with secure second-s trike capabilities simply do not need to engage in provocative or belligerent be havi or to secure territory, re- sources, or alliances or improve the conventional balance of power. For 3 IntroductIon advocates of the nuclear revolution, for example, nuclear weapons “pro- vide [states] with security and reduce their incentives to wage war in the quest for security.”10 They “should allow the super-p owers to take a more relaxed attitude t oward events in third areas, including the [nonnuclear] third world,” meaning that “it makes less sense to fight to control or destroy bases, territory, or military or economic resources.”11 Similarly, states with secure second- strike capabilities should not worry about competing for al- lies: “In the nuclear era, security is provided by second- strike capability; defections by allies are therefore less damaging,” or, more bluntly, “nuclear weapons make alliances obsolete.”12 Ultimately, the power ful conclusion of the theory of the nuclear revolu- tion is that a nuclear- armed world is safer and more peaceful than one in which conventionally armed states must compete for security at e very turn: nuclear weapons reduce or even “eliminate the security dilemma” that drives distrust among states seeking only to defend themselves;13 “reduce the ex- tent of the gains one can seek” in international politics;14 make the status quo “relatively easy to maintain”;15 reduce the importance of the conventional military balance and the incentives for arms races;16 “clear the fog of war” and “lower false optimism” about the outcomes of wars, thus reducing the possibility of miscalculation;17 and “make states more cautious.”18 Although it offers a power ful explanation for the absence of great power war in the nuclear era, the theory of the nuclear revolution does not get us very far in explaining how states change their foreign policies when they ac- quire nuclear weapons. Most importantly, the theory makes a single, power ful prediction, and it therefore implies that nuclear weapons should have the same effect on all states that possess them. However, as discussed above, when we look at the historical reco rd, there is considerable variation in how states have changed their foreign policies after acquiring nuclear weapons. The theory of the nuclear revolution cannot explain this variation. Further, even advocates of this theory acknowledge that states have often not behaved according to its prescriptions. Robert Jervis, for example, de- scribes US nuclear strategy as “illogical” because it “seeks to repeal the nu- clear revolution rather than coming to grips with [it],” while Charles Glaser and Steve Fetter argue that US Cold War nuclear strategy “diverg[ed] s ignificantly from the policies implied by the powerf ul logic of the nuclear revolution.”19 Other theories also fail to explain the variation we see in the historical rec- ord for a diff ere nt reason: they focus on explaining a single foreign policy be hav ior that nuclear weapons can facilitate. In par ticu lar, scholars have ex- amined when nuclear acquisition leads to conventional military aggres- sion. Most prominently, S. Paul Kapur argues that conventional aggression should be expected when conventionally weak states with revisionist pref- erences acquire nuclear weapons, b ecause nuclear weapons provide a shield behind which revisionist states can pursue long- held territorial or other am- 4 IntroductIon bitions with limited fear of retaliation.20 This work, although of great im- portance, focuses only on explaining aggression and therefore does not of- fer a full explanation of how nuclear acquisition affects a state’s foreign policies. For example, Kapur does not make an explicit argument about the outcomes we should observe when conventionally powerf ul or status quo states acquire nuclear weapons, or whether weak, revisionist states will use nuclear weapons only to facilitate aggression. Neither the theory of the nuclear revolution nor theories that explain when states use nuclear weapons to engage in aggression can explain the full vari- ation we see in the historical rec ord. The divergent ways in which states have used nuclear weapons to facilitate dif fere nt foreign policy goals remain in need of an explanation. The Argument This book argues that nuclear weapons can facilitate a broad range of for- eign policy be havi ors that states may find attractive, and specifies when states are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate dif fer ent combinations of these be havi ors. What are the foreign policy beh avi ors that nuclear weapons can facilitate? First, nuclear weapons can facilitate aggression: the more belligerent pursuit of goals in preexisting disputes or in pursuit of previously defined interests. Second, nuclear weapons can facilitate expansion: the widening of a state’s goals in international politics (including the initiation of new alliance rela- tionships or new adversarial relationships). Third, nuclear weapons can fa- cilitate ind e pen dence: taking actions that an ally opposes or does not support. Fourth, nuclear weapons may facilitate bolstering: taking actions to increase the strength of an alliance, alliance partner, or friend. Fifth, nuclear weap- ons can facilitate steadfastness: a reduced inclination to back down in disputes or in response to coercion, and an increased willingness to defend the sta- tus quo. Fi nally, nuclear weapons can facilitate compromise: accepting less in preexisting disputes. These beh avi ors are not mutually exclusive: a state may engage in diff er ent combinations of these be havi ors and may direct distinct foreign policy be havi ors toward dif fere nt states. And while some be hav iors do not fit easily into these categories, they provide a useful starting point to begin thinking about the varying ways that nuclear weapons can affect the foreign policies of the states that acquire them. While nuclear weapons can facilitate each of these beh avi ors, dif fere nt states use nuclear weapons to facilitate diff er ent combinations of t hese be- havi ors. I offer a theory that helps explain this variation: the theory of “nu- clear opportunism.”21 I argue that states exist in dif fere nt strategic circum- stances and therefore have diff er ent pol itic al priorities. These dif fer ent priorities make dif fere nt be hav iors more or less attractive to each state. As a 5 IntroductIon result, states use nuclear weapons to facilitate diff er ent foreign policy beh av- iors after acquisition. For example, some states may use nuclear acquisition to facilitate aggression, while others may use nuclear weapons to bolster al- lies or pursue in dep en dence from an ally. According to the theory, states use nuclear weapons in an opportunistic way to improve their position in international politics and to help them achieve pol itic al goals that the state cares about. And it is the strategic situation or circumstances in which a state finds itself that determine the par tic u lar goals and be havi ors a state w ill find attractive. Nuclear weapons, therefore, allow states to pursue their preex- isting po liti cal goals with greater freedom. The theory, shown in figure 0.1, is structured as a “decision tree” of three f actors that describe the state’s position in the international system and shed light on its po litic al priorities: first, the existence of serious territorial threats or an ongoing war; second, the existence of a sen ior ally that provides for the state’s security; third, whether a state is increasing or decreasing in rela- tive power. This is not to suggest that other factors are of no importance— any theory is necessarily a simplification of a more complex real ity. How- ever, a simple theory makes testing the theory easier and provides a foundation that future work can build on. State faces serious Yes Aggression &1. territorial threat/ steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence No from senior ally 3. State is rising Yes Expansion, in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies No Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness towards rivals Figure 0.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism 6 IntroductIon The first variable in the tree is whether the state faces severe territorial threats or is engaged in an ongoing war. This variable comes first b ecause it represents the most binding security environment a state can face. States in this position have little room to maneuver: their po liti cal priority must be to improve their position against the source of the threat or in the war they are engaged in, and they are likely to try to use nuclear weapons for this pur- pose. As a result, such states tend to use nuclear weapons to facilitate ag- gression and steadfastness— two be hav iors that directly improve the state’s position against its adversary. For states not facing such threats, their geopol iti cal environment grants them greater latitude. Such states are not forced to use their nuclear weapons exclusively to improve their position vis-à - vis a primary threat and can afford to use nuclear weapons to improve their position in other ways. The second variable is w hether the state has a se nior ally that provides for its security. For states in this position, reducing their dependence on the se nior ally is desir- able, and their relative security allows them to do so. T hese states are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate in dep en dence from their se nior ally. The third variable— whether the state is rising in power—c onditions the additional ways in which states in permissive security environments are likely to change their foreign policies a fter acquiring nuclear weapons. Secure, rising states often look to expand their influence in international politics, and so us- ing nuclear weapons to facilitate expansion will therefore be attractive. Using nuclear weapons to stand more firmly in defense of the status quo and to bolster the state’s existing allies are also likely to be attractive, as the state seeks to widen its ability to proje ct power and influence. For states that are secure but not rising in power, expansion is less attractive. Indeed, even holding on to what the state already has may be challenging for declining states. However, nuclear weapons can help states in this position by facilitating the bolstering of allies and steadfastness in the face of challenges. The theory of nuclear opportunism offers a diff er ent vision of nuclear weapons from that of the theory of the nuclear revolution. In part ic ul ar, it makes a diff ere nt judgment about how states respond to the security that nu- clear weapons provide. Nuclear weapons do not cause states to worry less about their own security, reduce states’ inclination to compete with each other, or cause states to stop trying to improve their position in international politics. Instead, states use nuclear weapons in serv ice of their preexisting pol iti cal goals and find nuclear weapons useful in pursuit of t hose goals. Nuclear weapons, in short, do not transform state preferences or international politics. Instead, they are incorporated into the practice of international politics. To test the theory, I examine three cases: the United Kingdom, South Af- rica, and the United States. Each case represents a hard test for the theory and offers direct evidence about the proc ess and mechanisms through which nu- clear weapons affected each state’s foreign policy. I look for changes in for- eign policy be hav ior that occur at the point of nuclear acquisition, and then 7 IntroductIon try to assess whether nuclear weapons caused the changes observed. Each case study relies on evidence drawn from multiple archives, and the South African case also draws on interviews with retired military and po litic al elites. In each case, I test the theory both on its own merits and against alter- native explanations. Britain faced no serious territorial threats, had a se nior ally that provided for its security (the United States), and was declining in relative power. As the theory of nuclear opportunism would suggest, Britain did not use its nu- clear weapons to facilitate aggression, expansion, or compromise. Instead, Britain’s pol itic al priorities w ere to maintain its position in the world and reduce its dependence on the United States. Britain, therefore, used nuclear weapons to bolster existing jun ior allies in Asia, the M iddle East, and in Eu rope. Britain also became more comfortable responding more steadfastly to challenges to its position, and paying less attention to the preferences of the United States (that is, acting more in de pend ently) in d oing so. Similarly, I argue that South Africa’s foreign policy changed in ways that are largely consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism. When it acquired nuclear weapons in the late 1970s, apartheid South Africa was engaged in a war in Angola and faced potential Soviet intervention, further Cuban inter- vention, and Angolan forces that threatened South African territory and am- plified the internal threats the regime faced. South Africa’s pol iti cal priority was to improve its position in the conflict, and it used nuclear weapons to be- come more aggressive. Nuclear weapons facilitated this beh av ior by giving South Africa an extra source of leverage to prevent Soviet intervention in the conflict and thus reduced the risks of engaging in aggression. The theory of nuclear opportunism also performs well in explaining US be hav ior. Nuclear acquisition affected US foreign policy very differently dur- ing World War II and in its aftermath. Fighting a brutal war in Eu rope and the Pacific when it initiated the Manhattan Proj ect to acquire nuclear weap- ons, the United States first used nuclear weapons to engage in direct aggres- sion against the Japa nese, as would be expected. However, t here are also ways in which US nuclear weapons facilitated compromise and ind ep en- dence from the Soviet Union during the final days of the war, which di- verge from the expectations of the theory. In the aftermath of World War II, the situation facing the United States changed significantly: the United States no longer faced serious threats and was rising in power. The complexity of the immediate postwar world makes evaluating the predictions of the the- ory challenging. Nonetheless, I argue that the United States used nuclear weapons to facilitate the bolstering of allies, as well as beh av iors that com- bined ele ments of steadfastness, expansion, and aggression. Overall, while the theory of nuclear opportunism does not perform per- fectly, it offers impor tant insights into the way in which states change their foreign policy when they acquire nuclear weapons, and outperforms exist- ing explanations. 8 chapter 1 Nuclear Opportunism How States Use Nuclear Weapons in International Politics This chapter offers a theory that allows us to understand the way nuclear weapons affect the foreign policy of the states that acquire them. Foreign pol- icy is the portion of grand strategy that deals with a state’s relationships with other states. If g rand strategy is the collection of means and ends with which a state attempts to achieve its goals in international politics, then for- eign policy is the collection of means and ends with which a state pursues its goals with re spect to a given other state.1 Foreign policy does not there- fore simply refer to the day- to- day conduct of a nation’s diplomats, and is not the sole preserve of the governmental institution tasked with conduct- ing bilateral diplomacy (for example, the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office or the US State Department). The definition of foreign policy used throughout this book includes a state’s goals with res pect to other states, the strategies it uses to pursue them, and the resources it dedicates to pursuing them. Importantly, foreign policy is dyadic, b ecause a state may have very diff ere nt foreign policies toward dif fer ent other states. Thus, a state has a for- eign policy toward a par tic ul ar other state, rather than having a single foreign policy writ large. Nuclear weapons, for example, may affect China’s foreign policy t oward Pakistan differently from how they affect China’s re- lationship with the United States. The theory I offer argues that the acquisition of nuclear weapons can fa- cilitate (that is, reduce the expected costs of) a range of foreign policy be- hav iors. In par ticu lar, I focus on six foreign policy beh avi ors that nuclear weapons can facilitate: in dep end ence, bolstering, aggression, expansion, steadfastness, and compromise. However, not all states use nuclear weap- ons to facilitate all of these be havi ors. The crux of the theory is that dif fer- ent states find diff ere nt combinations of these be havi ors attractive depend- ing on the strategic circumstances in which the state finds itself. In par ticu l ar, the nature of the threats the state f aces, its position within its alliances, and w hether it is increasing or decreasing in relative power all affect which 9 chapter 1 combinations of these be hav iors the acquiring state finds attractive, and therefore which foreign policy beh av iors the state w ill use nuclear weapons to facilitate. States incorporate nuclear weapons into the calculations they make about what they can achieve (and what they can get away with) in international politics, and direct nuclear weapons to purposes that the state considers useful. Nuclear weapons, in this view, are useful to the states that possess them, but they are not silver bullets that grant states f ree rein in in- ternational politics. I label my theory, and the view of nuclear weapons it implies, as “nuclear opportunism.” The theory emphasizes that states seek to use their nuclear weapons to improve their position in international poli- tics and that the circumstances in which a state finds itself determine the way in which it w ill use its nuclear weapons to do so. This view of nuclear weapons is in contrast to the theory of the nuclear revolution. The theory of the nuclear revolution predicts that by resolving a state’s fundamental security needs, nuclear weapons mean states have less need to compete and thus transform the nature of international politics. However, the pol itic al goals and concerns that states have do not end even if their security has been guaranteed. States have a wide range of pol iti cal goals and those goals vary from state to state. Nuclear weapons may improve a state’s security, but in doing so, they grant states greater freedom to pur- sue their goals in international politics rather than tamping down their am- bitions. Nuclear weapons do not transform the preferences that states have, but grant them greater freedom to pursue their preexisting pol itic al goals. Why Do Nuclear Weapons Affect Foreign Policy? Why is it that nuclear weapons may affect the calculations of the states that acquire them? Nuclear weapons can affect states’ calculations about foreign policy through a range of mechanisms. Some of these mechanisms reflect strategic responses to the military capabilities that nuclear weapons provide the state, while o thers are less rooted in rational-s trategic calculations at the level of the state and reflect individual- or group- level responses to nuclear acquisition. First, t here are direct military mechanisms by which nuclear weapons af- fect calculations about foreign policy. For example, using nuclear weapons militarily to achieve a certain level of destruction may be cheaper or easier than using conventional military means to achieve the same level of mili- tary destruction: the destructive capabilities that nuclear weapons offer are unique among military technologies. Thomas Schelling was correct to say that “against defenseless people there is not much that nuclear weapons can do that cannot be done with an ice pick,” but the significance of nuclear weapons in international politics is not what they can achieve but the speed and efficiency with which they can achieve it.2 For example, the United States 10 nuclear opportunIsm was able to destroy Hiroshima and Nagasaki far more easily with nuclear weapons than it would have been able to with conventional ordnance. Sin- gle nuclear weapons destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki; achieving the same results with conventional weapons would have required hundreds of bombs and planes. Of course, there are many military missions that nuclear weap- ons are poorly suited for, but nuclear weapons make large-s cale and indis- criminate destruction easier to achieve. Most states do not plan to use their nuclear weapons in a direct military sense, however. The second way in which nuclear weapons affect calcula- tions about foreign policy is through pol iti cal mechanisms. Nuclear weap- ons affect the calculations of states with which the nuclear state is interact- ing in its foreign policy. Nuclear weapons grant states an ability to escalate (or threaten to escalate) a conflict or crisis to the nuclear level. This raises the expected costs of escalation for adversaries, because nuclear use may im- pose costs on their territory, population, or military capabilities beyond those that can be imposed using conventional forces. The expected cost for the nuclear-a rmed state of engaging in foreign policy be havi ors that may trigger escalatory responses is therefore reduced, b ecause it is harder for ad- versaries to escalate in response. The same logic applies even in situations in which the threat of nuclear use is not credible, because nuclear weapons may nonetheless make a state better able to outbid adversaries in a compe- tition in risk taking. As Schelling argues, states can exert coercive pressure on each other by making “threats that leave something to chance” even if deliberate nuclear use is not credible.3 E very act of escalation is therefore costlier (in expectation) against a nuclear- armed state than it would be if the state did not have nuclear weapons. For the nuclear-a rmed state, therefore, foreign policy be havi ors that raise the risk of escalatory responses may have their expected costs reduced by nuclear possession b ecause nuclear weap- ons make it harder for adversaries to escalate. Similarly, nuclear weapons may reduce the cost of certain foreign policy be hav iors by affecting the calculations of actors not directly involved in the part icu lar dyadic foreign policy interaction. For example, nuclear weapons may deter diplomatic or military interventions by hostile third parties, or encourage similar interventions by friendly third parties.4 In this case, nu- clear weapons may not affect the calculations of the state with which the nu- clear state is interacting in a given foreign policy, but nonetheless affect the costs associated with that foreign policy by influencing the calculations of other states. For example, as I discuss in chapter 3, South Africa’s nuclear weapons allowed it to reduce the risk of Soviet intervention in Angola, thus facilitating greater South African aggression in the ongoing war in Angola. Third, there are efficiency mechanisms by which nuclear weapons may af- fect foreign policy costs by freeing up resources or rendering the nuclear- armed state less reliant on o thers. By reducing the costs of certain foreign policy beh avi ors, nuclear weapons may free up resources to engage in other 11 chapter 1 foreign policy beh avi ors that the state would not otherw ise be able to afford. Thus, even if the expected costs of these beh avi ors are not directly affected by nuclear weapons themselves, they may nonetheless be facilitated by nu- clear acquisition. Similarly, the capabilities offered by nuclear weapons may mean that the need to secure external pol iti cal or military support from a third party is less pressing, increasing the state’s self- reliance and reduc- ing the costs of foreign policy be havi ors that risk jeopardizing support from allies. For example, as I discuss in chapter 2, nuclear weapons allowed Brit- ain to act more in de pen dently of the United States. Fourth, there are bureaucratic and domestic po liti cal mechanisms by which nuclear weapons affect foreign policy. Programs to acquire nuclear weap- ons are large, resource- intensive efforts that require buy-in from co ali tions of scientists, bureaucrats, pol itic al leaders, and legislators.5 For individuals and institutions that made the argument that nuclear acquisition would ben- efit the state and that invested po litic al resources into the acquisition of nuclear weapons, t here may be strong incentives to demonstrate that t hose benefits have in fact been achieved. Nuclear weapons may tempt nuclear ad- vocates within the government to pursue certain foreign policies (or reduce the obstacles preventing such policies being pursued) precisely to demon- strate the utility of nuclear weapons. For example, it was the Pakistani mili- tary that both controlled Pakistan’s nuclear program and then planned and advocated for the nuclear- enabled adventurism of the 1999 Kargil War on the basis that Pakistani nuclear weapons would inhibit any Indian response.6 Fifth, t here are a range of psychological and identity- based mechanisms by which nuclear weapons affect international politics.7 Relative to other weap- ons, nuclear weapons are imbued with unusual symbolism, myt hol ogy, and significance for those who acquire them. Similarly, nuclear weapons have often been viewed as power ful symbols of technological pro gress and prestige by t hose who have sought them. For example, as British prime minister Winston Churchill’s scientific adviser told him, “It is surely vital, unless we are to become a second-c lass nation armed with inferior weap- ons, that we should be in a position to make our own bombs.”8 Indeed, the very fact that nuclear weapons are commonly classified as distinct from “conventional” weapons is indicative of their unusual status. Given that states care deeply about prestige, status, and self- identity, nuclear weapons may also affect foreign policy by changing how states and leaders conceive of themselves, what they are capable of, and their state’s role in international politics. Sixth, these mechanisms are all magnified by the sel ection effects involved in which states acquire nuclear weapons.9 Many of the mechanisms de- scribed above could work in multiple directions; for example, there are plenty of normative or identity- based mechanisms that would constrain nu- clear weapons from having a substantial effect on a state’s foreign policy.10 However, the states that ultimately acquire nuclear weapons are not a ran- 12 nuclear opportunIsm dom se lection of states. The states that are willing to bear the financial, dip- lomatic, and other costs associated with pursuing and acquiring nuclear weapons are likely to be those whose foreign policy calculations will be most affected by having them: nuclear acquisition is likely to be most attractive to those that will benefit most from nuclear acquisition. Similarly, those that acquire nuclear weapons are likely to be those that are most susceptible to the bureaucratic or identity-b ased mechanisms. For example, as Jacques Hymans argues, leaders who seek nuclear weapons tend to be those whose calculations about foreign policy w ill be most influenced by nuclear weap- ons: those who “develop a desire for nuclear weapons that goes beyond cal- culation, to self- expression.”11 How Can Nuclear Weapons Affect Foreign Policy? Nuclear weapons can therefore affect a state’s calculations about foreign pol- icy through a range of diff er ent mechanisms. But what foreign policy be- hav iors do nuclear weapons facilitate? This section distinguishes among six distinct foreign policy beh avi ors that nuclear weapons can facilitate: aggres- sion, expansion, in de pen dence, bolstering, steadfastness, and compromise. Some of these effects have previously been conflated under the catch- all term “emboldenment,” while others are not typically thought of as emboldening effects. I show why nuclear weapons may facilitate each of t hese beh avi ors. This does not imply that nuclear weapons make any par tic ul ar be hav ior easy: nuclear weapons do not grant states free rein in international politics, and many foreign policy be hav iors will be costly both before and a fter nu- clear acquisition. Similarly, I do not assume that the expected costs of en- gaging in each of these be hav iors w ill always be reduced by nuclear acquisi- tion. Nonetheless, nuclear weapons can facilitate each of t hese beh av iors.12 aggression Nuclear weapons may facilitate aggression. Aggression is defined as more belligerent pursuit of goals in preexisting disputes or in pursuit of previously defined interests. Nuclear weapons can facilitate aggression through any of the mechanisms discussed above. Nuclear weapons may reduce the expected cost of aggres- sion b ecause a state may use nuclear weapons directly to engage in military operations that would be more costly to undertake with conventional forces (the military mechanism). Nuclear weapons may also facilitate aggression because nuclear weapons raise the risk of escalation for the state’s opponents, which must reckon with both the conventional forces the state previously possessed and its nuclear capabilities (the pol iti cal mechanism). This should make it harder for states to respond to the escalation of the nuclear-a rmed 13 chapter 1 state, which should therefore find it easier to escalate its efforts to revise the status quo. Similarly, nuclear weapons may deter third parties from inter- vening to prevent the aggression of the nuclear-a rmed state. Nuclear weap- ons may facilitate aggression because they can free up resources previously dedicated to other military contingencies, allowing a state to concentrate ad- ditional resources in revising a part ic ul ar elem ent of the status quo (the ef- ficiency mechanism). And nuclear weapons may facilitate aggression b ecause they alter individual leaders’ assessments of what their country is capable of, or b ecause bureaucratic institutions that advocated for nuclear acquisi- tion face incentives to demonstrate that nuclear weapons allow the state to achieve long- held revisionist goals (the identity- based or bureaucratic mech- anisms). Through all of t hese mechanisms, nuclear weapons can make op- portunities to escalate a conflict or attempts to revise the status quo more attractive than they would have been before nuclear acquisition. Aggression may be identified by a range of be havi ors, including (a) the issuance of new or more demanding compellent threats in an ongoing dis- pute; (b) the dedication of larger conventional forces to missions associated with a par tic ul ar dispute; (c) more belligerent rhe toric being used by gov- ernment officials and po litic al leaders toward a par tic ul ar country; (d) the vertical escalation of a dispute through the use of new tactics, forces, mili- tary doctrines, or technologies; and (e) a greater tolerance for escalation and risk- taking beh avi or in an existing dispute. As I discuss in chapter 5, Pakistan provides perhaps the clearest example of a state using nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. Scholars largely agree that nuclear weapons have acted as a shield behind which Pakistan has been able to pursue more aggressively its foreign policy goals in Kash- mir and against India more broadly, most notably during the 1999 Kargil War and in the use of subconventional attacks against Indian cities.13 For exam- ple, C. Christine Fair argues that nuclear weapons “increase the cost of In- dian action” against Pakistan, which facilitates “risk-s eeking beh av ior as part of [Pakistan’s] effort to change the status quo.”14 South Africa also provides an example of a state using nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. As I discuss in chapter 3, fears regarding escalation placed substantial constraints on South African beh avi or in the frontline states (and particularly in Angola) before nuclear acquisition. South Africa acquired nuclear weapons to pro- vide an additional tool with which to control escalation and thus reduced the risks associated with aggression. As a result, South African tolerance for escalation in the Border Wars increased significantly once South Africa had acquired nuclear weapons, and South Africa became comfortable engaging in operations that had previously been considered too risky. To take another example, had Iraq succeeded in acquiring nuclear weapons, documentary evidence suggests that Saddam Hussein had at least considered using nu- clear weapons to facilitate conventional aggression against Israel.15 14 nuclear opportunIsm expansion Nuclear weapons can reduce the costs of expansion. While some scholars use the term “expansion” as more or less synonymous with “aggression,”16 I distinguish between the two. Expansion is defined as the widening of a state’s interests and ambitions in international politics, rather than the more aggressive pursuit of existing interests. As with aggression, nuclear weapons may reduce the costs associated with expansion through many of the mechanisms discussed above. First, through the efficiency mechanism: nuclear weapons may allow states to free up con- ventional military resources that had previously been dedicated to certain tasks that the state can now accomplish with nuclear weapons or by relying on nuclear deterrence. T hese freed-up forces can be redeployed in pursuit of new interests at lower risk than would have been poss ib le without nu- clear weapons. In addition, nuclear weapons may lower the costs associated with taking on new allies by making other states less willing to escalate con- flicts against t hose allies now that they have a nuclear- armed patron, or by increasing the risks associated with resisting a state expanding its interests (the po liti cal mechanisms). And nuclear weapons may facilitate expansion by altering individual leaders’ assessments of their country’s appropriate role in the world, or because bureaucratic institutions that advocated for nu- clear acquisition face incentives to demonstrate that nuclear weapons allow the state to rethink and expand its ambitions and status in the world (the identity- based or bureaucratic mechanisms). Distinguishing expansion from aggression is not always easy, because states have incentives to claim that the pursuit of new interests or the initia- tion of new alliances or rivalries is consistent with long- standing interests or goals.17 Nonetheless, actions indicative of expansion may include a state (a) broadening its declared interests in world politics; (b) forming alliances with, or offering extended deterrence to, new states; (c) developing greater power projection capabilities; (d) providing support for insurgents, proxies, or rebel groups in new countries; (e) participating in disputes with states with which the state has no previous history of conflict; and (f) taking a more active role in multilateral or international institutions. The United States provides an example of a state that was able to expand its interests in world politics in the aftermath of acquiring nuclear weapons. Nuclear weapons played a key role in the US Cold War strategy to contain the Soviet Union, facilitated a semi-p ermanent military presence in Eur ope, allowed the United States to extend nuclear deterrence to a range of new al- lies, and thus permitted the United States to pursue a more expansive g rand strategy than it had previously considered in its history.18 Similarly, a fter ac- quiring nuclear weapons, the Soviet Union sought to expand its interests in Asia. The Soviet Union reversed its previously cautious attitude t oward the Chinese revolution, signing an alliance treaty with the People’s Republic of 15 chapter 1 China (PRC) that included a commitment to assist China “by all means at its disposal,” a phrase that deliberately invoked the use of nuclear weap- ons.19 More dramatically, Joseph Stalin authorized the transfer of substan- tial military capabilities to the North Korean army and ultimately approved Kim Il Sung’s attack on South Korea. More broadly, and consistent with the idea that states expand their interests a fter nuclear acquisition, quantitative research suggests that states possessing nuclear weapons are on average more likely to initiate military disputes with countries with whom they have no history of conflict.20 in de pen dence Nuclear weapons may reduce the costs associated with a state acting in- dep end ently of allies. In de pen dence is defined as taking actions that an ally either opposes or does not support the state taking. How might nuclear weapons facilitate ind ep end ence? Most obviously, through the efficiency mechanism of increasing the state’s self-r eliance. By providing an internal source of military power that the state previously lacked, nuclear weapons reduce a state’s need to rely on external sources of military power— that is, alliances.21 The alliance therefore becomes some- what less valuable than it previously was.22 As a result, the costs of acting in de pen dently of the ally, or in ways contrary to the wishes of the ally, are reduced because the ally’s support is no longer required to the degree it was before nuclear acquisition. B ecause states with nuclear weapons have less need for an ally’s protection, they should be less inclined to compromise their own goals in exchange for protection. However, nuclear weapons may also facilitate in de pend ence via the bureaucratic or identity-b ased mechanisms if the desire for in de pen dence was a core driver of nuclear acquisition in the eyes of the individuals and institutions that advocated for nuclear weapons. Importantly, in dep end ence may be observed in the state’s relationship with the ally from which the state is increasingly ind ep en dent. However, in- de pen dence may also be observed in the state’s relationship with other states. Ind e pen dence may go hand in hand with other beh av iors identified by the typology when those other be hav iors are at least partially constrained by the preferences of an ally. For example, nuclear acquisition may facilitate ag- gression either via the mechanisms identified above or b ecause a state previ- ously refrained from aggression for fear of invoking the dis plea sure of an ally. Actions indicating an increased ind e pen dence from an ally may include (a) an increased willingness to criticize an ally, (b) an increased willingness to cooperate with an adversary of an ally, (c) an increased willingness to take actions opposed by the ally, (d) a reduced inclination to inform an ally in advance of taking par ticu lar action, (e) an increased willingness to take mil- itary actions in the absence of support from an ally, and (f) withdrawing from an alliance. 16 nuclear opportunIsm France provides an example of a state using nuclear weapons to facilitate in de pend ence. As I discuss in chapter 5, France obtained nuclear weapons partly to reduce its dependence on the United States for its security. Upon acquiring a deliverable capability in 1964, France became more comfortable acting in dep end ently of the United States— for example, in criticizing the Bretton Woods monetary system, in pursuing détente with the Soviet Union, in recognizing China, and, most notably, by withdrawing from the command structure of the North Atlantic Treaty Organ ization (NATO).23 Similarly, ob- servers have argued that North Korean nuclear weapons have allowed Pyongyang to defy its Chinese patron at lower risk. Jonathan Pollack argues that “the desire to be answerable to no external power” was a key driver of the North Korean nuclear program, and that “North Korean leaders have concluded that its nascent nuclear weapons capabilities . . . i nhibit the Chi- nese,” both in terms of controlling North Korean be hav ior and in limiting its ability to jettison its ties with Pyongyang despite Chinese leaders becoming “increasingly perturbed” by North Korean beh av ior.24 In chapter 2, I argue that Britain became more willing to respond to challenges to its position in the Middle East ind ep end ently of the United States after acquiring nuclear weapons. Before Britain had acquired a usable nuclear capability, British responses to challenges to its position in the Middle East w ere character- ized by dependence on the United States and a reliance on US military and diplomatic support. In the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, Britain became considerably more willing to use force unilaterally to restore or protect the status quo, including in cases where the United States e ither opposed or did not actively support British action. bolstering Nuclear weapons may reduce the costs associated with bolstering. Bol- stering is defined as taking actions to increase the strength of an existing al- liance or alliance partner.25 Thus, while in de pend ence involves using nu- clear weapons as a substitute for an alliance, bolstering involves using nuclear weapons to augment an alliance. Nuclear weapons can facilitate or reduce the costs associated with bolster- ing through several of the mechanisms identified above. First, through po- liti cal mechanisms: nuclear weapons may offer a lower- cost way to defend an alliance partner by making hostile third parties less inclined to challenge the alliance partner. Similarly, nuclear- armed states possess a range of nu- clear technologies that they can choose to offer to an ally— increasing the ally’s strength (and capacity to acquire nuclear weapons of its own) in a way that is less costly than making an equivalent conventional commitment. For example, a state can transfer sensitive nuclear technologies to an ally as a way of strengthening it.26 Second, by using nuclear weapons to accomplish tasks for which the state had previously relied on conventional forces, nuclear 17 chapter 1 weapons may f ree up financial or conventional military resources that a state can use to take on deeper alliance commitments (the efficiency mecha- nism). Third, nuclear weapons could facilitate bolstering via the bureau- cratic or identity- based mechanisms if the desire to maintain or enhance the credibility of a state’s alliances was a key reason to acquire nuclear weap- ons for the leaders and institutions that advocated for nuclear weapons. Ac- tions indicating bolstering may include a state (a) offering a firmer defense commitment than had previously been offered to an ally, (b) stationing forces or weapons systems on the territory of the ally, (c) institutionalizing or for- malizing a previously informal cooperative relationship, and (d) providing additional resources to the state (including nuclear technologies). A range of states have used nuclear weapons to bolster their allies. For ex- ample, China provided Pakistan with enough highly enriched uranium (HEU) to build several nuclear weapons, along with a nuclear weapon de- sign, in order to bolster Pakistan against their common adversary, India.27 Indeed, research suggests that sensitive nuclear assistance is often under- taken to bolster friends against common enemies.28 Britain also provides an example of a state that used nuclear weapons to bolster its alliances. As dis- cussed in chapter 2, upon acquiring a deliverable capability in 1955, Britain used its nuclear weapons to make commitments to allies in the M iddle East, Asia, and Eur ope that it was increasingly unable to make credible with de- clining conventional forces. steadfastness Nuclear weapons may reduce the costs associated with steadfastness. Steadfastness is defined as a reduced inclination to back down in disputes or in response to coercion, and an increased willingness to fight to defend the status quo. As with aggression, nuclear weapons can reduce the cost of this beh av ior through a range of mechanisms. Nuclear weapons facilitate steadfastness because they raise the risk of escalation for the state’s opponents, which must reckon with both the conventional forces the state previously possessed and its nuclear capabilities (the pol itic al mechanism). Because other states find it harder to escalate against the nuclear-a rmed state, it should be easier for the nuclear-a rmed state to stand firm in defense of the status quo. Similarly, nu- clear weapons may also deter potentially hostile third parties from joining in an attack against the nuclear-a rmed state, making it easier to stand up to threats it does face. Nuclear weapons may facilitate steadfastness because they may free up resources previously dedicated to other contingencies, al- lowing a state to concentrate additional resources in defending the status quo (the efficiency mechanism). And they may facilitate steadfastness via the bu- reaucratic or identity- based mechanisms as those individuals and institutions that advocated for nuclear weapons feel stronger as a result of acquiring nu- 18 nuclear opportunIsm clear weapons or feel compelled to demonstrate that they no longer have to acquiesce to the demands of other states. Through all of these mechanisms, nuclear weapons can allow states to stand more firmly in defense of the status quo. Actions indicating steadfastness may include a state (a) issuing more ex- plicit deterrent threats to opponents, (b) more quickly mobilizing forces in re- sponse to aggression, (c) using more belligerent rhe toric during disputes and crises, and (d) responding to military provocations at higher rates. Pakistan provides an example of a state that has used nuclear weapons to stand firmer in defense of the status quo. For example, Pakistani elites viewed the vario us India- Pakistan crises of the 1980s as “validat[ing] Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto’s decision to acquire a nuclear weapons capability. . . . [ A] nuclear capability ensures defense against physical external aggression and coercion from adversaries, and deters infringement of national sovereignty,” as well as providing Pakistan with the ability to draw the United States in to resolve Indo-P akistani disputes should escalation rise to an intolerable level.29 Nu- clear weapons have thus allowed Pakistan to tolerate higher levels of escala- tion in disputes with India and to stand more firmly in defense of what it perceived to be the status quo in the face of Indian provocations. To take an- other example, Britain also used nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness. In chapter 2, I argue that after nuclear acquisition Britain responded to chal- lenges to its position in the M iddle East more forcefully but without seek- ing to acquire resources or territory beyond the preexisting status quo. compromise Nuclear weapons may reduce the costs associated with compromise. In contrast to aggression, which is defined as seeking more in preexisting dis- putes, compromise is defined as accepting less in preexisting disputes. Nuclear weapons may reduce the cost of compromising in disputes through several of the mechanisms above. First, through pol iti cal mecha- nisms: because nuclear weapons raise the costs associated with adversaries challenging the state, nuclear weapons reduce the security risks that the state f aces, and thus mean that a state may face lower risks if it makes compro- mises. For example, if nuclear weapons make conventional aggression against the state less likely, then they also reduce the value of strategic depth and therefore reduce the value of holding territory. The risks associated with making territorial compromises are therefore lower. Nuclear weapons may also facilitate compromise through the efficiency mechanism: nuclear weap- ons may free up military or financial resources that a state can use to di- rectly mitigate the security risks— and thus reduce the costs— associated with making compromises. It is pos sib le, though perhaps less likely, that nuclear weapons could also facilitate compromise via the bureaucratic or identity- based mechanisms if the desire to make compromises was an impor tant ra- tionale for nuclear acquisition in the eyes of the individuals and institutions 19 chapter 1 that advocated for nuclear weapons. Compromise may be identified by a range of be havi ors, including (a) the dedication of fewer or less offensively postured conventional forces to missions associated with a part icu lar dis- pute, (b) less belligerent rhet oric being used by government officials and po- liti cal leaders t oward a par tic u lar country, (c) the initiation of negotiations or issuance of less onerous demands in a given dispute, and (d) the settling of territorial disputes through negotiation. I argue below that we should not expect states to use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise. And, indeed, it is unclear whether any state has ever behaved in this way in response to nuclear acquisition. One poss ib le case is that Soviet “New Thinking,” and the associated withdrawal from Eastern Eur ope, Afg han is tan, and Africa, was the result of a belated recognition of the reduced benefits of controlling territory in the nuclear age. However, the role of nuclear weapons in this case is contested, and even advocates of this view acknowledge a wide range of other f actors played into Soviet think- ing.30 However, regardless of w hether states have responded to nuclear ac- quisition in this way, scholars have frequently argued that states should be- have in this way. For example, Shai Feldman argues that Israel should respond to nuclear acquisition by being more willing to make territorial com- promises with its neighbors.31 Nuclear Opportunism and the Primacy of Politics When will states use nuclear weapons to facilitate diff ere nt combinations of these beh avi ors? Why do some states use nuclear weapons to facilitate ag- gression, while o thers use them to bolster their allies or act more ind ep en- dently of allies? I argue that states exist in diff ere nt strategic circumstances and therefore have diff ere nt pol iti cal priorities. T hese dif fer ent priorities lead states to use nuclear weapons to facilitate diff er ent foreign policy be hav iors a fter acquisi- tion. For example, some states may use nuclear acquisition to facilitate ag- gression, while others may use nuclear weapons to bolster allies. I label this theory, and the view of nuclear weapons that it implies, as “nuclear oppor- tunism.” According to the theory, states use nuclear weapons in an opportu- nistic way to improve their position in international politics and to help them achieve po liti cal goals that the state cares about. Nuclear weapons, according to the theory, do not transform international politics or necessarily ameliorate security competition among states. Nor do they grant states f ree rein in inter- national politics. Instead, nuclear weapons are incorporated into the practice of international politics and used by states to help pursue their pol itic al goals. The theory is structured as a decision tree of three s imple variables that describe the state’s position in the international system and thus shed light on its po litic al priorities.32 The first variable is the existence of serious ter- 20 nuclear opportunIsm US pre-Sept 1945 State faces serious Aggression & Israel 1. territorial threat/ Yes steadfastness South Africa ongoing war? towards threat Pakistan North Korea No State has senior 2. Yesally? Independence United Kingdom No from senior ally France State is rising Yes Expansion, US post-Sept 19453. in power? steadfastness, Soviet Union & bolstering of China No junior allies India Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness United Kingdom towards rivals France Figure 1.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism and empirical predictions ritorial threats or an ongoing war, the second is the existence of a se nior ally that provides for the state’s security, and the third is whether a state is in- creasing or decreasing in relative power.33 Figure 1.1 shows the structure of the theory and the predictions made in each historical case of nuclear acquisition. Because of the structure of the the- ory, some states appear twice—f or example, the theory predicts that the United Kingdom would use nuclear weapons to facilitate ind ep en dence from its se nior ally (the United States), as well as bolstering of its jun ior al- lies and steadfastness in response to threats. variable 1: serious territorial threat or ongoing war The first variable in the sequence is whether the state f aces a serious ter- ritorial threat or is engaged in an ongoing war. States in such a precarious security environment enjoy l ittle room for maneuver. Improving their posi- tion against the source of threat or in the war they are fighting is their po liti- cal priority, and such states w ill therefore direct their nuclear weapons to foreign policies that serve that purpose. For states in such a precarious environment, many of the six foreign policy be hav iors are relatively unattractive. For example, pursuing ind e pen dence 21 chapter 1 from allies is unattractive because states in dire security environments are eager to accept assistance from other states and do not wish to jeopardize their relationships with allies that may be able to help improve their secu- rity. Similarly, expansion and bolstering are generally less attractive b ecause a state facing such threats has little latitude to engage in these beh av iors. States facing serious threats do not typically seek to widen their interests in international politics or shore up the security of other states, b ecause im- proving their own security must take priority. While expansion, ind e pen dence, and bolstering are less attractive, aggres- sion and steadfastness are more attractive. States facing serious threats would generally like to more easily hold on to what they have against the threats they face, would like to take territory or other resources away from the source of threat (or be able to more credibly threaten to do so), and would like to be able to tolerate higher levels of escalation in crises. For such states, aggression and steadfastness t oward the source of threat are, therefore, more attractive than the other foreign policy beh av iors. B ecause such states find these beh avi ors attractive, states in this position are therefore likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression and steadfastness a fter nuclear ac- quisition, allowing them to both stand more firmly in defense of the status quo when challenged and push harder in pursuit of preexisting goals. As shown in figure 1.2, this leads to the first prediction of the theory of nuclear opportunism: states facing severe territorial threats or involved in an ongoing war are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate both aggres- sion and steadfastness against the source of the threat.34 For example, Paki- stan, facing a serious territorial threat from India, would be expected to use nuclear weapons both to pursue its offensive goals against India more bel- ligerently (aggression) and to stand more firmly in defense of the status quo when challenged (steadfastness). Identifying whether a state faces threats of this sort is straightforward. The threats that a state faces can be directly observed, although elite perceptions of the threat may sometimes deviate from the objective reali ty. This variable has several components.35 First, the threat must be proximate— that is, it must either be on a state’s borders or be able to threaten a state’s borders in short order. Threats that are geog raphi c ally distant, or that must pass over inhospitable terrain, do not count as severe territorial threats.36 Second, the threat must have sufficient conventional military power (or the potential to raise such military power in short order) and a sufficiently favorable mili- State faces serious Aggression & 1. territorial threat/ Yes steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat Figure 1.2. Predictions for states facing serious territorial threats or engaged in war 22 nuclear opportunIsm tary balance to threaten a substantial portion of the state’s territory (that is, the threat must be able to proje ct power offensively). Third, the threat must be perceived to have aggressive intentions. A state cannot be defined as fac- ing a severe territorial threat if it does not feel threatened. All three of t hese criteria must be met for a state to face a severe territorial threat. Similarly, observing whether a state is involved in an ongoing war is straightforward. It is worth noting that the nuclear status of the source of threat does not affect the predictions. If a state faces serious territorial threats or is involved in an ongoing war, then nuclear acquisition facilitates steadfastness and ag- gression regardless of the nuclear status of the opponent.37 Whether or not the source of the threat possesses nuclear weapons, nuclear acquisition raises the level of escalation that the state is willing to tolerate (e ither in defense of the status quo or in pursuit of revisionist goals). For example, Pakistan would find improving its ability to engage in aggression and steadfastness toward India attractive, and would find that nuclear weapons facilitated t hose beh av iors, regardless of w hether India possessed nuclear weapons. In short, when facing a severe territorial threat, having nuclear weapons facilitates aggression and steadfastness, w hether or not the state posing the threat itself has nuclear weapons. variable 2: presence of a sen ior ally States not facing serious territorial threats or engaged in an ongoing war continue down the decision tree in figure 1.1. Given the absence of severe threats or an ongoing war, the security environment faced by such states is less constricting. The second and third variables help explain how states in more permissive security environments change their foreign policies after nuclear acquisition. The second variable in the sequence is whether the state acquiring nuclear weapons has a se nior alliance partner that helps provide for the state’s de- fense. States that reach this variable in the decision tree do not face severe threats, but states whose security is partly provided for by a sen ior ally are constrained if they wish to engage in be hav iors that the se nior ally opposes or does not support. Because the se nior alliance partner plays a role in providing for the security of the jun ior state, the jun ior state must be cau- tious of acting in ways that may displease the sen ior state.38 The support of an ally is always at least somewhat suspect, and so few states can act con- trary to the interests of the se nior alliance partner without at least worrying about potential reductions in support.39 Such concerns impose constraints on the be havi or of the ju nior partner. The constraints imposed by dependence on a sen ior ally mean that states in this position are likely to be e ager to increase their ability to act ind e pen- dently of their se nior ally. As Avery Goldstein argues, “ Those able to become more self- reliant often make the costly effort [to do so]. . . . D eference to a 23 chapter 1 security patron is likely to be pol itic ally unattractive for the leaders of sov- ereign states.”40 B ecause these states find in de pend ence to be an attractive be hav ior, we should therefore expect that states in this position would use nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pen dence a fter acquisition. When such states acquire nuclear weapons, we should therefore expect to see them hav- ing fewer compunctions about criticizing or failing to support their sen ior ally, acting in ways contrary to the ally’s interests, defying their sen ior ally, or even withdrawing from the alliance altogether. As shown in figure 1.3, this leads to the second prediction of the theory of nuclear opportunism: states that do not face severe territorial threats and are not involved in an ongoing war, but do have a sen ior ally that provides for their security are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pend ence from their se nior ally. For example, the theory predicts that both Britain and France—w hich did not face serious territorial threats when they acquired nuclear weapons—w ould use nuclear weapons to become more ind e pen- dent from their se nior ally, the United States. Identifying whether states have allies of this sort is straightforward. Many alliances are formalized in treaties and even those that are not are typically accompanied by resource flows and diplomatic support. Identifying which party is the se nior ally in the alliance is also normally straightforward. Typ- ically, the sen ior state in the alliance w ill be the more militarily powerf ul state and the one contributing resources and commitments to the other state, and w ill be recognized as such by both partners in the alliance.41 variable 3: power trajectory Regardless of whether a state has a sen ior ally that provides for its secu- rity (that is, regardless of the value that the second variable takes), states that neither face serious territorial threats on their borders nor are involved in an State faces serious Aggression & 1. territorial threat/ Yes steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence from senior ally Figure 1.3. Predictions for states not facing serious threats but with sen ior allies 24 nuclear opportunIsm ongoing war continue down the decision tree to the third variable. This vari- able conditions the additional benefits they seek to gain from their nuclear weapons, and mea sures how a state’s power position is changing over time. Scholars have long recognized that states that are rising in power often look to expand their influence in international politics. For example, Fareed Zakaria states that “nations try to expand their po liti cal interests abroad when central decision-m akers perceive a relative increase in state power,” while Robert Jervis argues that “states’ definition of their interests tend to expand as their power does.”42 Such states are therefore likely to find expan- sion attractive, and will use nuclear weapons to facilitate this be havi or. For example, such states may widen their interests in international politics, ini- tiate new rivalries, or take on new alliance commitments. Similarly, using nuclear weapons to bolster the state’s existing allies and increase the power of the state’s alliance networks is also likely to be attractive, as the state seeks to widen its influence. Fin ally, such states find steadfastness attractive—e ven rising states will continue to seek to safeguard what they already have. Aggression is likely to be less attractive than expansion for states in this position. First, the threats that such states face are by definition not so im- mediate that they require the state’s full attention (if they w ere, such states would have been defined as facing severe threats at the first stage of the decision tree). Rising states can afford to be patient in dealing with such threats because time is on their side: b ecause they are increasing in power, any existing threats or rivalries w ill become easier to deal with over time. Second, rising states need to be careful as they increase their power not to give potential rivals too much cause to band together to oppose them.43 In- deed, existing opponents of the state are likely to be particularly sensitive to any effort by the rising state to aggress against it. For rising states, aggres- sion may, therefore, be more troub le than it is worth. As shown in figure 1.4, this leads to the third prediction of the theory of nuclear opportunism: states that do not face severe territorial threats and are rising in power are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate expansion, steadfastness, and bolstering ju nior allies. By contrast, what are the predictions for a state that reaches the third vari- able in the decision tree but is not increasing in relative power? Expansion and aggression are relatively unattractive for such states. Expanding a state’s interests and alliances is unwise when a state does not have the ability to support such actions, and trying to acquire more in ongoing disputes is un- likely to be attractive when merely holding on to what the state already has is likely to prove sufficiently challenging as its relative power declines. Instead, an impor tant pol iti cal priority for states in this position is to main- tain the state’s position. Bolstering and steadfastness are therefore attractive foreign policy beh avi ors. Bolstering the state’s alliances is attractive b ecause alliances help the state maintain its position in international politics even as its power declines.44 25 chapter 1 State faces serious Aggression & 1. territorial threat/ Yes steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence No from senior ally 3. State is rising Yes Expansion, in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies Figure 1.4. Predictions for rising states not facing serious threats Similarly, steadfastness is attractive for states looking to maintain their po- sition in international politics. Such states are particularly concerned with standing more firmly in defense of the status quo when challenged. Because maintaining the state’s position is a priority, being able to stand more firmly in defense of the status quo is attractive, and such states are likely to use nu- clear weapons to facilitate steadfastness. Overall, the theory therefore ex- pects that when states not facing severe threats but declining in power acquire nuclear weapons, they w ill use them to facilitate the bolstering of existing ju nior allies and steadfastness in defense of the status quo. As shown in figure 1.5, this leads to the third prediction of the theory of nuclear opportunism: states that do not face severe territorial threats and are declining in power are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate bolstering and steadfastness. Identifying whether a state is rising in relative power is reasonably straightforward. For example, the Correlates of War Proje ct’s Composite Index of National Capabilities (CINC) scores provide a meas ure of a state’s share of total global power. One can, for example, examine how the CINC score has changed over the past five years, or take a moving aver- age of a state’s CINC score.45 The variable can also be meas ured qualitatively by examining the speech evidence and writings of leaders and other elites in the state, b ecause elites may have a strong belief that the state’s relative power position is worsening, even if that is not in fact the case.46 26 nuclear opportunIsm State faces serious Yes Aggression &1. territorial threat/ steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence No from senior ally State is rising Yes Expansion,3. in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies No Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness towards rivals Figure 1.5. Predictions for declining states not facing serious threats Potential Objections There are, of course, potential objections to the theory laid out above. First, it may be argued that while states do respond in this way to nuclear acquisition, these are brief effects that dissipate over time rather than endure. And, indeed, some scholars have argued that states experience brief peri- ods of emboldenment or belligerence when they acquire nuclear weapons that gradually wear off as states come to realize the l imited utility of their nuclear weapons.47 Of course, even if the theory of nuclear opportunism ap- plies to states only in the immediate aftermath of nuclear acquisition, this would still be impor tant given that policymakers are particularly interested in the immediate effects of nuclear acquisition. For example, policymakers are likely to be more concerned about the effect that nuclear weapons would have on Iran ian foreign policy immediately a fter acquiring nuclear weap- ons than they would be about what Iran might use its nuclear weapons for once it has had them for twenty years. More importantly, however, t here are also strong theoretical reasons for thinking that states may only rarely reevalu- ate the role that nuclear weapons play in their foreign policy and, therefore, that 27 chapter 1 the effects of nuclear weapons w ill have a highly path-d ependent character, enduring over substantial periods of time. First, scholars often emphasize the importance of civilian oversight in stimulating innovation, but the high level of secrecy that often surrounds nuclear weapons should be expected to hamper this pro cess, making reevaluating the role nuclear weapons play in a state’s foreign policy harder.48 Second, the technical and military bu- reaucracies that often govern nuclear programs have been shown to be sus- ceptible to assumptions and groupthink that may make such innovation difficult, and, indeed, may build and protect bureaucratic structures that os- sify and reinforce part ic ul ar ways of thinking about the utility of nuclear weapons.49 Third, narratives about the utility of nuclear weapons may be re- sistant to change given that nuclear weapons are rarely used directly, mean- ing policymakers are unlikely to be confronted with unambiguous evidence of the utility or lack of utility of nuclear weapons in pursuing their foreign policy goals.50 Ultimately, however, w hether these effects endure is an em- pirical question. In the case studies, I therefore examine not only w hether states change their beh avi ors in the way the theory anticipates a fter they ac- quire nuclear weapons, but also w hether these beh avi ors, and the ideas about nuclear weapons that underpin them, appear to endure over a longer period of time. Second, it may be argued that nuclear weapons do not cause the be hav- iors outlined h ere, but are rather caused by the same f actors that lead states to acquire nuclear weapons in the first place. This is likely true, but it does not undermine the validity of the theory—in fact, it is consistent with, and anticipated by, the theory. According to the theory of nuclear opportunism, it may indeed be that states in part icu lar strategic environments face incen- tives to engage in par ticu lar foreign policy be hav iors. This in turn leads them both to acquire nuclear weapons to facilitate t hose beh avi ors and to engage in those beh av iors when they do so. But if states acquire nuclear weapons to facilitate part icu lar be hav iors and then use nuclear weapons to facilitate those beh avi ors, this would be evidence for rather than against the theory: nuclear weapons would be having a direct effect on the state’s ability to achieve its po liti cal goals as well as having a direct effect on its foreign pol- icies. Indeed, this would be entirely consistent with the vision of nuclear weapons implied by the theory of nuclear opportunism: as useful tools for pursuing a state’s preexisting po litic al priorities.51 It is also worth emphasizing that the theory of nuclear opportunism is not a theory of nuclear acquisition.52 The theory of nuclear opportunism speci- fies what a state is likely to use nuclear weapons to try to accomplish condi- tional on having made the decision to acquire, and acquired, nuclear weap- ons. In other words, the theory specifies what benefits a state is likely to seek from its nuclear weapons once the state has already concluded that the ben- efits of nuclear acquisition outweigh the costs. The theory does not have much to say about why some states will conclude that the benefits of nu- 28 nuclear opportunIsm clear acquisition outweigh the costs, or indeed, what those costs might be, and thus does not make predictions for which states w ill acquire nuclear weapons. Instead, it seeks to explain why t hose states that do acquire nu- clear weapons behave in par tic ul ar ways after having done so. Third, it may be argued that the theory is a significant oversimplification of the complex and probabilistic interactions between a range of international and domestic variables that likely govern a state’s response to nuclear ac- quisition in real ity. This is certainly true for at least three reasons. First, by using three simple variables that can be mea sured prior to a state acquiring nuclear weapons, the theory remains relatively parsimonious. Second, the theory examines only the benefits that nuclear weapons offer states and does not examine the costs that may accompany nuclear acquisition. The proc ess of proliferation can be dangerous for states, and nuclear weapons may also come with disadvantages. For example, Jervis argues that “the possession of nuclear weapons can decrease the state’s freedom of action by increasing the suspicion with which it is viewed.”53 Third, the theory is a choice theo- retic rather than a game theoretic or strategic one that ignores the actions that other actors can take to try to reduce the benefits that states gain from acquiring nuclear weapons. Naturally, as a result— and as is the case with all theories that aim to simplify a complex world—m any potentially impor- tant factors are left out. For example, variables relating to civil-m ilitary re- lations, leader psyc holo gy, and pol itic al ideology and ideas about nuclear weapons, international norms, and regime type are all left out of the theory. This is not to deny that these variables may sometimes m atter. For example, as I discuss in chapter 5, the distinctive ideas about nuclear weapons held by Mao Zedong and other Chinese leaders appear to have led to nuclear weapons having a limited effect on Chinese foreign policy.54 However, any theory must simplify the complexity of the real world. Indeed, and as I dis- cuss further below, if nuclear weapons bring with them serious costs in ad- dition to benefits, or if other states act strategically to take actions that mitigate the benefits a state receives from acquiring nuclear weapons, then this should in fact bias against observing an effect at the point of nuclear acquisition. Indeed, parsimony has virtues in this context. First, it is clearer whether the beh av ior of a given state supports or falsifies the theory if the predic- tions are clear. If a state that does not face serious territorial threats uses nu- clear weapons to facilitate aggression, for example, this would clearly count against the theory. If a theory is more complicated, t here may be more doubt about w hether a given case supports or undermines the theory. Second, a simple theory that uses variables that can be mea sured prior to nuclear ac- quisition can be used to predict the effects of nuclear acquisition before it happens. For example, the theory could be used to make predictions about how Iran might behave if it acquired nuclear weapons. Third, given the small number of states to have acquired nuclear weapons, adding additional 29 chapter 1 variables to the theory quickly leads to the probl em of “more inferences than observations.”55 More broadly, theorizing inevitably involves a trade-o ff be- tween explanatory power and parsimony. One could create a theory that was more parsimonious but that could explain fewer cases, and one could equally create a theory that was more complex but that could account for more cases. The theory here aims to offer a m iddle ground by being flexible enough to explain a range of state responses to nuclear acquisition but nonetheless suf- ficiently parsimonious to allow the theory to be tested empirically. Fourth, it may be argued that the theory ignores the diversity of pol itic al preferences that exist across states. For example, revisionist state preferences— emphasized in Kapur’s account of how nuclear weapons affect foreign policy— are not included in the theory.56 I choose to omit this variable b ecause the theory suggests that nuclear acquisition may make revisionism of vario us sorts more attractive to states. Including revisionist preferences in the theory, then, would be close to using the outcome being explained as one of the factors in the explanation (that is, that revisionist states engage in more revisionist be havi ors after acquiring nuclear weapons). Instead, the theory of nuclear opportunism tries to explain the type of revisionism that diff er ent states may engage in after nuclear acquisition using variables that can be observed and mea sured in de pen dently of that beh avi or. Fifth, the theory predicts that states w ill not use nuclear weapons to facili- tate one of the six be hav iors in the typology: compromise. The be hav ior is nonetheless retained within the typology for two reasons. First, nuclear weapons do reduce the cost of this beh avi or, and the typology would there- fore not be exhaustive if it w ere left out. Second, as discussed below, the idea that states w ill use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise is a core predic- tion of the theory of the nuclear revolution: b ecause nuclear weapons make states more secure, compromise should become less costly and more attrac- tive once a state has nuclear weapons. A complete test of the theory of nuclear opportunism against its competitors therefore requires acknowledging the possibility that states may use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise. It is also worth making clear why the theory of nuclear opportunism does not predict states will use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise. The theory suggests that states seek to use nuclear weapons to better their posi- tion in international politics, and use nuclear weapons as a tool with which to do so. This assumption— that states seek to gain benefits from having nu- clear weapons—c ould be justified by reference to a range of theories of in- ternational politics, including classical or offensive realism, as well as theo- ries based on bureaucratic politics or leader psy cholo gy. However, because of this assumption, it is unsurprising that the theory predicts that states would not acquire nuclear weapons only to then give up territory or other assets that they had previously wanted. While states may be coerced into compromise or make compromises voluntarily for a range of reasons, the theory of nuclear opportunism suggests that states are unlikely to deliber- 30 nuclear opportunIsm ately use nuclear weapons to facilitate this beh avi or. Ultimately, however, this is an observable implication of the theory that can be tested against the historical rec ord. Consistent with the theoretical expectations, and as dis- cussed above, there are few (if any) clear cases of states using nuclear weap- ons to facilitate compromise. Testing the Theory How should we best examine the validity of this theory? I test the theory using a series of historical case studies. In each case, the goal is to examine the state’s foreign policy in the period immediately before and a fter the ac- quisition of the relevant nuclear capability, and to assess w hether t here are changes in the scale and nature of the state’s foreign policies that occur at that point. (Exactly what the relevant nuclear capability is in each case is dis- cussed in more detail below.) If a state uses nuclear weapons to facilitate a part ic ul ar be hav ior, this means that the state engages in a par tic u lar foreign policy beh avi or that it would not engage in if it did not have nuclear weapons, that the state en- gages in a part icu lar foreign policy beh av ior to a greater degree than if it did not have nuclear weapons, or that a state uses nuclear weapons rather than other military tools to engage in a par tic ul ar be havi or (for example, us- ing nuclear weapons rather than conventional forces to deter an adversary). In each case, using nuclear weapons to facilitate a part icu l ar beh av ior should lead to observable shifts in the way foreign policy is conducted or imple- mented at the point of nuclear acquisition: in the beh av iors a state engages in, the levels or intensity of the be hav iors that a state engages in, or the tools that the state deploys to engage in those be hav iors. For example, evidence that a state is using nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression may include the state beginning to engage in operations it was previously deterred from un- dertaking, engaging in operations against an opponent of a type previously undertaken but d oing so more frequently or with greater intensity, or explic- itly using nuclear weapons to threaten and coerce an opponent it had previ- ously used conventional weapons to threaten and coerce. Examining changes in beh avi or at the point of acquisition is a good way to assess the effects of nuclear weapons b ecause to the extent that other factors that might affect foreign policy be hav ior do not change over the pe- riod of acquisition, we can be more confident that any discontinuity we ob- serve is caused by nuclear weapons rather than some other f actor. For ex- ample, stable (or extremely slow moving) variables such as po liti cal institutions, strategic culture, or the polarity of the international system are unlikely to be able to explain any discontinuity that occurs in a state’s foreign policy be hav ior at the point of nuclear acquisition, because such factors are stable over the period being analyzed.57 Of course, a downside of examining 31 chapter 1 changes in beh avi or only at the point of nuclear acquisition is that it does not allow us to assess how the effects of nuclear weapons change over time. For this reason, while I focus the case studies on the period immediately before and after nuclear acquisition, I also examine w hether the changes in beh avi or I identify and the ideas about nuclear weapons that underpin them appear to endure over time. Adopting a historical approach offers additional methodological advan- tages. First, it allows us to incorporate evidence from the discussions and writings of elites to increase our confidence that it is indeed nuclear weap- ons that are causing any change in be hav ior we observe at the point of nu- clear acquisition. For example, suppose that a country’s elites repeatedly state prior to acquiring nuclear weapons that they wish to gain nuclear weapons in order to allow them greater ind e pend ence from a patron, and we then observe them behaving more ind ep end ently of that patron a fter ac- quiring nuclear weapons. If we observe this, it is more reasonable to attri- bute that change in be havi or to nuclear acquisition than if we had simply observed the beh av ior change but did not observe the crucial historical evi- dence about the beliefs of po litic al elites. Because the way in which leaders think about nuclear weapons represents an import ant observable implica- tion of the theory of nuclear opportunism, a qualitative approach that allows that evidence to be incorporated provides substantial advantages. Second, the outcomes of interest—t he vario us foreign policy behaviors identified above— are not easily adapted from existing large-n datasets. For example, w hether a state pursues additional goals in an existing dispute (aggression) may not be fully captured by a change in the number of militarized inter- state disputes (MIDs) or interstate crises (for example, the International Cri- sis Be havi or dataset). While such existing datasets may offer insights into the foreign policy beh av iors of states, they are insufficient on their own and do not allow us to test many of the observable implications of the theory of nuclear opportunism.58 Indeed, t here are several reasons to think that this approach might under- estimate the true effects of nuclear weapons. First, the fact that the theory largely ignores strategic interaction may lead us to underestimate the effects of nuclear weapons. If states anticipate nuclear acquisition by another state, for example, they may take actions that minimize any benefits that nuclear acquisition has for the acquiring state. For example, adversaries may build up their conventional forces or alter their military doctrines to undercut the benefits of nuclear acquisition for the acquiring state.59 If so, such efforts by o thers w ill likely make it harder to observe the effects of nuclear weapons at the point of acquisition. Second, states may begin to receive some pol iti- cal benefits from their possession of nuclear technologies prior to the point of nuclear acquisition. For example, states may be able to use so- called nu- clear latency to extract diplomatic concessions or support from other states.60 Third, states may rationally and strategically seek to avoid taking full ad- 32 nuclear opportunIsm vantage of their nuclear weapons a fter acquiring them. States may be con- cerned about provoking reactive proliferation or provoking a balancing co- alit ion forming against them.61 Again, this would reduce the likelihood of seeing a substantial change in foreign policy beh avi or at the point of acqui- sition. All of this would suggest that if we nonetheless see a change in be- hav ior at the point of acquisition, we can be more confident that nuclear weapons are indeed playing a causal role. I choose cases based on two primary criteria. First, the three cases I use each provide hard cases for the theory. Picking hard cases allows for more confidence in the broader applicability or “external validity” of the find- ings—if we find support for the theory despite picking cases that we expect the theory w ill have difficulty explaining, it increases the likelihood that the theory w ill have some success in cases we do not examine in detail, or in cases that may emerge in the f uture. In part icu lar, I look for cases with strong “countervailing conditions”— variables whose presence in a part ic u lar case makes it less likely that the outcomes posited by the theory of nuclear op- portunism will be observed.62 A second criterion is the availability of primary documents or interview evidence about the foreign policy pro cess at the time of nuclear acquisition. This criterion increases the likelihood of identifying evidence about the precise point at which the state acquired the relevant ca- pabilities, and about the pro cess by which nuclear weapons affected (or did not affect) state foreign policy at the point of acquisition. Chapter 2 examines the case of Britain. Britain provides a hard case for the theory because many theories of international relations expect a state like Britain—a status quo, demo cratic, conventionally power ful state with a nuclear-a rmed patron and large geographic buffers between the state and its primary rival—to have l ittle need to prominently emphasize weapons of mass destruction in its foreign policy or to see a substantial effect of nuclear acquisition on its foreign policy. By contrast, the theory of nuclear oppor- tunism anticipates that Britain would use nuclear weapons to facilitate in- dep end ence from the United States, steadfastness in responding to chal- lenges, and the bolstering of ju nior allies. The second case is that of South Africa, examined in chapter 3. Again, a range of variables suggest that nuclear weapons would have a l imited ef- fect in the South African case: apartheid- era South Africa was more militar- ily powerf ul than its neighbors and had status quo preferences despite the racism and paranoia of the apartheid regime. South Africa’s primary goal was to maintain its domestic pol itic al institutions in the face of internal and external pressure. Further, South Africa developed only a small, secret, and unsophisticated arsenal. By contrast, the theory of nuclear opportunism an- ticipates that South Africa—e ngaged in an ongoing war in Angola and fac- ing the possibility of direct Soviet intervention in southern Africa that would overturn South Africa’s military advantages—w ould use nuclear weapons to facilitate both aggression and steadfastness against the source of threat. 33 chapter 1 The third case is that of the United States, examined in chapter 4. The the- ory of nuclear opportunism anticipates that the United States—e ngaged in a brutal war when it sought and acquired nuclear weapons— would use nu- clear weapons to engage in aggression against Japan (and would have used them for the same purpose against Germany had they been ready before the war in Eur ope ended). In the aftermath of World War II, the theory antici- pates that the United States—n ot facing any territorial threats and rising in relative power—w ould use nuclear weapons to facilitate the bolstering of its allies and an expansion of its position and ambitions in world politics. Thus, because the variables that the theory of nuclear opportunism identi- fies as conditioning the effects of nuclear acquisition change dramatically at the end of World War II, the theory predicts that nuclear weapons would affect US foreign policy differently during World War II and in the aftermath of the war. The case of the United States thus offers an additional set of ob- servable implications of the theory, making it a particularly useful test. The case is also highly historically unusual—t he United States was the first na- tion to acquire nuclear weapons and did so in highly abnormal historical circumstances. If the theory can nonetheless shed light on the way in which nuclear weapons affected US foreign policy, this would provide an impor- tant validation of the scope of the theory’s explanatory power.63 In each case, we need to identify the point in time at which nuclear acqui- sition occurred. This is import ant because the point of acquisition provides the point at which to look for changes in the state’s be hav ior. What matters in each case is identifying the point at which the state’s nuclear weapons can be deployed and used in the way the state intends. The technological require- ments for this will vary from state to state according to its nuclear posture.64 For example, South Africa— a country that intended to test nuclear weap- ons on its own territory in order to “catalyze” US intervention on its behalf— did not even require a fully deliverable weapon in order for nuclear weap- ons to affect its calculations about the risks of dif fer ent foreign policy options. As soon as South Africa possessed a testable device, the country could threaten to conduct a nuclear test and use that threat to raise the probability of US intervention on its behalf, thus reducing the risks associated with a range of foreign policy actions.65 On the other hand, for a country like Britain, which planned to deliver nuclear weapons to Soviet cities, a far more sophisti- cated capability was required before nuclear weapons began to affect Brit- ish foreign policy calculations. Because Britain had to be able to deliver nu- clear weapons to the Soviet Union, it was not u ntil 1955 that Britain had the capabilities required— well after its first nuclear test in 1952. Thus, in each case, it is necessary to pay significant attention to the state’s intended nu- clear posture, the manner in which the state intended to use its nuclear weapons, and the part ic ul ar technological requirements that such uses re- quire. This enables us to accurately identify the relevant point of acquisition 34 nuclear opportunIsm for each state, and therefore the appropriate point in time at which to look for discontinuities in foreign policy be hav ior. In each case, I also pay attention to whether alternative explanations per- form better than the theory of nuclear opportunism. I examine w hether the theory of the nuclear revolution, S. Paul Kapur’s theory of “strategic pessi- mism,” or case- specific explanations perform better than the theory of nu- clear opportunism. The theory of the nuclear revolution anticipates that states would use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness, compromise, and in de pen dence. Nuclear weapons facilitate steadfastness and ind ep en- dence b ecause, according to the theory of the nuclear revolution, t hese weap- ons make threats against that state less credible, whether from allies or en- emies. States should therefore be able to stand more firmly in defense of what they have (steadfastness), and in defying allies that disagree with them (in- de pen dence). Similarly, the theory of the nuclear revolution would also an- ticipate that states with nuclear weapons should be more willing to make compromises than states without nuclear weapons because the security pro- vided by nuclear weapons grants states the freedom to compromise on m atters that would previously have been too damaging to the state’s secu- rity.66 However, states should not use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggres- sion or expansion, because such theorists of the nuclear revolution view se- curity as the primary goal of states, and view aggression or expansion as be hav iors largely driven by insecurity. B ecause nuclear weapons make states more secure, they should make such be havi ors less attractive. Similarly, because alliances are typically viewed as responses to threats and thus de- fensive in nature, states should not be expected to use nuclear weapons to facilitate the bolstering of allies.67 S. Paul Kapur’s theory of “strategic pes- simism” makes predictions about only one be hav ior in the typology: aggres- sion. He argues that it is only conventionally weak states with revisionist preferences that should be expected to use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression.68 Chapters 2–4 assess whether the theory explains the cases of Britain, South Africa, and the United States. Chapter 5 then assesses the broader applica- bility of the theory by examining other cases of nuclear proliferation. While t hese descriptions inevitably contain less detailed analy sis and pro cess trac- ing than the three cases examined in chapters 2–4, they provide an initial assessment of whether the beh av ior of other states is consistent with the theory. 35 chapter 2 Ind e pen dence and Status The British Nuclear Experience Britain was the first non- superpower to acquire nuclear weapons a fter the United States and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), testing its first nuclear weapon in 1952. But despite becoming only the third nuclear- armed state, Britain faced profound uncertainty about its status and pros- pects as a world power. Britain had been on the winning side in World War II, but its finances and major cities had been ravaged by the war. Britain contin- ued to hold on to much of its empire and remained the preeminent power in the M iddle East, but tides of nationalism and decolonization w ere rising around the world. Britain retained the ambition of a global power but was increasingly dependent on the United States for its own security. What could nuclear weapons offer a state seeking to hold on to what it had as its position became increasingly hard to maintain? This chapter examines the ways in which nuclear weapons affected Brit- ish foreign policy after Britain acquired a deliverable nuclear capability in 1955. British elites believed that nuclear weapons helped Britain address two primary po liti cal concerns: reducing its dependence on the United States, and maintaining its position in international politics. Britain used nuclear weapons as a substitute for conventional forces it could no longer afford, granting it the ability to bolster its increasingly shaky alliance commitments. And by providing Britain with a source of deterrence u nder its own control, nuclear weapons allowed Britain to operate more ind ep en dently of the United States. Ultimately, however, although nuclear weapons were useful to Britain, they w ere not a “get out of jail f ree” card. Even with nuclear weap- ons, Britain could not resist the broader currents of nationalism, decoloni- zation, and pol itic al and economic decline in defi nitely. Britain’s status as a global power would ultimately come to an end despite Britain’s nuclear arsenal. The British case is particularly useful for testing the theory of nuclear op- portunism because it represents a “hard case” for the theory. Many theories 36 In de pen dence and status of, or commonly held intuitions about, international politics expect a state like Britain to have l ittle need to prominently emphasize nuclear weapons in its grand strategy. For example, for scholars who expect that nuclear weap- ons primarily change the foreign policies of revisionist states, Britain was a status quo state, seeking to hold on to its position in the world. For t hose who expect that nuclear weapons are most useful to weak and vulnerable states needing to deter severe threats, Britain was relatively secure, with sub- stantial conventional military power, a nuclear-a rmed ally committed to its protection, and highly defensible sea borders. These factors suggest that Brit- ain would have relatively l ittle need for nuclear weapons, and that acquir- ing nuclear weapons would have little effect on British foreign policy. If the theory of nuclear opportunism performs well in a case in which we expect that nuclear weapons would have little effect, this would provide an impor- tant validation for the theory. When Did Britain Acquire Nuclear Weapons? To look for changes in British foreign policy caused by nuclear weapons, we must first identify where to look. When did Britain acquire the relevant nu- clear capabilities that might cause it to change its foreign policy? As discussed in chapter 1, we need to pay attention to the intended Brit- ish nuclear posture, the manner in which Britain intended to use its nuclear weapons, and the par ticu l ar technological and military capabilities that such uses required. This enables us to identify the appropriate point in time at which to look for changes in foreign policy be havi or. The British planned to deliver their nuclear weapons to the air bases and cities of the Soviet Union.1 British doctrine thus required a strategic bomber force with sufficient range to reach targets within the Soviet Union.2 Britain did not have t hese capabilities when it first tested nuclear weapons in 1952. As the historian Matthew Jones writes in the official history of the British strategic deterrent: “The success of the first British atomic test . . . although undoubtedly impor tant for reasons of status and prestige, did not yet offer the UK a capability that made any appreciable difference.”3 British leaders understood the importance of delivery capabilities. Indeed, the Air Minis- try initiated the procurement proc ess for new and sophisticated bombers ca- pable of carry ing nuclear weapons as early as August 1946 (before the final pol iti cal decision in January 1947 to develop and manufacture a nuclear bomb).4 In 1954, two years after Britain’s first nuclear test, Prime Minister Winston Churchill nonetheless acknowledged that “we ourselves have no effective nuclear deterrents [though] we are making prog ress. . . . B ritish pos- session of nuclear weapons of the highest quality and on an appreciable scale, together with their means of delivery . . . should greatly reinforce the de- terrent power of the free world.”5 Anthony Eden, Churchill’s successor as 37 chapter 2 prime minister, noted in his memoirs that “alone among the allies of the United States, we w ere making nuclear bombs and building air power to de- liver them.”6 Similarly, the chief of the air staff Sir John Slessor argued in 1954 that Britain’s “ability to put those bombs down where we want to” was the crucial capability Britain required to gain benefits from nuclear weapons.7 It was in 1955, three years after Britain’s first nuclear test, as Britain’s new Valiant bombers came into serv ice and t rials to match the new weapons to the delivery vehicles w ere undertaken, that Britain was fin ally able to de- liver nuclear weapons to targets in the Soviet Union.8 The Canberra bomb- ers that Britain possessed before 1955 w ere capable of (though had not been designed for) delivering atomic weapons but did not have the range to reach the Soviet Union.9 On May 31, 1955, a top secret command directive was sent to the air marshal Sir George Mills informing him that he was now respon- sible for maintaining the Valiant bombers “at the highest standard of opera- tional efficiency” so that they would be ready “to strike immediately [upon] Her Majesty’s Government decid[ing] that an atomic offensive is to be launched.”10 Britain’s delivery capabilities would improve further after 1955. For example, the Valiants were less capable than the Victor and Vulcan bomb- ers (collectively known as the V- bombers), which came into serv ice in the late 1950s; Britain did not conduct a live drop from an aircraft u ntil Octo- ber 1956; and it was not until 1960 that British Bomber Command had its full planned complement of V- bomber squadrons. Nonetheless, the Valiants provided Britain with a basic strategic delivery capability from 1955 on- ward.11 As a secret Royal Air Force (RAF) history of the development of the strategic nuclear deterrent argues, it was in 1955 that “an A-b omb could have been deployed operationally by the RAF.”12 It is therefore in 1955 that we should expect that nuclear weapons would begin to affect British foreign policy. Britain’s Strategic Environment What effects should we expect nuclear weapons to have had on British for- eign policy? The theory of nuclear opportunism requires us to examine the strategic environment in which Britain found itself in 1955 to make predic- tions about how nuclear weapons would change British foreign policy, us- ing the sequence of variables laid out in chapter 1. The first variable in the sequence is the presence of a serious territorial threat or ongoing war requiring the dedication of significant national re- sources. Britain was not involved in any war at the point at which it ac- quired nuclear weapons. And as an island nation with considerable conven- tional power and a particularly powerf ul navy, Britain did not face serious territorial threats. British strategists were certainly acutely aware of Soviet military power, undoubtedly viewed the Soviet Union as an adversary with 38 In de pen dence and status aggressive intentions, and feared Soviet nuclear coercion. However, the So- viet Union did not pose a proximate threat to the British mainland, and Brit- ish strategists recognized that the Eng lish Channel and Western Eur ope (and the large number of US and NATO forces stationed t here) provided a substantial buffer between them and the Soviet Union.13 While Britain cer- tainly faced challenges within its empire, t hese did not pose threats to the British homeland, and primarily emerged from internal demands for self- determination within the colonies, rather than external foes.14 And despite Britain’s ongoing decline (discussed further below), it remained a conven- tionally powerf ul state. It was the third most powerf ul country in the world and continued to preside over a large empire and network of bases across strategically impor tant regions, including remaining the dominant power in the Middle East.15 The threats that Britain faced, therefore, do not amount to the level necessary to classify Britain as facing severe territorial threats. The second variable in the sequence is whether the state acquiring nuclear weapons has a se nior alliance partner that helps provide for the state’s de- fense. Britain did possess such an ally: the United States. The Anglo- American relationship, which had grown closer before World War II, transformed dur- ing the war. Even before the term “special relationship” was coined in a private communication by Winston Churchill in 1943, the United States had taken a key role in financing British security and supporting the British po- sition in the war through the destroyers-f or- bases deal in 1940 and Lend Lease in 1941.16 Cooperation between the two countries was so significant during the war that US Army chief of staff (and future state and defense sec- retary) General George Marshall claimed that Anglo-A merican planning in World War II represented “the most complete unification of military effort ever achieved by two allied states.”17 A fter the war, as British elites came to recognize the extent of British decline, American ascendancy, and the increas- ing Soviet threat, a consensus emerged that the partnership with the United States contributed in import ant ways to British security.18 Underpinned by a mutual interest in containing Soviet power and reinforced by cultural and linguistic ties, the Anglo- American relationship would play an increasingly import ant role in providing for British security. The Anglo-A merican loan of 1946, the Marshall Plan (around 30% of which was invested in Britain), and the formation of NATO all formalized this relationship in the immedi- ate postwar period. By the time Britain acquired nuclear weapons, the United States was a core contributor to British security. The third variable in the sequence is whether the state is rising or declin- ing in power relative to its key competitors. It is clear that Britain was in long- run relative decline.19 Britain had emerged from World War II victorious but bloodied and econ om ically weaker than in 1938: the value of British gold reserves had dropped from $864 to $453 million, a quarter of Britain’s over- seas investments had been sold to help fund the war effort, Britain’s exter- nal liabilities had risen from £760 to £3,353 million, and exports w ere down 39 chapter 2 30 percent.20 In the immediate aftermath of the war, British officials retained some optimism that Britain could recover its status as a g reat power.21 How- ever, Britain could not reverse the downward trends it faced. Britain suf- fered balance- of- payments crises in 1947 and 1949 and had to turn to the United States for economic support in 1945, 1947, and 1949.22 Well before the end of the 1940s, British officials had concluded that “weaknesses seemingly provisional in 1945 w ere . . . p ermanent. Optimism about the long-t erm re- covery of world power status for Britain was displaced by pessimistic ap- preciations of ebbing power.”23 This view was shared by American officials, with Secretary of State Dean Acheson declaring bluntly in 1947 that “the Brit- ish are finished. They are through.”24 Correspondingly, by the end of the 1940s, Britain was in the midst of re- trenchment. India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and Burma had achieved ind e pen- dence, and Britain’s ability to safeguard its interests around the world was open to serious doubt. The claim that Britain was declining in relative power at the point at which it acquired a deliverable nuclear capability is confirmed by the Correlates of War Proj ect’s CINC scores, which provide a meas ure of a state’s share of global power. Britain’s CINC score in 1955 was around 20 percent lower than it had been in 1950 and nearly 50 percent lower than it had been in 1939, and this downward trajectory would continue a fter Brit- ain acquired nuclear weapons.25 There is therefore no doubt that British power was on a downward trajectory at the point at which Britain acquired nuclear weapons. Expectations What predictions does the theory of nuclear opportunism make for a state in Britain’s position: not facing severe threats or involved in an ongoing war, dependent on a sen ior alliance partner, and declining in power? Figure 2.1 shows the application of the theory to the case of Britain. First, the theory suggests that Britain should not have found it attractive to use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. It is only states facing severe territorial threats or engaged in an ongoing war that must make it a pol iti- cal priority to directly improve their position against the source of the threats they face. For states in Britain’s position, the security environment is less con- stricting, and aggression is correspondingly relatively less attractive. The theory therefore does not anticipate Britain using nuclear weapons to facili- tate aggression. Second, the theory of nuclear opportunism suggests that states with a se- nior ally and not facing serious threats find it attractive to use nuclear weap- ons to facilitate in de pend ence from that ally. States whose security is partly provided for by a sen ior ally are constrained if they wish to engage in be- hav iors that the sen ior ally does not support. This constraint is typically 40 In de pen dence and status State faces serious Yes Aggression & 1. territorial threat/ steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence No from senior ally State is rising Yes Expansion,3. in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies No Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness towards rivals Figure 2.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to Britain, 1955 binding b ecause very few states’ interests converge entirely with those of their allies. And, indeed, the United States and Britain did not have the same interests. At the highest level (and most obviously), as a 1955 memo to the British Minister of Defence Harold Macmillan pointed out, “The preserva- tion of the United Kingdom is not of the same importance to the Americans as it is to us.”26 But even well below the level of national survival, Britain and the United States disagreed on a number of policy issues. Most promi- nently, the United States—i tself a former British colony—w as generally dis- inclined to prop up Britain’s increasingly shaky hold on its colonies. The con- straints imposed by dependence on a se nior ally mean that states not facing grave and immediate security threats are likely to be e ager to act more ind e- pen dently of their se nior ally.27 As discussed in chapter 1, nuclear weapons facilitate in de pen dence because they can serve as a partial substitute for the protection of a sen ior ally. The theory therefore anticipates that British elites would see nuclear weapons as a useful tool for avoiding dependence on the United States, and that Britain would have fewer qualms about acting ind e- pen dently of the United States after acquiring nuclear weapons. Third, the theory anticipates that states that are reasonably secure but de- clining in power are likely to view maintaining their position in international 41 chapter 2 politics as a pol iti cal priority, and view nuclear weapons as a useful tool in pursuing that goal. The theory therefore predicts that British elites should have found bolstering and steadfastness to be particularly attractive. States in relative decline find maintaining alliances in which they are the se nior partner to be increasingly costly and hard to sustain. Nuclear weapons pro- vide a lower- cost way of sustaining an alliance, because by adding a nuclear component to the alliance, the state can make an alliance commitment with fewer conventional forces. States in relative decline therefore tend to see nuclear weapons as a way of making existing commitments of this sort more affordable. Thus, the theory predicts that Britain would use nuclear weapons to bolster existing ju nior allies. Similarly, steadfastness— standing more firmly in defense of the status quo—is attractive for states trying to hold on to what they have, and the theory therefore predicts that Britain would use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness. Fi nally, the theory suggests that Britain would not find expansion attrac- tive. For states declining in power, holding on to what the state already has poses enough of a challenge. Widening a state’s goals in international poli- tics is unlikely to be feasible or attractive for such states, even if they ac- quire nuclear weapons. Similarly, compromise is not attractive to such states. For states seeking to maintain their position in international poli- tics, giving up that position after acquiring an additional source of military power is unattractive. The theory of nuclear opportunism, therefore, anticipates that Britain would use nuclear weapons to facilitate the bolstering of existing allies, steadfastness in response to challenges, and in dep end ence from the United States, but would not use nuclear weapons to facilitate expansion, aggres- sion, or compromise. In addition to t hese changes in British beh av ior, the theory also has implications for British elite thinking about nuclear weap- ons. British elites should have believed nuclear weapons w ere useful tools for advancing their interests, and, specifically, as tools for facilitating ind e- pend ence from the United States (that is, they should have believed nuclear weapons would help them reduce their dependence on the United States), and for bolstering allies and resisting challenges (that is, they should have believed nuclear weapons would help them maintain their position in in- ternational politics). British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons Did British elites think about nuclear weapons in the way the theory antici- pates? The theory of nuclear opportunism expects that British pol itic al and military elites should have viewed nuclear weapons as a solution to specific pol itic al prob lems. In par tic ul ar, the theory predicts that British elites would view nuclear weapons as a solution to the prob lem of dependence on the 42 In de pend ence and status United States, and as a tool that would help the British maintain their posi- tion in international politics despite ongoing British decline. Outside ana- lysts certainly believed that British strategists thought in t hese terms. As a 1949 memo to the US secretary of state outlined, the British motivations in pursuing a nuclear program w ere “(a) Freedom of action in terms of national self sufficiency . . . (b) National prestige and position . . . [ and] (c) Uncer- tainty and apprehension as to the attitude (and continuity of attitude) of the U.S. towards the U.K.”28 But did British elites think in this way? avoiding dependence on the united states It was in the aftermath of World War II that Britain began to pursue nuclear weapons in earnest and in which the most comprehensive thinking took place about what nuclear weapons would offer Britain in the postwar world. But the British program had its origins during the war. It is worth examining British thinking about nuclear weapons during World War II, because at first glance it would seem that the extensive Anglo-A merican cooperation in the Manhattan Proj ect indicates that concern about British dependence on the United States was not prominent in British thinking at the time. In fact, even during the war, concern about dependence on the United States was a key theme in British thinking. Indeed, the British had initially been reticent about cooperating with the United States for precisely this rea- son. The British had been the first government to identify the military po- tential of nuclear energy (a fter British officials learned of a memo written by two scholars at Birmingham University29), and a committee of scientists concluded in June 1941 that it would “be poss ib le to make an effective ura- nium bomb” that would be “likely to lead to decisive results in the war.”30 Because the British were ahead of the Americans, President Franklin D. Roo- se velt wrote to Churchill in October 1941 proposing a joint venture, stating, “It appears desirable that we should soon correspond . . . c oncerning the sub- ject which is under study by your MAUD Committee . . . i n order that any extended efforts may be coordinated or even jointly conducted.”31 Churchill only responded some two months later expressing a vague willingness to collaborate with the Americans.32 British officials discussing the possibility of collaboration raised concerns about the possibility of information leak- ing to the e nemy, but this was a largely instrumental excuse. The primary reason to avoid collaborating with the Americans was a desire to retain com- plete control over the British nuclear program.33 The British believed (cor- rectly, at that stage) that their bomb proje ct was more advanced than the American one, and w ere concerned about relying on American goodwill as well as the loss of scientific prestige and intellectual property of potentially significant commercial and strategic value. As Lord Cherwell, Churchill’s sci- entific adviser, had written in advocating for an in dep end ent British pro- gram, “However much I may trust my neighbour . . . I am very much averse 43 chapter 2 to putting myself completely at his mercy.”34 Churchill agreed, writing to his chief of staff that “action should be taken in the sense proposed [by Cherwell].”35 By the summer of 1942, however, the British had reluctantly come around to the necessity of collaboration. British scientists visiting the United States in 1942 realized that the Americans had overtaken the British in understand- ing the pro cesses for producing fissile material, and concluded that the costs of collaboration were outweighed by the vast resources the Americans could dedicate to the proj ect and the greater protection that they could con- fer upon a weapons program.36 In a memo to Churchill recommending pur- suing a joint proje ct, the home secretary Sir John Anderson acknowledged that “the Americans have been applying themselves with enthusiasm and a lavish expenditure. . . . I n t hese circumstances I have come to the conclusion [that] work on the bomb proj ect [should] be pursued as a combined Anglo- American effort. I make this recommendation with some reluctance, as I should have liked to have seen the work carried forward in this country. We must, however, face the fact that the pioneer work done in this country is a dwindling asset. We now have a real contribution to make to a ‘merger’. Soon we s hall have little or none.”37 Ultimately, the British came to conclude that cooperation with the Americans was now the quickest path to possess- ing nuclear weapons u nder British control. Dependence on American efforts, however, was never intended to be anything other than temporary.38 As An- derson explained to Churchill in 1942, cooperating with the Americans would allow British scientists to “take up the work again [a fter the war], not where we left off, but where the combined effort had by then brought it.”39 In another memo in 1943, he argued that “we cannot afford a fter the war to face the f uture without this weapon and rely entirely on Ameri ca.”40 Brit- ain’s unwillingness to make dependence on the United States a permanent feature of its nuclear program was exacerbated by the frustrations it experi- enced as part of the Manhattan Proje ct, with Churchill complaining to Roo- sev elt in 1943 about the lack of access to information that British scientists were getting.41 British concern about dependence on the United States persisted in the postwar era for three main reasons. First, Britain was concerned that the American commitment to the defense of Western Eur ope was less than ab- solute. As Prime Minister Clement Attlee later argued, “ There was always the possibility of [the United States] withdrawing and becoming isolation- ist again. The manufacture of a British atom bomb was therefore at that stage essential.”42 Even though the United States formalized its commitments to Western Eur ope through the Marshall Plan, the formation of NATO, and the deployment of US conventional forces, debates in the United States made clear that support for an enduring US military commitment to Western Eu- rope was far from unani mous.43 In the atomic realm, cooperation swiftly 44 In de pend ence and status stopped a fter the war. President Harry S. Truman did not feel bound by the Quebec agreement that Roos ev elt and Churchill had negotiated during the war, which had guaranteed Britain “full collaboration” on “military and commercial” applications of nuclear technology, and the passage of the McMahon Act in 1946 further prohibited such cooperation.44 Second, British planners were well aware that British and American interests di- verged on impor tant m atters. Of course, it was widely known that there w ere plausible scenarios in which the United States would not be inclined to help Britain prop up its increasingly shaky hold on its colonies. However, even within potential war scenarios in which US and British forces would be on the same side, British elites doubted that the United States fully shared Brit- ish priorities. As Churchill argued in the House of Commons in 1955, the British could “not be sure that in an emergency the resources of other pow- ers would be planned exactly as we would wish, or that the targets which would threaten us most would be given what we consider the necessary priority in the first few hours. T hese targets might be of such cardinal im- portance that it could r eally be a matter of life and death for us.”45 Third, British elites worried about entrapment and the compromises that depen- dence forced Britain to swallow. For example, Britain’s experience of the Korean War, in which Britain felt forced to back Washington despite sub- stantial Anglo-A merican disagreements over its conduct, emphasized that reliance on the United States could force Britain into conflicts it would not otherw ise need to fight.46 Similarly, US forces stationed in Britain could be a potentially high-p riority target for Soviet forces if a conflict threatened to escalate to the nuclear level, and threatened to suck Britain into a potential US- Soviet conflict. As Churchill stated in 1951, “We must not forget that by creating the American atomic base in East Anglia, we have made ourselves the target and perhaps the bull’s eye of a Soviet attack.”47 British elites viewed an in de pend ent nuclear capability as a solution to this probl em. In 1946, Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin declared that “w e’ve got to have this [nuclear weapons]. . . . I don’t want any other Foreign Sec- retary of this country to be talked at by a Secretary of State in the United States as I have just had in my discussions with Mr. Byrnes. We have got to have this t hing over here whate ver the costs. . . . We’ve got to have the bloody Union Jack flying on top of it.”48 In 1947, as the final decision to build the bomb was made, Bevin argued that “we could not afford to acquiesce in an American monop oly of this new development.”49 Prime Minister Attlee struck a similar tone, saying “we couldn’t allow ourselves to be wholly in their hands. . . . We c ouldn’t agree that only the Americans should have atomic energy.”50 On other occasions, Attlee used more emotive language to communicate the same point, arguing that the Americans “w ere inclined to think they were the big boys and we were the small boys; we just had to show them they didn’t know every thing.”51 Such views were shared by 45 chapter 2 British military leaders. The Chiefs of Staff argued that “it would be most unwise for the United Kingdom to be completely dependent on the United States and to accept the serious pol itic al disadvantages of not hav- ing a stock of atom bombs under its own control,” and that it would not “appear compatible with our status as a first-c lass power to depend on o thers for a weapon of this supreme importance.”52 Similarly, Sir John Slessor ad- vised that “we cannot possibly leave to an ally, however staunch and loyal, the monop oly of this instrument of such decisive importance.”53 For the chief scientist of the United Kingdom Ministry of Defence (MOD), failing to keep pace with nuclear technology would leave Britain “rely[ing] on the whim of the United States for the effectiveness of the whole basis of our strategy.”54 Of course, nuclear weapons were never seen as a full substitute for the relationship with the United States, and Britain continued both to invest in the Anglo- American relationship and to hope that the United States would ultimately protect the British if a major security threat emerged. Indeed, the paradox of Britain’s nuclear program was that, in the words of Matthew Jones, “the pursuit of in de pend ence also had as a goal the re- establishment of a nuclear relationship with the United States that some—at home and abroad— would see as compromising the exercise of national sovereignty.”55 British officials believed that having an ind ep end ent nuclear program would allow Britain to gain greater benefits from its relationship with the United States, particularly in the realm of nuclear cooperation and influence over American nuclear choices. As Lord Cherwell wrote in a memo to Churchill, “The possibility of achieving full collaboration concerning plutonium and hydrogen bombs with the U.S. will vanish u nless we have something [nu- clear weapons] of our own to show.”56 Similarly, Britain hoped that an ind e- pen dent nuclear force would allow it greater influence over US targeting plans.57 That Britain would seek both ind ep en dence and influence is not sur- prising: having more plausible exit options from the alliance (that is, greater ind ep en dence) should si mult a neously have strengthened Britain’s voice within the alliance (that is, resulted in greater influence).58 In this way, Brit- ish nuclear weapons were both a substitute for the alliance with the United States and a tool of influence within it. From the earliest days of the British nuclear program, therefore, and de- spite the pressures of fighting a world war that forced Britain into reluctant nuclear cooperation with the United States, British elites clearly believed— much as the theory of nuclear opportunism expects— that nuclear weapons w ere a useful tool with which to reduce their dependence on the United States. As I argue below, it is therefore unsurprising that the British became more willing to act ind e pen dently of the United States after acquiring nu- clear weapons. A fter all, this was an import ant reason that Britain had ac- quired nuclear weapons in the first place. 46 In de pend ence and status maintaining britain’s status and position Similarly, the desire to maintain Britain’s position and status in interna- tional politics in the face of its decline regularly appears in British elites’ discussions of acquiring nuclear weapons. This argument often took the form of assertions that Britain’s status demanded that it remain at the fore- front of military technologies: the historian Margaret Gowing, for example, writes that underpinning the British decision to build nuclear weapons w ere beliefs that “Britain as a great power must acquire all major new weapons, a feeling that atomic weapons were a manifestation of the scien- tific and technological superiority on which Britain’s strength, so deficient if mea sured in sheer numbers of men, must depend.”59 Lord Cherwell ad- vised Churchill that “it is surely vital, u nless we are to become a second- class nation armed with inferior weapons, that we should be in a position to make our own bombs.”60 A draft 1954 air force command directive to Air Marshal George Mills argued that the incoming Valiant squadrons and the nuclear weapons they would carry would provide Britain “the opportunity of again speaking with equal voice with other great powers.”61 Similarly, Sir John Slessor argued that British nuclear weapons were necessary “if we want to remain a first-c lass power.”62 After acquiring nuclear weapons, British ambassador to the United States Harold Caccia wrote in 1957 that “our acc ept ance as a g reat power now rests to a large extent on our having a nuclear program.”63 As discussed above, arguments about the utility of nuclear weapons for maintaining Britain’s status combined with concerns about dependence on the United States. It is hard to imagine a more explicit articulation of both of these views than the summary offered by Prime Min- ister Harold Macmillan, who argued explici tly in a 1958 telev i sion inter- view that Britain’s nuclear status gave Britain “a better position in the world and one as a great power . . . [and] made the [United States] pay greater re- gard to our point of view.”64 In addition to t hese somewhat amorphous claims that Britain’s status as a global power demanded the possession of nuclear weapons, there w ere also more concrete strategic arguments made connecting the maintenance of Britain’s position with nuclear weapons. In part ic ul ar, British elites be- lieved they would be able to use nuclear weapons to substitute for conven- tional forces that w ere becoming increasingly unaffordable. Nuclear weap- ons thus provided a way to reduce overall defense expenditures while maintaining Britain’s global commitments and allowing Britain to retain its position in the world even in the face of economic decline. British elites had recognized well before nuclear acquisition that Britain’s conventional posture would be profoundly affected by nuclear weapons. For example, a 1945 memo by Prime Minister Attlee recognized that “the emer- gence of the atomic bomb meant that many of our pre sent ideas on such matters as strategic bases and frontiers . . . must be regarded as obsolete,”65 47 chapter 2 and in 1946 the Cabinet Defence Committee “declined to endorse the con- clusions reached by the Chiefs of Staff on British strategic requirements in the M iddle East” u ntil they were able to assess the importance of “the latest developments in weapons and methods of war.”66 Moreover, British elites were u nder no illusions about the increasing economic difficulties facing the country, concerns that w ere exacerbated by the force buildup that occurred after the outbreak of the Korean War. These concerns continued throughout the 1950s, with incoming prime minister Anthony Eden told by his minister of defence in 1955 that “u nless existing programs w ere revised, the cost of defence would rise during the next four years from £1,527 million in 1955 to £1,929 million in 1959.”67 Eden agreed that this was unsustainable as he ini- tiated a reappraisal of British defense policy, stating: “We must now cut our coat according to our cloth. There is not much cloth.”68 By the time Britain tested its first nuclear weapon, British elites had be- gun viewing nuclear weapons as a solution to the prob lem of maintaining the British position despite its increasing economic weakness. By substi- tuting nuclear weapons for conventional forces, Britain could maintain its position at lower costs. In his private notes in 1952, Sir John Slessor was explicit that avoiding retrenchment despite the “economic crisis” facing Britain would require “preserving and increasing the main deterrent— atomic air power.”69 The idea of using nuclear weapons as a substitute for conventional forces was emphasized strongly in the 1952 Global Strategy Paper, one of the first documents to lay out an explicit strategy based on nuclear deterrence.70 And, indeed, starting in 1955, Britain began to substi- tute nuclear weapons for conventional forces. Although the 1952 Global Strategy Paper had endorsed nuclear weapons being used as a substitute for conventional forces, the 1952 paper did not result in an immediate shift in Britain’s force structure.71 Reinforcing the argument above that Britain needed the ability to deliver nuclear weapons before British strategy could change, it was in 1955 that the concepts articulated in the 1952 paper began to be reflected in Britain’s conventional posture.72 British conventional manpower stayed between 800,000 and 850,000 between 1951 and 1954, but beginning in 1955, British manpower began to decrease at a significant rate, dropping to 750,000 in 1956, 700,000 in 1957, 615,000 in 1958, 565,000 in 1959, and 520,000 in 1960.73 A fter acquiring nuclear weapons, Britain thus reduced its manpower by around a third in five years. Similarly, overall defense expenditure was held constant in 1956 (a decline in real terms and as a percentage of gross national product [GNP]), and subsequently fell as British planners placed greater reliance on nuclear weapons.74 British elites w ere clear that this substitution was occurring. As Eden stated explici tly, it is on “the atomic weapons that we now rely, not only to deter aggression but to deal with aggression if it should be launched. . . . W e are spending too much on forces of types which are no longer of primary importance.”75 To avoid Britain’s defense commitments further damaging the British 48 In de pen dence and status economy, he believed it essential to continue to move toward greater reli- ance on nuclear weapons. The 1957 Defence White Paper ossified these trends. The minister of de- fence, Duncan Sandys, had his powers strengthened by the prime minister so that he would be able to succeed in securing substantial further reduc- tions in military expenditure and manpower, and reo rienting British forces toward nuclear weapons.76 Sandys was not motivated simply by cost cut- ting and had a broader strategic vision emphasizing the utility of nuclear weapons and ballistic missiles that emerged leading Britain’s efforts against German V-1 and V-2 missiles during World War II.77 Nonetheless, he aimed to reduce annual expenditure from around £1,600 million to around £1,300 million and proposed further deep cuts in the size of the armed forces from 690,000 to 375,000 and to end conscription, a development Prime Minister Macmillan explici tly stated in the House of Commons “must depend on the ac cept ance of nuclear weapons.”78 Crucially, however, nuclear weapons did not simply permit Britain to re- duce expenditure on conventional forces. They would allow Britain to do so without changing Britain’s pol iti cal commitments or overall strategic position. As an internal RAF history stated: “The nuclear dimension of defence . . . was seen as providing the opportunity for economies in defence . . . without any sacrifices in national security or international influence.”79 Overall, British elites thought about nuclear weapons in the way the the- ory of nuclear opportunism suggests. British elites clearly believed nuclear weapons would be useful to them: first, as a solution to the prob lem of de- pendence on the United States, and, second, as a tool with which Britain could maintain its position in the world by substituting nuclear weapons for conventional forces. British Foreign Policy British elites therefore thought about nuclear weapons in the way the the- ory suggests. But did British foreign policy actually change after acquiring nuclear weapons? Was British elite thinking about how nuclear weapons would be useful to Britain actually translated into British foreign policy? This section asks whether British foreign policy be havi or changed in 1955 in the way the theory expects. Much of this evidence is correlational—it shows that changes in beh avi or occurred at the time the theory expects that beh av ior would have changed. In some cases, we can find clear evidence that nuclear weapons caused the change; for example, as I show below, Britain was explicit that it was using its nuclear weapons to bolster existing alliances. In other cases, it is less clear that nuclear weapons caused the change. However, even correlational evi- dence can be powerf ul if combined with the evidence of British elite thinking 49 chapter 2 discussed above. For example, if British elites repeatedly stated they wanted nuclear weapons to reduce their dependence on the United States, and then began behaving more in dep en dently a fter acquiring nuclear weap- ons, then the beh avi or and elite thinking are consistent in a way that sug- gests nuclear weapons likely caused the change in beh av ior we observe. aggression and expansion As discussed above, Britain had status quo preferences when it acquired nuclear weapons: Britain was trying to hold on to what it had. And British elites viewed nuclear weapons in this light—t hey did not view nuclear weapons as a tool that would be useful for expanding the British position in the world or behaving more aggressively in ongoing disputes. It would therefore be surprising if Britain were to engage in either increased aggres- sion or expansion in the period following nuclear acquisition— merely hold- ing on to what Britain already had was challenging enough. And, indeed, there is little evidence that Britain began behaving more ag- gressively after acquiring nuclear weapons. Figure 2.2 shows the MIDs in- volving Britain over time (for comparison, the disputes of other countries are included). If Britain became more aggressive a fter acquiring nuclear weapons, we would expect to see Britain involved in more conflict in the pe- riod a fter acquiring a deliverable capability. As can be seen, Britain was in- volved in between two and three MIDs per year on average, but this did not change substantially a fter 1955 (restricting the sample to MIDs in which Brit- ain was the revisionist power does not change the results). In the ten years preceding 1955, Britain engaged in an average of 2.6 MIDs per year, and in the ten years following, Britain engaged in an average of 2.3 MIDs per year.80 While Britain was involved in more militarized disputes than most coun- tries in the world (as would be expected given the British position in the world and its relatively powerf ul conventional military), t here is l ittle evi- dence of a substantial change when Britain acquired nuclear weapons. If any- thing, the number of MIDs involving Britain may have decreased slightly after 1955. Another indication of aggression would be if Britain became substantially more willing in the post-1955 era to aggress against its rivals. Britain’s only enduring rivalry over the period was with the Soviet Union, and there is little evidence that Britain became more aggressive toward either the Soviet Union or its proxies.81 Britain remained committed to resisting encroachment by the Soviet Union— particularly in the Middle East where Britain remained (for the time being) the dominant power. And, as I discuss below, Britain became more willing to stand up to challenges to its position after acquiring a deliv- erable capability. This beh av ior certainly led to tensions with the Soviet Union on occasion, most notably during the Suez Crisis, in which the Soviet Union made clear threats to the United Kingdom. But in t hese cases the Brit- 50 In de pen dence and status 1945 1950 1955 1960 1965 Year Britain Other country Year of acquisition Figure 2.2. MIDs involving Britain over time ish were responding to what they perceived to be serious challenges to the status quo (in the case of Suez, the nationalization of the Suez Canal), and so these be hav iors are more accurately seen as instances of steadfastness than aggression. Similarly, Britain did not expand its interests over this time period. As I discuss in detail below, Britain sought to use nuclear weapons to bolster its existing allies in Asia, the M iddle East, and Eur ope, but did not seek to widen British commitments. Britain hoped to use nuclear weapons to place increas- ing emphasis on nuclear weapons at the expense of conventional forces, and thereby reduce the cost of maintaining British commitments. Nor did Britain initiate any new rivalries over the period.82 Little consideration was given to expanding the British position in the world, and such an effort would have been foolish for a declining state such as Britain to engage in. bolstering When Britain acquired a deliverable nuclear capability, its military and economic power was far less than that of the Soviet Union and the United States. Despite this, Britain’s commitment to play a major role on the world stage remained, and of the eleven and a third British Army divisions, ten and a half w ere stationed outside the United Kingdom, spread across Eur ope, Asia, the Middle East, and Africa.83 This section examines the three major al- liance networks of which Britain was a part: the South East Asia Treaty Organ ization (SEATO) in Asia, the Baghdad Pact in the M iddle East (which in 1958 became the Central Treaty Organi zation [CENTO]), and NATO in Eu- rope. In each of t hese alliances, beginning in around 1955, Britain sought to 51 Number of MIDs 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 chapter 2 use nuclear weapons to bridge the gap between the pol itic al commitments that Britain had a dopted and Britain’s declining conventional military and financial resources. By the late 1950s, all three alliances would see Britain’s commitment become increasingly dependent on nuclear weapons. Thus, de- spite ongoing efforts to reduce defense expenditures, Britain used nuclear weapons to bolster its existing allies. Nuclear weapons offered a cheaper and more affordable way to maintain the credibility of its commitments to allies. From the early 1950s, Britain had sought to formalize the many alliance relationships it had in Asia, with the hope of better protecting British inter- ests in the region, including maintaining the security of Malaysia and Sin- gapore, and protecting the British position in Hong Kong. Britain had been excluded from joining the 1951 Australia, New Zealand, United States Se- curity Treaty (ANZUS) but succeeded in September 1954 when the United States, United Kingdom, France, Pakistan, Thailand, the Philippines, Aus- tralia, and New Zealand created SEATO.84 A fter the establishment of SEATO in 1954, South-E ast Asian states made a number of attempts to persuade British planners to confirm the details of British conventional deployments to the alliance. However, while British elites believed that SEATO served impor tant strategic and po liti cal purposes, Eden and other sen ior leaders w ere unable to commit large numbers of con- ventional forces to the region beyond t hose in Malaya (now Malaysia), and the alliance lacked the ability to meet a large- scale Chinese offensive with conventional forces. The United States was also unwilling to make any firm commitment of forces to the defense of South East Asia (and certainly not forward- deployed forces as in NATO), or even to participate in an institu- tional architecture that would facilitate military planning for the region.85 SEATO member states were well aware of, and uneasy about, the alliance’s apparent lack of military capability. The Chiefs of Staff acknowledged that “it has also proved difficult to convince the Australians that the United King- dom regards the defence of South East Asia . . . o f being of equal impor- tance to theatres nearer home.”86 The Philippines complained to the United States about “the utter lack of accomplishment of the organ ization,” feelings shared by other treaty members.87 Both Britain and the United States w ere aware of these concerns, with a State Department official telling the British embassy in Washington that “we must breathe life into the blue baby [SEATO].”88 Nuclear weapons offered a solution to this probl em and w ere thus used to underpin the credibility of the alliance.89 Plans to use nuclear weapons, it was concluded, could reassure British allies without producing a greater call on British resources. In February 1956 the Joint Planning Staff concluded that it was “essential that the future strategy for the defence of the treaty area . . . be based on the assumption that nuclear weapons would be used by SEATO” and that “large scale reductions in our conventional forces would not be pos- sib le unless . . . it may be assumed that nuclear weapons would be used.”90 52 In de pen dence and status The British Joint Planning Staff emphasized that “the use of nuclear air power must form the basis of our strategy [in the Far East]. Care should be taken, therefore, to avoid undue emphasis being placed on the land campaign in the development of a strategic concept for the region.”91 At the SEATO Coun- cil meeting in March 1956, it was agreed that nuclear weapons would be incorporated into SEATO military planning assumptions. In the same year, the British Joint Intelligence Committee stated that “nuclear counter mea- sures will be available” for the defense of British interests in Asia.92 Britain thus began to draw up plans for nuclear deployments to the region, and in February 1957, it announced publicly that its contribution to the defense of the treaty area would indeed include nuclear- capable delivery platforms, in- cluding V- bombers flown from the UK, and carrier- borne aircraft based in Far Eastern w aters.93 British force requirements for SEATO missions included squadrons of nuclear-c apable aircraft, and Britain drew up more specific plans to use nuclear weapons in part ic u lar scenarios, such as against targets in China or North Vietnam.94 Such plans appear to have worked as intended by facilitating the withdrawal of conventional forces while sim ul ta neously reassuring allies. For example, when Australian prime minister Robert Men- zies visited London in 1957 to be briefed on the implications of the Sandys White Paper (which included plans to reduce British deployments in Ma- laya from 20,000 to 11,000), he was mollified by plans to deploy three squad- rons of V- bombers to the region if a major threat appeared imminent.95 The same story played out in the Middle East. Britain remained the most militarily powerf ul state in the M iddle East for much of the 1950s, but Brit- ish conventional capabilities were increasingly stretched and eco nomi cally unsustainable as the defense of Western Eu rope became a relatively higher priority for British planners than the M iddle East. The British w ere well aware of these trends. A 1950 report for the Chiefs of Staff acknowledged “the little the United Kingdom can actually do to protect the M iddle East,”96 and in 1952, the Chiefs of Staff informed the cabinet that “we are faced with the fact that the United Kingdom cannot afford to maintain its pres ent forces [in the M iddle East].”97 In April 1955 Britain sought to reinforce its position in the M iddle East by joining the Baghdad Pact. Britain believed the pact served multiple ends: to protect the northern limits of the M iddle East against the Soviet Union, to limit Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser’s influ- ence throughout the Middle East, to constrain increasing American influence in Iraq, and to protect British oil investments in Iraq and the Persian Gulf.98 The extent to which Britain hoped to use the pact as a tool for pursuing its economic and po litic al goals in the Middle East irritated the United States, which ultimately declined to join for that reason: as Secretary of State John Foster Dulles noted, “The British have taken it over and run it as an instru- ment of British policy.”99 Britain could not, however, afford to contribute large numbers of conven- tional forces to the alliance, and there was a widespread understanding that 53 chapter 2 a conventional defense of the M iddle East in global war was well beyond Britain’s capabilities. A Joint Planning Staff paper in 1956 concluded bluntly that Baghdad Pact allies “cannot afford to maintain adequate forces . . . t o fight a conventional war with Russ ia.”100 As in Asia, British reticence to com- mit conventional forces caused unease among allies, with the Joint Plan- ning Staff noting that “it required a lot of talking to persuade the other plan- ners that the United Kingdom was not trying to avoid helping in the land battle.”101 Ultimately, the Ministry of Defence had to acknowledge that “we have neither the men nor the money . . . to make the Baghdad Pact effective militarily.”102 Nuclear weapons, as they had in Asia, provided a solution to the prob- lem of maintaining alliance credibility while reducing conventional force commitments. The Chiefs of Staff concluded that “many of the targets se- lected [in war plans for the defense of the Middle East] are suitable for con- ventional attack, but nuclear attack would make poss ib le a more econ om- ical Allied requirement of forces and munitions.”103 Another report by the Chiefs of Staff on British requirements in the M iddle East argued “the im- plications of nuclear strategy have outmoded a concept embracing large con- ventional forces.”104 Minister of Defence Harold Macmillan discussed the utility of nuclear weapons for defending the Middle East and Asia explic- itly in 1955, when he stated in the House of Commons that “the power of interdiction upon invading columns by nuclear weapons gives a new aspect altogether to strategy, both in the Middle East and the Far East. It affords a breathing space . . . for the assembly . . . o f larger defensive forces than can normally be stationed permanently in those areas.”105 Accordingly, nuclear weapons became increasingly prominent in British plans for the defense of the M iddle East. In 1955, a British planning docu- ment confirmed that Britain planned to launch nuclear attacks from the Middle East, and in 1956 the Joint Planning Staff wrote that “the main United Kingdom contribution to the military effectiveness of the Baghdad Pact will be nuclear interdiction.”106 A Joint Planning Staff document concluded that “ there can be no doubt that it is only by the use of nuclear weapons that the Soviet threat can be reduced sufficiently to bring it within the capability of the Baghdad Pact to withstand. The concept of defence of the Baghdad Pact area . . . is therefore based on the use of such weapons [which] must be pro- vided for them [by the United Kingdom],” while another stated that “the whole concept for the defence of the area in global war relies on nuclear interdiction.”107 Britain sought to use its nuclear weapons as its primary contribution to the Baghdad Pact in 1955, seeking to avoid large force com- mitments by instead relying on the threat of massive nuclear retaliation to deter aggression.108 An internal RAF history makes clear that “nuclear strike was seen as the main component of the assistance which could be offered [to the Baghdad Pact],” although there was ambiguity about exactly how and u nder what circumstances Britain would conduct nuclear operations in 54 In de pend ence and status support of the Baghdad Pact.109 However, Britain was not squeamish about deploying nuclear assets close to the M iddle East. As early as November 1955, “the plans w ere for two [British] Canberra B2 squadrons” to be deployed in the Middle East Air Force, and “it was considered that they would then, or shortly afterwards, be capable of carry ing nuclear weapons.”110 As Britain acquired a deliverable nuclear capability, it thus sought to shore up its increasingly shaky alliance commitments in the Middle East, much as it had in Asia. Nuclear weapons allowed Britain to bolster its allies in the Middle East and maintain its position and influence without making con- ventional military commitments it could no longer afford. Britain’s most import ant alliance, of course, was NATO—t he alliance that played an import ant role in providing for Britain’s own security. H ere, too, Britain sought to use nuclear weapons to strengthen the credibility of NATO while reducing British conventional and financial commitments to the alli- ance. In d oing so, Britain also showed greater in de pend ence from the United States, by seeking to change NATO strategy in Eur ope against American wishes. The MC 48 strategic concept that NATO a dopted in 1954 caused unease in London because of its vision of a “two- phase war” in which conventional forces would fight even a fter a thermonuclear exchange between the Soviet Union and the United States.111 Britain was unwilling to make the conven- tional commitments necessary to make such plans for “broken back” war- fare credible. Much as it had in Asia and the Middle East, Britain argued that its nuclear weapons allowed it to place less emphasis on its conventional forces, with the cabinet agreeing that while Britain should “express our read- iness to maintain, for the next few years, the pre sent fighting capacity of the United Kingdom . . . the introduction of new weapons might call for some variation in the size and shape of our forces.” What this meant in concrete terms was that it might be “poss ib le to maintain the pres ent fighting capac- ity of our forces on the Continent with fewer men.”112 Britain began to in- creasingly voice disapproval of NATO’s strategy and sought to encourage NATO as a whole to change its posture during the Annual Review pro cess. As Eden argued in a letter to President Dwight D. Eisenhower in July 1956, “A ‘shield’ of conventional forces is still required: but it is no longer our prin- cipal military protection. Need it be capable of fighting a major land battle? Its primary military function seems now to be to deal with any local infil- tration, to prevent external intimidation and to enable aggression to be iden- tified.”113 The Chiefs of Staff agreed that “as long as we [NATO] have the deterrent and are prepared to use it, it w ill be effective against lesser forms of war in Eur ope [in addition to deterring nuclear war]” and that as a re- sult, “it will not be necessary to maintain large conventional forces.”114 Large numbers of conventional forces or other deterrents “do not add mate- rially to the effectiveness of the primary deterrent and their cost weakens the economic strength of NATO states.”115 Similarly, Minister of Defence Walter 55 chapter 2 Monckton rejected the idea that NATO needed to build up conventional forces sufficient to hold and defeat an all- out attack by the Soviet Union.116 The Americans did not appreciate British efforts to change NATO’s strat- egy, expressing concern that British conventional withdrawals would cause other NATO members to make similar withdrawals. Secretary of State Dulles argued that “we find unacceptable any proposal which implies the adop- tion of a NATO strategy of total reliance on nuclear retaliation” and that “the Eu ro pean nations should increasingly assume a greater share of responsi- bility for the ready forces required on the Continent to provide the shield which NATO strategy envisages.”117 In a meeting with Macmillan, he was equally blunt: “We do not wish our capability to be so exclusively depen- dent on atomic weapons that t here is no meas ure of flexibility” and that “the US [could not] accept the idea that t here was no need for substantial man- power because any attack would set off massive retaliation and in that pro- vide a sufficient deterrent.”118 Ultimately, neither the United States nor Brit- ain backed down. NATO did not change its strategy in accordance with British preferences, but the British did not give way to American preferences. Britain did reduce its own conventional commitment at the NATO Council meeting in December 1956.119 Further reductions were made over the next few years, with Britain gaining NATO acc ept ance for a reduction of 31,500 men (leaving around 63,000) by April 1958.120 As with its alliances in Asia and the Middle East, Britain’s strategic ambition and po liti cal commitments to Eur ope had not changed, but the conventional commitment it was will- ing to make had been reduced: “The Army’s tasks, within and outside Eu- rope, remained; it simply had less with which to meet them.”121 Overall, therefore, British policy t oward NATO represents the British using nuclear weapons to facilitate a combination of bolstering and ind e pend ence from the United States. The same pattern was therefore observed across Britain’s most impor tant alliances in Asia, the M iddle East, and Eur ope. In 1955, as Britain came into possession of a deliverable nuclear capability, it explici tly sought to use its nuclear weapons to bolster its relationships in Asia and the M iddle East. Brit- ain used nuclear weapons to increase alliance credibility while reducing British expenditures and conventional commitments to t hose alliances. In NATO, Britain sought to pursue much the same strategy but ran into Amer- ican opposition that hindered British efforts to persuade the alliance to move in the direction that Britain sought. In short, British nuclear weapons affected British foreign policy t oward its alliances through the efficiency mechanism described in chapter 1: they reduced the costs of Britain’s alliance commit- ments. As an RAF internal history states: “Overall, no overseas commitments had been dropped, but reductions in the level of military support were in prospect and the RAF [the ser vice with the ability to deliver nuclear weap- ons] was seen as having a major part to play in offsetting their effect.”122 This is consistent with the expectations of the theory of nuclear opportunism. 56 In de pend ence and status in dep end ence, steadfastness, and compromise To assess whether Britain exhibited greater levels of in dep end ence, stead- fastness, and compromise after acquiring a deliverable nuclear capability in 1955, I examine British beh av ior in a series of crises in which Britain was challenged by other states between 1950 and 1960. Because the theory of nu- clear opportunism anticipates Britain using nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness when challenged, we should expect to see Britain respond more forcefully to challenges after 1955. And in crises where British and US preferences diverged, we should expect to see Britain becoming less defer- ential to US preferences (that is, showing greater in de pend ence) a fter 1955. In order to do this, I examine British responses to crises in the M iddle East. I choose the Middle East for three reasons. First, over this period the British position in the Middle East was subjected to numerous challenges. Examin- ing how Britain responded to these challenges offers us a number of crises in a reasonably narrow wind ow before and a fter nuclearization, thus holding a range of f actors constant and making it more likely that nuclear weapons caused any changes in be hav ior that we observe. Second, the Middle East was a region in which US and British preferences differed substantially. As a result, examining crises in the Middle East allows us to assess whether Britain became less deferential to US policy preferences and willing to re- spond to challenges more in de pend ently of the United States, as the theory of nuclear opportunism would suggest. Third, I use the M iddle East b ecause Britain was the dominant power in the Middle East in the early 1950s and determined to retain its position.123 Any change in be hav ior associated with nuclear weapons cannot, therefore, be attributed to conventional weakness or revisionism, as Kapur’s theory of “strategic pessimism” would suggest.124 I examine Britain’s response to six challenges to its position: the national- ization of the Anglo- Iranian Oil Com pany (AIOC) by Muhammad Mossa- degh in 1951, efforts by Nasser to eject the British from Suez from 1952 to 1954, the Saudi occupation of Buraimi in 1952, the Suez Crisis in 1956, and subsequent crises in Oman and Jordan. I show that before acquiring a deliv- erable nuclear capability in 1955, Britain was extremely wary of responding to challenges with force without the support of the United States, and Brit- ish responses w ere characterized by compromise and deference to US pref- erences. After 1955, Britain became more willing to use force unilaterally, paid less attention to US preferences, and was less inclined to compromise. Britain, therefore, exhibited significantly greater levels of ind ep en dence, steadfastness, and a reduced inclination to compromise after acquiring a de- liverable nuclear capability. Iran, 1951 The nationalization of the AIOC by Mossadegh in 1951 had its roots in the early twentieth c entury. It was in 1914 that then First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill persuaded the British government to acquire 57 chapter 2 a majority stake in what was then the Anglo- Persian Oil Com pany (APOC).125 The shah of Iran had negotiated a sixty- year agreement in 1933 on the terms on which APOC could extract and sell oil, but in the aftermath of World War II, changes in the British government’s tax and dividend policy led to an in- creasing disparity in the revenues that Britain and Iran received from Ira- nian oil sales.126 These disparities fueled Iran ian anger over Britain’s unwill- ingness to renegotiate the terms of the 1933 agreement. The British were concerned that any change in AIOC’s concession could damage the British economy, although the Foreign Office acknowledged internally that the Ira- ni ans had “legitimate grievance[s].”127 In July 1949, the AIOC and Iran signed a new “supplemental” agreement that substantially increased Iran ian oil rev- enues.128 However, increasing anti-B ritish sentiment within Iran meant that the Ira nian parliament never ratified the deal, and on April 28, 1950, the Na- tional Front’s Muhammad Mossadegh was elected to the country’s pre- miership. With anti- British sentiment at an all- time high and Ira nian anger focused on Anglo- Iranian oil, even an offer of a fifty- fifty split by the AIOC was not enough. Mossadegh had declared that “the source of all the misfor- tunes of this tortured nation is only the oil comp any,” and by early May, Iran had nationalized its oil. The AIOC facilities in Iran, and the oil they extracted, now belonged solely to Iran.129 The loss of Ira nian oil was viewed as a di- sastrous development for Britain. In the words of the historian H. W. Brands, the nationalization of AIOC “portended the apocalypse, to judge by the re- actions of some in London.”130 For three months a fter the nationalization of AIOC, Britain seriously considered a military response.131 Ultimately, how- ever, Britain de cided against military intervention. The decision not to undertake military action was not due to a lack of mil- itary options. While the British concluded that securing and holding Iran’s inland oil fields would be beyond their military capabilities, a more limited plan—k nown as Plan Y—to occupy Abadan Island and retake control of the refinery was thought to be within British capabilities. A memorandum to the British cabinet stated that “the Chiefs of Staff have concluded . . . that it would be feasible at short notice to occupy and hold Abadan against any opposition which the Persians unaided would be likely to be able to mount.”132 The US embassy in London cabled Washington stating that it was becoming “increasingly concerned . . . [that the] UK [is] preparing [to] use force in Iran.”133 Plans w ere developed over the summer of 1951, and by Sep- tember, Britain was in a position to launch an operation to seize Abadan Island within twelve hours of a decision to do so.134 Nor was the decision to eschew a military solution made b ecause Abadan was of limited importance to the British. On the contrary, the fa cil i ty at Abadan was the world’s largest oil refinery, Britain’s largest single overseas investment, and had played a critical role in supporting the British war ef- fort.135 Indeed, Abadan was of sufficient importance to the British that the 58 In de pend ence and status foreign secretary argued that retaining it may be worth risking Soviet inter- vention in Iran: “The risk of the Rus sians occupying Northern Persia might be worth accepting provided that we retained full control of the Abadan re- finery.”136 As Britain sought to recover eco nomi cally in the aftermath of the war, “sterling” or “dollar-f ree” oil extracted from British concessions was viewed as critically impor tant to reducing the British dollar deficit.137 The British believed that the status of sterling was critical to Britain’s international position, to which the dollar deficit on oil posed an import ant threat.138 Anglo- Iranian oil was at the center of this strategy to preserve the status of sterling. This was not only because AIOC was an entirely British entity but also b ecause the government itself had a 51 p ercent stake in the comp any (unlike other partly British-o wned companies such as Royal Dutch-S hell). The money that Britain received from Ira nian oil constituted 4 percent of Brit- ain’s entire balance of payments.139 It is no exaggeration to say that British officials both in the Treas ury and at the Bank of E ngland believed that the status of the pound as an international currency and Britain’s position in the international system depended on British control over Iran ian oil.140 As Chan- cellor R. A. Butler stated in November 1951, Ameri ca needed to understand that Britain’s “economic viability was at stake.”141 The British ambassador agreed, telling US officials that the British doubted w hether the United States “recognized adequately that the British are dealing with a prime strategic necessity.”142 The lack of a British military response to the nationalization of AIOC cannot, therefore, be attributed to the l imited importance of the Abadan fac il it y. Instead, Britain dec ided against a military response b ecause the United States was strongly opposed to the use of force.143 For the United States, the dispute over AIOC was subordinate to the broader goal of keeping Iran out of the Soviet sphere, but in 1951 the United States felt too weak to provoke a dispute that might risk war with the Soviet Union. A 1921 Soviet- Iranian friendship pact gave the Soviet Union the authority to intervene if Iran w ere invaded, and the Americans therefore worried that British military action would “split the free world, would produce a chaotic situation in Iran, and might cause the Iran ian Government to turn to the Soviet Union for help.”144 Truman instructed Attlee that “no action should be taken . . . w hich would result in disagreement between Iran and the free world.”145 Secretary of State Acheson wrote that the only circumstances in which the US government would support the use of force would be to “evacuate British citizens whose lives were in danger. Open Soviet intervention in Iran or seizure of power in Tehran by Communist Govt [sic] would, of course, also create [a] situa- tion where use of force must be considered.”146 And a paper was presented to the British ambassador stating that “we would be opposed to the adop- tion of ‘strong meas ures’ by the British . . . such as the manipulation into of- fice of an Iran ian Premier of UK choosing or the introduction of force or the 59 chapter 2 threat of force.”147 Despite understanding that “ there is l ittle hope that an acceptable solution can be reached under pre sent circumstances,” the Amer- icans insisted that Britain forgo military options.148 The Americans were fully aware that the “UK decision whether or not to use force will be in [the] last analys is determined by [the] extent to which [the] US [is] prepared [to] support.”149 As they anticipated, despite British irritation at the United States’ reticence to assist them, the British w ere not prepared to act alone. Harold Macmillan’s view in an April cabinet meeting was that the UK could not go against the Americans: “I do not think at this stage we should, merely in deference to the Americans’ opinion, go further than that.”150 In July, he made the same argument, that despite “arguments in favour” of using force, “if we w ere to use force . . . it is most probable that we should . . . alienate American and world opinion.”151 The cabinet was per- suaded, concluding that “military action in Persia . . . s hould not be con- templated u nless there were some fundamental change in the situation.”152 In September, by which time Britain had well-d eveloped military options ready to be implemented, the same arguments prevailed again. Attlee ad- vocated against action because of US opposition: “In view of the attitude of the United States Government, [he did not] think it would be expedient to use force to maintain the British staff in Abadan.”153 Attlee’s argument car- ried the day, with cabinet minutes recording that “it was, however, the gen- eral view of the Cabinet, in the light of the United States attitude . . . force could not be used. . . . We could not afford to break with the United States on an issue of this kind.”154 In the absence of US support for military action, Britain was forced to pur- sue a purely economic approach to dealing with Iran. In part ic ul ar, Britain threatened to sue anyone who purchased Iran ian oil, claiming that they were buying stolen goods.155 Foreign Secretary Eden, who would l ater adopt a very diff ere nt approach in response to the Suez Crisis, was responsible for implementing this approach.156 The British did, however, continue to try to persuade Amer i ca to act, but were rebuffed.157 It was only with an increas- ingly favorable balance of power resulting from US rearmament, combined with Eisenhower’s accession to the White House, that US policy changed. In early 1953, the secretary of state and the director of the Central Intelli- gence Agency (CIA) informed their British counter parts that the United States was ready to take action against Mossadegh.158 Thus, although Brit- ain fi nally participated in covert action to remove Mossadegh, the episode demonstrated Britain’s reliance on the United States as it responded to chal- lenges to its position.159 Egypt, 1945–1954 E gypt lay at the center of British strategy in the M iddle East. In par tic ul ar, the network of British bases in the Suez Canal Zone con- stituted a huge military investment with the ability to serv ice and maintain an army of half a million men.160 Since 1869, the canal had played a critical 60 In de pend ence and status role in linking Britain to its empire in India and East Asia, facilitating Brit- ish trade with Africa, Asia, and the Middle East, and in permitting the de- fense of the empire.161 Britain had occupied the canal zone since 1860, and its military significance was demonstrated in World War II, when the Brit- ish defense at El Alamein ended the Axis threat to the canal and, thus, to the Middle Eastern and Persian oil fields.162 The increasing volumes of Persian Gulf oil and other goods flowing through the canal to Eu rope meant that the canal remained of high importance in the aftermath of World War II.163 In the words of a 1953 memo to the prime minister, a British departure from the Suez Canal would have “far- reaching repercussions. . . . An evacuation of the Suez Canal Zone would mean the end of the Commonwealth as an ind e pend ent force in the world.”164 However, increasing currents of Egyptian nationalism w ere challenging the British occupation of Suez. As soon as the war ended, Egypt requested negotiations to end Britain’s military presence in the country. For Egyptian nationalists, the Suez Canal was a symbol of imperialism, and a potential source of revenues currently being collected by the British and other Eu ro- pean shareholders in the Suez Canal Com pany.165 Britain was willing to withdraw forces from Suez, but only if British influence could be preserved and British access to the base during war could be guaranteed, something Nasser was unwilling to grant. Egyptian capabilities remained insufficient to compel British withdrawal, but Britain was increasingly forced to expend manpower and money defending the bases and protecting its soldiers and civilians stationed there.166 Despite Britain’s continued military strength in the Middle East and the centrality of Egypt within British strategic thinking, the British strategy was to rely on the United States for support. Foreign Minister Eden repeatedly sought American aid, while Churchill bombarded Eisenhower with letters and tele grams pleading for American aid despite his fears that “r unning to the Americans for help . . . w as undignified and did not increase their re- spect for us.”167 One letter stated that “it seems to me that you might by standing with us . . . bring about a peaceful solution in the truest harmony with the military and moral interests of the anti-C ommunist front. . . . I f an Anglo- American team, military and diplomatic, puts our agreed plan firmly to [Egyptian president Mohamed] Neguib all may come well without blood- shed, and other blessings would flow.”168 A memo from Eden to the British ambassador in Washington stated that it “ will be essential that the United States Government shall back us. . . . [ The US government] should be left in no doubt that any approach to the Egyptians is unlikely in our view to bear fruit [without their support].”169 But the British worried that the Americans would not fully support their position. As one cabinet meeting recorded, the prime minister “feared that the position of the British negotiators would be seriously weakened if the American attitude . . . r emained uncertain. If there were any risk that the Americans would not support us on some condition 61 chapter 2 regarding the maintenance of the [Suez] base which we thought essential for our security, it would be better that we should enter upon the negotiations alone.”170 And, indeed, the US position was moving further away from the British one. US officials increasingly viewed supporting the British as inimical to American goals in the region. Many in the Eisenhower administration (par- ticularly in the State Department) favored offering US support to the new Egyptian regime and had little inclination to help prop up Britain’s imperial possessions in the face of Egyptian popul ar opposition. Both sides became increasingly irritated by the other— for example, Dulles complaining that the British were seeking to “put him in a straight jacket [sic]” by forcing the Americans to take part in joint negotiations over Suez, while the British be- lieved the Americans w ere encouraging Egyptian opposition to joint nego- tiations.171 Ultimately, the Americans refused to participate in Anglo- Egyptian negotiations over the canal zone, thus allowing Egypt to conduct bilateral negotiations with the British without the Americans sitting on the other side of the negotiating table, allowing Egypt to play Britain and the United States off against each other.172 The British w ere fully aware that they would be pushed t oward accepting conditions for their withdrawal that they viewed as unacceptable.173 Similarly, they understood that Egyptian concessions were unlikely to be forthcoming without US support.174 Ac- cording to Churchill, without “whole- hearted support” from the United States, Britain would have to pick from “painful and difficult choices.”175 Such support was not forthcoming from the United States. Instead, in No- vember 1953, the Americans attempted to use the threat of providing aid to Egypt to coerce the British into making concessions, with Dulles threaten- ing to resume economic aid to the Egyptians and telling Eden that “time is fast r unning out.”176 Eden tried to convince Dulles that Britain might be pre- pared to “fight it out or take some other mea sure unilaterally” if no deal was reached, and Churchill threatened Eisenhower that it would be “diffi- cult for Anthony and me to help you in the Far East if we have to do it in the face . . . of [a] general feeling of indignation.”177 But ultimately, any threats to the Americans w ere a bluff and Britain could not afford to cross the United States. As Eden acknowledged to Churchill, “The real alternative to an agree- ment [with Egypt] is a fight which we can ill afford and from which [we] should emerge . . . without a friend left in the Middle East.”178 Through the spring of 1954, US pressure forced the British to make seri- ous concessions to Egypt on the duration of the agreement, the speed of troop withdrawals, the number of British technicians who might be permitted to stay, and the conditions u nder which Britain would be able to return to the base. The British were ultimately forced to adopt the humiliating position that the Suez Canal base was no longer even of g reat importance to them, with Churchill writing to Eisenhower that the canal zone no longer merited “the expense and diversion of our troops.”179 Similarly, Eden instructed the 62 In de pend ence and status British negotiating team that maintaining “a concentration of equipment, supplies and facilities in the Canal Zone” was no longer desirable and that Britain could therefore “approach the Egyptian government with, in effect, an entirely new set of proposals.”180 An agreement was swiftly struck: Brit- ain agreed to withdraw its troops without any guarantee that they could return in the event of war.181 Churchill noted sadly that “the sooner this melancholy business [withdrawal from Egypt] is over the better for all concerned.”182 British leaders blamed Egyptian intransigence on the lack of US support they w ere receiving and believed that they could secure a deal that better served their interests if the United States would only stand alongside Brit- ain. Ultimately, however, the British w ere unwilling to act ind ep end ently of the United States and were forced to acquiesce to American preferences.183 Buraimi, 1952–1954 T he Buraimi Oasis, located at the southeastern tip of the Arabian Peninsula, was strategically significant to the British b ecause of the possibility of new oil reserves in the area and its location as a strategi- cally valuable crossroads. As a memo by the foreign secretary to the British cabinet stated: “The retention of this Oasis is essential to our position in south- east Arabia. Whoever controls Buraimi can dominate the British- protected Trucial States and the Sultanate of Muscat Oman, where we be- lieve that big oil deposits lie within easy reach of the Indian Ocean.”184 The territory was disputed, with Saudi Arabia rejecting an agreement that had been negotiated by Britain on behalf of Oman and Abu Dhabi in 1935. Saudi leaders, including the king, Ibn Saud, w ere well aware of the benefits asso- ciated with controlling Buraimi and had asked US officials to assist them in forcing the British to the negotiating table.185 The United States was eager to avoid antagonizing either the British or the Saudis and viewed both parties’ intentions with suspicion: as the US ambassador to Saudi Arabia reported to the State Department, “I do not feel [the] motives of either Brit[s] or Sau- dis in these matters are beyond question.”186 US efforts to prevent a British- Saudi dispute from spiraling out of control were dealt a blow when in 1952 Saudi forces occupied the oasis with the sup- port of the Arabian American Oil Comp any (ARAMCO). British officials viewed this as a significant challenge to their position in the Persian Gulf. Particularly after the nationalization of AIOC and the British “scuttle from Abadan,” the Saudi occupation of Buraimi represented a further weaken- ing of Britain’s position in the M iddle East that would damage British pres- tige and access to sterling oil.187 Worse still, given the close ties between the United States and ARAMCO, the British viewed the Saudis as acting with the implicit approval of the United States.188 The British had the military capability to remove the Saudi forces and wor- ried that the Saudis w ere “banking on [the] belief that [the] U.K. w ill not use force,” which might be the “only effective way to counteract [Saudi actions] 63 chapter 2 and restore [the] Brit[ish] position.”189 Indeed, British military options w ere enhanced by the fact that the sultan of Muscat and Oman had raised a sub- stantial force with which to evict the Saudi forces.190 However, the Ameri- cans requested that the British avoid escalating the conflict and encouraged the British to seek arbitration with the Saudis.191 One of Churchill’s brief- ing papers emphasized the extent to which the British saw themselves as ineluctably tied to the Americans: “Each power [the United Kingdom and the United States] must support the other fully and be seen by all to do so. Lack of positive support and an affectation of impartiality by either power w ill be interpreted as disagreement with the other and exploited to the det- riment of both.”192 The British therefore acquiesced to American preferences and persuaded the sultan to pursue a diplomatic solution, agreeing to a temporary “Stand- still Agreement” that left the Saudis in control of Hamasa, the primary set- tlement in Buraimi.193 Both sides agreed to remain in their current positions and avoid taking actions that might threaten each other or prejudice a f uture settlement.194 The Standstill Agreement did not last long, however, with Brit- ain abrogating it in response to perceived Saudi violations. Encouraged by the United States, Britain and Saudi Arabia reopened negotiations on an ar- bitration agreement that yielded l ittle pro gress. When Eden took charge of the Foreign Office in 1953, he asked why Saudi forces had not yet been evicted from Buraimi and was told that the British had been reluctant to use force b ecause they required US support.195 The disagreement continued. Brit- ain insisted that British companies continue their operations in the disputed area, while Saudi Arabia (backed by ARAMCO and the United States) de- manded that Britain cease any actions until the case was settled.196 Again, however, Britain agreed to solve the dispute via arbitration under pressure from the United States, with Churchill making a personal commitment to Eisenhower to this effect. It is clear that Britain would have liked to pursue a more muscular ap- proach to the Buraimi dispute, but was unwilling to go against the United States. Britain’s approach to the Buraimi dispute was heavil y constrained by US opposition to a more forceful strategy. Buraimi, 1955 After obtaining a deliverable nuclear capability in 1955, Brit- ain began to respond more decisively and in dep end ently to challenges to its position. Eden bluntly stated the change in British strategy in a cabinet meeting in October 1955: “Our interests in the M iddle East were greater than t hose of the United States b ecause of our dependence on M iddle East oil, and our experience in the area was greater than theirs. We should not there- fore allow ourselves to be restricted overmuch by reluctance to act without full American concurrence and support. We should frame our own policy in the light of our interests in the area and get the Americans to support it to the extent we could induce them to do so.”197 Britain’s newfound ind ep en- 64 In de pend ence and status dence was demonstrated in responding to challenges in Buraimi, Suez, Jor- dan, and Oman. At the point at which Britain acquired deliverable nuclear weapons in 1955, it was in the midst of arbitration with Saudi Arabia over control of the Buraimi Oasis. In the eyes of the British, however, the Saudis were under- mining the agreed- upon arbitration pro cess, and several members of the commission resigned in response to Saudi efforts to instruct witnesses ap- pearing before the commission. Eden informed the House of Commons that the British had abandoned arbitration on October 26, 1955.198 With the arbitration commission disbanded, Britain shifted its approach. In contrast to the British strategy since 1952 of seeking US po litic al and diplo- matic assistance and pursuing a peaceful solution, Britain pursued a unilat- eral, military approach to change the facts on the ground. Foreign Secretary Macmillan argued that the United States had “a natu ral instinct to appease the Saudis on account of the American oil com pany, Aramco” and that Britain “cannot afford to hesitate” to seize back control of Buraimi.199 Despite the For- eign Office telling Eden two years earlier that Britain could not take military action in Buraimi b ecause of American opposition, Britain was now prepared to ignore the United States entirely. British forces evicted the Saudis from Buraimi and returned the bounda ries to the pre-1952 positions. More notable than the fact that British military action occurred was that Britain undertook it without either consulting or informing the Americans. Instead, a fter Eden had announced in Parliament that action was being taken, the British cabled Wash- ington to let them know that the United States had to accept “that for the United Kingdom the issues are vital. We cannot allow this primitive and ex- pansionist power to seize control of sources from which we draw an essential part of our fuel. Unlike the United States we have no indigenous reserves and in the last resort, we must act firmly to preserve our lifeline.”200 This “brazen piece of unilateralism” caused outrage in Washington, with u nder secretary of state Herbert Hoover Jr. rebuking the British ambassador for the absence of consultation.201 The director of the CIA, Allen Dulles, con- demned the “recent British forceable occupation” as “negat[ing] five years [of] U.S. Government effort to get Saudi Arabs and British to arbitrate their boundary controversies.”202 Secretary of State John Foster Dulles vocifer- ously protested the reoccupation of Buraimi to the British foreign office, tell- ing the British that the United States would “state it had no advance knowl- edge whatsoever of [British] action and if it had would have urged that it not be taken.”203 The British were told that the United States would not support them if Saudi Arabia took the m atter to the United Nations (UN) Security Council, and the British officer in charge of the Middle East section of the Foreign Office wrote in his diary: “T oday we w ere thrown into a rage with the Americans upon receiving two notes or messages [from the Americans]— one telling us that we better go back to arbitration on Buraimi . . . and the other practically ordering us to call off the Sultan of Muscat’s impending 65 chapter 2 clear-up of the rebellious Imam of Oman.”204 Indeed, US disp leas ure was sufficient that Eisenhower raised the issue personally with Eden during a state visit to Washington in early 1956, acknowledging Britain’s l egal claims to Buraimi but arguing that world public opinion thought “that the w hole Arab peninsula belonged, or o ught to belong, to King Saud.”205 Despite this pressure, the British resisted, declaring Dulles’s position on Buraimi to be “thoroughly unsatisfactory” and resisting pressure to return to arbitra- tion.206 Likewise, Eden refused to give ground in his meeting with Eisen- hower.207 Britain and the United States, in the words of u nder secretary of state Hoover, “agreed to disagree.”208 The reoccupation of Buraimi indicated an increase both in British ind e- pen dence from the United States and in British steadfastness in responding to challenges, and set a prec ed ent for how Britain would act in response to challenges to its position in the Middle East. Suez, 1956 It was during the Suez Crisis of 1956 that Britain’s newfound ind e pend ence was most dramatically demonstrated. As with the national- ization of the AIOC, the Suez Crisis involved the nationalization of an asset viewed as critical to Britain’s economic and po litic al status. Unlike in the case of the AIOC, however, Britain was prepared to act militarily without the sup- port of (and, indeed, despite the opposition of) the United States. As discussed above, the Suez Canal had long been viewed as critical to British security. Negotiations over the status of the canal had been a major prob lem for postwar British foreign policy, and a settlement had been nego- tiated with Nasser in 1954.209 This settlement did not last long, however, with Nasser nationalizing the canal in July 1956 in order to raise funds for the As- wan High Dam. As with the case of Anglo- Iranian oil, the nationalization of the Suez Canal was viewed as a crucial challenge to British interests. Con- cerns about Britain’s future ability to trade through the canal further eroded confidence in the pound and made a second devaluation of the currency in less than a de cade a frightening possibility. Policymakers also feared that Nasser’s rising power and anti- British nationalism would lead him to turn other oil- producing states against Britain and use the Suez Canal as a spigot with which to turn on and off the supply of oil to Western Eur ope.210 Indeed, the British interests at stake over the Suez Canal were similar to those at stake over Anglo-I ranian oil. Both w ere challenges to the British position that would undermine British standing and prestige, both threatened access to British oil holdings, both threatened the British balance of payments and the status of sterling, and both threatened to set a prec ed ent for how Britain would respond to future nationalist challenges.211 As in the case of Anglo-I ranian oil, the United States was opposed to mil- itary action by Britain to force Nasser to give up the canal.212 Indeed, US opposition to military action was communicated directly and explici tly to the British. On July 30, Dulles told the British that “Nasser should not now 66 In de pend ence and status be presented with, in effect, an ultimatum requiring him to reverse his na- tionalization action u nder threat of force.”213 Similarly, Eisenhower had com- municated to Eden as early as July 31 the “unwisdom even of contemplat- ing the use of military force,” and warned that “the American reaction would be severe” if the British took military action without first exhausting peace- ful approaches to solving the prob lem.214 Britain was under no illusions about US opposition: as a memorandum to Foreign Secretary Selwyn Lloyd made clear, “Britain would have l ittle or no international support . . . [and using] military force would cause a tremendous strain on the British econ- omy.” Chancellor of the Exchequer Macmillan also warned of the danger of taking military action and argued that in an extended crisis the pound would come u nder significant strain due to limited British reserves.215 The United States was certainly not happy that Nasser had seized the Suez Canal, and Dulles told the British that he believed “a way must be found to make Nasser disgorge.”216 Nonetheless, the Americans believed that military action would play into the hands of both the Soviet Union and Nasser: turning Nasser into an anti-i mperialist hero throughout the Arab world and pushing him fur- ther into the Soviet sphere of influence. Despite awareness of t hese challenges, and in contrast to British beh avi or in the case of Anglo- Iranian oil, Britain quickly committed to military action in response to the nationalization of the canal. At a meeting at 10 Downing Street shortly after Nasser’s announcement of nationalization, Eden made it “clear that military action would have to be taken and that Nasser would have to go. Nasser could not be allowed ‘to have his hand on our windpipe,’ ” and told US under secretary of state Robert Murphy that Suez was a test that “could be met only by the use of force.”217 Similarly, he informed Dulles that “prompt forcible action was necessary” and requested US “moral and eco- nomic support,” which Dulles refused to offer.218 Other British officials made similar statements: Chancellor of the Exchequer Macmillan told Dulles that “utmost firmness” was required, and Dulles came away convinced that “the pre sent determination of both the British and French is to move into the Canal area with force.”219 On October 24, 1956, sen ior British, French, and Israeli officials (includ- ing the British and French foreign ministers and the Israeli prime minister) met secretly outside Paris. Agreement was reached for Israel to launch an attack across the Sinai Peninsula toward the Suez Canal. Britain and France would then make an ultimatum stating that they would protect the canal if fighting continued, and then invade when the fighting failed to stop. The goal was to seize the canal and hopefully supplant Nasser as a side effect.220 On October 29, the Israelis launched their invasion, with Dulles telling the president that “British and French intervention must be foreseen” and that “they may in fact have concerted their action with the Israelis.”221 Eisen- hower, enraged by Israeli actions and potential collusion among the Israe- lis, French, and British, wrote to Eden asking for urgent clarification “as to 67 chapter 2 exactly what is happening between us and our Eur o pean allies” and warn- ing that “we may shortly find ourselves not only at odds concerning what we should do, but confronted with a de facto situation that would make all our pres ent troub les look puny indeed.”222 Dulles and Eisenhower’s instincts w ere correct. Britain and France issued their ultimatum the following day, which Dulles characterized to Eisenhower “as crude and brutal as anything he has ever seen.”223 On October 31, Britain began bombing Egyptian air- fields, and on November 5 British and French forces began their assault on the canal zone. The Americans w ere enraged, with Eisenhower berating one of Eden’s aides on the phone thinking it was the prime minister and then hanging up before the mistake could be corrected.224 By November 6, however, the British objectives had already been lost: Nasser had obstructed the canal by sinking ships filled with rocks and ce- ment, and the British goal of unrestricted use of the canal was thus gone. The Americans feared the risk of Soviet intervention.225 Britain and France agreed to a cease- fire, but the United States now demanded a complete with- drawal of their forces. Eisenhower refused to meet with Eden and the French prime minister Guy Mollet in Washington, and stated that he would grant such a meeting only once Anglo- French forces were withdrawn.226 In addition to diplomatic pressure, the Americans began to turn the economic screws on the British, whose fragile economy was deeply vulnerable to the disruption of oil supplies, the selling of sterling by the Federal Reserve, and restriction of financial support from the International Monetary Fund. Chan- cellor Harold Macmillan met with the US ambassador on November 18 to tell him that the “British Cabinet is beginning to realize what a terrible mistake has been made” and to plead for US assistance.227 One day l ater, Macmillan returned to the US ambassador to report that Eden had had a “physical breakdown and w ill have to go on vacation immediately” and that the “first action a fter Eden’s departure . . . w ill be on withdrawal of British troops.” He pleaded for an economic “fig leaf to cover our nakedness.”228 Eisenhower refused to do so u ntil the British withdrew.229 The British, fac- ing no alternatives, buckled under American pressure and on December 2, Foreign Secretary Selwyn Lloyd announced that British forces would be withdrawn from Suez.230 Eden returned from his vacation and was swiftly forced out as prime minister, informing the cabinet two days before his res- ignation that “we and the French have been compelled, by a combination of the United States and the Soviet Union . . . t o withdraw. . . . This has certainly done us great damage.” In the same note he implicitly acknowledged that Britain’s greater ind e pen dence since 1955 had caused a fundamental shift in Britain’s relationship with the United States: “The United States attitude to us in the Middle East dates from our refusal to give up Buraimi.”231 While a detailed examination of the outcome of the Suez Crisis is not neces- sary here (what is impor tant for testing the theory of nuclear opportunism is how the British responded to the challenge of nationalization, not the overall 68 In de pend ence and status outcome of the crisis), it is worth noting that the fact that Britain was ulti- mately humiliated by the United States does not undermine the claim that Britain exhibited greater in de pen dence than it did before acquiring deliver- able nuclear weapons. In comparison with crises in the pre-n uclear era, such as the nationalization of the AIOC, the British response in Suez exhibited far less concern regarding US policy preferences and a greater willingness to stand firmly in defending challenges to the status quo. The British response is thus indicative of greater in de pen dence from the United States, regardless of the fact that the United States was ultimately able to coerce British withdrawal. Post- Suez: Oman and Jordan I n the aftermath of the Suez Crisis, the con- ventional wisdom is that Britain shrunk, humiliated, away from the world stage and what remained of its empire. The Times’s obituary of Eden in 1977 described him as “the last Prime Minister to believe that Britain was a great power and the first to confront a crisis which proved she was not.”232 This position has been echoed in a large body of historical scholarship depicting the Suez Crisis as a decisive turning point in British history.233 Other historical scholarship, however, argues that the Suez Crisis was not the turning point in British strategy that it is often portrayed as.234 Indeed, British in dep en dence persisted even in the aftermath of Suez. Britain con- tinued to respond to challenges to its position and was “prepared neither to relinquish its residual interests in the region, nor become subservient to the United States.”235 As Ashton argues, “The British w ere resolved to pursue the promotion of their interests through the Baghdad Pact with even greater vigour a fter the Suez debacle, and w ere certainly not ready to cast off any mantle.”236 And, indeed, Britain continued to act unilaterally in the region when it felt its interests were challenged, often “with little regard for Amer- ican policy.”237 First, Britain intervened unilaterally in Oman in 1957 in response to a re- quest from Sultan Said, who was battling the Saudi-b acked Ghalib bin Ali. Macmillan wrote to Eisenhower, telling him that “the obligations of friend- ship seem to us to demand that we should not desert him in times of trou- ble.”238 The British sought to downplay their intervention, asking the US sec- retary of state to “take [the] line that Oman affair is ‘small stuff’ and not considered impor tant by [the] U.S.”239 Nonetheless, the United States had significant concerns about the British intervention, with Dulles informing the president of his “concern that it [British intervention] could not be quickly wound up as a minor incident but that the Arab world would be drawn in in opposition to the UK, Nasser would have a new chance to assert Arab leadership, and we would be caught between our desire to maintain an in- fluence in some of the Arab countries . . . and our desire to maintain good ties with the UK.”240 Ultimately, the United States did not actively oppose the British intervention but was unenthusiastic about the operation, with Dulles irritated by the lack of consultation with the United States given that 69 chapter 2 the deployment of British forces came just days after he received assurances from the British that there “was no question of using British forces there.”241 Despite the humiliation Britain had suffered over Suez a year e arlier, Britain nonetheless remained willing to act without US backing. Second, Britain intervened in Jordan in the aftermath of the July 1958 coup in Iraq by pro-N asser elem ents of the Iraqi army that brought down the Hashemite royal f amily. The coup was viewed as a significant blow to the British position in the Middle East for a number of reasons: because Iraq stood at the heart of the Baghdad Pact; because the revolution appeared to threaten oil interests in Iraq, Kuwait, and the Persian Gulf more broadly; and b ecause of the possibility that the revolution might presage region- wide in- stability instigated by Nasser.242 The British sought to encourage US inter- vention in Lebanon to prop up the faltering president Camille Chamoun, but the Americans worried that popul ar re sis tance to any intervention would be exacerbated by British involvement in the aftermath of the Suez Crisis.243 As a result, the British were excluded from the planning for the operation by Eisenhower, who refused to make the operation a joint Anglo- American one: when Macmillan asked Eisenhower in a telephone conversation if he “wanted us to come with you or do you want to do it alone?” Eisenhower declined his offer.244 Following the phone conversation with a written mes- sage, Macmillan accepted Eisenhower’s decision: “I think you are right . . . that our 3,700 men should be held in reserve.”245 Instead, Britain sent its forces unilaterally into Jordan in response to a request from Jordanian King Hussein for assistance.246 King Hussein had requested that both Britain and the United States assure him that they would come to his aid if he requested: while the British w ere enthusiastic, the Americans were not, with Dulles tell- ing the British deputy ambassador that “Hussein has a better chance of pulling through without western military assistance than with it” and that the United States had “no clear idea as yet on the desirability of putting troops into Jordan.”247 Dulles expressed more direct opposition to Eisen- hower, stating that he had “no enthusiasm for British forces g oing in,” that “pan-A rabism could sweep the country very quickly” in the event of Brit- ish intervention, and, four days l ater, that the British w ere “getting into a dangerous situation in Jordan.”248 Eisenhower agreed that the United States should not “get into the position of supporting Kings against their people.”249 Despite multiple direct requests from the British, the Americans refused to provide forces, though they did provide some logistical support.250 For the British, however, US military support was not a decisive f actor: Britain in- tervened anyway. British intervention in Jordan thus further demonstrates Britain’s continued willingness to intervene militarily in countries without American assistance even in the aftermath of Suez. What Role Did Nuclear Weapons Play in the Crises? B ritish responses to chal- lenges to its position in the Middle East are thus consistent with the predic- 70 In de pend ence and status tions made above. After acquiring a deliverable nuclear capability in 1955, Britain was more willing to respond to challenges to its position more stead- fastly, with greater in de pend ence from the United States, and showed less inclination to compromise. This evidence is correlational: it shows that Brit- ish beh av ior changed in the way the theory anticipates, but does not itself show that nuclear weapons caused the changes we observe. In the discus- sion of bolstering above, it is clear that British nuclear weapons w ere caus- ing the changes in beh avi or: British officials w ere explicit both in private and in public that nuclear weapons allowed Britain to reduce its conventional military commitments to its alliances and rely to a greater degree on nuclear commitments to strengthen and maintain its alliances. In the crises, however, finding smoking-g un evidence that nuclear weapons caused the change in be havi or is harder. Nonetheless, there are reasons to believe that British nu- clear weapons caused the change. First, the change in be hav ior is consistent with British elite thinking about nuclear weapons discussed above. British elites wanted nuclear weapons in large part because it would reduce their dependence on the United States and help Britain maintain its position in international politics. After acquir- ing deliverable nuclear weapons Britain behaved in much the way that Brit- ish elites had anticipated nuclear weapons would allow Britain to behave: with less regard for US preferences and with greater inclination to act mili- tarily to preserve the status quo in the face of challenges. This consistency between British elite thinking and British beh av ior across a series of crises is suggestive of a causal role being played by nuclear weapons. Second, we can trace the mechanisms identified in chapter 1 to see the ways in which British calculations may have been changed by nuclear weap- ons. In this case, it is highly plausible that at least two of the mechanisms identified— the pol iti cal mechanism and the psychological mechanism— would have been operative in leading British officials to behave differently in the crises after Britain acquired deliverable nuclear weapons. British nuclear weapons should have meant British officials felt more com- fortable taking actions that may have led to escalation b ecause of the effects British nuclear weapons would have on adversaries’ calculations. We see ex- amples of this in the crises a fter Britain acquired deliverable nuclear weap- ons in 1955: Britain was prepared to take actions a fter 1955 that it had been careful to avoid before 1955. Indeed, British officials explic itly made refer- ence to a willingness to run the risk of nuclear escalation to pursue the coun- try’s po liti cal aims. In the leadup to the Suez Crisis, the British foreign sec- retary Selwyn Lloyd informed US Secretary of State Dulles that the British were fully aware that “they were starting something that might lead to an atomic war” but that they were prepared to take action anyway.251 Similarly, Chancellor of the Exchequer Macmillan told Dulles that “if we should be destroyed by Rus sian bombs now that would be better than to be reduced to impotence by the disintegration of [Britain’s] entire position abroad.”252 71 chapter 2 It is hard to imagine British leaders making such statement in the period be- fore 1955, in which Britain deferred to US preferences in each case. Similarly, we might expect that British policymakers would have viewed the threat of third- party intervention as less credible given British nuclear weapons. The only crisis in which Britain received such threats was the 1956 Suez Crisis. Soviet Premier Nikolai Bulganin communicated to Eden the “very grave consequence[s]” that would result from Britain’s “aggressive war against Egypt” and the Soviet “determination to crush the aggressor,” and asked provocatively, “In what position would Britain have found herself had she been attacked by more powerf ul states possessing all types of modern weapons of destruction?”253 The French— who lacked nuclear weapons— were “greatly concerned by the threat,” communicating to the United States that they “cannot exclude the possibility of an attack by the Soviet Union.”254 By contrast, the nuclear- armed British did not view Soviet nuclear threats as credible. Eden later commented that “we considered that the threats in Mar- shall Bulganin’s note need not be taken literally,” and his public relations ad- viser derided the threat as “twaddle”; the Joint Intelligence Committee con- cluded that the Russ ian threat was a bluff; and the immediate effect of the threat was to harden rather than weaken British resolve.255 The fact that the non- nuclear- armed French took the Soviet nuclear threat more seriously than the British is entirely consistent with the po litic al mechanisms discussed in chapter 1: Britain’s nuclear weapons meant that Soviet threats w ere less cred- ible to the British than they were to the French. As Groom argues, Britain’s “store of atomic weapons and a credible delivery system . . . w as not some- thing that the Soviet leaders could afford to take lightly.”256 British leaders during the period in which Britain acquired nuclear weap- ons also offer highly plausible candidates for the psychological and identity- based mechanisms linking nuclear weapons to changes in foreign policy. Anthony Eden, much like his pre dec ess or Winston Churchill, epitomizes the “oppositional-n ationalist” view of Britain that Jacques Hymans identifies as being most likely to view nuclear weapons as a solution to a state’s security probl ems.257 Eden believed Britain to be an inherently great power with the right to play a pivotal role in global affairs but whose rightful position on the world stage was constantly being challenged and undermined by both allies and adversaries in a dangerous world. Eden’s aristocratic f amily back- ground, the deaths of his elder brother and uncle in World War I, and his vindication a fter resigning as foreign secretary in opposition to the appease- ment of Hitler in the 1930s all contributed to his view of Britain as an impor- tant and virtuous state in a dangerous international environment.258 Such leaders are likely to be particularly inclined to view nuclear weapons as impor tant tools of statecraft, and thus most likely to have their foreign pol- icy calculations influenced by nuclear acquisition. Overall, therefore, several plausible mechanisms link British nuclear weap- ons to the observed change in British crisis beh av ior. 72 In de pen dence and status Third, if British nuclear weapons did not cause the change, what did? Brit- ain’s responses to challenges in the Middle East seem to have changed dra- matically in 1955, but to conclude that nuclear weapons had no effect we need a plausible alternative explanation: an additional factor that also changed in 1955. The most obvious candidate is that Churchill was replaced by Eden as prime minister in 1955: could it be that the changes in be hav ior we observe are due to the change in leader rather than the acquisition of a deliverable nuclear capability? While it is not poss ib le to rule out this alter- native explanation completely, t here are reasons to doubt its ability to ex- plain the changes in British beh avi or. First, Eden was intimately involved in foreign policy making as foreign secretary and deputy prime minister be- fore becoming prime minister, including being the “primary architect” of several of the pre-1955 policies, including the pursuit of US assistance in re- sponding to the 1951 nationalization of Anglo- Iranian oil and the 1954 Anglo- Egyptian Treaty.259 Second, Eden and Churchill came from the same pol iti cal party and shared a similar outlook on foreign policy, with Eden re- calling Churchill commenting that “you could put each of us in a separate room, put any questions of foreign policy to us, and nine times out of ten we would give the same answer.”260 Both leaders shared the oppositional- nationalist view of Britain’s role in the world that Hymans identifies as shap- ing leaders’ views of nuclear weapons.261 While the relationship between Churchill and Eden was often difficult and fractious, this did not stem from substantive po liti cal differences on matters of foreign policy, but rather because Eden was an impatient “heir apparent” as Churchill gradually lost his grip on power.262 It therefore seems unlikely that Eden and Churchill dif- fered sufficiently on matters of foreign policy to explain the changes in Brit- ish foreign policy after 1955. Indeed, if anything, Eden was less inclined than Churchill to respond to challenges steadfastly. For example, Eden had argued— against Churchill— that maintaining large numbers of forces in the M iddle East and in the Suez base was unnecessary, while Churchill was more inclined to place a high priority on maintaining the British position in Suez.263 Overall, there is good reason to think that British nuclear weapons caused the change in foreign policy we see in the crises: a greater degree of ind e- pend ence from the United States, a reduced inclination to compromise, and a greater degree of steadfastness when challenged. These changes are con- sistent with the predictions of the theory of nuclear opportunism. Other Explanations Do other theories explain the British case better than the theory of nuclear opportunism? The theory of the nuclear revolution predicts that nuclear weapons would make Britain more secure, and thus that Britain would not use nuclear 73 chapter 2 weapons to facilitate aggression, expansion, or bolstering. However, the the- ory predicts that states may use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness, in dep en dence, and compromise. It thus makes several correct predictions in the British case: Britain did indeed use nuclear weapons to facilitate stead- fastness and in dep end ence, and did not use nuclear weapons to facilitate ag- gression or expansion. However, in contrast to the predictions of the theory of the nuclear revolution, Britain showed no greater inclination to compro- mise after acquiring deliverable nuclear weapons, and did use nuclear weap- ons to facilitate the bolstering of ju nior allies. Thus, while the theory of the nuclear revolution makes a number of correct predictions, it does not per- form as well as the theory of nuclear opportunism. S. Paul Kapur’s theory of emboldenment predicts that weak, revisionist states use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. Neither of t hese condi- tions is met in the British case. As discussed above, although Britain had suf- fered substantially in World War II, it had not had its territory occupied and retained a power ful conventional military. Britain had the third largest mil- itary in the world and the second largest navy, and it retained a large em- pire that had contributed considerable military capability to the allied war effort. Britain was not, therefore, a conventionally weak state at the point of nuclear acquisition. Similarly, Britain had firmly status quo preferences: as described above, Britain’s po litic al priority was to maintain the British posi- tion in international politics. Thus, Kapur’s theory correctly predicts that Britain would not use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. However, Ka- pur’s theory does not offer an explanation for how British foreign policy should have changed: Kapur’s theory therefore misses the impor tant ways in which British foreign policy did change after nuclear acquisition. Fin ally, the most plausible case- specific alternative explanation would be that the change in be hav ior observed reflected the change in leadership that Britain experienced in 1955. However, as discussed above, this is not persua- sive as an account of the change in be hav ior we observe: Eden and Churchill came from the same po litic al party, they agreed on most matters of foreign policy, and Eden had been intimately involved in British foreign policy well before he became prime minister. Nuclear Weapons and Continued British Decline Nuclear weapons w ere therefore useful to Britain as it sought to preserve its position in the world and avoid dependence on the United States. But w ere these merely transitory effects that dissipated over time? Or have these ideas about the utility of nuclear weapons for British foreign policy endured? It might initially seem that nuclear weapons failed to help Britain main- tain its position in the world. It is certainly true that nuclear weapons did not allow Britain to permanently defy geopo liti cal gravity. In time, Britain 74 In de pen dence and status was forced to accept a position in the world in line with its capabilities: as a nuclear- armed and active regional power rather than the imperial great power it had once been. Similarly, it is often argued that Britain subjugated its nuclear weapons to the United States, and that a fter 1958 Britain no lon- ger possessed a fully ind ep en dent nuclear deterrent.264 However, the fact that Britain could not ultimately maintain its status as a global power despite ac- quiring nuclear weapons does not undermine the theory of nuclear oppor- tunism. After all, the claim of the theory of nuclear opportunism is that nu- clear weapons are useful and help states pursue goals that they care about, not that they are all- powerful tools of po litic al influence or silver bullets that grant states free rein in international politics. In fact, the effects that the theory of nuclear opportunism identifies, and the ideas about the utility of nuclear weapons that underpin t hose effects in the British case, have demonstrated remarkable staying power. Through- out the Cold War and since, British elites have continued to view nuclear weapons as an import ant component of British power and influence in the world and have sought to avoid dependence on the United States by retain- ing an in dep end ent nuclear capability despite the costs associated with d oing so. Despite American efforts to reduce the in de pend ence of Britain’s nuclear program, Britain has always viewed the right to use nuclear weap- ons in de pend ently as a crucial capability underpinning its position in the world and its in de pen dence from the United States, and as a power ful source of influence over the United States and American nuclear choices. While conceptions of “nuclear in dep end ence” have changed somewhat over time, Britain has retained an “abiding adherence to national control and operation.”265 Britain has always retained ultimate control over its nuclear weapons even as it became more dependent on the United States for missile technologies and British strategic targeting became increasingly coordinated with NATO. The United States has certainly sought to reduce the ind e pen- dence of Britain’s nuclear arsenal and take advantage of Britain’s strugg le to afford a fully ind e pend ent nuclear deterrent: as S. J. Ball argues, US offi- cials “moved to bring planning for [British nuclear] use u nder an American umbrella and to make the British nuclear force dependent on American nu- clear weapons.”266 As McGeorge Bundy told President John F. Kennedy in April 1962, “We would much rather have . . . the British join with the rest of NATO in accepting a single U.S. dominated nuclear force.”267 Nonetheless, the British have always been insistent that they retain the ability to use nu- clear weapons ind e pen dently: as Prime Minister Macmillan told his cabinet, Britain needed to “have within our control sufficient weapons to provide a deterrent influence in de pen dent of the United States.”268 And as he argued to Kennedy in negotiating the conditions under which Britain would receive American Polaris submarine-l aunched ballistic missiles, “The U.K. does not want to be just a clown, or a satellite. The U.K. wants a nuclear force not only for defense, but in the event of menace to its existence, which the U.K. might 75 chapter 2 have to meet; for example: when Khrushchev waved his rockets about the time of Suez” (indeed, Macmillan’s invocation of the Suez Crisis as an ex- ample of the ways British nuclear weapons can support an ind e pen dent for- eign policy offers further support for the argument made above that nuclear weapons contributed to British in de pen dence in the crisis).269 In the Nassau Agreement and Polaris Sales Agreement that formalized the conditions at- tached to Britain receiving submarine-l aunched missiles, Britain secured the right to use nuclear weapons ind e pen dently if it determined that “supreme national interests are at stake.”270 And, indeed, the Polaris agreement formed the basis of the 1982 deal to provide Britain with the Trident missiles that Britain continues to use, preserving Britain’s ability to use nuclear weapons ind e pen dently of the United States should the British government deem it necessary.271 Britain’s commitment to nuclear weapons and the ability to use them in- dep end ently of the United States has therefore continued throughout the Cold War and well into the twenty- first century. Despite British denials, it is now known that British warships carried nuclear weapons during the 1982 war to restore British control over the Falkland Islands.272 And there was little doubt in the 2000s that the British government would commit to renewing the British deterrent, investing in a new generation of nuclear-a rmed sub- marines and extending the life of the Trident missile. The 2006 government white paper announcing its support for such investments declared that “an in de pen dent British nuclear deterrent is an essential part of our insurance against the uncertainties and risks of the f uture,”273 and large majorities in parliament voted to support the pro cess of renewing the British deterrent in both 2007 and 2016.274 As Nick Ritchie has argued, a power ful cross- party coa li tion of British politicians and the permanent civil serv ice continue to view Britain’s nuclear weapons as “an essential capability” underpinning Britain’s position and status as a “responsible, interventionist, ‘pivotal’ ma- jor power” critical to the “pol itic al and military credibility” that Britain has in Washington: precisely the ideas and effects of nuclear weapons that the theory of nuclear opportunism predicts in the British case.275 The ideas and narratives that motivated British nuclear acquisition and the effects they have on British foreign policy have been “reproduced” by British elites with only minor adjustments in the post– Cold War era.276 This level of consensus is particularly notable given that many of the se- curity threats that Britain faces in the post– Cold War era are less obviously amenable to nuclear deterrence than they w ere in the Cold War era. If any- thing, it is surprising how l ittle a vigorous debate about the utility of British nuclear weapons among scholars and analysts has permeated the discourse of British policymakers.277 The theory of nuclear opportunism, by showing how British nuclear weapons are useful even to a relatively secure, declin- ing power, offers an explanation for the cross- party consensus regarding the utility of British nuclear that persists even t oday. 76 In de pen dence and status In short, the basic ideas that underpin the British nuclear deterrent—of both maintaining Britain’s position in the world and avoiding dependence on, and gaining influence with, the United States—h ave persisted over time. They motivated Britain’s pursuit and acquisition of nuclear weapons in the 1940s and 1950s, they motivated the changes in Britain’s foreign policy after nuclear acquisition, and they continue to shape elite discourse about the util- ity of Britain’s nuclear weapons even in the post–C old War era. The theory of nuclear opportunism offers a powerf ul explanation for the pers ist ence of these ideas and for Britain’s continued possession of nuclear weapons even as the threats that Britain has faced have changed dramatically over the de- cades since British leaders first acquired them. The evidence suggests that nuclear weapons affected British foreign policy in ways that are consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism. As a rea- sonably secure state protected by a se nior ally and declining in power, Brit- ain saw nuclear weapons as a solution to two fundamental po liti cal prob- lems it faced: dependence on the United States and maintaining its position in the world despite its long- run decline. Britain therefore found pursuing ind e pen dence from the United States, the bolstering of its ju nior allies, and steadfastness in the face of challenges to be attractive. After acquiring a de- liverable nuclear capability in 1955, Britain used nuclear weapons to facili- tate these be hav iors: bolstering its allies in Asia, the Middle East, and Eu- rope, and responding to challenges to its position more steadfastly and ind e pend ently of the preferences of the United States, despite sim ult an eously cutting back on its conventional forces over the same period. T hese outcomes are consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism and inconsistent with the theory of the nuclear revolution. 77 chapter 3 Apartheid and Aggression South Africa, Angola, and the Bomb In late 1979, the apartheid South African regime secretly acquired nuclear weapons. A pariah state that excluded the majority of its population from po litic al power, the South African regime faced internal unrest and an in- creasingly dangerous regional environment. South Africa was surrounded by states e ager to see the downfall of the apartheid regime and was fighting an increasingly bloody war in Angola against a potent combination of An- golan and Cuban forces backed by Soviet arms and materiel. Despite t hese threats, South Africa never publicly tested its nuclear weapons or announced its nuclear capabilities to the world. Some twenty years later, South Africa dismantled its nuclear arsenal— again, in complete secrecy—as a prelude to domestic po liti cal reforms and rejoining the international community as a “rainbow nation.” It remains the only state to have built nuclear weapons and voluntarily given them up. Based on interviews with members of the po litic al and military elites of the apartheid regime, as well as declassified documents from South African government archives, this chapter examines South Africa’s unique nuclear history and the ways in which nuclear weap- ons affected South African foreign policy. South African elites from the apartheid regime are often eager to deny that any strategic rationale existed for their nuclear weapons program. Ac- cording to this narrative, nuclear weapons w ere of no use to South Africa and had no effect on its foreign policy. For example, David Steward, a for- mer ambassador to the United Nations, head of the Bureau for Information, and chief of staff to President F. W. de Klerk, argues that “the w hole idea” that South Africa could have achieved po liti cal leverage using its nuclear weapons was “completely cock- eyed” and “the acquisition of nuclear weap- ons made very little sense at all.”1 Deon Fourie, a con sul tant to the South African Defence Force (SADF) in the apartheid era and a staff member at the South African Defence College who taught nuclear strategy in the 1970s and 1980s, claims that the entire nuclear program was based on “haywire think- 78 apartheId and aggressIon ing” by “politicians and soldiers at the top [who] w ere so unsophisticated pol itic ally.”2 This narrative appears plausible. A fter all, what use would a country fighting guerrillas in a bush war and that had conventional military superiority over all its neighbors have for nuclear weapons? This narrative, however, is wrong. In fact, for all the paranoia, racism, and nationalism that motivated the apartheid regime, the South African nuclear program was underpinned by a steely strategic logic that South African elites were fully aware of and that affected South Africa’s foreign policy in impor- tant ways. Perceiving existential threats from both inside and outside South Africa’s borders, and fighting a war in Angola with the potential to trigger greater Soviet intervention that could overturn South Africa’s military dom- inance, South African elites viewed nuclear weapons as the ultimate tool for deterring and controlling escalation. If South Africa’s security situation w ere to worsen sufficiently, nuclear weapons provided South Africa with ad- ditional leverage to compel assistance from the United States and deter greater Soviet intervention in the region. This, in turn, reduced the risk of acting more aggressively in Angola, something the apartheid regime had long desired. As a result, and much as the theory of nuclear opportunism expects, South Africa became more aggressive in the aftermath of acquiring nuclear weapons. The South African case provides significant leverage in testing the theory of nuclear opportunism. As with the British case, the South African case is a hard one for the theory because it contains strong “countervailing condi- tions”: factors that would lead us to expect that nuclear acquisition would have a relatively limited effect on foreign policy. South Africa had conven- tional military superiority over its neighbors, never announced its nuclear capabilities or built a large nuclear arsenal, and had status quo preferences: seeking to hold on to its position in southern Africa and maintain the insti- tutions of apartheid in the face of international and domestic pressure. South Africa also developed nuclear weapons well a fter the emergence of the norm of nuclear nonuse, which should have made South African nuclear weapons even less relevant to its foreign policy. All of these f actors would suggest that nuclear weapons would be relatively unlikely to affect South African foreign policy. The case of South Africa thus represents a hard case for the theory of nuclear opportunism, which predicts that nuclear weap- ons would have a significant effect on South Africa’s foreign policy. When Did South Africa Acquire Nuclear Weapons? To look for changes in South African foreign policy caused by nuclear weap- ons, we first need to know when to look. When did South Africa acquire the relevant capabilities, and when should we expect to see changes occur in South African foreign policy? As discussed in chapter 1, this requires that 79 chapter 3 we pay attention to South Africa’s nuclear posture, the ways in which South Africa intended to use nuclear weapons, and the part icu l ar technological and military capabilities that such uses require. This enables us to accurately identify the appropriate point in time at which to look for changes in for- eign policy. South Africa adopted a nuclear posture that aimed to threaten a nuclear test as a way to “draw in Western—p articularly American—a ssistance,” what Vipin Narang refers to as a “catalytic posture.”3 Most scholars of South Africa’s nuclear program agree that this was the way South Africa intended to use its nuclear weapons.4 This is confirmed by interviews with officials involved in the nuclear program and South African military and pol itic al de- cision making at the time.5 As former South African ambassador to the UN Jeremy Shearar describes the logic of the strategy, “The thinking was that if the West knew we w ere going to test, they would want to stop us and they would then pledge support to South Africa.”6 Exactly what conflict thresh- old would have triggered South Africa to begin implementing the strategy remains unclear, although several members of the South African pol itic al and military elite suggested that Cuban or Angolan forces crossing into Namibia (then known as South West Africa, which South Africa controlled and ran as its own territory) would have been sufficient.7 The technological capabilities needed to use nuclear weapons in this way are modest. A state does not require the ability to deliver nuclear weapons with reliability, nor does it require a large or sophisticated arsenal.8 All that is needed for nuclear weapons to affect the policy calculations of a state em- ploying this posture is the ability to conduct a nuclear test: requiring only a crude explosive device and sufficient fissile material to sustain a chain reaction. South Africa attained this capability in late 1979. André Buys, the future chair of the working group on nuclear strategy within Armscor (the state’s arms production agency), recalls that the South Africans had initially thought they would have sufficient highly enriched uranium (HEU) to conduct a nu- clear test in 1977. However, pro gress in producing HEU was slower than expected, and South Africa “only had sufficient material for the first explo- sion in 1979.”9 By this point, South Africa had already constructed a device with which to conduct an explosion.10 The factor constraining South Afri- ca’s ability to test was therefore HEU, rather than a device with which to ex- plode the fissile material.11 In Buys’s words, “The design was ready, every- thing was built, we were just waiting for a sufficient quantity of enriched uranium.”12 Although South African plans to conduct a cold test in 1977 had been thwarted by the Soviet discovery of the intended test fac ili t y that the South Africans had built in the Kalahari Desert, South African engineers w ere nonetheless highly confident that the device would work. Buys recalls that “I was convinced [that a cold test was not necessary]. The Little Boy weapon that was used on Hiroshima was never tested, so why would we 80 apartheId and aggressIon have to test?”13 Waldo Stumpf, the head of the South African Atomic Energy Corporation at the time the program was dismantled, confirms that the can- cellation of the cold test did “not really” affect South African calculations about w hether the device would work, because the device was relatively simple and South African scientists had already “done a lot of other tests— firing one half of the projectile into the other half, criticality tests, e tc.”14 From late 1979, South Africa had a device that could be tested within “a few days” of an order being given, and sen ior pol itic al leaders w ere aware that South Africa had attained this capability.15 South Africa gained more sophisticated nuclear weapons in the early 1980s, with a ballistic bomb that could be de- livered by aircraft in 1982 and glide bombs beginning in 1983.16 South Af- rica also began exploring more advanced delivery systems that would have provided South Africa with a more sophisticated nuclear arsenal, including developing plans to deliver nuclear weapons using ballistic missiles and ar- tillery guns.17 Nonetheless, South Africa acquired the basic capabilities re- quired for its nuclear posture in late 1979. As a result, it is in late 1979 that we should expect nuclear weapons would begin to affect South African for- eign policy. South Africa’s Strategic Environment What effects should we expect that nuclear weapons would have on South African foreign policy? The theory of nuclear opportunism requires us to ex- amine South Africa’s strategic environment in order to make predictions about how nuclear weapons would change South African foreign policy. The first factor to examine is whether South Africa faced severe territorial threats or was involved in an ongoing war. This is straightforward b ecause in 1979 South Africa was involved in a serious ongoing war in Angola. At the point at which South Africa acquired nuclear weapons, it had already conducted a major invasion of Angola in 1975 (Operation Savannah) that had been a tactical success but a strategic disaster that left South Africa diplo- matically isolated.18 In addition, numerous smaller raids inside Angola had been conducted with the aim of destroying South West African People’s Organ ization (SWAPO) camps and supporting South Africa’s proxy in An- gola, the National Union for the Total In de pen dence of Angola (UNITA). This conflict, known as the Border War, would last until the end of the Cold War. The war in Angola was only one component of a regional environment (shown in figure 3.1) that had been worsening for South Africa since the 1960s as the African continent experienced widespread decolonization.19 Re- flecting t hese concerns, South Africa’s defense budg et increased sixfold be- tween 1961 and 1968.20 Nonetheless, the immediate threats that South Af- rica faced remained manageable until the mid-1970s. South Africa (and South 81 chapter 3 DEMO Mbuji-MayiCRATIC RE Dar es SalaamCO PN UG BO L I( CZ A OI FRE) Luanda TANZANIA Kolwesi Lubumbashi ANGOLA ZAMBIA Lusaka Lilongwe Harare ZIMBABWE NAMIBIA (RHODESIA)Bulawayo (SOUTHWEST AFRICA) BOTSWANA Windhoek Gaborone Pretoria Mbabane Johannesburg Maputo Indian Ocean ESWATINI (SWAZILAND) Bloemfontein LESOTHO Maseru Atlantic Ocean Durban SOUTH AFRICA N Port Elizabeth W E Cape Town 0 500 1000 km S 0 100 200 300 400 500 miles Figure 3.1. Southern Africa West Africa, which South Africa controlled) was bordered by Portuguese colonies that did not threaten its discriminatory domestic po liti cal institu- tions and were controlled by tens of thousands of Portuguese forces. These “frontline” states provided a buffer against the forces of nationalism, social- ism, and black pol itic al liberation that worried white South African elites.21 The colonies of Angola and Mozambique had been an import ant component of South Africa’s forward defense, and the Portuguese government had al- lowed South Africa to conduct operations against SWAPO forces in south- ern Angola.22 The white- minority government in Zimbabwe (then Rhode- sia) led by Ian Smith provided an additional sympathetic neighbor. In the mid-1970s, however, South Africa’s security environment dramati- cally worsened. In par tic u lar, the 1974 military coup in Portugal upended South Africa’s security environment and removed the cordon sanitaire be- 82 M OZAM BIQUE I AW AL M apartheId and aggressIon tween South Africa and the black majority governments to its north.23 The new ruling junta in Lisbon granted in de pen dence to Mozambique and An- gola in 1975, and informed the South Africans that they w ere no longer al- lowed to operate inside Angolan territory.24 Further, in 1979, Ian Smith lost power in Rhodesia to Robert Mugabe.25 T hese states now offered safe ha- ven to insurgents seeking the in de pen dence of South West Africa (notably, SWAPO) and the dismantlement of apartheid within South Africa. Si mul ta- neously, increasing racial tensions (most dramatically demonstrated in the 1976 Soweto riots), acts of sabotage, and international condemnation of South Africa’s internal politics threatened South Africa’s stability and the viability of the apartheid regime. South Africa’s new neighbors w ere hostile to the apartheid government, supportive of the African National Congress (ANC; the banned anti- apartheid party), and enjoyed close relations with the Soviet bloc. By late 1975, Soviet military planes had begun to transfer substantial numbers of Cuban military personnel and Soviet materiel and advisers to Angola.26 As increasingly large numbers of Cuban forces and Soviet military equipment and advisers began to enter southern Africa, South African elites perceived a far more dangerous security environment. As Waldo Stumpf writes, “Dur- ing the 1970s, especially the latter half of the dec ade, the pol iti cal and mili- tary environment around South Africa deteriorated markedly. . . . T he large buildup of Cuban military forces in Angola, beginning in 1975, which even- tually peaked at 50,000 troops, reinforced a strong perception within the gov- ernment that it would remain internationally isolated.”27 Victor Zazeraj, a South African ambassador and private assistant to Foreign Minister Pik Botha during the 1980s, recalls that the situation in southern Africa in the after- math of the Portuguese coup was “perceived and experienced as an exis- tential crisis . . . w hereby the country’s future existence, as we understood it, was under threat. . . . We had this [hostile] arc across Southern Africa that separated us from the rest of Africa.”28 Deon Fourie remembers that “every- body was shaken rigid [by Cuban and Soviet buildups].”29 There was little doubt among South African elites about the hostility of Soviet and Cuban intentions. South African elites perceived that Soviet goals in the region w ere ambitious and included the overthrow of the apartheid regime. David Steward recalls that “we believed that we were facing an ex- istential crisis and we were extremely worried about the incursion of the Soviet Union into Southern Africa b ecause . . . Southern Africa was a partic- ularly significant target for the Soviet Union. . . . T hey wanted the SACP [South African Communist Party] to take over.”30 Colo n el Jan Breytenbach, who commanded covert operations inside Angola, bluntly states: “When outside powers come to Africa, they don’t come here to enjoy a holiday. They come here to expand their influence.”31 Defence Minister Magnus Malan writes in his memoirs that the Soviet goal was “helping the communists to conquer South Africa,” and in private he would regularly use a quotation 83 chapter 3 attributed to Leonid Brezhnev: “Our goal is to get control over the two g reat trea suries on which the West depend— the energy trea sury of the Persian Gulf and the mineral trea sury of Central and Southern Africa.”32 Similarly, Major General Jannie Geldenhuys, chief of the South African Defence Force from 1985 to 1990, poses a rhetorical question in assessing the motivations of Cuba and the Soviet Union: What “did South Africa have to do with the situation in Angola during the 1970s and 1980s? Obviously, any decent per- son would ask the much more valid question: What did the island of Cuba and the Soviet Union have to do with Angola?”33 The threat that South African elites perceived was not simply the direct military threat then posed by South Africa’s neighbors. A fter all, the SADF had training and equipment superior to that of the opponents it faced in An- gola, including the Cuban forces.34 However, the fear among South African elites was that the Soviet Union had the resources to quickly escalate the con- flict with large numbers of forces and advanced equipment that South Af- rica would have no ability to counter. Thus, while South Africa maintained military superiority over the threats it faced, its superiority was vulnerable to being swiftly overturned. South African elites thus had much to fear. As David Steward recalls, “Even though we w ere confronted with fairly sophis- ticated forces in Southern Angola, we never r eally felt that we were not ca- pable of dealing with them, and we were proved to be right. . . . [But] we w ere worried that there might be further troops, further Russ ian troops, fur- ther intervention, that would then affect our conventional superiority.”35 Furthermore, South Africa’s other neighbors (such as Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Mozambique) posed no offensive military threat but could nonetheless provide a safe haven for the ANC and its military wing Umkhonte we Sizwe (MK), from which it could launch sabotage and terrorist attacks within South Africa. As Major General Gert Opperman, who commanded operations in Angola and served as military secretary to Defence Minister Malan, argues, “We never anticipated that there would be any incursion from Botswana or Zimbabwe or Mozambique of their own forces onto our territories. But they could provide the umbrella u nder which the ANC could launch incursions. Not armed incursions in the combat sense, but infiltrations—[they would be able to] get through to our infrastructure [and commit acts of sabotage and terrorism].”36 This combination of the swart gevaar (black threat) and the rooi gevaar (red threat) thus became the core probl em that apartheid South African foreign policy sought to address. Thus, while apartheid South Africa possessed substantial conventional military power, the threats it faced were significant. South Africa had a large border to defend, could draw on only a small percentage of its population to meet any potential combination of internal and external threats, and faced states whose combined population was far larger than South Africa’s and that had a superpower patron with the ability to provide military forces and capabilities that South Africa would be unable to match.37 This threat was 84 apartheId and aggressIon articulated in the apocalyptic concept of “total onslaught” that entered the South African strategic lexicon as early as 1973, and the putative South Af- rican solution in the concept of “total strategy” that saw a “reo rientation t owards a ‘landward threat’ and away from the traditional role of South Af- rica as a strategic partner of the West in protecting the sea-l anes around the southern point of Africa.”38 South Africa was therefore both involved in an ongoing war and faced severe territorial threats when it acquired nuclear weapons. As I discuss in more detail below, the theory of nuclear opportunism predicts that South Africa’s po liti cal priority should have been to improve its position against the threats it faced and that South African elites should have sought to use their nuclear capability to pursue these goals. Expectations The predictions of the theory of nuclear opportunism are straightforward in this case, because South Africa was involved in an ongoing war and faced severe territorial threats when it acquired nuclear weapons. Figure 3.2 shows the application of the theory of nuclear opportunism to the case of South Af- rica. Both aggression (the more belligerent pursuit of preexisting interests) and steadfastness (standing more firmly in defense of the status quo) against the source of the threats it faced should have been attractive foreign policy beh avi ors for South Africa. The theory therefore anticipates that South Africa would use nuclear weapons to facilitate both aggression and steadfastness. B ecause of the pol iti cal priority that states facing severe threats or involved in ongoing wars must place on improving their position against the source of the threat, the first variable in the sequence is the only one that m atters for the predictions made in the case of South Africa. Aggression and stead- fastness are the be hav iors that such states should be expected to find most attractive. States facing severe threats, for example, do not have the luxury of pursuing ind e pen dence (defined as taking actions that allies oppose or do not support), because states in this position require support from any- where they can get it. As a result, we would not expect that using nuclear weapons to facilitate in de pen dence would be an attractive option for South Africa. Similarly, states facing severe threats must improve their own secu- rity before they can begin to think about improving the security of others. Using nuclear weapons to facilitate bolstering— strengthening allies or alliances—is therefore an unattractive proposition for states facing severe threats. Considering the scale of the challenges and threats the state already faces, engaging in expansion—t he widening of a state’s interests in interna- tional politics—is also unappealing. Last, while responding to the additional security provided by nuclear weapons by showing an increased inclination to compromise— the ac cept ance of less in ongoing disputes— might be 85 chapter 3 State faces serious Aggression & 1. territorial threat/ Yes steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence No from senior ally 3. State is rising Yes Expansion, in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies No Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness towards rivals Figure 3.2. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to South Africa, 1979 predicted by the theory of the nuclear revolution, it is not predicted by the theory of nuclear opportunism. Nuclear opportunism anticipates that states seek to use their nuclear weapons to try to improve their position in inter- national politics, rather than to make concessions that they previously deemed unacceptable. The theory of nuclear opportunism, therefore, does not predict that South Africa would use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise. The theory of nuclear opportunism therefore suggests that South Africa should have used nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression and steadfastness but should not have used nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pend ence, bol- stering, expansion, or compromise in the aftermath of acquiring a testable nuclear device in late 1979. In addition to predictions about South African beh av ior, we can also make predictions about how South African elites should have thought about nuclear weapons and the benefits that nuclear weapons offered. The theory predicts that South African elites would view nuclear weapons as useful tools for advancing their interests and improv- ing their position relative to the sources of threats that they faced, and more specifically, for facilitating aggression and steadfastness against those threats. 86 apartheId and aggressIon South African Thinking about Nuclear Weapons This section examines South African elite thinking about the utility of nu- clear weapons. Did South Africa view nuclear weapons as a useful tool for improving its position against the threats it faced? Did it think about nuclear weapons as a way of facilitating aggression and steadfastness, and if so, how? In examining this question, t here are limits to the certainty of conclusions we should expect to draw. First, only a small group of South African elites actually knew about the nuclear program. Second, the renunciation of South Africa’s nuclear program and the strategic rationale b ehind it, and South Af- rica’s subsequent commitment to nonproliferation, were a core part of South Africa’s efforts to rejoin the international community in the early 1990s. As a result, and as discussed e arlier, South African officials are often reluc- tant to acknowledge that South Africa’s nuclear weapons had any strategic value at all. Third, many documents from the apartheid regime relating to the nuclear program were either destroyed or remain classified.39 Nonetheless, from the statements of military and po litic al elites one can piece together a coherent strategic rationale for South African nuclear weap- ons that is consistent with the expectations of the theory of nuclear oppor- tunism. First, South African foreign policy and conduct in the Border War were heavi ly constrained by the need to avoid triggering potential escala- tion, and, in par tic ul ar, to reduce the risk of further Soviet intervention that might overturn South Africa’s conventional military advantage. In short, South African elites wanted to act more aggressively in Angola but were deterred from doing so by the risk of escalation. Second, nuclear weapons would be helpful in solving this prob lem by reducing the risk of such esca- lation. The logical implication of these two beliefs is that by reducing the risk of escalation, nuclear weapons reduced the risk associated with South Afri- can aggression. First, there is little question that South African elites wanted to act more aggressively in Angola, but were restrained from doing so by fears of Cu- ban and, especially, Soviet escalation. Furthermore, those actions that South Africa did take were constrained in vari ous ways by the need to reduce the risks of escalation and to avoid triggering further Soviet intervention. Apartheid-e ra South African elites are consistent that fears about conflict escalation w ere a major constraint on South African be hav ior throughout the 1970s and 1980s, and t hose fears of escalation frequently prevented South African aggression. The fear was primarily due to the Soviet Union, which had the ability to flood the conflicts on South Africa’s borders with advanced equipment and further forces. As Major General Johann Dippenaar remem- bers, “Right from the beginning we were aware that there were Rus sian ad- visors and Cuban advisors, we realized that advisors could escalate to forces.”40 As a result, South Africa consistently sought to avoid giving the 87 chapter 3 Soviet Union any excuse to escalate the conflict. As Major General Opper- man recalls: “Right throughout the war t here was an elem ent of restraint . . . the types of weaponry used; the sort of targets engaged . . . would it result in unnecessary escalation?”41 Major General Roland de Vries, who com- manded operations in Angola, argues similarly that “it had to be played very carefully because the conflict could have developed into a regional war.”42 Dippenaar recalls that “politics put a lot of restrictions on all opera- tions . . . s o t here was a constant caution.”43 These constraints affected South African conduct of the Border War in a number of ways. Concerns about es- calation did not always prevent South Africa from taking military actions, but the fear of escalation by the Soviet Union was a constant constraint. As one 1981 Department of Foreign Affairs memo stated with res pect to covert South African operations in Mozambique, “It must be borne in mind that every attack upon the ANC will be interpreted as an attack on Mocambique sovereignty and thus provide a pretext for Russ ia to sink her bear-c laws deeper into that state. This should not stop us from raiding ANC bases in the f uture, but such action should be carefully considered in the light of its potential for escalating the Rus sian presence in Mocambique.”44 These fears not only constrained South African choices about which op- erations to conduct, but also constrained South African goals within indi- vidual operations. For example, South Africa sought to restrict the geo graph- i cal zones in which it operated to reduce the fears of escalation. Major General Opperman recalls commanding “an operation 250 kilo meters deep inside Zambia [in which] I was forced to withdraw overnight, although at that stage we had not yet achieved all the things that we wanted to achieve militarily. In fact, I would have liked to stay there for another week or two, but we were told to withdraw overnight. . . . Instead of continuing and doing what you believed had to be done from a military point of view, you had to withdraw. . . . One of the constant factors to be considered was: would it re- sult in unnecessary escalation of the war?”45 Col on el Breytenbach confirms that although South Africa had the capacity to hold significant territory, it did not, for fear of escalation, arguing that “we could have taken over the Cunene Province, for instance—we used to go in t here quite often to go sort out SWAPO. So we could have gone in t here with three battalions and keep them t here, but then of course the Russ ians would come back en masse,” es- calating the conflict.46 Major General de Vries recalls similar constraints: “ There were constraints . . . in terms of how far you could go. Can you at- tack Menongue? No. Can we attack Cuito Cuanavale from the west? No. Rather, stay on the eastern side of the river so that the war does not esca- late.”47 T hese constraints hampered South Africa’s ability to achieve tactical military goals. Major General Opperman recalls that visiting US command- ers “could not understand how we could accept a situation where the ground of tactical importance on the other side of the river was in the hands of the Zambian forces. They suggested we take over and control that ground, 88 apartheId and aggressIon because in the pro cess we would have greater security. But I said, ‘No, I have to live with that risk.’ If I take over that ground, it might make sense from a military point of view, a tactical point of view, but from a strategic point of view that would be exactly the type of escalation that we would like to prevent.”48 South Africa also conducted its operations in ways that aimed to mini- mize the threat of escalation. In many cases, this meant secrecy. In Opera- tion Savannah, Major General Opperman recalls that “our government had hoped that by going in covertly, we would prevent the situation from esca- lating much more rapidly.”49 South African forces “had the capability” to take the Angolan capital Luanda in that operation, but restrained themselves in large part out of fears of the escalation that overtly capturing the capital city would trigger.50 Ambassador Shearar confirms that g oing to Luanda “would have opened the door for anyone e lse to come in,” and recalls that this concern was expressed explici tly by the foreign minister at the prime minister’s residence.51 In other cases, the desire to control escalation meant ensuring that exit routes existed for South African advisers to other partici- pants in the Angolan war. As an adviser to both the National Front for the Liberation of Angola and UNITA, Col o nel Breytenbach recalls that “the first t hing you get sorted out is your escape route to get out. . . . You must be able to get away quickly. . . . When t hings start getting wrong, then you must get out. . . . You always have a standby plane or vehicle or something that you can get into and be gone.”52 The South African government also sought to control information in the public domain about South African activities in Angola, restricting reports published in South African media outlets, and seeking to discredit those appearing in foreign sources as “Communist propaganda.”53 Targeting was also carefully calibrated in order to minimize the threat of escalation. In par ticu l ar, the South Africans sought to avoid direct conflict with Russ ian forces in order to avoid triggering deeper Soviet involvement in the region. As Ambassador Victor Zazeraj recalls, “Very often t here w ere Rus sian pil ots flying . . . at the same time as our pi lots, who could hear them on the radio communications and knew the markings on the planes. T here was an unspoken rule that if it was a Rus sian pil ot or even a Cuban pi lot, the South African Air Force wouldn’t interfere with them too much. . . . You d on’t want to scratch the bear and create a probl em that you c an’t solve. We would not have wanted to draw them in, or create a pretext that would al- low them to do us more harm than we could cope with.”54 Indeed, Soviet forces may have intentionally facilitated this mutual restraint by separating themselves from the Angolan and Cuban forces. Ambassador Zazeraj noted that “the Russ ians were no worse at apartheid than we w ere. . . . Their offi- cers were not living in the same camp as the rest of them [and] made sure you could see from the air which was their camp—t hey had big hammers and sickles on their tents.” This enabled South African restraint: “Our Air 89 chapter 3 Force would be told not to hit the Russ ian camp. . . . You don’t want to have a missile go in and upset them, because then you would have a crisis.”55 The South African government also sought to centralize control over mil- itary operations. Some South African elites involved in decision making at the time claim that Pretoria exercised only weak control over what the SADF was d oing in the field, and that many SADF operations were not of- ficially sanctioned by Pretoria. David Steward, for example, argues that “very often [the SADF] didn’t tell the Department of Foreign Affairs about their adventures.”56 Such claims must be evaluated with skepticism because of the incentive that members of the apartheid regime have to claim they lacked knowledge about, and did not authorize, specific operations. The weight of evidence, however, suggests exactly the opposite: that Pretoria exercised very tight control over individual operations and did so precisely because of concerns about escalation. As Major General Opperman recalls, “We never had carte blanche. We were always very aware . . . t hat the poli- ticians were in charge.”57 Major General Dippenaar recalls that “ every time before operations could take place, we had to have approval— and t here was no chance you could have done anything without pol iti cal approval from our side. And then all t hose approvals came out with very strict condi- tions: you can’t be longer than this, you can’t take more than that kind of vehicle [ etc.].”58 Col on el Breytenbach confirms that “e very time we went across the border it was planned at the highest level, and t here w ere Gener- als sitting there on this planning committee with the Minister of Defence,” while Major General Geldenhuys writes that “a decision to cross the border was a po litic al one for which the government and the Minister of Defence carried the responsibility.”59 Col o nel Breytenbach recalls that new o rders were given on a daily basis to keep commanders on the tightest poss ib le leash, and individual commanders were often unaware of the ultimate goals of the missions they were undertaking.60 While former military com- manders may have an incentive to claim they w ere under strict o rders so as to minimize their personal responsibility for the less savory activities that occurred during the Border War, some pol itic al elites also agreed that tight po litic al control was exercised over military operations. Ambassador Zaz- eraj confirms that “control [by Pretoria] was very much the case—t hey really did not want the situation to get out of control. . . . T he po litic al elite was dead scared that something would create an international incident.”61 This micromanagement of operations by Pretoria caused tensions in civil- military relations. Major General de Vries recalls that “the high command started micromanaging the battlefront, which was highly infuriating for the commanders on the ground.”62 And officers who exceeded the bounds of their authority were punished. Major General Opperman recalls that “Col- on el Jan Breytenbach— who was one of our best tactical commanders on the ground—he de cided on his own to undertake patrols in Zimbabwe, and he was severely reprimanded because he was told that, ‘your undisciplined 90 apartheId and aggressIon actions, your initiative, might make military sense, but it would escalate the war and we don’t want that.’ ”63 Overall, the fear of escalation constrained South African aggression in the Border War in a number of ways: South Africa was cautious about the na- ture, scale, and scope of its operations in order to avoid provoking potential Soviet intervention. South African elites wanted to act more aggressively in Angola but w ere deterred from doing so by the fear of escalation. Crucially, South African elites understood that nuclear weapons offered South Africa a solution to this prob lem. In par tic ul ar, they allowed South Africa greater ability to control the risks associated with escalation. In ex- amining South African thinking surrounding the utility of the nuclear pro- gram, it is impor tant to note, as mentioned above, the limited number of people involved in discussions of South Africa’s nuclear strategy. Very few officials even knew of the existence of the nuclear program, and there was little discussion of the nuclear program within the South African govern- ment. Thus, while many in the South African Department of Foreign Af- fairs w ere skeptical of the utility of nuclear weapons for a state like South Africa that never lost its conventional military advantage,64 their views w ere marginalized within the South African decision-m aking pro cess. A fter 1978, the State Security Council “replaced the cabinet as the dominant institution in the formulation of foreign policy.”65 The State Security Council was dom- inated by the more hawkish views of President P. W. Botha and Defence Min- ister Magnus Malan and was staffed primarily by military officers.66 Major General Opperman, who served in the State Security Council as the military secretary to Defence Minister Malan, confirms that the views of President Botha and Defence Minister Malan “dominated the discussion” and that both believed that nuclear weapons served a “clear po liti cal purpose.”67 That pol itic al purpose was, in large part, to grant South Africa greater capacity to control the dangers of Soviet escalation. As early as 1977, a CIA assess- ment argued that “the [South African] rationale for g oing ahead in the de- velopment of nuclear weapons stems from a fear that ultimately South Af- rica f aces the threat of being invaded by Communist- backed black regimes and perhaps even by Soviet and Cuban forces.”68 Similarly, in 1984, the CIA concluded that it was the “threat of a [Soviet] invasion of South Africa [that required] the added protection of a credible nuclear deterrent.”69 T hese ex- ternal assessments are mirrored by the recollections of South African offi- cials. As Major General Opperman recalls, “I think . . . the fear of [Soviet] escalation, from a nuclear point of view, was also very prominent [in the rea- sons for nuclear acquisition].”70 In the words of Major General de Vries, the purpose of South African nuclear weapons was to create “a s ilent fear on the side of the Cubans and the Russ ians” to constrain their temptation to escalate the conflict.71 Indeed, the nuclear strategy that South Africa adopted—t he so-c alled three stage strategy—w as explici tly designed to provide multiple points within a 91 chapter 3 conflict at which nuclear weapons could influence the escalation calculations of opponents and allies.72 According to André Buys, the strategy was “abso- lutely” aimed at improving South Africa’s ability to deter and control esca- lation.73 As described in an internal memo, the first stage of the strategy aimed to seek some deterrent effect from uncertainty: South Africa should pursue “a ‘strategy of uncertainty’ whereby a conflicting set of perceptions regarding SA’s nuclear weapons capability is created. The greater the uncer- tainty created, the greater the deterrent effect of South Africa’s presumed capability. Only once a situation is reached where the military threat against SA increases to a point where the conventional balance of power tilts against us, should consideration be given to moving into a posture of covert disclo- sure and eventual overt displays of strength.”74 As described, the strategy was designed so that it would “go live” only if the conflict in Angola escalated to a point at which South African elites felt it threatened the survival of the state. Thus, South African nuclear weapons aimed to provide South Africa with more options should the conflict on South Africa’s borders begin to escalate beyond Pretoria’s control. As Major General Dippenaar described the purpose of South Africa’s nuclear weap- ons, “Even if t hings go terribly wrong, t here is some way of responding and reacting.”75 André Buys confirms that “the concern was that this [the Ango- lan conflict] would escalate to a point where we would not be able to curtail it. And so the question was then, what do we do then?”76 Buys continues: “The first stage was that we would keep it secret, and for that, you don’t need any physical hardware—t he strategy of uncertainty, just keep them guessing. The second stage was that if the military threat escalates to the point where we want to start activating the deterrent strategy, we would tell the United States—y ou had Ronald Reagan as president, we had Margaret Thatcher in Britain, these were people our politicians could talk to and they could be informed: ‘we’ve got this probl em, but w e’ve got nuclear weapons, so please try and intervene and get the pressure off.’ ”77 This is the catalytic nuclear posture that Narang and o thers identify.78 At a part icu lar conflict threshold— perhaps the invasion of South West Africa (Namibia) by large numbers of conventional forces—S outh Africa would have communicated to Washington its intention to conduct a nuclear test.79 Indeed, Foreign Minister Pik Botha explic itly promised President Reagan that South Africa would not test a nuclear weapon without first informing Washington.80 The purpose of such a threat would have been to use the American desire to avoid overt proliferation to persuade the United States to intervene— whether diplomatically to persuade the Soviet Union to re- strain its own clients, or militarily by providing South Africa with conven- tional reinforcements: “It was a way of getting a reluctant party to become involved and stop this thing from getting out of hand.”81 South African of- ficials were well aware that Washington was opposed to South Africa acquir- ing nuclear weapons,82 and paid careful attention to US responses to other 92 apartheId and aggressIon proliferators, including India.83 This led South African officials to believe that the United States may well be prepared to offer South Africa support— whether military or political—in order to prevent South Africa from be- coming an overt nuclear power. At the very least, the ability to threaten to test a nuclear device would, in the words of a 1984 CIA assessment, “put the United States in an awkward position.”84 However, South Africa’s nuclear strategy included plans beyond mere threats of testing, because, in Buys’s words, such threats “might not work. . . . If that [threatening to test] didn’t work, the third strategy was then the open strategy—we would detonate one under ground. If that brings sense to the military threat, if the threat is relieved, then OK. If it is not, the idea was that we would demonstrate a nuclear weapon. And what we had in mind was to actually go and do a mock attack with a nuclear weapon over the ocean— fly out and actually detonate a nuclear weapon a thousand kilometres south of South Africa in the ocean.”85 This basic strategy—w hich had been approved as early as April 1978—t hus provided opportunities for South Af- rican elites to control escalation and deter further Soviet intervention at sev- eral points in a potential conventional conflict.86 Indeed, South African of- ficials considered adding a fourth stage to the strategy, which would have provided another point at which South Africa’s nuclear capabilities could have been used to control escalation. As Buys describes, “T here was a lot of discussion about whether we should add a fourth step or not—it was never officially added, but the debate was, if that [a test over the ocean] d oesn’t work and they still attack South Africa—do we actually use it tactically? It was never approved by the politicians and thank God we never got near that—b ut it was certainly discussed. . . . We said that there might be a need for a fourth stage to the strategy, but it was never approved, which would have entailed tactical use on troops when they crossed our borders.”87 Con- sistent with these ideas of tactical nuclear use, South Africa also toyed with designs for tactical nuclear weapons and alternative delivery systems includ- ing ballistic missiles and artillery guns, but such devices were never ap- proved for construction.88 At the time, South African elites also made public but ambiguous threats that aimed to dissuade South African opponents from escalating the conflict. P. W. Botha, for example, gave a speech in 1979 in which he stated that “South Africa’s enemies may possibly find out that we have military weapons they don’t know about.” A UN report noted that the South African interior min- ister stated that if South Africa w ere attacked, “we w ill use all means at our disposal, what ever they may be. It is true that we have just completed our own pil ot plant that uses very advanced technology, and that we have ma- jor uranium reserves.”89 Other ministers also made public reference on other occasions to a “secret weapon.”90 US analysts also believed South Africa’s ambiguous nuclear status would affect its adversaries’ calculations. A 1984 CIA assessment argued that South 93 chapter 3 Africa’s nuclear posture granted it “a number of benefits, particularly for a pariah state such as South Africa. It forces Pretoria’s adversaries to assume that South Africa has a weapons capability and to f actor that assumption into their policy formation.”91 And, indeed, the ambiguous threat of nuclear es- calation did in fact reduce the willingness of Cuban forces to take par tic ul ar escalatory steps in Angola, thus easing the dangers associated with South African aggression. Ambassador Zazeraj recalls that “we only had confirma- tion [that the Cubans had changed their beh avi or out of fear of South Afri- can nuclear weapons] in 2010—we had a meeting with Jorge Risquet [Fidel Castro’s point man on Africa] who confirmed that the Cubans in Angola w ere convinced that South Africa had nuclear warheads attached to its G5 and G6 artillery. And for that reason, Cuban troops never came anywhere near the Namibian border, and never came near the South Africans. They were also split up in dif fer ent areas, so that if we did attack them with nu- clear weapons, we wouldn’t wipe all of them out.”92 Indeed, Fidel Castro himself acknowledged the role of nuclear weapons in constraining Cuban beh av ior, writing: “Our troops advanced at night . . . i n groups of no more than 1,000 men, strongly armed, at a prescribed distance from one another, always keeping in mind the possibility that the enemy might use nuclear weapons.”93 Overall, therefore, nuclear weapons were seen as providing South Africa with a tool that enabled it to deter escalation by its adversaries. Consistent with this aim, South African elites set up their nuclear strategy in a way that allowed them to attempt to control escalation at several dif fer ent conflict thresholds within an escalating conflict. If nuclear weapons allow a state to better control escalation, they also reduce the risks associated with engag- ing in aggression. First, nuclear weapons can deter an opponent from esca- lating a conflict in response to aggression. Second, even if an act of aggres- sion does lead to substantial escalation, or leads to a response from the adversary that the state is unprepared for, possessing nuclear weapons pro- vides a state with additional options in responding to, and controlling, such a situation. As a result, nuclear weapons can reduce the expected costs of engaging in activities that risk such escalation, such as aggression. Apartheid-e ra officials are, unsurprisingly, reluctant to state explici tly that they believed that nuclear weapons facilitated South African aggression. Nonetheless, a clear causal chain—w ith each stage verified by South Afri- can elites—l inks South African nuclear acquisition to an increase in South Africa’s tolerance for escalation and ability to engage in aggression. Given that South African aggression was constrained by fears of escalation and that South African officials believed nuclear weapons helped them control esca- lation, the logical conclusion would be that nuclear weapons would facili- tate South African aggression. And, indeed, at least some officials are pre- pared to make ambiguous statements that suggest nuclear weapons were not a purely defensive capability. Ambassador Victor Zazeraj states that “the 94 apartheId and aggressIon military felt that nuclear weapons had a purpose. The military thought that as long as their enemy believed that South Africa had nuclear weapons and acted accordingly, it made their lives a w hole lot easier. In some ways I think they were right. . . . It did work.”94 A memo written in 1975 by the chief of the defense staff Lieutenant General Raymond Fullarton Armstrong argues nuclear weapons could serve as a “positive weapon in our defense.”95 That nuclear weapons might facilitate aggression was also understood by outside observers: a 1980 UN report concluded that South African nuclear weapons “could also help to support extended involvement and intervention else- where in the region,” even if South Africa never revealed its capabilities and chose to “covertly stockpile weapons and rely . . . on unconfirmed but widely credited rumours that it had t hose weapons in order to further its purposes.”96 Even if former South African officials are generally (and unsurprisingly) unwilling to confirm explici tly that they viewed nuclear weapons as a tool to facilitate aggression and steadfastness, one can piece together a causal chain that reinforces that conclusion. South African elites felt constrained by concerns about escalation and viewed nuclear weapons as a tool that could be used to deter and control escalation. Nuclear weapons may therefore have been seen as reducing the risks associated with both aggression and stead- fastness. But if so, did South African be hav ior change as the theory expects? Did South African tolerance for escalation, and willingness to engage in be- hav iors that it had previously eschewed for fears of escalation, rise a fter acquiring nuclear weapons? South African Foreign Policy We are therefore able to trace a logic in how South African officials thought about nuclear weapons that seems consistent with the theory of nuclear op- portunism. However, did South Africa’s foreign policy beh av ior change in the way that the theory suggests? The theory of nuclear opportunism an- ticipates that South Africa should have used nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression and steadfastness after late 1979. I first examine South Africa’s beh av ior in its primary ongoing conflict during the 1970s and 1980s to as- sess w hether South African beh av ior changed at the point of nuclear acqui- sition. I then examine the other foreign policy beh avi ors in the typology. I look at South Africa’s foreign policy with res pect to its (few) allies to assess whether South Africa behaved more in de pen dently or sought to bolster al- lies to a greater degree in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition. Fin ally, I ex- amine whether South Africa’s ambitions in the region widened in a way that indicates South African expansion in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition. Did South Africa become more aggressive in its conduct of the ongoing Border War in 1979, as the theory of nuclear opportunism would suggest? 95 chapter 3 Did South Africa defend its position more steadfastly? Or did South Africa become more willing to compromise a fter nuclear acquisition? This section examines South Africa’s conduct in its most import ant ongoing conflict, the civil war in Angola, and the broader Border War. I assess whether in the af- termath of nuclear acquisition, South Africa became more willing to make compromises, whether South Africa pushed more aggressively in pursuit of its goals, and w hether South Africa became more willing to fight to defend the status quo. We can first examine how the macro-l evel patterns of conflict that South Africa was involved in changed over time. In the ten years preceding South African nuclear acquisition, South Africa was involved in an average of 1.25 MIDs per year. Consistent with the idea that South Africa behaved more ag- gressively in existing disputes, in the ten years following nuclear acquisi- tion, the number of conflicts r ose by 25 p ercent to 1.55 MIDs per year. Simi- larly, we can examine the military operations that South Africa undertook in Angola in the few years before and a fter acquiring nuclear weapons. As table 3.1 shows, in the three years before South Africa acquired nuclear weap- ons (1977, 1978, and 1979), it engaged in just three major military opera- tions in Angola— Seiljag, Reindeer, and Rekstok— and (with the exception of a paratrooper raid at Cassinga as part of Operation Reindeer) kept its op- erations close to the Angolan border. In the three years a fter acquiring nu- clear weapons (1980, 1981, and 1982), South Africa engaged in many more major military operations in Angola and became more comfortable conduct- ing military operations deeper inside Angolan territory. We can also examine South African conduct in individual operations in more detail. In the years preceding nuclear acquisition, South Africa was rel- atively cautious in the operations it undertook in Angola (with Operation Savannah providing a notable exception, which is discussed further below). South Africa generally conducted its operations covertly, staying close to the border between Angola and Namibia, and generally l imited the man- power and heavy weaponry dedicated to them. South African efforts to undermine the ongoing insurgency in South West Africa had been u nder way since the 1960s, but it was in 1974 that the SADF took over responsibility for counterinsurgency operations from the South Af- rican Police, just weeks before the coup d’état overthrowing Portugal’s fas- cist dictatorship.97 In the aftermath of the coup, South Africa could no lon- ger rely on Portuguese forces to prevent SWAPO fighters from setting up bases within Angola from which to conduct raids inside South West Africa, and could no longer count on support in conducting anti-S WAPO patrols north of the border. For SWAPO, this provided an enormous benefit: SWAPO leader Sam Nujoma wrote that “it was as if a locked door had suddenly swung open,” and SWAPO moved its headquarters to the Angolan capital of Luanda.98 Within weeks, southern Angola and north South West Africa were “swarming with SWAPO armed bands.”99 96 apartheId and aggressIon Table 3.1 South African military operations in Angola before and a fter nuclear acquisition Three years before nuclear acquisition (1977, 1978, 1979) Operation Date Location(s) Distance to border (km) Seiljag Feb. 1978 Yati Strip 14.0 Reindeer May 1978 Chetequera 29.2 Dombondola 6.5 Cassinga 253.2 Rekstok Mar. 1979 Oncocua 36.4 Mongua 73.6 Three years after nuclear acquisition (1980, 1981, 1982) Operation Date Location(s) Distance to border (km) Sceptic May 1980 Ionde 118.8 Chifufua 180.0 Chitumba 90.0 Vastrap July 1980 Cuamato 35.0 Klipklop July 1980 Chitado 5.0 Wishbone Dec. 1980 Ongiva 33.8 Xangongo 68.6 Konyn Aug. 1981 Cahama 121.9 Chibemba 154.5 Carnation June 1981 Ongiva 33.8 Protea Aug. 1981 Ongiva 33.8 Xangongo 68.6 Cahama 121.9 Daisy Nov. 1981 Ionde 118.8 Indungo 300.0 Mupa 134.7 Mispel Nov. 1981 Ongiva 33.8 Kerslig Nov. 1981 Luanda 890.6 Makro Dec. 1981 Ongiva 33.8 Super Mar. 1982 Cambêno Valley 24.2 Iona 33.3 Meebos I Mar. 1982 Ongiva 33.8 Evale 93.3 Meebos II July 1982 Ongiva 33.8 Xangongo 68.6 Cassinga 253.2 Hawks in the SADF wanted to cross the Angolan border at this stage to “clobber SWAPO on the other side.”100 But South Africa held back, with Prime Minister John Vorster remaining particularly cautious. It was only when the United States and the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) encour- aged South Africa to take action to prevent the Marxist Popul ar Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) from taking power in Luanda that South Africa undertook a significant military operation deep inside Angola, in Operation Savannah. The precise role that the United States played in en- couraging South African action is disputed, and US reco rds downplay the 97 chapter 3 US role.101 Nonetheless, South African elites had no doubt that the United States had encouraged action. David Steward recalls that South Africa went into Angola “with the support of the United States,” a claim confirmed by Major General Opperman, who argued that “one of the conditions of the American promises to become involved [was that] their role should not be [revealed].”102 Ambassador Victor Zazeraj is adamant that South Africa went into Angola “at the request of the US” and that South Africa would not have considered doing so without American encouragement and the promise of American reinforcements, a suggestion that is backed up by the serious mis- givings that many South African cabinet members (including the prime minister) held regarding the operation.103 Although US officials have sought to play down the American role, Ches- ter Crocker, the Reagan administration’s se nior official working on south- ern Africa, acknowledges that “our winks and nods formed part of the cal- culus of Angola’s neighbors.”104 Piero Gleijeses, a historian generally unsympathetic to the apartheid regime, confirms that Pretoria “might other- wise have hesitated” had it not been for American encouragement.105 And, indeed, US officials made public statements that implied support for South African intervention. In a speech that the South African embassy forwarded to the secretary for foreign affairs, US secretary of state Henry Kissinger stated that “the forces in control of the capital city of Luanda achieved this position through a very substantial inflow of communist arms. . . . The United States does not feel that it w ill recognize the faction [the MPLA] that has . . . seized that capital city [of Luanda] by foreign assistance. . . . W e would support any move that keeps outside powers out of Angola, and we would participate in such a move.”106 South Africa’s initial objectives in Operation Savannah w ere rather mod- est: to help UNITA reclaim territory it had previously controlled. Further- more, South Africa hoped to accomplish t hese goals while maintaining the secrecy of its role, due to fears that an overt invasion would create signifi- cant escalation dynamics.107 However, South Africa achieved tactical suc- cesses well beyond what was expected. Despite using mostly World War II–e ra equipment and materiel, South African forces achieved quick and dra- matic advances, with a CIA operative describing it as “the most effective military strike force ever seen in black Africa, exploding through the MPLA/ Cuban ranks in a blitzkrieg,” and with one commander moving “more than 3,100km up a hostile coast in a mere 33 days of movement” for the loss of just one South African life.108 South African forces even ended up within striking distance of Luanda, although the cabinet was informed that several hundred casualties would likely result if South Africa attempted to take the Angolan capital.109 But South Africa’s efforts to maintain secrecy failed, and its intervention in An- gola was widely reported around the world. More importantly, the escala- tion that South Africa feared trans pired: within weeks, thirty-s ix thousand 98 apartheId and aggressIon Cuban troops and three hundred tanks had arrived on Angolan territory, making further advances increasingly challenging for South African forces.110 In addition, the United States abandoned its tacit support for South Africa, with Congress passing the Clark amendment, forbidding aid to groups fight- ing in Angola.111 An OAU vote recognizing the MPLA as the legitimate gov- ernment of Angola removed any trace of international legitimacy from the South African intervention, and South Africa was forced to withdraw.112 In the aftermath of Operation Savannah, SWAPO was “in a stronger mil- itary position than ever before. . . . It could set up an open training, admin- istrative and logistics structure inside Angola and launch its insurgents southwards as it chose,” and South African elites w ere aware that the “se- curity commitment on our borders is likely to get bigger, not smaller.”113 De- spite these threats, for the rest of 1976 South Africa restricted itself to minor operations, fearful of triggering further escalation.114 South African forces stayed mostly on the South West African side of the border, particularly in Northern Ovamboland, where they achieved some success against SWAPO insurgents.115 The same pattern continued throughout most of 1977, despite SWAPO achieving increasing lethality and operational skills due to the train- ing it was receiving from Cuban advisers.116 However, attacks against South African forces in northern South West Africa by insurgents, who would of- ten fall back across the border into Angola when South Africa responded, became increasingly common and difficult for South African forces to deal with.117 One incident in October 1977 led to South Africa crossing the Ango- lan border in a more substantial way. South Africa responded to an unusu- ally large group of around ninety insurgents crossing into Ovamboland that attacked a South African patrol. At the end of the skirmish, the South Afri- cans had penetrated twenty-o ne kilom eters into Angola and killed sixty-o ne insurgents, for a loss of five South African forces. Thus, overall, South Africa continued to behave in a relatively restrained manner inside Angolan territory. Nonetheless, it continued to respond when attacked, harried insurgents in South West Africa, and gave short shrift to a peace proposal made by Britain, the United States, France, West Germany, and Canada (the “Western Five”) that it viewed as unacceptable b ecause it would have required a substantial South African drawdown from South West Africa without corresponding concessions on the Angolan side of the border.118 At the end of 1977, however, Prime Minister Vorster and advisers met in the resort of Oubosstrand with the belief that it was necessary to take stron- ger actions against SWAPO. In spite of this, Vorster was hesitant to take the war into Angola and concerned about the poss ib le escalation that might re- sult. Ultimately, a compromise was reached: tanks could be used but not aircraft, operations must be kept clandestine, and any military operations had to be approved at the highest level to reduce the risk of escalation.119 No immediate actions were taken, however, and a planned operation (Opera- tion Bruilof) that would have taken place twenty-fi ve kilo meters inside 99 chapter 3 Angola was abandoned for reasons that remain unclear.120 Some of the planning for Bruilof was expanded and folded into a more ambitious plan, labeled “Reindeer,” that was implemented in early May 1978 and hit three geog raph i cally separate targets si mul ta neously. Two of these targets, Chet- equera and Dombondola, were close to the Angolan border, but the third, a camp near the town of Cassinga, was deeper inside Angolan territory. The attack on Cassinga was conducted by air, with South African special forces parachuted in and flown out to avoid the need for a substantial invasion of Angolan territory that would have risked escalation.121 The South Africans viewed the attack as a success, although it ignited controversy over w hether the camp attacked was a SWAPO military installation or a refugee camp protected by SWAPO forces, with critics accusing the South Africans of massacring hundreds of civilians, including many w omen and c hildren.122 In the aftermath of Operation Reindeer, up u ntil the point at which South Africa acquired nuclear weapons, South African actions w ere again more restrained, although two “modest” operations took place in March 1979 (Operation Rekstok and Operation Saffraan) inside Angola and Zambia.123 Overall, therefore, South African beh av ior in the period leading up to nu- clear acquisition was relatively restrained in terms of avoiding escalatory interventions inside Angola. While South Africa responded forcefully to at- tacks inside South West Africa, it did not generally conduct operations in- side Angola with two exceptions, Operation Savannah and Operation Rein- deer. In the former, South Africa had an increased tolerance for escalation because it anticipated support from the United States that failed to appear. The latter was a swift raid followed by a quick withdrawal of South African forces designed to minimize the risk of escalation. Although Operation Sa- vannah demonstrated that South Africa had the military capabilities to con- duct operations deep inside Angola, and South Africa was acquiring new conventional military capabilities over this period that increased its ability to proj ect military power into Angola, South Africa generally sought to avoid conducting operations inside Angolan territory, and certainly avoided leav- ing forces in Angola for substantial periods of time.124 After acquiring nuclear weapons, however, South Africa became consid- erably more comfortable going deeper inside Angolan territory, doing so with greater regularity, and using heavier weaponry and larger numbers of forces to do so. Starting in 1979, South African officials began to take actions that would escalate the conflict in Angola, and began to adopt more ambi- tious goals in the conflict. A 1979 State Security Council document by De- fence Minister Malan proposed a new strategy for Angola. He argued that “the po liti cal situation in Angola must be kept as unstable and fluid as pos- si ble,” with the objective being the creation of “an anti-M arxist government in Angola.”125 P. W. Botha also approved “a more pro-a ctive stance for the SA Defence Force.”126 As Robert Scott Jaster argues, “The war against SWAPO began in earnest in 1979.”127 This change in strategy was noticed by the out- 100 apartheId and aggressIon side world: a UN report from 1980 noted that a “significant reassessment and shift of South Africa’s military and pol itic al posture” had occurred and that South Africa was dedicating significant resources to “extensive military operations on or across its borders.”128 In May 1980, a few months a fter South Africa had acquired nuclear weap- ons, a decision was made that “SWAPO had to be taken on and beaten in its lair [Angola].”129 This operation, code- named “Sceptic,” was to take place in June 1980, and unlike in any operation since Savannah, the plan was that South African forces would stay inside Angolan territory for a significant period of time to deal with any SWAPO forces that escaped the initial as- saults on bases at Chifufua, Ionde, and Chitumba. This marked a change from the pre-1979 South African modus operandi of quick strikes inside An- golan territory followed by a swift exit. Major General Geldenhuys de- scribed the new strategy as “comparable to what happens when an ant-h ill is kicked open. The ants scatter, you search for them around their nest and they lead you to new nests. . . . A combination of area operations, follow-u ps, and search-a nd- destroy operations [is] launched to locate and destroy them.”130 Such an approach required a considerably higher South African tolerance for keeping forces inside Angolan territory than it had typically had before 1979 (with the exception of Operation Savannah, in which South Africa believed it had US support). Scholtz summarizes the change: “Op- eration Sceptic . . . was an import ant development in the Border War. Its pre- dec es sors, operations Reindeer, Rekstok and Saffraan, had been limited in scope and time. Sceptic evolved into a much longer operation, during which P eople’s Liberation Army of Namibia (PLAN) was hunted deep within its own rear areas in Angola for about three weeks. Apart from Savannah, this was the biggest and longest operation the SADF had been involved in since 1945.”131 Steenkamp concurs: Sceptic was “a far more ambitious venture than any of the previous external operations.”132 South Africa’s greater comfort with escalation continued a fter Operation Sceptic and is confirmed by participants in the conflict. Both Major General Opperman and Ambassador Zazeraj, for example, confirm that South Afri- can tolerance for escalation increased in the 1980s, while the historian Piero Gleijeses argues that South African elites “ratcheted up the pressure on South Africa’s neighbors.”133 Throughout the rest of 1980 and early 1981, South Af- rica launched operations inside Angola, including Operation Klipklop in July 1980 and Operation Carnation, which ran from June to August 1981.134 In May 1981, se nior SADF officials concluded that they had to operate in An- gola on a more sustained basis and “dominate a territory, instead of g oing in after specific bases and leaving again afterwards.”135 The resulting dis- cussions led to Operation Protea. Protea used over four thousand troops and would be the largest SADF operation in the entire Border War and the larg- est mechanized operation by the South African Army since World War II.136 Protea marked a further increase in South African aggression. For the first 101 chapter 3 time, South African forces took a semi-p ermanent occupying role within the province of Cunene, and the invasion was “so brazen that it provoked wide- spread condemnation from Western governments.”137 Such operations could not be undertaken without escalating the conflict. And, indeed, the Angolan army, the People’s Armed Forces for the Liberation of Angola (FAPLA), joined in the conflict between PLAN and the SADF on PLAN’s side. The Cubans also began to play an increasing role, with Cuban pi lots flying MiG-21s close to the combat zone (with one Cuban-p iloted MiG-21 shot down by a South African Mirage), and the Soviet Union delivered T-54 and T-55 tanks and antiaircraft missiles to FAPLA.138 While South Africa had previously sought to avoid such escalation, such concerns appeared less binding a fter 1979. South Africa followed Operation Protea with further operations “like waves in the wake of Protea.”139 Operation Daisy, a major operation targeting territory three hundred kilom eters inside Angola (the deepest into Angola that the SADF would ever seek to strike during the Bor- der War), was followed by other significant operations—O peration Makro in December 1981–J anuary 1982, Operation Meebos I in March 1982, and Operation Meebos II in July and August 1982—a ll aimed at destroying SWAPO capabilities but with far less sensitivity to escalation than South Africa had previously exhibited.140 While 1982 saw some largely unsuccessful efforts to negotiate a cease-fi re, the war continued at a low level with regular contacts between the SADF and SWAPO on and around the Angola- Namibia border, occasional South African operations over the Angolan border, and continued South African violations of Angolan airspace, something that South African officials no lon- ger sought to hide. While such sorties w ere primarily for reconnaissance purposes, they occasionally engaged Angolan forces, and shot down an An- golan MiG-21 in October 1982. South Africa also continued to assist UNITA, facilitating a large expansion of the territory under its control and support- ing a full-s cale UNITA assault on an Angolan garrison at Cangamba, killing 120 Cuban forces.141 Further, the escalation that South Africa most feared and had previously sought to avoid—a larger- scale Soviet involvement in Angola—w as becoming increasingly likely. Increasing quantities of Soviet materiel w ere flowing into Angola, and a South African official in the United States was handed a note in November 1983 from a Soviet diplomat stating that “South Africa’s continued occupation of Angolan soil and support for UNITA was unacceptable. . . . T he USSR would give Luanda all the support it needed to protect its sovereignty and territorial integrity.”142 Whereas be- fore 1979 South Africa sought to avoid such escalation and controlled its op- erations accordingly, South Africa responded to this Soviet threat by launch- ing Operation Askari, a large- scale operation aimed at destroying SWAPO’s ability to launch an assault into South West Africa in early 1984. In par tic u- lar, South Africa sought to force FAPLA forces in the Angolan provinces of Cahama, Mulondo, Caiundo, and Cuvelai to retreat, and sought to domi- 102 apartheId and aggressIon nate the approach routes that SWAPO would use in the event of an assault on South West Africa.143 Askari was a significant operation, requiring large numbers of forces deep inside Angola. South African military leaders antici- pated that the operation would last for two months, and an SADF planning document acknowledged that achieving South Africa’s goals in the conflict would be “time- consuming.”144 Again, the result of South African aggres- sion was escalation: “With the growing role of the Soviet Union . . . o utside factors grew in importance, while South African control over the course of the war diminished.”145 As in the aftermath of Operation Protea, Askari led to a short- lived and unsuccessful effort to achieve a peace settlement.146 This did not stop further SADF actions deep inside Angolan territory: in July 1984, South African Special Forces Commandos destroyed an oil pipeline in An- gola’s northernmost province, which led to the loss of forty-t wo thousand barrels of oil, and an Angolan and East German ship w ere damaged by mines that had been laid by the South Africans in the Luanda harbor.147 Major con- ventional operations also continued, in addition to acts of sabotage and co- vert operations, with Operation Boswilger and Operation Egret being un- dertaken inside Angolan territory in 1985, and the war continuing to escalate u ntil the late 1980s. Overall, therefore, South Africa became more aggressive in the period a fter acquiring nuclear weapons. This change in be hav ior does not itself prove that nuclear acquisition caused the change. However, in combination with the evidence that South African elite thinking viewed nuclear weapons as a tool for reducing the risk of escalation associated with aggression, it suggests that South Africa both thought and behaved in a manner consistent with the expectations of the theory of nuclear opportunism. Did South Africa also become more willing to compromise in the after- math of nuclear acquisition? Overall, t here is l ittle evidence to suggest this. While periodic peace initiatives w ere launched throughout the period, South Africa’s demands remained constant. The basic South African negotiating position throughout the period, as articulated by Foreign Minister Pik Botha, was that “we w ere not ready to exchange [a war] on the Cunene [River, marking the border between Namibia and Angola] for a war on the Orange [River, marking the border between Namibia and South Africa]. . . . If South- west Africa was governed by SWAPO t here would be a serious risk that the Russ ians would threaten South Africa from that territory.”148 While South Africa accepted an ind ep end ent Namibia in princip le, it did not want to withdraw from South West Africa as long as d oing so might increase the threat to South African territory. This position l ater became known as the princip le of “linkage”: that the withdrawal of Cuban forces from Angola and an end to SWAPO attacks within South West Africa were a prerequisite for a pro cess that would lead to Namibian ind e pend ence.149 In real ity, this meant that negotiations over the future of South West Africa were something of a sham. South African elites recognized that a free election in Namibia would 103 chapter 3 lead to SWAPO coming to power, an outcome that was unacceptable for South Africa and that precluded a full-s cale South African withdrawal from South West Africa.150 Overall, therefore, South Africa did not become more willing to compromise in the aftermath of acquiring nuclear weapons. It seems reasonably clear that South Africa engaged in increased aggres- sion in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, and did not engage in greater efforts to compromise. However, w hether South Africa also engaged in greater steadfastness in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, as the theory of nuclear opportunism anticipates, is less clear. Even in the period before nuclear acquisition, South Africa responded forcefully to SWAPO attacks in- side South West Africa but merely restrained itself in terms of operations inside Angolan territory that aimed at degrading SWAPO’s capability to launch attacks. In the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, South Africa contin- ued to respond forcefully to SWAPO attacks but also engaged in more ag- gressive preemptive actions aimed at destroying SWAPO’s military capabili- ties and reducing its capacity to plan and execute attacks. Thus, it is hard to identify any substantial changes in South Africa’s steadfastness over the pe- riod of nuclear acquisition. Instead, the change in South Africa’s foreign policy seems to have largely been an increase in aggression. Thus, this ex- pectation of the theory of nuclear opportunism is not confirmed—n uclear opportunism anticipates an increase in South African steadfastness that we do not see in the historical evidence. What about the remaining three be hav iors? Did South Africa engage in greater levels of in de pend ence, defined as becoming more willing to take actions that its allies opposed? Did South Africa seek to strengthen its allies and thus engage in greater levels of bolstering? And did South Africa en- gage in expansion—w idening its interests in international politics? South Af- rica’s increasing international isolation over the time period makes assess- ing t hese claims reasonably straightforward, b ecause South Africa lacked allies that it would have sought ind e pen dence from, and allies that it could have plausibly sought to bolster. South Africa was “the skunk of the world,” and South African foreign policy calculations were made on the assumption that “we were on our own.”151 The only actor that could have plausibly restrained South Africa in the pre- nuclear period, and from which South Africa might have sought ind e pen- dence from in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, was the United States. And indeed, as discussed above, South Africa’s nuclear posture was in large part aimed at encouraging US intervention in southern Africa if the conventional situation escalated beyond South Africa’s ability to control it. In truth, how- ever, South African elites did not view the United States as in any way com- mitted to providing for South Africa’s security. Indeed, this assessment of US ambivalence about South African security was part of the reason for the cata- lytic nuclear strategy, since it was believed that absent South African nuclear weapons, the United States would be highly unlikely to assist South Africa.152 104 apartheId and aggressIon As discussed above, the South Africans felt that the United States had left them in the lurch during Operation Savannah, and from that point on they regarded the United States as (at best) a fickle and unreliable ally. In Major General de Vries’s words, “I don’t think the United States was seen as an ally for our counterinsurgency war in South-W est Africa and south- ern Angola. They dropped us with Operation Savannah. . . . They weren’t our allies; t here was no support from Americans on the ground. So we didn’t like them that much.”153 As Major General Opperman recalls, “I think the United States lost all their credibility as an ally during Operation Savannah. We realized that the United States had only one interest, and that was their personal interest in the situation. . . . I d on’t think we ever con- sidered the Americans to be reliable.”154 Major General Dippenaar de- scribes the lack of reliability of US patronage, saying “One day they [the United States] will support you, the next day there will be a vote and they will say, ‘Stop the support.’ ”155 These sentiments w ere also expressed by South African leaders at the time, with Vorster telling the Rhodesians soon a fter Operation Savannah that “anyone who relied on the USA has his deepest sympathy,” and P. W. Botha telling parliament that “we [went into Angola] with the approval and knowledge of the Americans. But they left us in the lurch.”156 South Africans recognized that although there were factions in the US Congress and executive branch who w ere inclined to support them, t here w ere also powerf ul forces pushing in the opposite direction, both inside and outside the government.157 South African diplomat Pieter Snyman, who served in Washington, recalls that “we had good friends in Congress and in the administration, but [we knew that] they [might] succumb to the pres- sure of their own [antiapartheid] constituencies.”158 While the United States might sometimes offer support to South Africa, South African diplomats were well aware that such support could never be relied on. A memo from the South African ambassador to the minister for foreign affairs in 1977 sum- marized South Africa’s view of the United States: “South Africa w ill always be available as a target [ because of apartheid]. . . . I n the circumstances South Africa can expect little overt understanding and no assistance.”159 As a result, South Africa did not feel constrained by the need to maintain support from Washington, because it did not feel it was getting much US support, and certainly did not believe that the United States could be relied on to contribute to South African security. Major General de Vries confirms that South Africa did not, therefore, fear the loss of US support. South Af- rica was able in large part to “ignore the bad reputation and the snide re- marks that came from countries such as the Western powers,” because it did not cost South Africa anything to do so.160 A 1981 CIA assessment concurred that South African elites believe they “can no longer rely upon the West for its security” and that “South Africa’s policies on nuclear weapons w ill be made fairly ind e pen dently of any U.S. security interests. Whether to develop 105 chapter 3 and display a nuclear weapons capability will depend almost entirely on the Afrikaners’ sense of domestic and regional security.”161 South Africa certainly imposed constraints on its actions in the Border War, as discussed above, but these were imposed by fears of escalation rather than by fears of a withdrawal of Western support. As a result, after acquir- ing nuclear weapons, South Africa did not become more ind e pen dent of the United States. In fact, the South African relationship with Washington be- came closer in the 1980s. The Reagan administration placed a lower priority on domestic reform within South Africa; sought to “nurture evolutionary change” by working with, rather than isolating, the South African regime;162 fought against (and vetoed) congressional legislation to impose sanctions on South Africa; and had greater tolerance for South African efforts to circum- vent international sanctions. This shift in the US– South African relationship was not due to South Africa’s nuclear weapons but due to the Reagan ad- ministration’s greater ideological sympathy for the apartheid regime, its greater concerns about Soviet influence in the region, and the reduced pri- ority it placed on h uman rights promotion within its foreign policy. An in- ternal 1985 memo to Patrick Buchanan, Reagan’s communications director, described the administration’s position as “We d on’t like apartheid but w e’re just afraid to be too hard on S. Africa if the likely outcome will be commu- nism,” while also acknowledging that the Reagan administration had some- times “sounded like lazy apologists for apartheid.”163 As the South African foreign minister put it in a memo to colleagues: the Reagan administration’s assessment of its interests in Southern Africa was “more clinical and less a function of moral outrage [at apartheid]. . . . T his will bring an end . . . t o the acc ep tance as an article of faith of the need to promote, irrespective of the cost, po litic al liberalisation in South Africa.”164 Nonetheless, both parties re- mained wary of each other. In the words of a US State Department briefing paper preparing the secretary of state for a meeting with the South African foreign minister early in the Reagan administration, “The South Africans are deeply suspicious of us. . . . S outh African truculence (which can be coated with great charm) is compounded by the fact that, as an international pa- riah, the country has had no meaningful, balanced bilateral relations in re- cent memory.”165 South Africa also lacked allies that it would have felt any inclination to bolster. As Theresa Papenfus concludes in her biography of Pik Botha, “ After Operation Savannah it was clearer than ever that South Africa had no friends.”166 While South Africa had proxies that it supported in pursuit of its regional goals (notably UNITA in Angola and the Liberation Front of Mo- zambique in Mozambique), these were not states that South Africa could use nuclear weapons to bolster. Aside from the United States, South Africa’s most meaningful relationship over the period was with Israel, with which South Africa enjoyed an impor- tant, though highly secretive, relationship.167 The South Africa–I srael rela- 106 apartheId and aggressIon tionship bought South Africa access to Israel’s advanced conventional weap- onry and nuclear technologies, and South African military officials frequently found themselves in Israel to shepherd through such deals. Ma- jor General Dippenaar, for example, recalls being posted to Israel as an “agricultural adviser,” although in reali ty he was t here to learn from the way the Israelis conducted mobile warfare and to facilitate “transferring technologies which would then help with the development of other weapon systems.”168 Despite its importance, the South African–I sraeli relationship was largely transactional and based on mutually beneficial material exchanges: technol- ogy and arms transfers from Israel to South Africa, and natur al resources (including uranium) and currency transfers in the opposite direction. As Sa- sha Polakow-S uransky summarizes the relationship, “Israel profited hand- somely from arms exports and South Africa gained access to cutting- edge weaponry at a time when the rest of the world was turning against the apart- heid state. . . . Israel denied its ties with South Africa, claiming that it op- posed apartheid . . . e ven as it secretly strengthened the arsenal of a white supremacist government.”169 The transactional nature of the relationship, the vast distances between the two countries, and the more immediate defense priorities that both countries felt meant that South Africa felt no inclination to directly provide for Israel’s security. As a result, South Africa did not con- sider it pol itic ally attractive to seek to bolster Israel’s position in the M iddle East in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, and there is little evidence that the relationship changed in its aims or scope as South Africa acquired nu- clear weapons: substantial conventional arms transfers continued much as before. Indeed, the secrecy of the South African–I sraeli relationship in both countries meant that any public bolstering of e ither state by the other would have been deeply po litic ally challenging. As a result, and in line with the expectations of the theory of nuclear op- portunism, South Africa did not use nuclear weapons to facilitate either bol- stering or in dep en dence in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition. Nor did South Africa give any thought to engaging in expansion. South Africa was a state seeking to hold on to its position in southern Africa. Over the period of nuclear acquisition, South Africa was being buffeted from both within and without as it faced Soviet and Cuban forces in neighboring coun- tries, diplomatic isolation, stringent antiapartheid sanctions, and increasing domestic instability and economic turmoil. For South Africa, merely main- taining its international position and domestic pol itic al institutions was be- coming more and more challenging. As a result, it would have been highly surprising if South Africa had significantly expanded its interests in world politics in response to nuclear acquisition. And, indeed, while South Africa frequently went on the offense in Southern Africa, its strategic goals were ul- timately defensive and status quo oriented: to hold on to what it had. In Scholtz’s words, “The South African posture was offensive on the tactical, 107 chapter 3 operational, and military strategic levels, but defensive on the security- strategic level. . . . T he government wanted primarily to preserve the status quo, but realised that a defensive military strategy and operational and tacti- cal approach would not be sufficient.”170 No new alliances w ere entered into in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, nor did South Africa initiate disputes with countries within which it did not already have long-s tanding conflict. In the aftermath of nuclear acquisition, South African foreign policy thus re- mained firmly focused on the Frontline States, on its long-s tanding relation- ship with Israel, and on its fractious relationship with the United States, and held the ultimate goal of maintaining, not expanding, South Africa’s position. This expectation of the theory of nuclear opportunism, therefore, is con- firmed: South Africa did not use nuclear weapons to pursue expansion. Other Explanations The theory of nuclear opportunism thus performs well but not perfectly. It correctly anticipates that South Africa would use nuclear weapons to facili- tate aggression and would not use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise, in de pend ence, bolstering, or expansion. However, it incorrectly anticipates that South Africa would use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness, which we do not see in the historical rec ord. How do other theories perform in explaining the South African response to nuclear acquisition? The theory of the nuclear revolution predicts that nuclear weapons would make South Africa more secure, and thus that South Africa would have less need to engage in aggression, expansion, or bolstering—a ll of which are be- hav iors driven by insecurity in the view of the theory of the nuclear revolu- tion. However, the theory predicts that states may use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness, ind e pen dence, and compromise after acquiring nu- clear weapons. The theory of the nuclear revolution thus makes several cor- rect predictions in the South African case: South Africa did not use nuclear weapons to facilitate expansion or bolstering. But, in contrast to the predic- tions of the nuclear revolution, South Africa used nuclear weapons to facili- tate aggression, it did not use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness or ind ep end ence, and it did not exhibit a greater inclination to compromise after acquiring nuclear weapons. The theory of the nuclear revolution does not, therefore, perform as well as the theory of nuclear opportunism. S. Paul Kapur’s theory anticipates that South Africa would not have used nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression.171 Kapur anticipates that only con- ventionally weak, revisionist states use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggres- sion. South Africa was conventionally strong relative to its neighbors at the point at which it acquired nuclear weapons. As discussed above, although South Africa faced serious threats during the period in which it acquired nuclear weapons, it never lost its conventional military superiority over its 108 apartheId and aggressIon opponents.172 Because Kapur’s theory requires both conventional weakness and revisionist preferences to predict increased aggression, Kapur would therefore predict that South Africa would not have used nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression.173 Kapur’s theory thus misses the impor tant way in which nuclear acquisition affected South African foreign policy: by facilitat- ing conventional aggression. A case- specific alternative explanation would be that the increase in South African elites’ tolerance for escalation occurred not b ecause of nuclear weap- ons but because of South Africa’s increasing conventional military capabili- ties, which gave them greater power projection capabilities. As Col o nel Brey- tenbach points out: “It depends on capability—h ow deep you can go.”174 Similarly, David Steward argues that South Africa s topped its advance in Operation Savannah in 1975 because “our defence force was completely un- prepared for an operation of this scale—it didn’t have artillery at that time, it had rudimentary 25 pounder cannons from the Second World War and it had overextended itself. . . . B y the 80s we had significantly improved our operational capability . . . a nd this increased the capability of the SADF to operate.”175 It is certainly true that South African defense expenditure and military manpower r ose dramatically throughout the 1970s and 1980s. South African military expenditure rose from $359 million in 1970 to $2.24 billion in 1979 and $3.6 billion by 1989.176 This increase included expenditure on ma- jor new weapons systems (including the G5 and G6 artillery pieces, and the Cheetah fighter jet) that were commissioned and integrated into South Af- rica’s force structure over this period.177 The weight of evidence, however, would argue against this explanation. First, South African capabilities w ere growing constantly over the entire pe- riod, and t here was not a discontinuous change in capabilities in 1979 that might explain the change in South African beh avi or observed. Second, the evidence suggests that capabilities w ere not the relevant constraint on South African beh av ior. After all, Operation Savannah proved that South Africa could conduct operations deep inside Angolan territory, but Savannah was undertaken only b ecause South African elites anticipated US support that failed to materialize. Such large-s cale operations w ere not tolerated again u ntil after South Africa had acquired nuclear weapons, despite South Afri- ca’s demonstrated ability to undertake them. Third, the military capabilities that a state chooses to deploy are in large part the result of the state’s toler- ance for escalation: South Africa’s investments in conventional weaponry w ere the result of a desire to engage in increased aggression rather than a cause of it. And in the South African case, it is clear that at the point at which the South Africans wished to escalate, they provided their forces with the required military capabilities to do so. Col o nel Breytenbach confirms that the government was willing to provide “equipment that would allow you to go further in” when it wanted to do so.178 And, indeed, it was not simply the case that the war escalated in 1979 for reasons that were unrelated to 109 chapter 3 South African actions. The conflict escalated in 1979 because South Africa chose to escalate it. In short, South Africa took actions a fter 1979 that it knew would escalate the conflict and that it had not been willing to undertake be- fore it acquired nuclear weapons. Thus, although the theory of nuclear opportunism does not perform per- fectly in the South African case, none of the alternative explanations do bet- ter in explaining the ways in which South African foreign policy changed after South Africa acquired nuclear weapons. The Abandonment of South Africa’s Nuclear Weapons Although South Africa’s aggression continued well after it acquired nuclear weapons, the war in Angola ultimately came to an end with the withdrawal of Cuban and Soviet forces from the region. At this point, in the late 1980s, South Africa made the decision to abandon its nuclear weapons, first freezing and then dismantling its nuclear program. In d oing so, South Africa became the first and, thus far, only state to give up indigenously produced nuclear weap- ons. Does this not count against the theory of nuclear opportunism, demon- strating the lack of utility that nuclear weapons offered to South Africa? In fact, the reasons underpinning South Africa’s nuclear abandonment re- inforce rather than undermine the theory of nuclear opportunism. In the late 1980s, South Africa’s security environment improved markedly. Cuban forces had left Angola, and the Soviet Union was in the pro cess of abandon- ing its global ambitions. Thus, the primary f actor that had motivated South African nuclear acquisition and engendered the par ticu lar pol itic al benefits that South Africa acquired from possessing nuclear weapons— the threats it faced—h ad dissipated. In this more permissive international environment, South African elites concluded that the benefits of nuclear weapons no lon- ger outweighed the costs. Reform-m inded South African elites recognized that persuading the international community to remove the crippling eco- nomic and pol itic al sanctions that South Africa faced would require prog ress both on domestic pol itic al reform and on nonproliferation: joining the Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT) as a nonnuclear weap- ons state. As F. W. de Klerk was coming into office as president, Waldo Stumpf recalls a meeting in which de Klerk stated that “in my term of of- fice, I’m g oing to take South Africa back to being a respected international member of the community. And that means two t hings, it means w e’re going to unban Mr. Mandela [and] dismantle the apartheid policy, and we’re going to accede to the NPT.”179 South Africa acceded to the NPT in 1991 and dis- closed the existence of its nuclear program in 1993. As discussed in chapter 1, the theory of nuclear opportunism emphasizes the benefits of nuclear weapons but does not make any claims about the cir- cumstances in which those benefits will outweigh the costs of possessing 110 apartheId and aggressIon them. In the case of South Africa, it is clear that in a less restrictive security environment, the benefits of nuclear weapons no longer outweighed the costs of the program: in the words of Peter Liberman, “Pretoria’s sensitivity to the economic and diplomatic liabilities of the program” grew over the 1980s.180 Second, from the perspective of the theory of nuclear opportunism it is unsurprising that states would reevaluate the value of their nuclear pro- grams at the point at which the key variable determining the foreign policy benefits they acquire from nuclear weapons changes. In South Africa’s case, the severe threats the regime faced had motivated nuclear acquisition and determined the ways in which South Africa used nuclear weapons to facili- tate aggression in Angola, but t hose threats had disa ppeared, opening up the pol itic al space for a fundamental reevaluation of South Africa’s nuclear policy. In the words of André Buys, when F. W. de Klerk terminated the nu- clear weapons program, “I was very happy. Some of my friends said, ‘ Shouldn’t we have kept them?’ but I said, ‘We’ve had the strategy all along— it was threat based, and the threat has dis appeared.’ ”181 The evidence, therefore, suggests that nuclear acquisition did affect South African foreign policy, even if apartheid-e ra po liti cal and military elites are often reluctant to acknowledge it. South African aggression in the Border War increased in the aftermath of acquiring nuclear weapons, with South Africa becoming more willing to undertake military operations deep inside Angolan territory than it had previously been willing to do. The fears of pro- voking escalation that had previously constrained South Africa became less binding after the acquisition of nuclear weapons. This effect is consistent with South African elite thinking: South African elites wanted to engage in greater aggression in Angola but w ere deeply worried about triggering escalation, and viewed nuclear weapons as a way of reducing the risk of such escalation occurring. Even if South African elites are disinclined to state explic itly that nuclear weapons facilitated South Af- rican aggression, the evidence supports that conclusion. That South Africa would respond to nuclear acquisition in this way is consistent with the the- ory of nuclear opportunism but inconsistent with other explanations. South Africa did not use nuclear weapons to facilitate the other poss ib le be- hav iors: steadfastness, expansion, bolstering, compromise, or ind ep end ence. This is largely, though not fully, consistent with the expectations of the theory of nuclear opportunism, which would have anticipated South Africa using nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness in addition to aggression. None- theless, the theory of nuclear opportunism performs better than other expla- nations, such as the theory of the nuclear revolution or S. Paul Kapur’s theory of emboldenment, neither of which expects to see South Africa using nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. As with the British case, the theory of nuclear opportunism outperforms the alternative explanations as an explanation for how states use nuclear weapons to achieve their goals in international politics. 111 chapter 4 The Foundations of a New World Order The United States and the Start of the Nuclear Era During World War II, in the deserts of New Mexico, US and allied scientists sought to create a new kind of weapon that could single-h andedly win the war. They succeeded in creating the most powerf ul explosives known to humankind. Having used nuclear weapons to compel Japan ese surrender, the United States sat atop a new international order. Nuclear weapons would powerfully shape the way in which US elites envisaged, built, and sustained the postwar order, and they continue to profoundly affect US for- eign policy and grand strategy. The theory of nuclear opportunism anticipates that during World War II, the United States’ pol itic al priority would have been to improve the US po- sition against its enemies, and that the United States would use nuclear weapons to escalate and seek to end the war against Japan. In the aftermath of World War II, the theory anticipates that the United States would use nu- clear weapons to engage in expansion—t he widening of the United States’ interests— and bolstering of allies as a result of the favorable geopo litic al en- vironment in which the United States found itself. Although the theory of nuclear opportunism does not perform perfectly, I argue that the theory nonetheless sheds significant light on the US case. The case of the United States is useful for testing the theory of nuclear op- portunism. First, the variables that the theory identifies as conditioning the effects of nuclear acquisition themselves changed dramatically at the end of World War II. As a result, the US case offers extra leverage in testing the the- ory of nuclear opportunism because the theory suggests that nuclear weap- ons should affect US foreign policy in diff ere nt ways before and after the end of World War II. The US case offers an extra set of expectations with which to assess the perf orm ance of the theory: it is, in essence, two cases. Second, this means that it offers a hard case for the theory, b ecause it is one in which a state may have acquired nuclear weapons for a par tic u lar purpose during the war but then faced incentives (if the theory is correct) to use them for a 112 the foundatIons of a new world order very diff er ent set of purposes after the end of the war. If US policymakers changed the way they thought about the utility of nuclear weapons at the end of the war in the way the theory of nuclear opportunism suggests, that would provide particularly good evidence for the theory. Third, the US case is in many ways an outlier and unusual relative to subsequent cases of pro- liferation. The United States was the first state to acquire nuclear weapons, meaning that US policymakers lacked well-e stablished understandings of the ways in which nuclear weapons could be used or experiences of the ways in which other countries had thought about the utility of nuclear weapons. More broadly, the United States acquired nuclear weapons u nder historically unusual circumstances—at the conclusion of a brutal world war that trans- formed international politics. Similarly, the United States acquired nuclear weapons at a point at which it occupied a highly unusual position in the in- ternational system as the most powerf ul state in the world by some dis- tance. Thus, if the theory sheds light on the US case, in addition to cases in which states acquired nuclear weapons under more historically normal cir- cumstances, that would offer significant validation of the theory. Nonetheless, the US case also pres ents two import ant challenges b ecause the international system saw dramatic changes with the end of World War II. First, b ecause the geopo litic al circumstances of the United States changed dramatically, there are reasons to think that US foreign policy would have changed in import ant ways during this time even if the United States had not acquired nuclear weapons. This means that identifying the effects of nuclear acquisition is somewhat harder, and a s imple before- and- after comparison of US beh avi or is likely to be less convincingly attributable to the effect of nu- clear acquisition than in other cases where few other factors change si mult a- neously with nuclear acquisition. This concern does not invalidate the research design, but it demands that we pay par tic ul ar attention to the mechanisms through which nuclear weapons affected US foreign policy, the way in which leaders thought about US nuclear weapons, and the relevant counterfactuals (that is, how the United States would have behaved in the absence of nuclear weapons) in the period a fter US nuclear acquisition. The availability of a rich array of documentary evidence and a vast historical lit- er a ture on US foreign policy during this period means that this is feasible. Second, in a contested and fast-c hanging international system, distinguish- ing between several of the beh avi ors in the typology is difficult. For exam- ple, establishing the nature of the status quo— necessary to distinguish be- tween aggression and steadfastness—is extremely difficult in a situation of flux in which a range of po litic al actors were seeking to define exactly what the status quo was (or should be). Similarly, defining the nature of the United States’ preexisting interests— key to distinguishing between expansion and aggression—is extremely challenging, b ecause of the vast changes in the inter- national system that w ere occurring.1 As a result, I focus less on categorizing be hav iors that could plausibly be interpreted in diff er ent ways and instead 113 chapter 4 show the ways in which nuclear weapons affected t hese beh avi ors, regard- less of how one labels them. In this way, the US case offers a less clean test of the theory than other cases, but nonetheless allows for a rich description of the ways in which nuclear weapons influenced the foreign policies of the United States. When Did the United States Acquire Nuclear Weapons? To look for changes in US foreign policy caused by nuclear weapons, we first need to know when to look. When did the United States acquire the rele- vant capabilities? As discussed in chapter 1, this requires that we pay atten- tion to the ways that the United States intended to use nuclear weapons, and the part ic u lar technological and military capabilities that such uses require. This enables us to accurately identify the appropriate point in time at which to look for changes in foreign policy. In the case of the United States, this is s imple. The purpose of the Man- hattan Proj ect was to produce a usable weapon that could have an impor- tant impact on the outcome of the war and to deliver it by air to the cities of Germany or Japan. It is not surprising that US military elites found the idea of nuclear weapons attractive. The use of conventional strategic bombing— and of area bombing of cities and civilians, rather than targeting exclusively military assets— had grown in importance as the war progressed. By the time strategic bombing began in Japan, it was seen by US policymakers as a vital part of the overall US effort to force Japan ese surrender.2 The promise of nuclear weapons played into this broader enthusiasm for strategic bomb- ing.3 For President Franklin Roos ev elt and his head of military research and development, Vannevar Bush, nuclear weapons offered primarily offensive advantages, and t here was little question that the bomb would be used against Amer i ca’s enemies.4 In 1944, Churchill and Roos ev elt had agreed that the bomb could “be used against the Japan ese, who should be warned that this bombardment will be repeated until they surrender.”5 The Interim Commit- tee, set up to advise Secretary of War Henry Stimson and the president on the use of the atomic bomb, recommended that “the bomb be used against Japan as soon as poss i ble” and “without prior warning.”6 Given that the United States already had aircraft capable of reaching Japan and Germany, all that was needed was a nuclear explosive that could be dropped out of them. Rehearsals for the use of the gun-t ype “L ittle Boy” bomb that would be used on Hiroshima w ere completed by the end of July 1945.7 The twenty kiloton Trinity test of July 16, 1945, demonstrated to US military and pol itic al leaders that the “Fat Man” implosion device that would be used on Nagasaki would also work successfully.8 It is therefore in late July 1945 that we should expect that nuclear weapons would have be- gun to affect US strategic calculations. 114 the foundatIons of a new world order The United States’ Strategic Environment What does the theory of nuclear opportunism expect to see in the US case? As described in chapter 1, the first factor to examine is whether the United States faced serious territorial threats or was involved in a war that required the dedication of significant national resources. When the United States ac- quired a deliverable nuclear capability in 1945 it was in the midst of World War II. The United States did not face ongoing fighting on its own territory (although it had, of course, suffered the 1941 attack on its territory at Pearl Harbor), and by this point US victory in the Pacific was virtually inevitable (though the timing and manner of that victory w ere not) and victory in Eu- rope had been achieved. Nonetheless, World War II represented a brutal war that had demanded the expenditure of significant American blood and trea- sure, and the United States was prepared to pay considerable further costs to achieve a complete victory should an invasion of Japan prove necessary. B ecause the United States was involved in an ongoing war, the other vari- ables in the decision tree do not come into play. Under such conditions, the theory anticipates that the United States’ pol iti cal priority would be to im- prove its position against its enemies, and predicts that the United States would use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression and steadfastness. Fig- ure 4.1 shows the application of the theory to the US case in the summer of 1945. The theory also expects that the same logic would be reflected in elite thinking about nuclear weapons. American elites should have viewed nu- clear weapons as a tool with which to improve their position against their opponents in World War II, and should have planned to use them for this purpose within the conflict. Last, the theory anticipates that b ecause of the war the United States was engaging in, and the pol iti cal priority that the United States would accord to improving its position in the war and against its enemies, the other beh avi ors would be less po liti cally appealing. As a re- sult, the theory predicts that the United States would not seek to use its nuclear weapons to facilitate the remaining be hav iors in the typology: ex- pansion, in de pen dence, bolstering, or compromise. With the end of World War II, however, the circumstances facing the United States changed dramatically. The geopol itic al situation transformed from one in which the United States was involved in a brutal and all-o ut war to one in which the United States was by far the most powerf ul state in the world and faced no serious threats. B ecause several of the factors identified as import ant by the theory of nuclear opportunism changed with the end of World War II, the theory predicts that the United States would use nuclear weapons differently in the aftermath of World War II than during the war. Mea suri ng the first f actor—t he presence of serious territorial threats or an ongoing war—is straightforward. With the passing of World War II, the United States was no longer involved in a war and faced no serious threats 115 chapter 4 State faces serious 1. territorial threat/ Yes Aggression & steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No 2. State has senior Yesally? Independence No from senior ally 3. State is rising Yes Expansion, in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies No Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness towards rivals Figure 4.1. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to the United States, wart ime to its territory. US elites w ere certainly suspicious of the intentions of the So- viet Union, but the Soviet Union had been decimated by war, was thou- sands of miles away, and had no capacity to proj ect power against the US homeland. The United States thus emerged from World War II in an extra- ordinarily secure position: a hegemon in the Western Hemis phere and a state whose potential peer competitors either w ere under occupation or had been ravaged by the most destructive war in h uman history. The United States thus faced no serious threats of the kind described by the first variable. Because the United States did not face threats of this sort, the second and third factors come into play in determining the expectations of the theory of nuclear opportunism. Meas ur ing the second f actor— whether the United States had a se nior ally committed to its protection—is also straightforward. Because the United States was now by some distance the most power ful state in the world, it could not have a se nior ally by definition. The third factor is whether the United States was increasing in relative power. Here, too, the cod- ing is clear. The United States was unique among the great powers in becom- ing richer, stronger, and more power ful during World War II. By the end of the war, the United States had a higher standard of living and per capita produc- 116 the foundatIons of a new world order tivity than any other country in the world, its gross domestic product (GDP) had risen by two-t hirds, it controlled nearly two-t hirds of the world’s gold re- serves, and it possessed the world’s most potent military and power projec- tion capabilities.9 US gross national product (GNP) at the end of the war was three times that of the Soviet Union and five times that of the United King- dom.10 Fin ally, the United States ended World War II holding a historically unusual concentration of military power. In the historian Melvyn Leffler’s words, the United States’ “strategic air force was unrivaled. Its navy domi- nated the seas. Its aircraft carriers and marine divisions enabled it to proj ect its power across the oceans. . . . The United States had preponderent power.”11 The claim that the United States was rising in relative power at the end of World War II is confirmed by the Correlates of War’s CINC scores, which pro- vide a mea sure of a state’s share of global power. The United States’ CINC score rose every year from 1937 until 1946. Thus, as World War II came to an end, US relative power was on an upward trajectory. Figure 4.2 shows the ap- plication of the theory to the United States in the aftermath of World War II. As a result of this uniquely favorable geopol iti cal environment, the t heory predicts that the United States’ pol iti cal priority should have been State faces serious Aggression & 1. territorial threat/ Yes steadfastness ongoing war? towards threat No State has senior Yes 2. ally? Independence No from senior ally 3. State is rising Yes Expansion, in power? steadfastness, & bolstering of junior allies No Bolstering of junior allies & steadfastness towards rivals Figure 4.2. The theory of nuclear opportunism applied to the United States, postwar 117 chapter 4 to expand its influence in international politics—f orming new alliances, ini- tiating new adversarial relationships, and developing a greater ability to proj ect power and influence—a nd that the United States should have used its nuclear weapons to facilitate these be hav iors. States that are rising in power and in a secure environment do not face tight resource constraints, and the favorable geopol itic al environment in which they find themselves affords them the latitude to expand their influence in international politics. The theory therefore predicts that in the aftermath of World War II, the United States would use its nuclear weapons to facilitate expansion, to bol- ster existing allies, and to stand more firmly in the face of any challenges. Additionally, the theory predicts that US elites would view nuclear weapons as useful in facilitating these be havi ors. Because of the favorable geopol itic al circumstances that the United States faced, the theory anticipates that the United States would not seek to use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression, ind ep end ence, or compromise. The theory anticipates that using nuclear weapons to engage in ind e pend ence would be unnecessary because the United States possessed no allies with the ability to constrain its beh avi or. The uniquely favorable position in which it found itself meant that the United States was already able to set an in de- pen dent course in foreign policy, regardless of nuclear weapons. Similarly, states that are both rising in power and facing few threats have less need to engage in aggression. As discussed in chapter 1, rising states can afford to be patient in dealing with any threats that they face, because their permis- sive security environment affords them the latitude to do so. Using nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise is also unattractive because states in this position have the wind at their back: they have l ittle reason and feel l ittle pressure to engage in compromise. The United States during World War II How did nuclear weapons affect US foreign policy during World War II? The United States used nuclear weapons to escalate the war vis- à-v is Japan but used them to pursue preexisting goals— the defeat and surrender of Japan. The United States would likely have used nuclear weapons for similar pur- poses against Germany had the bomb been ready prior to German surren- der. Although the extreme circumstances in which the United States acquired nuclear weapons make categorizing this beh av ior somewhat tricky, within the typology of beh av iors I argue that it is best thought of as aggression. Ag- gression includes the escalation of a conflict through the introduction of new weapons or technologies, and the use of nuclear weapons for the first time in armed conflict represented an escalation of this sort. US policymak- ers understood the use of nuclear weapons in t hese terms. However, t here are also ways in which the acquisition of nuclear weapons facilitated com- 118 the foundatIons of a new world order promise. Nuclear weapons allowed the United States to avoid a long and bloody invasion of Japan that would likely have ended with l ittle US incli- nation to compromise on any aspects of the terms of Japa nese surrender, in- cluding the retention of the emperor. Nuclear weapons also facilitated US in dep en dence from the Soviet Union by obviating the need for Soviet assis- tance in a potential invasion of Japan. aggression On one level, it seems obvious that the United States used nuclear weap- ons to facilitate aggression during World War II: after all, the attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki continue to represent the only instances of direct use of nuclear weapons against an enemy. However, at the point of nuclear acquisition, the United States was already making maximal demands for an unconditional Japa nese surrender, was engaged in a total and brutal war against Japa nese forces in the Pacific, was tightening the blockade of the Japa nese home islands, and was engaging in a systematic effort to destroy Japan’s cities from the air. The extreme circumstances in which the United States acquired nuclear weapons make categorizing US nuclear use against Japan within the typology somewhat tricky. After all, given the way in which the United States was waging the war in the Pacific during the summer of 1945, did nuclear weapons really make the United States more belligerent in pursuing the defeat and surrender of Japan? Ultimately, however, the use of nuclear weapons is best seen as an exam- ple of aggression. This is not because the United States was unable to defeat Japan without nuclear weapons. As Schelling argues, “With a combination of bombing and blockade, eventually invasion, and if necessary the deliber- ate spread of disease, the United States could proba bly have exterminated the population of the Japan ese islands without nuclear weapons. . . . It would not have strained our Gross National Product to do it with ice picks.”12 How- ever, as discussed in chapter 1, aggression can include the escalation of a conflict through the use of new tactics, forces, military doctrines, or technol- ogies. The use of nuclear weapons against Hiroshima and Nagasaki meets this definition b ecause it crossed an impor tant technological focal point from the perspective of the United States, meeting Richard Smoke’s definition of escalation as “a step of any size that crosses a saliency.”13 While the pol itic al goals that the United States was pursuing— the complete defeat of Japan— did not change with nuclear acquisition, nuclear weapons allowed the United States to introduce a significant new military technology that radi- cally increased the efficiency with which the United States could destroy Japan ese targets. The United States’ Strategic Bombing Survey, conducted in the aftermath of the attacks, estimated that the single most effective night of conventional bombing—a gainst Tokyo on March 9, 1945—k illed 83,600 people using 279 planes and 1,667 bombs, while the attack on Hiroshima 119 chapter 4 killed a comparable number using a single plane and a single bomb.14 Cru- cially, nuclear weapons offered a plausible path to Japan ese surrender with- out first having to engage in a brutal effort to conquer Japan ese territory: what Truman feared would be “an Okinawa from one end of Japan to the other.”15 While the incendiary bombing of Japa nese cities was nothing new, the explosive power of the nuclear attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was still three to four times greater than that which could be delivered in a con- ventional strategic bombing raid, and, of course, such a conventional attack required hundreds of bombers instead of the single bomber required for each of the nuclear attacks. The Strategic Bombing Survey concluded that “the survivors were not aware at the time that a radically new bomb had been used. . . . Even the Gov- ernment had no conception, u ntil President Truman’s announcement was broadcast, of the new princi ple of operation.”16 While it is reasonable to ques- tion w hether the Japan ese recognized the nuclear attacks to be dramatically diff er ent in scope from the attacks they had already experienced during the spring and summer of 1945, it is clear that from the perspective of the United States, nuclear weapons offered a sea change in destructive efficiency.17 “From the U.S. perspective,” Ward Wilson argues, “the atomic bomb was clearly dif- fer ent.”18 The United States had dedicated some $2 billion and enormous human capital to developing nuclear weapons, and US policymakers spoke about the weapon in terms that suggest they did not simply view nuclear weapons as a marginal improvement on existing capabilities.19 In briefing the newly inaugurated Harry Truman, for example, f uture secretary of state James Byrnes spoke “in quiet tones which did not disguise his feeling of awe, that the explosive emerging from American laboratories and plants might be power ful enough to destroy the world.”20 Secretary of War Stimson believed that the Manhattan Proje ct “should not be considered simply in terms of mili- tary weapons, but as a new relationship of man to the universe. . . . W hile the advances in the field [of military technology] to date had been fostered in the needs of war, it was import ant to realize that the implications of the proje ct went far beyond the needs of the pre sent war.”21 Truman, announcing the use of nuclear weapons, spoke in terms that indicated he considered nuclear weapons to be fundamentally diff er ent from preexisting forms of warfare, stating, “It is a harnessing of the basic power of the universe. The force from which the sun draws its power has been loosed against t hose who brought war to the Far East.”22 Although t here were always voices that sought to “nor- malize” nuclear weapons, in general, US officials recognized that nuclear weapons were special and that using them would represent an import ant es- calation of the conflict. As the director of the Bureau of the Bud get and future under secretary of state James Webb would write in a memo to President Tru- man, “The atomic bomb is no ordinary piece of ordnance.”23 It is true that unlike in the South African case, the United States used nu- clear weapons directly rather than using them to facilitate greater conven- 120 the foundatIons of a new world order tional military aggression. But both beh avi ors represented—in dif fer ent ways— escalation of the conflicts each state was undertaking, and both fall u nder the category of aggression. Using nuclear weapons in this way was consistent with the thinking of US officials since the beginning of the Manhattan Proj ect. Given the brutal- ity of the war and the po litic al importance of achieving a rapid US victory, t here was little doubt that the United States would choose to use nuclear weapons once it had them in its possession.24 Secretary of War Stimson stated a fter the war that “at no time, from 1941 to 1945, did I ever hear it suggested by the President or any other responsible member of the government that atomic energy should not be used in the war. . . . W e w ere at war, and the work [of the Manhattan Proj ect] must be done. . . . It was the common ob- jective throughout the war to be the first to develop an atomic weapon and to use it.”25 Se nior US policymakers, in Martin Sherwin’s account, “asked w hether it would be ready in time, not whether it should be used if it was.”26 Similarly, General Leslie Groves, who oversaw the Manhattan Proje ct, and had initially been skeptical of the war- winning potential of nuclear weap- ons, wrote after the war that the Manhattan Proje ct and potential use of nu- clear weapons w ere subject to “basic military considerations. . . . If we were successful in time, we would shorten the war and thus save tens of thou- sands of American casualties.”27 Neither did the British government pres ent any obstacles or question the wisdom of using nuclear weapons against the Japa nese.28 Three days after the bombing of Hiroshima, Truman declared that the logic of nuclear use was straightforward: “Having found the bomb we used it.”29 Indeed, it was the assumption that nuclear weapons would be used, and the belief that using them might be decisive in the war effort, that led to the dedication of such imm ense resources to the Manhattan Proj ect. In Stimson’s words, “The entire purpose was the production of a military weapon; on no other ground could the war time expenditure of so much time and money have been justified.”30 The Manhattan Proj ect was accorded the highest pri- ority as a result, and the rush to produce a working device was consider- able. As President Roo sev elt stated, “I think the whole t hing should be pushed not only in regard to development, but also with due regard to time. This is very much of the essence.”31 And James Conant, the chairman of the National Defense Research Committee, argued that “if the possession of the new weapon in sufficient quantities would be a determining factor in the war,” then “three months’ delay might be fatal.”32 General Groves’s in- struction from Stimson was to produce a bomb “at the earliest pos sib le date so as to bring the war to a conclusion.”33 The United States, therefore, built nuclear weapons with the full intention of using them and aware of the fact that to do so would cross an impor tant threshold in destructive efficiency. The intended target of Amer i ca’s nuclear weapons was both the Japa nese and the Germans. T here were several reasons that the United States planned 121 chapter 4 to target Japan with its first atomic attack, including the fact that German scientists would be better able to accurately analyze a “dud” explosion if it occurred and the initial absence of B-29 bombers in Eur ope.34 Nonetheless, Groves reported that “President Roo sev elt asked if we were prepared to drop bombs on Germany if it was necessary to do so and we replied that we would be prepared to do so.”35 Coming into the presidency a fter Roos ev elt’s death in April 1945, Truman did not challenge the assumption that the bomb would be used. Within four months of coming into office, and a week a fter the suc- cessful Trinity test in New Mexico on July 16, 1945, Truman authorized the dropping of nuclear weapons on Japa nese cities as soon as the weapons were ready. The purpose of doing so was clear: to escalate— and end—t he war. As Truman wrote, the Japan ese “ will fold up before Russ ia comes in. I am sure they will when Manhattan appears over their homeland.”36 Although Truman would l ater claim to have had no doubts about his decision to use nuclear weapons, t here was at least some ambivalence about the course of action he had authorized. As he wrote in his diary, “It seems to be the most terrible t hing ever discovered, but it can be made the most useful.”37 In short, not only did the United States use nuclear weapons in the way the theory anticipates, but it had thought about using nuclear weapons in that way since the start of the Manhattan Proj ect. Overall, the United States’ use of nuclear weapons against Hiroshima and Nagasaki comes u nder the category of aggression. While the United States was already making maximal demands of Japan and engaged in a brutal war against its forces in the Pacific and its cities from the air, the use of nuclear weapons nonetheless represented (and was seen at the time to represent) an import ant escalatory step that could potentially prove decisive in ending the war. compromise Nuclear weapons may have allowed the United States to engage in com- promise, defined as accepting less in ongoing disputes. Ultimately, the United States backed down somewhat from the demands articulated at the Potsdam conference for a completely unconditional Japan ese surrender, and made modest concessions to the Japan ese regarding the status of the emperor.38 In some ways, nuclear weapons hardened the resolve of US pol- icymakers and made them less inclined to compromise. For example, at the meeting discussing the initial Japan ese offer of surrender (on terms much more favorable to Japan than t hose the Japa nese ultimately accepted), the secretary of state asked why the United States should “go further [in offer- ing concessions] than we were willing to go at Potsdam when we had no atomic bomb, and Rus sia was not in the war.”39 And as US negotiations over the terms of Japa nese surrender were ongoing, the US military was preparing for a third atomic strike against Tokyo in late August on the as- 122 the foundatIons of a new world order sumption that further nuclear attacks would allow the United States to drive a harder bargain rather than facilitate US compromises. On the other hand, nuclear weapons offered the United States a tool with which it could potentially achieve Japan ese surrender without fighting a bloody invasion of Japan, and do so without the assistance of the Soviet Union. This may have made the United States more willing to accept limited compromises on the status of the emperor in order to avoid US casualties and wrap up the conflict sufficiently quickly to keep the Soviet Union out of the postwar occupation. Before nuclear acquisition, the United States had anticipated requiring Soviet assistance to invade and defeat Japan. It is hard to imagine that having fought a bloody and costly invasion of the Japan ese mainland, the United States would have accepted anything other than a com- pletely unconditional surrender. Once they had acquired nuclear weapons, however, US policymakers sought to end the war before the Soviet Union could invade Japan, and thus reduce Soviet influence over the postwar set- tlement (as I discuss further below). US policymakers w ere therefore pre- pared to accept the modest compromises on the status of the emperor nec- essary to quickly secure Japan ese agreement to the terms of surrender.40 In this limited but nonetheless import ant way, US nuclear weapons facilitated US compromise. in dep end ence Similarly, t here are also ways in which nuclear weapons facilitated US ind e pend ence—d efined as taking actions that allies oppose or do not sup- port. As discussed, before nuclear acquisition, the United States had antici- pated requiring (or at least desiring) the assistance of the Soviet Union to invade and defeat Japan, and at Yalta, Roo sev elt had obtained a Soviet pledge to enter the war against Japan once the war in Eur ope was termi- nated. The price of Soviet assistance, of course, was that the Soviet Union would receive a more favorable postwar settlement in the Pacific across a range of issues and territories. Roos e velt had agreed that if the Soviets would enter the war against Japan, the United States would allow them to annex southern Sakhalin and the Kuriles, establish a naval base at Port Ar- thur, and recover Russ ia’s pre-1904 rights in Manchuria, including its “pre- eminent interests” in the region’s railroads and the port of Dairen. While many US policymakers had misgivings about the Yalta agreement, they were disinclined to abandon the agreement while Soviet support might still be needed in Asia. Until US nuclear weapons had demonstrated their util- ity, US officials believed it would be foolish to eschew assistance from the Soviet Union that might still be required to ensure Japan ese defeat.41 US nuclear weapons obviated this dependence on the Soviet Union by of- fering a path to Japan ese surrender that would not require Soviet assis- tance. Truman believed that the Soviets “needed us more than we needed 123 chapter 4 them,” that “our new weapons” meant that Soviet participation in the Pa- cific war was no longer needed to conquer Japan, and that the United States should no longer feel bound by the Yalta agreement. As Secretary of War Stimson argued, “They c an’t get along without our help and industries and we have coming into action a weapon which will be unique.”42 Instead, the United States used its nuclear weapons to end the war before the Soviet Union could invade Japan, enabling the United States to govern Japan alone in the aftermath of the war. Indeed, the Soviet Union had recognized in the aftermath of the Hiroshima bombing that it would have to accelerate its in- tervention into the war in case the atomic bomb prompted an immediate sur- render, launching an attack on Japan ese forces in Manchuria.43 It is true that the Soviet Union had supported the US use of nuclear weapons: Stalin had told Truman at Potsdam that he hoped the United States would make “good use” of nuclear weapons against Japan.44 Nonetheless, the Soviet Union was dissatisfied with the way in which the war in the Pacific ended and the na- ture of the postwar settlement. Even a fter the United States had announced Japan’s surrender, the Soviet Union continued fighting Japa nese forces in Sakhalin with the intention of occupying Hokkaido, before ultimately back- ing off after a “firm” response from President Truman on August 18.45 Over- all, therefore, it seems fair to conclude that US nuclear weapons reduced US dependence on the Soviet Union in the Pacific, and thus that the United States used nuclear weapons to facilitate in de pend ence. expansion The United States did not use its nuclear weapons to engage in expansion during the war, defined in chapter 1 as the widening of a state’s interests. The United States’ goals in using nuclear weapons against Japan w ere the same as they had previously been during the war: to destroy Japa nese cities, demoralize the Japan ese population, and achieve victory and Japa nese sur- render on favorable terms and with the loss of as few American lives as pos- sib le. Nuclear weapons were perceived to offer a higher likelihood of achiev- ing t hese ends than continued conventional bombing, but the goals remained constant. It might be argued that the United States used its nuclear weapons against Japan to intimidate the Soviet Union and thus lay the groundwork for more expansive postwar ambitions. While most scholars agree that Tru- man did not choose to use US nuclear weapons against Japan in order to intimidate the Soviet Union, “he was fully conscious of its diplomatic rami- fications and e ager to reap its anticipated benefits.”46 However, such effects were secondary to the primary intended outcome of forcing Japa nese sur- render. More importantly, such aims w ere prospective— they sought to in- fluence how the postwar world would operate. As a result, such a claim would support the argument I make below that the United States used its nuclear weapons to engage in expansion in the aftermath of World War II. 124 the foundatIons of a new world order bolstering The United States did not use its nuclear weapons to bolster allies during the war— defined as taking actions to strengthen an existing alliance or alli- ance partner. While President Roos e velt had agreed with Churchill that the United States would consult with the British before using its nuclear weap- ons, this was not an effort to strengthen the British position but merely an acknowle dgment of their shared investment in the Manhattan Proje ct and the fact that both leaders agreed that nuclear weapons should be used (mean- ing that such an agreement would not in fact constrain the United States). The United States had no intention of providing Britain (and certainly not other allies) with nuclear weapons or otherw ise using nuclear weapons to strengthen the British position during the war. steadfastness Fin ally, there is little evidence that the United States used nuclear weap- ons to facilitate steadfastness— defined as standing more firmly in defense of the status quo. Instead, US officials viewed nuclear weapons as a weapon that offered offensive opportunities, and intended to use them in this way during the war.47 The theory of nuclear opportunism thus incorrectly pre- dicts the United States would use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfast- ness in addition to aggression. This counts as a strike against the theory. However, given the circumstances in which the United States acquired nu- clear weapons, it is not necessarily surprising that the US response to nu- clear acquisition would be overwhelmingly characterized by aggression rather than steadfastness. B ecause the United States was on the offensive in the war when it acquired nuclear weapons, it was simply not required to defend the status quo. Instead, when it acquired nuclear weapons, the United States was engaged in a more or less constant effort to revise the status quo and achieve victory in the war. The lack of challenges to the US position makes assessing any change in the level of steadfastness difficult, but it is clear that US officials saw nuclear weapons as offering primarily offensive rather than defensive advantages. This goes against the expectations of the theory of nuclear opportunism. The United States a fter World War II Assessing the role that nuclear weapons played in US foreign policy in the aftermath of World War II is a complicated task. The sheer breadth of US foreign policy activity, the unstable and changing nature of international pol- itics in the postwar period, and the contradictory and complex ways in which the United States acted in the aftermath of World War II make isolating the 125 chapter 4 effect of any single f actor on US foreign policy challenging. This is particu- larly true with re spect to nuclear weapons, a technology that had only just been inv en ted and the implications of which w ere not well understood by US policymakers. In addition, the vast historiographical debate surrounding the origins of the Cold War and the many plausible historical interpreta- tions of part ic u lar events in the early Cold War mean that any conclusions drawn from this case are necessarily tentative. Nonetheless, the theory of nuclear opportunism makes clear predictions about the be hav iors that should be expected, and it is reasonable to assess whether they seem to be realized in the historical rec ord. The theory of nuclear opportunism predicts that the United States—a he- gemon in the Western Hemi sphere and a state whose potential peer com- petitors w ere all e ither defeated and under occupation or ravaged by the ef- fects of the most destructive war in human history— should have used nuclear weapons to bolster its ju nior allies and to expand its interests in in- ternational politics. Consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism, I ar- gue that t here is good evidence that the United States did use nuclear weapons to bolster its allies, expand its interests, and respond steadfastly to challenges. However, the United States also used nuclear weapons to engage in foreign policy be havi ors that can be reasonably characterized as aggres- sion, against the expectations of the theory. The extent to which the United States expanded its interests, engaged in ag- gression, or merely defended the status quo in the aftermath of World War II has been the subject of a vast historiographical debate. During the 1960s and 1970s, disputes between “orthodox” and “revisionist” historians gen- erated considerable heat on the question of whether the United States or the Soviet Union was the more belligerent and expansionist power and thus pri- marily responsible for the onset of the Cold War.48 Over thirty years after John Lewis Gaddis claimed to identify a “post-r evisionist synthesis” that rec- ognized that the United States was neither the ideal form of the “Leninist model of imperialism” nor “naive and innocent” in its conduct of the Cold War, historical debates over US motivations and beh avi or in the immediate postwar period continue.49 This historiographical debate combines with (and perhaps results from) the extraordinarily complex and contested postwar international environ- ment to make analyzing the effect of nuclear weapons on postwar US for- eign policy challenging. In part ic u lar, distinguishing between several of the be hav iors identified in the typology is harder than in previous cases. For ex- ample, identifying the status quo is critical to distinguishing between aggres- sion and steadfastness. However, in the immediate postwar period, what con- stituted the status quo in the Soviet- US relationship was open to significant disagreement. Similarly, distinguishing between “preexisting” and “new” interests— crucial to distinguishing between expansion and aggression—in 126 the foundatIons of a new world order the context of an international environment characterized by extraordi- nary upheaval is extremely tricky. Instead of trying to categorize US foreign policy into the beh av iors in the typology, I examine four interconnected and crucially import ant aspects of US foreign policy in the immediate postwar period: the institutionalizing of an unpre ce dented global network of alliances, the United States’ installation of a worldwide peacetime network of overseas bases, US interactions with the Soviet Union, and the use of economic power for pol iti cal ends. In each case, I show the ambiguity of t hese be havi ors and the dif fer ent ways t hese be havi ors could be categorized. I do not seek to conclusively assign a label to each beh avi or. However, regardless of the label one assigns to each be- hav ior, I argue that each be hav ior was facilitated in impor tant ways by nu- clear weapons. The United States thus offers a less clean test of the theory than the other cases in which the international environment was more sta- ble and distinguishing between the beh av iors in the typology is easier. None- theless, the case reinforces the view of nuclear weapons implied by the theory of nuclear opportunism: as useful tools of pol itic al statecraft that can facilitate a range of foreign policy be hav iors. strengthening alliances and initiating new ones In the aftermath of World War II, the United States eschewed its tradi- tional skepticism of entangling alliances in favor of establishing a globe- spanning network of alliances. In this section, I show the impor tant role that nuclear weapons played in supporting and sustaining these alliances. This shift in US foreign policy is best seen as a combination of both bolstering and expansion. Many of the security treaties that the United States signed and alliances that the United States entered into in the aftermath of World War II were entirely new (such as that with Japan) and are perhaps better consid- ered as examples of expansion, which includes the initiation of new alliance relationships. However, many of the alliances that the United States entered into represented the formalization of existing and long- standing relation- ships (such as with the United Kingdom) and thus fall u nder the category of bolstering—t he strengthening or formalizing of existing allies or alliances. The motivation b ehind this shift in US foreign policy is much debated among historians and pol iti cal scientists. In one view, the United States aimed to build up its allies in Eu rope (and elsewhere) so that they could ul- timately take the lead in providing for their own defense. In this view, the United States’ commitment to Eur ope would be temporary, and the United States would ultimately seek to reduce its defense commitments over time and withdraw from Eu rope and Asia.50 For example, Mark Sheetz argues that “post- war [American] leaders engaged in strenuous efforts to avoid a permanent military involvement in Eu rope.”51 Similarly, Brendan Rittenh ouse 127 chapter 4 Green writes that “the United States aimed to establish an in de pend ent Eu- ro pean pole of power that could contain the Soviet Union with minimal U.S. aid.”52 In another view, however, US alliances had a more hegemonic, suppressive character and aimed to maintain the United States’ position in Eur ope ind efi nitely.53 For example, Christopher Layne argues that soon a fter World War II, the United States “intended to remain in Eu rope permanently, even if the threat of Soviet aggression disa ppeared.”54 Similarly, Francis Gavin notes that Washington’s alliances in the nuclear era “appear to be permanent [and] to persist regardless of threat.”55 Regardless of the ultimate motivations under lying US actions, however, in the aftermath of World War II, the United States entered into, and then formalized, a series of alliance commitments to prop up the economies and military capabilities of countries sympathetic to the United States. In 1949, the United States signed the North Atlantic Treaty with eleven countries (Bel- gium, Canada, Denmark, France, Iceland, Italy, Luxembourg, the Nether- lands, Norway, Portugal, and the United Kingdom). This was followed in 1951 by the ANZUS agreement with Australia and New Zealand and a bi- lateral security treaty between the United States and Japan, the expansion of NATO to Greece and Turkey in 1952, the Mutual Defense Treaty between the United States and South K orea in 1953, and the Sino-A merican Mutual Defense Treaty with Taiwan and the expansion of NATO to West Germany in 1955. Within ten years of the end of World War II, therefore, the United States had built a globe-s panning alliance network underpinned by US mil- itary power and a willingness to play an active role in the defense of each of its alliance partners. Secretary of State Acheson remarked that this amounted to “a complete revolution” in the foreign policy of a country that had tradi- tionally eschewed potentially entangling alliances.56 This alliance network was being built up, however, in the context of the demobilization of the US armed forces that occurred in the aftermath of World War II. Despite concerns expressed by military leaders about the dan- gers associated with too quickly degrading US military capabilities, Presi- dent Truman and other elected officials demanded a swift demobilization in response to power ful domestic pol itic al demands to bring US military forces home. US carriers w ere converted into g iant passenger ships to trans- port US ser vice personnel overseas back to the United States, and in Janu- ary 1946 thousands of US soldiers rioted in an effort to hasten their return to civilian life.57 US military personnel fell from over 12 million in 1945 to around 1.5 million in 1947, and military expenditure fell by around a f actor of six ( after adjusting for inflation) over the same period.58 Even after this fall in capabilities, US military personnel and expenditure w ere around five and thirteen times higher, respectively, than they had been in 1937, but sus- taining US alliances with a vastly reduced military force nonetheless pre- sented a critical challenge for US policymakers in the immediate aftermath of World War II. Even in West Germany, for example, the United States had 128 the foundatIons of a new world order only two divisions pre sent, and those forces were dispersed throughout the country in order to administer the occupation. The conventional balance was so precarious that Secretary of State George Marshall requested that the sec- retary of defense not make the details of the military balance public, to avoid demoralizing the Eur o pe ans b ecause “the picture which this pres ents is one of such hopelessness.”59 Nuclear weapons offered a solution to this quandary. Nuclear weapons allowed the United States to maintain, strengthen, and extend US alliance commitments while US conventional military capabilities declined. The role of nuclear weapons was most explicit in Western Eur ope, although the same logic was implicit elsewhere as well. The crucial role that nuclear weapons played in facilitating Ameri ca’s alliances in Eur ope had been recognized by US policymakers even in the immediate aftermath of World War II. In 1946, George Kennan wrote that “it is impor tant that this country be prepared to use them . . . for the mere fact of such preparedness may prove to be the only powerf ul deterrent to Rus sian aggressive action.”60 A 1947 CIA report argued that a key reason why the Soviet Union would not “resort to overt military aggression” despite its “overwhelming preponderance of power” was that “the USSR would be exposed to early long range air bombardment with con- ventional and atomic bombs.”61 A 1948 National Security Council (NSC) report stated that “if Western Eu rope is to enjoy any feeling of security at the pre sent time . . . i t is in large degree because the atomic bomb, under American trusteeship, offers the pres ent major counterbalance to the ever- present threat of the Soviet military power.”62 According to Secretary of De- fense James Forrestal, nuclear weapons w ere “the only balance we have against the overwhelming manpower of the Russ ians.”63 Such was the impact of nuclear weapons on US strategy in Eur ope that George Kennan ultimately worried that the United States was placing too much reliance on them. As he wrote in 1949, “We are so b ehind the Russ ians in conventional armaments, and the attraction of the atomic bomb to strate- gic planners has been such that we are in danger of finding our whole pol- icy tied to the atom bomb.”64 Nonetheless, the trend of increasing reliance on nuclear weapons continued. In 1950, NSC-68 made the reliance on nu- clear weapons to compensate for conventional military shortcomings ex- plicit, and embraced a policy of using nuclear weapons first in a conflict to make Ameri ca’s alliance commitments credible: “In our pres ent situation of relative unpreparedness in conventional weapons, such a declaration [of no first use] would be interpreted by the USSR as an admission of great weak- ness and by our allies as a clear indication that we intend to abandon them.”65 If US nuclear use was not credible, and a war in Eu rope had to be fought with conventional forces only, the consequences were simple: “an early So- viet conquest of Western Eu rope.”66 Similarly, once the Soviet Union had developed its own nuclear weapons, the same logic dictated the development of tactical nuclear weapons.67 In the 129 chapter 4 words of a memo to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, “Atomic weap- ons used tactically are the natur al armaments of the numerically inferior but technologically superior nations. They are the natur al answer to the armed hordes of the Soviet Union and its satellites.”68 Marc Trachtenberg summarizes the role nuclear weapons played in facilitating US alliance com- mitments to Eur ope in the absence of large conventional forces: nuclear weapons meant that “the United States did not have to maintain a massive military establishment, or deploy forces in western Eur ope capable of de- fending that area on the ground. The West could settle for a tripwire strat- egy. Very power ful, and very expensive, forces in being—in par tic u lar, ground forces in Europe— were not absolutely essential.”69 In Wilson Mis- camble’s words, by 1949 “American conventional forces were deemed capable of defending only the Western Hemis phere and the main Japan ese Islands and perhaps of retaining communication lines to some bridgeheads in G reat Britain, the Iberian Peninsula, and North Africa. The Americans depended on the deterrent quality of their atomic monop oly.”70 In short, nu- clear weapons w ere the only way that the United States could make credi- ble commitments to Europe—a nd beyond—w ithout the kind of conventional deployments that had quickly become pol itic ally unacceptable a fter World War II. US plans were certainly not ideal from the Eur o pean perspective: as a Newsweek article from 1948 claimed, “The temporary overrunning of Eu rope by the Red Army is taken for granted.”71 In the words of one 1948 assess- ment sent to the president, “If war should come within the next few years, this could result in the loss of the bulk of our ground forces in Eur ope, heavy casualties to the naval and air units employed in evacuation, capture of most, if not all, of our heavy equipment and all ground installations there, and the detention of American civilian personnel.”72 In short, US war plans w ere es- sentially that Eu rope would be lost in the event of a Soviet invasion, but that this would be followed by an inevitable and sustained US campaign of nuclear attacks.73 Even US war plans that dryly acknowledged that “atomic bombing will produce certain psychological and retaliatory reactions detri- mental to the achievement of Allied war objectives” nonetheless concluded that “the advantages of its early use would be transcending” and recom- mended the “prompt and effective delivery of the maximum numbers of atomic bombs.”74 Despite the grim nature of a potential Eur o pean conflict that US plans implied, a reliance on nuclear weapons was the only pol iti- cally feasible option for US policymakers. As Secretary of State Marshall ar- gued, “The country could not, and would not, support a bud get based on preparation for war,” and the United States was therefore unable “to build up U.S. ground forces for the express purpose of employing them in West- ern Eu rope.”75 Relying on nuclear weapons to sustain US alliance commit- ments was, in short, the only game in town in the immediate aftermath of World War II. 130 the foundatIons of a new world order Given the importance of nuclear weapons in sustaining US alliance com- mitments, it is unsurprising that even while the United States was undergo- ing a substantial conventional military demobilization, it was dedicating considerable resources to expanding its nuclear arsenal. The Joint Chiefs of Staff in 1947 called for an enlargement of the US nuclear arsenal, and sub- stantial effort was dedicated to overcoming production probl ems and build- ing up both the nuclear weapons stockpile and the B-50, B-36, and B-29 bombers necessary for their delivery.76 Similarly, it is unsurprising that the Berlin crisis of 1948 triggered internal discussions about who controlled US nuclear weapons during crises, as well as limited US nuclear signaling in an effort to deter further Soviet actions.77 Three days after the Soviet Union shut off ground access into Berlin, the Strategic Air Command was placed on alert, and by the middle of July the US government announced the de- ployment of two B-29 squadrons (explici tly described as “atomic capable”) to the United Kingdom at the request of the British government. These bomb- ers were not in fact equipped to deliver nuclear weapons, but those B-29s in the United States that had been modified to deliver nuclear weapons were placed on a twenty- four- hour alert.78 The fact that the United States agreed to Britain’s request for nuclear signaling of this sort despite Truman’s con- cern that “this is no time to be juggling an atomic bomb around” is further evidence of the role that nuclear weapons played in bolstering US allies in the immediate aftermath of World War II.79 From shortly after the end of World War II, therefore, the United States used its nuclear weapons to underwrite a host of new and existing alliances. By using nuclear weapons as a substitute for conventional forces, the United States avoided having to choose between a return to its traditional foreign policy of isolationism, on the one hand, and retaining a large standing army and an economy dedicated to large- scale war fighting, on the other. With- out nuclear weapons, the United States would have been forced to confront this dilemma directly, sacrificing either the postwar demobilization of the US military or the United States’ new forward position in the world. overseas bases US policymakers had concluded during the war that US dominance of the Western Hemi sphere was no longer sufficient to guarantee US security, and that the United States required a permanent and extensive network of overseas bases for both offensive and defensive operations. The attack on Pearl Harbor, the rise of strategic bombing as a tactic of g reat power war, and the possibility of other states using nuclear weapons against the United States all pointed in the direction of a more forward defense and an exten- sive system of overseas bases. Such bases would allow the United States both a greater chance of interdicting attacks on the homeland and a greater ability to proj ect power against potential adversaries. As the Joint Chiefs of 131 chapter 4 Staff argued, in the aftermath of World War II, “neither geography nor al- lies w ill render a nation immune from sudden and paralyzing attack should an aggressor arise to plague the peace of the world.”80 As Army chief of staff George Marshall stated, “It no longer appears practical to continue what we once conceived as hemispheric defense as a satisfactory basis for our security. We are now concerned with the peace of the entire world.”81 As the US envoy to Moscow had informed Stalin in 1945, “The interests of the United States were worldwide and not confined to North and South Amer ic a and the Pacific Ocean.”82 In 1943, defense officials therefore started to examine the number of overseas bases that the United States would need in the after math of victory. In November 1945, months after the Japan ese surrender, the Chiefs of Staff provided the secretary of state with a list of thirty-fi ve bases deemed “essential” or “required.”83 As Leffler summa- rizes the outcome of the proc ess: “ After extensive discussion, the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) defined a set of primary, secondary, and minor base sites. The primary areas stretched to the western shores of the Pacific, en- compassed the polar air routes, and projected U.S. power into the Eastern Atlantic as well as the Ca ribb ean and the Panama Canal zone. Dozens of additional sites were denoted as secondary and minor base areas.” In short, US “military planners [had] redefined the U.S. strategic perimeter.”84 Putting in place a globe- spanning network of overseas bases could be plausibly interpreted e ither as aggression, expansion, or steadfastness. Cer- tainly, these bases were part of a broader US strategy to play a larger role in world affairs and increase the US ability to proje ct power. Compared with any previous period of peace, they represented a significant expansion of US interests. In Layne’s words, in planning for a peacetime network of over- seas bases, “American policymakers were laying the grand strategic foun- dations of a post- war international system in which U.S. power would be predominant.”85 General Groves encouraged the United States to take ad- vantage of its predominant power to expand its position: “We are now in a favorable position. . . . W e should get our bases now and plan not for 10 years but for 50–100 years ahead.”86 However, an argument could be made that such be hav iors represented aggression: the United States was generating greater offensive capabilities to guarantee a long-s tanding interest— the abil- ity to protect the US homeland—f rom developing threats and the increas- ing power projection capabilities of adversaries. Certainly many US docu- ments framed the importance of overseas bases in such terms. For example, a 1946 report stated that “u nless warfare itself is abolished or atomic war- fare is effectively prohibited, it will be necessary for the United States to maintain . . . forward bases from which attacks against the United States could be intercepted and counter-a ttacks could be delivered against poss i- ble enemies.” The report concluded that “our armed forces must seize upon these new developments and utilize them fully.”87 A 1949 report for the NSC on Japan argued that “United States control of Japan . . . w ill not only deny 132 the foundatIons of a new world order to the USSR an extremely impor tant strategic base . . . it w ill provide us with staging areas from which to proj ect our military power to the Asiatic main- land and to USSR islands adjacent thereto.”88 Similarly, if one views these bases as simply allowing the United States to respond more quickly to acts of aggression by others, the creation of the US base network could also be viewed as an instance of steadfastness. Regardless of w hether establishing a permanent peacetime network of overseas bases constituted an instance of aggression, steadfastness, or expan- sion, nuclear weapons played an import ant role in facilitating this beh av- ior. Of course, plans for overseas bases had been initiated before the United States acquired nuclear weapons. Nonetheless, the relationship between nu- clear weapons and a more extensive basing system went in both directions and was mutually reinforcing. In other words, an expanded basing system increased the potency and deliverability of US nuclear capabilities, and US nuclear capabilities increased the utility of an expanded basing system. As a 1945 report argued: “[The] advent of the atomic bomb . . . greatly increase[s] the importance of [advance] bases. This is true both offensively and defen- sively. Offensively, it is essential to transport the bomb to the internal vital areas of the e nemy nation. The closer our bases are to t hose areas, the more effectively can this be done. . . . All of this points to the great importance of expanding our strategic frontiers in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and to the shores of the Arctic.”89 Similarly, a 1947 report on the broader military implications of nuclear weapons recommended the “establishment of a system of strategically lo- cated overseas bases from which all our offensive weapons may be employed, thus enhancing our security by extending the range of those weapons.”90 Nuclear weapons may not, therefore, have reduced the costs of an expanded system of overseas bases. But nuclear weapons increased the military value of such a system, making it more attractive to US military planners. Overseas bases and nuclear weapons also combined to serve the broader pol itic al im- perative of postwar conventional demobilization. The way in which nuclear weapons facilitated this goal was discussed above. But overseas bases were similarly critical to minimizing the military risks associated with a rapid de- mobilization, and the combination of the two was particularly valuable. As a Chiefs of Staff report had described, the challenge for the United States was to balance the priority of “maintenance of the United States in the best poss i- ble relative position . . . r eady when necessary to take military action abroad” with the recognition that “the United States, relative to other great powers, will maintain in peace time as armed forces only a minimum percentage of its war time potential.” To do this required that US forces be “disposed stra- tegically [so] that they can be brought to bear at the source of e nemy mili- tary power, or in other critical areas in time.”91 This meant stationing US forces closer to potential theaters of military operation. Overseas bases— and the increased potency that they offered when combined with nuclear 133 chapter 4 weapons—t hus allowed the United States to engage in postwar demobiliza- tion while maintaining significant power projection capabilities. foreign policy t oward the soviet u nion Nuclear weapons also facilitated the way in which the United States con- ducted its foreign policy toward the Soviet Union. Again, the circumstances of the immediate postwar period make it hard to unambiguously conclude w hether these be hav iors should be characterized as aggression, expansion, or steadfastness. The status quo was ill defined and open to conflicting in- terpretations, and the extent of the United States’ preexisting interests was far from clear. As a result, dif fere nt scholars have very dif fer ent interpreta- tions of certain US actions. For example, was the provision of aid to the governments of Turkey and Greece— subsequently articulated as the Truman Doctrine and a core part of the early postwar effort to contain Soviet influence—an example of ex- pansion, aggression, or steadfastness? In one view, the policy was an exam- ple of steadfastness. Gaddis argues that the provision of aid to the Turkish and Greek governments simply sought to defend the status quo. The Tru- man Doctrine was “the ultimate expression of the ‘patience and firmness’ strategy . . . that the United States could allow no further gains in territory or influence for the Soviet Union.”92 This was certainly how some US offi- cials saw the policy. In the words of a State Department memo, the purpose of US aid was to maintain the status quo by preventing an other wise certain “breakdown in the Greek economy . . . which would have resulted in domi- nation of Greece by the Communists.”93 But in another light, US policy ap- pears expansive: the Americans w ere shedding the last vestiges of isolation- ism and expanding their interests to gain increased influence in the Mediterranean and M iddle East as British power waned. Stephen Xydis ar- gues that the Truman Doctrine initiated “an authentically revolutionary phase in the nation’s experience [that] ended the epoch of isolation.”94 Lef- fler argues that “the real probl em was that t here loomed gaping vacuums of power. . . . While British power found ered, the American desire for access to the airfields and petroleum resources of the Middle East mounted.”95 In another view, the policy was aggressive because it aimed to push more force- fully in pursuit of the preexisting interest of resisting and rolling back com- munist expansion: Howard Jones argues that the Truman Doctrine indicated “the administration’s willingness to engage in the strugg le against commu- nism on all fronts— social, po litic al, and economic as well as military.”96 As discussed above, I do not seek to resolve t hese debates by affixing par- ticu l ar labels to these be havi ors. Instead, I describe the basic features of US interactions with the Soviet Union in the immediate postwar period, and the ways in which nuclear weapons influenced them. What w ere the key fea- tures of US foreign policy t oward the Soviet Union? I discuss three aspects 134 the foundatIons of a new world order of US foreign policy: the willingness to engage in vigorous and sometimes escalatory diplomacy in response to perceived Soviet aggression, offensive covert actions aimed at undermining the Soviet Union in Eastern Eur ope and within the Soviet Union itself, and the prominence of thinking about pre- ventive war in US foreign policy discourse. I argue that nuclear weapons con- tributed to each of t hese components of US foreign policy t oward the Soviet Union. First, the United States engaged in active and sometimes belligerent di- plomacy in response to, and to deter, perceived Soviet aggression and mis- behavior. In 1946, the United States had become increasingly angered by So- viet maintenance of troops in Iran. In Truman’s words, this represented an “outrage if I ever saw one,” and ultimately coerced the Soviet Union into withdrawing forces from the country.97 Also in 1946, Truman had declared himself willing to follow “to the end” advice that recommended using “the force of American arms” in the event of any Soviet aggression in Turkey.98 Scholars disagree over whether such Soviet intervention was in fact likely— Leffler argues that such fears w ere “contrived” to justify the American de- sire for access to the airfields and oil of the Middle East, while Mark argues that they w ere “sincere and justified within the context of the strategic prem- ises that informed American foreign policy.”99 In March 1947, Truman laid out the Truman Doctrine, providing support for the Greek and Turkish gov- ernments in response to Britain withdrawing its aid to the two states.100 And in 1948, in response to the Soviet blockade of West Berlin (which in turn was in response to the announcement of the deutsche mark) the Western allies undertook the Berlin airlift to transport food and fuel to the city’s popula- tion, flying over two hundred thousand flights over the eleven months of the blockade. The Joint Chiefs of Staff concluded in October 1948 that to go to war over Berlin “would be neither militarily prudent nor strategically sound,” and urged the civilian leadership to consider withdrawing from West Berlin.101 But despite the United States’ relative military weakness and the vulnerability of Berlin to Soviet military action, the United States was nonetheless prepared to engage in escalations that risked Soviet escalation. This is not to suggest that the United States always chose to escalate con- flicts in its dealings with the Soviet Union. For example, while the president had proclaimed that it was “the policy of the United States to support free peoples who are resisting attempted subjugation,”102 this policy was cer- tainly not pursued universally: the United States did not seek to oppose the Communists in Czechos lov ak ia in 1947, dec ided to withdraw from K orea in the same year, and took a “ middle road” in seeking to prevent commu- nist takeovers of Italy and Greece.103 Nonetheless, the escalation of disputes with the Soviet Union was a key feature of US foreign policy in the after- math of the war. Second, the United States undertook actions aimed at undermining the So- viet Union within the eastern bloc and Soviet territory: what one report to 135 chapter 4 Truman recommended as “dynamic steps to reduce the power and influence of the Kremlin inside the Soviet Union and other areas under its control.”104 Historians are increasingly documenting the extent to which the United States used covert efforts to weaken the Soviet position within its own terri- tory and sphere of influence.105 Covert operations began with an effort to suppress the Communist vote and ensure a Christian Demo crat victory in the Italian elections in 1947.106 The perceived success of this effort led to the approval by Truman in 1948 of NSC 20/4, which stated explic itly that Amer- i ca’s goals “in times of peace as well as in time of war” were to “reduce the power and influence of the USSR to limits which no longer constitute a threat,” ambitions that would require the United States to “place the maxi- mum strain on the Soviet structure of power.”107 This was accompanied by NSC 10/2, which concluded that “the overt foreign activities of the U.S. gov- ernment must be supplemented by covert operations” and demanded that operations be “planned and executed [so] that any U.S. Government can plausibly disclaim any responsibility.”108 This directive provided the basis for a range of policies: broadcasting propaganda into the Soviet Union and Eastern Eu rope, the deployment of paramilitary forces to develop under- ground re sis tance movements, the attempt to disrupt Kremlin decision making, the funneling of support to East Eu ro pean liberation groups, sabo- tage and dem o lit ion, encouraging defections to the West, and attempting to provoke power strugg les and personal animosity within the Communist leadership. The Office of Policy Coordination (OPC), created by NSC 10/2 and attached to the CIA, was authorized to engage in covert operations, and by 1952 its budg et had grown to $82 million, with over 2,800 employees and an additional 3,142 operatives under contract.109 The goals of t hese efforts w ere explic itly offensive: “to increase confusion, suspicion and fear among the Communist leaders” and to “encourage mass defections from Soviet al- legiance and to frustrate the Kremlin design in other ways.”110 Undermin- ing the Soviet Union’s influence in Eastern Eu rope proved harder than US policymakers hoped: the OPC’s James McCargar had anticipated that “we had only to shake the trees and the ripe plums would fall.”111 But offensive actions inside the Soviet sphere of influence w ere nonetheless a part of US foreign policy toward the Soviet Union. Third, arguments for preventive war against the Soviet Union w ere sur- prisingly prevalent in the United States—b oth inside government and out- side.112 As the phil os o pher Bertrand Russell wrote at the time, “If Amer ic a were less imperialistic, t here would be another possibility. . . . I t would be poss i ble for Americans to use their position of temporary superiority to in- sist upon disarmament . . . everywhere except the United States. . . . D uring the next few years this policy could be enforced.”113 These ideas w ere not confined to phi loso phers and public intellectuals. As Trachtenberg docu- ments, leading journalists, US senators, and high- ranking military officers all made preventive war arguments.114 While such ideas w ere not imple- 136 the foundatIons of a new world order mented for a range of practical, strategic, and normative reasons, their exis- tence is notable. Regardless of w hether one views t hese features of US foreign policy t oward the Soviet Union as instances of expansion, aggression, or steadfast- ness (or some combination of all three), what role did nuclear weapons play in facilitating them? In short, it is hard to overemphasize the importance of nuclear weapons. As a 1946 State Department report had stated, “It would be strange indeed if the perfection of such a revolutionary weapon did not have g reat po liti cal effects.”115 In a situation of conventional weakness rela- tive to the Soviet Union, US nuclear weapons were the only capability that gave the United States some degree of escalation dominance, and thus fa- cilitated the United States taking actions that ran some risk of leading to con- flict. The importance of nuclear weapons in facilitating US foreign policy toward the Soviet Union was reflected in the considerable (and growing) pri- ority accorded to atomic bombing in US war plans for potential conflict with the Soviet Union. War plan BROILER in 1947 called for 34 bombs to be dropped on 24 cities; TROJAN, approved in 1948, requested 133 bombs be used on 70 cities; while OFFTACKLE in 1949 called for 220 bombs to be dropped on 104 cities.116 Trachtenberg summarizes the way in which nuclear weapons facilitated US foreign policy toward the Soviet Union: What in fact was the situation as it appeared to policymakers at the time? First, it was universally understood that if war broke out, Eu rope would be overrun; but then the United States would gear up and begin a sustained campaign of atomic bombardment. To be sure, the initial American atomic strike on Russ ia would have only a l imited effect on Soviet war-m aking ca- pabilities. . . . [But] Russ ian industry and war-m aking power would gradu- ally be destroyed with bombs and bombers produced a fter the war had started. The United States was sure to win in the end. The Soviets would not start a war because they knew that an American victory would simply be a m atter of time.117 Nuclear weapons w ere not a blank check for the United States to do what- ever it wanted. The United States had to behave carefully b ecause “even with the nuclear mono poly, American power barely balanced Soviet power in central Eu rope.”118 As discussed above, any war involving an extended period of US atomic bombing of the Soviet Union would have been unimag- inably destructive. Nonetheless, because the United States believed that its nuclear capabilities meant it would ultimately win such a war, the United States was able to resist Soviet encroachments and escalate crises at consid- erably lower risk: ultimately, it was unlikely that the Soviet Union would risk the atomic bombardment that would come if a crisis escalated to war. Events that occurred reinforced this logic for US policymakers, providing evidence of the bargaining advantages that nuclear weapons granted the United States. For example, after leaving office, Truman argued that it was 137 chapter 4 the threat of nuclear use that coerced the Soviet Union into withdrawing its forces from Iran. More broadly, however, US officials w ere aware that this sort of muscular diplomacy involved risks given the conventional balance: in the words of a State Department memo, US policies had to be conducted with “full realiza- tion of our military in effec tive ness” and cognizant of the dangers of “Soviet miscalculation of American intentions and potentialities.”119 Nuclear weap- ons allowed the United States to limit the risks of such beh av ior even though the conventional balance was unfavorable. Secretary of Defense Forrestal laid out the logic explici tly in 1947. He wrote in a letter to the Senate Armed Ser- vices Committee: “At the pre sent time we are keeping our military expendi- tures below the levels which our military leaders must in good conscience estimate as the minimum which would in themselves ensure national secu- rity. . . . In other words, we are taking a calculated risk.” He went on to argue that “certain military advantages . . . go far toward covering the risk,” which he listed as the “predominance of American sea power; our exclusive posses- sion of the atomic bomb; [and] American productive capacity. As long as we can outproduce the world, can control the sea, and strike inland with the atomic bomb, we can assume certain risks otherw ise unacceptable. . . . T he years before any pos si ble power can achieve the capability effectively to at- tack us with weapons of mass destruction are our years of opportunity.”120 The result of the military balance, Forrestal argued in 1948, was that “it is in- conceivable that even the gang who run Rus sia would be willing to take on war.”121 In short, nuclear weapons allowed the United States to escalate dis- putes with the Soviet Union with reasonable confidence that such actions would not lead to war. And while the United States did not have the conven- tional capabilities to engage in a large-s cale offensive against the Soviet Union, US nuclear weapons meant that there was little to prevent the United States from pursuing low- cost covert actions to undermine the Soviet posi- tion. Further evidence for the role of nuclear weapons in facilitating this be- havi or, and in line with Forrestal’s argument, is provided by the modifica- tions made to US policy once the Soviet Union acquired high-y ield nuclear weapons capable of being delivered to the United States. For example, the United States constrained some of the covert activities in which it was en- gaged in Eastern Eu rope in response to rising Soviet nuclear capabilities.122 Other US policymakers were also clear that US nuclear weapons granted the United States significant advantages in its dealings with the Soviet Union, even if they did not lay out the logic as fully as Forrestal. Secretary of War Stimson wrote in his diary in May 1945 about a conversation with Assistant Secretary of War John McCloy in which he recalled: “We have talked too much and been too lavish with our beneficences to them [the Russ ians]. I told him this was a place where we really held all the cards. I called it a royal straight flush and we mustn’t be a fool about the way we play it. They can’t get along without our help and industries and we have coming into action 138 the foundatIons of a new world order a weapon which w ill be unique.”123 General Carl Spaatz stated: “Our mono- poly of the bomb, even though it is transitory, may well prove to be a critical f actor in our efforts to achieve first a stabilized condition and eventually a lasting peace” on American terms.124 Secretary of State Byrnes had argued that nuclear weapons “might well put us in a position to dictate our own terms at the end of the war,” and that US nuclear weapons might make the Rus sians “more manageable” on the question of Eastern Eu rope.125 Overall, therefore, US nuclear weapons underpinned US foreign policy toward the Soviet Union in import ant ways. Regardless of the part icu lar la- bel one attaches to this aspect of US foreign policy, the role played by nu- clear weapons is significant. economic diplomacy Economic diplomacy—t he use of the United States’ enormous economic power to achieve po litic al ends— was at the core of US foreign policy in the aftermath of World War II. Indeed, Robert Pollard argues that “American leaders used foreign economic power as the chief instrument of U.S. secu- rity from 1945 until the outbreak of the conflict in Korea.”126 W hether or not one goes as far as Pollard, t here is l ittle question that the Marshall Plan and creation of the Bretton Woods institutions w ere prominent parts of US ef- forts to achieve pol iti cal ends in the immediate aftermath of World War II.127 Again, in the highly fluid circumstances of the immediate postwar period, one could make a reasonable case that these policies constituted examples of expansion, aggression, or steadfastness. For example, one could see US foreign economic policy as “the first major attempt by the United States to restructure the world economy,” or as a more status quo policy aiming sim- ply to reduce the likelihood of another spiral into economic nationalism, pro- tectionism, and war.128 Instead of trying to resolve such debates, I aim to simply show that nuclear weapons facilitated these policies. Consistent with the story told above, it was the United States’ ability to use nuclear weap- ons as a substitute for conventional forces that freed up resources to rebuild Western Eu rope eco nom ically while retaining the ability to deter Soviet mil- itary actions against Western Eu rope. The experience of the 1930s had convinced US policymakers that economic nationalism and rivalry w ere destabilizing forces and causes of interstate conflict, and US policymakers feared a potential postwar economic depres- sion.129 During the war, US officials w ere planning for agreements that would ensure a more econ omi cally liberal international order, which was not only to the strategic and economic advantage of the United States but without which, a 1944 State Department report argued, the postwar world would “witness a revival, in more intense form, of the international economic warfare which characterized the twenties and thirties.”130 US worries were legitimate: Eu rope’s economies suffered serious balance- of- payment difficulties and 139 chapter 4 production shortfalls, while the inflow of dollars resulting from increased private US foreign investment into Eur ope in 1946 and 1947 was canceled out by similarly increasing Eu ro pean investments in the United States, culminating in a severe recession in the winter of 1946–1947.131 The Bretton Woods agreements in 1944 (which created the International Monetary Fund [IMF] and World Bank) and the Marshall Plan (which aimed to rebuild Western Eu rope) were the most prominent features of this policy in the immediate postwar period. The Marshall Plan, in par ticu lar, involved enormous expenditures: $130 billion in 2016 dollars.132 Even for an “eco- nomic g iant,” as Truman described the United States, t hese costs w ere sig- nificant, and congressional approval was not automatic.133 As Acheson noted in 1947, more foreign aid requests were unlikely to be well received, since it “was understood when the British loan was made last year that no further requests for direct loans to foreign governments would be asked of Con- gress.”134 Indeed, achieving congressional support for the Marshall Plan ultimately required emphasizing the looming Soviet danger rather than the economic benefits for the United States, and in 1949, spending on the Mar- shall Plan, military aid, and other international programs was cut signifi- cantly, alongside further cuts in the US armed forces.135 The considerable resources that the United States wished to dedicate to economic diplomacy therefore required choices to be made.136 That choice was essentially between rebuilding the US military and rebuilding the econ- omies of Western Eu rope. US policymakers framed this choice explic itly. As Forrestal argued: by keeping defense expenditure low, “we are able to in- crease our expenditure on Eur o pean recovery.” This represented a “calcu- lated risk in order to follow a course which offers a prospect of eventually achieving national security and also long- term world stability.”137 Nuclear weapons, as described above, facilitated this choice between guns and butter in Western Eur ope by making the consequences of choosing but- ter less militarily worrisome. Nuclear weapons allowed the United States to retain the ability to deter the Soviet Union with only a “tripwire” of conven- tional forces. In short, “the Truman administration remained confident that American economic power, backed by the deterrent power of the atomic bomb as a weapon of last resort, could almost single-h andedly prevent a re- turn to the economic isolationism of the interwar years and stabilize vital regions and countries.”138 But this trade- off was fragile and dependent on the credibility of US nuclear use: as Paul Nitze pointed out in a meeting of the State Department Policy Planning Staff, if the United States could not use nuclear weapons in response to a Russ ian conventional assault, it would be necessary to make greater investments in “conventional armaments and their possession by the Western Eu ro pean nations,” and that this would nec- essarily lead to reduced economic investment in these countries, “lower[ing] rather than rais[ing] civilian standards of living in order to produce arms as against consumer goods.”139 140 the foundatIons of a new world order Again, therefore, nuclear weapons played an impor tant role in facilitat- ing a key pillar of US postwar foreign policy: the use of economic power to achieve po litic al ends. ind e pen dence and compromise Despite the ambiguity surrounding many of the foreign policies above, it is relatively clear that the United States did not use nuclear weapons to fa- cilitate two be havi ors in the typology: ind e pen dence and compromise. The United States did not use its nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pen- dence—t aking actions that allies oppose. As discussed above, the United States sought to use its nuclear weapons to strengthen its alliances and draw new states into its own alliance portfolio. But the United States did not seek to use nuclear weapons to gain ind e pen dence from allies. The United States did move swiftly to extract itself from the constraints of the Anglo-A merican war time agreements. But US nuclear weapons played no role in the United States d oing so. After all, the United States was by some distance the world’s most powerf ul country, and the United Kingdom was dependent on US eco- nomic support to recover in the aftermath of World War II. The United States was thus able to set an ind e pen dent course in its foreign policy with or without nuclear weapons, including with res pect to the United Kingdom. If anything, nuclear weapons—a nd their prominence within US war plans— may have increased the reliance of the United States on certain allies due to the need for overseas bases to deliver them. During the Korean War, for ex- ample, Dean Acheson remarked that the United States had to pay atten- tion to British concerns about the conduct of the war because the United States would require British bases if it wanted to use nuclear weapons: “We can bring U.S. [atomic] power into play only with the cooperation of the British.”140 Fi nally, the United States did not seem to use its nuclear weapons to en- gage in compromise— accepting less in ongoing disputes. Certainly, the United States was not equally belligerent in all cases and could in many in- stances have taken more escalatory actions. However, this was a reflection of American perceptions of the limits of its conventional power rather than the result of its nuclear weapons. As George Marshall argued, US military power had to be employed selectively, and thus he was “obliged to resist pressures, however justifiable and understandable,” to send US forces on missions that were beyond their capabilities. Instead, “it was necessary to conserve our very limited strength and apply it only where it was likely to be most effective.”141 Similarly, as the Joint Chiefs of Staff argued, “ every ef- fort should be made to avoid military commitment” u nless it was preceded by a substantial military mobilization.142 The United States often avoided es- calation not b ecause nuclear weapons granted it security but b ecause of the precarious conventional military balance. 141 chapter 4 Instead, US policymakers seem to have consistently believed that US nu- clear weapons granted the United States bargaining advantages that would allow it to achieve better outcomes in international politics rather than guar- anteeing it the security that would facilitate it accepting less. Indeed, it is notable how insecure US policymakers felt in the aftermath of World War II. Despite the enormously favorable geopol iti cal position that the United States held at the end of World War II, US elites—p erhaps unsurprisingly, given the nature of the conflict that had just concluded— remained deeply con- cerned about potential adversaries and the possibility of f uture wars. In fact, the advent of the nuclear age exacerbated t hese concerns, as the United States now had to consider the possibility of other states acquiring nuclear weapons and potential f uture nuclear attack. Nuclear weapons did not, therefore, make US policymakers feel sufficiently secure that they felt in- clined to use them to facilitate compromise. Overall, despite the difficulty in distinguishing between the vari ous for- eign policy beh av iors in the complex international environment that char- acterized the aftermath of World War II, the theory of nuclear opportunism sheds light on the be havi or of the United States. The theory correctly antici- pates that US foreign policy would be profoundly affected by nuclear weapons. More specifically, as the theory of nuclear opportunism would an- ticipate, the United States used nuclear weapons to engage in beh av iors that can be reasonably characterized as bolstering, expansion, and steadfast- ness and did not use nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pend ence or com- promise. Nonetheless, and against the expectations of the theory, the United States also used nuclear weapons to engage in be hav iors that could be rea- sonably characterized as aggression. Other Explanations How do other theories fare in explaining the US response to nuclear acqui- sition? The theory of the nuclear revolution predicts that nuclear weapons would make the United States more secure and that the United States would have less need to engage in aggression, expansion, or bolstering—a ll of which are be havi ors driven by insecurity. However, the theory of the nuclear revolution predicts that states may use nuclear weapons to facilitate stead- fastness, ind e pen dence, and compromise both during and after the war. The theory does make some correct predictions. For example, as discussed, the United States did use nuclear weapons to facilitate compromise during the war (albeit in a limited way). However, the theory of the nuclear revolution performs particularly poorly in predicting US beh av ior after World War II.143 The theory predicts that the United States would use nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness, in de pen dence, and compromise in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition but would not use them to facilitate aggression, expan- 142 the foundatIons of a new world order sion, or bolstering. It is hard to argue that these predictions are realized in US conduct in the aftermath of World War II. Overall, the theory of the nu- clear revolution makes fewer correct predictions than the theory of nuclear opportunism and does not anticipate the profound ways in which nuclear weapons facilitated a range of US policies that can reasonably be classified as instances of aggression, expansion, or bolstering. S. Paul Kapur’s theory of emboldenment anticipates that the United States would not have used nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression during (or after) the war. For Kapur, only conventionally weak and revisionist states use nuclear weapons to engage in aggression. While the United States was certainly a revisionist actor in World War II at the point of acquisition— seeking the overthrow and replacement of the Japan ese regime—it was also an extremely conventionally powerf ul state that had developed unprec e- dented military capabilities during the war. Kapur’s theory therefore per- forms less well than the theory of nuclear opportunism in this case. Crucially, both Kapur’s theory of nuclear emboldenment and the theory of the nuclear revolution fail to anticipate the change in the way that nuclear weapons af- fected US foreign policy with the end of World War II. US Grand Strategy and Nuclear Weapons through the Cold War and Beyond Nuclear weapons thus underpinned US grand strategy in the early days of the Cold War. But did t hese effects endure? Did the United States continue to use nuclear weapons to support a more expansive position in the world, as the theory of nuclear opportunism anticipates? Or did t hese effects dis- sipate as other countries acquired nuclear weapons? It is certainly true that using nuclear weapons as the foundation for an expansive US g rand strategy became more complicated as the Soviet Union and other countries began to acquire nuclear weapons, threatening to neu- tralize Ameri ca’s nuclear advantage. Maintaining the credibility of US nu- clear deterrence and, especially, extended deterrence in a world of multiple nuclear- armed powers became an increasingly challenging probl em for US policymakers. However, the United States did not respond to t hese con- straints by retrenching or abandoning its more expansive ambitions, or by accepting the constraints of operating in a world characterized by mutual assured destruction among the g reat powers. Instead, successive adminis- trations concluded that US security demanded a more expansive grand strat- egy, and an expansive nuclear posture to underpin it. As Francis Gavin notes, t here is a g reat irony in the fact that “rarely has a state had less need for the bomb to guarantee its immediate territorial integrity, sovereignty, and security [than the United States]. Yet no state has invested greater resources in developing and deploying nuclear weapons, nor has any other state re- lied more heavi ly on nuclear weapons to implement its g rand strategy.”144 143 chapter 4 Instead of accepting the condition of mutual assured destruction and the strategic stability it implies, the United States continued to strive for the nu- clear superiority necessary to support its expansive ambitions in interna- tional politics. First, at least until the mid-1960s, the United States sought to maintain quantitative nuclear superiority over its rivals and particularly the Soviet Union, building up an enormous nuclear arsenal and threatening massive retaliation in response to adversary actions that the United States could not deter with purely conventional means.145 The Soviet Union, of course, was also capable of building large numbers of nuclear weapons, and by the 1970s, the United States had begun to reluctantly accept quantitative parity with the Soviet Union. Although President Richard Nixon “hated MAD, [and] be- lieved its logic was defeatist and naive,” he ultimately signed arms control treaties with the Soviet Union that acknowledged that the United States would never again possess quantitative superiority over its rival.146 Instead of abandoning the goal of nuclear superiority, however, the United States shifted to the pursuit of qualitative superiority, which, it was hoped, would play more to American advantages in technological development and scientific innovation.147 Prominent components of this effort included design- ing, producing, and deploying the Pershing II, MX, and Trident D-5 mis- siles, while sim ul ta neously investing heavil y in missile defense and the ca- pabilities needed to hunt and threaten Soviet nuclear submarines.148 None of these capabilities would have been necessary had the United States merely wanted a second- strike capability or the ability to deter a nuclear attack. Second, beyond the numbers and quality of weapons, the United States also pursued a nuclear posture that aimed to make its expansive geopol iti- cal position credible. In an effort to maintain the credibility of US nuclear commitments, the United States invested in highly aggressive and counterforce-o riented US nuclear postures and quixotic efforts to design and build reliable missile defense systems that advocates of the nuclear revolu- tion viewed as destabilizing and doomed to failure.149 Such efforts, it was believed, could underpin Ameri ca’s ambitious geopol itic al goals. For exam- ple, the only way to persuade Eu ro pean (or other) allies that the United States might risk its own cities to defend t hose of its allies was if the US nu- clear posture was sufficiently powerf ul that it could limit its own vulnera- bility to retaliation: that the United States would not, in fact, have to swap Boston for Bonn. As Earl Ravenal argued during the 1980s, “Ameri c a’s will- ingness to protect its allies rises or falls with the prospective viability of coun- terforce and, more generally, with the United States’ ability to protect its own society from nuclear attack.”150 The US desire to make nuclear use, and nuclear use on behalf of allies, credible even in a world in which such use might trigger nuclear retaliation provides at least part of the explanation for the fact that US nuclear war plans became dominated by counterforce con- siderations by the early 1960s.151 144 the foundatIons of a new world order Counterforce targeting was not the only aspect of US nuclear strategy driven by a desire to maintain the credibility of nuclear use. The United States also deployed nuclear weapons on the territory of a host of allies, including Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Greece, Italy, Morocco, the Netherlands, the Philippines, South Korea, Spain, Taiwan, Turkey, the United Kingdom, and West Germany, to make nuclear use on behalf of allies more feasible and plausible.152 Third, the desire to maintain the credibility of US nuclear use and US free- dom of action more broadly has motivated the United States to direct mili- tary, economic, and diplomatic power to prevent both allies and adversar- ies from acquiring nuclear weapons and to limit the consequences of proliferation when t hose efforts failed.153 Indeed, nonproliferation has fre- quently taken priority over other impor tant po liti cal goals. For example, the United States was willing to work cooperatively with its sworn adversary, the Soviet Union, to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons, partly on the assumption that other countries acquiring nuclear weapons would itself stimulate further proliferation, constrain the United States’ freedom of ac- tion, and reduce the credibility of the United States’ own threats to use nu- clear weapons.154 Again, it was the United States’ broad and expansive geopol itic al ambitions that made these “strategies of inhibition” both desir- able and viable.155 Indeed, the belief that nuclear weapons play a crucial role in sustaining Amer i ca’s alliances and expansive g rand strategy continues to this day. The United States stations fewer nuclear forces on the territory of allies and has reduced the number of nuclear weapons it possesses. Nonetheless, even in a unipolar world in which the United States f aces no peer competitor and possesses by far the most conventional military power of any state in the world, the US government continues to describe nuclear weapons as a “foun- dational capabilit[y]” critical for reassuring Ameri c a’s allies around the world and underpinning the US role in the world.156 Similarly, US adminis- trations from both pol itic al parties have often sought nuclear solutions to c ounter perceived military threats to allies, such as a potential Russ ian threat to hard-t o-d efend NATO allies in the Baltics and Eastern Eu rope. As the 2018 Nuclear Posture Review states, for example, “Expanding flexible U.S. nuclear options now, to include low-y ield options, is import ant for the preservation of credible deterrence against regional aggression.”157 In short, the strategic thinking that emerged in the aftermath of World War II, that nuclear weap- ons could facilitate a far more expansive g rand strategy and network of al- liance commitments than the United States had ever previously considered, has continued well into the twenty- first century. Even as the international system has changed dramatically— including the collapse of the United States’ only superpower rival—t he United States has continued to view nu- clear weapons as being a crucial component of Ameri ca’s position at the apex of the international system. 145 chapter 4 The evidence shows that nuclear acquisition substantially affected US for- eign policy, but did so differently during World War II and in its aftermath. As a state in the midst of a brutal war, the United States first used nuclear weapons to escalate the conflict and try to win the war against the Japa nese. In the aftermath of World War II, the United States faced no serious threats or challenges to its military preponderance and used nuclear weapons to substitute for conventional forces, facilitating a mix of foreign policy beh av- iors that contained elem ents of bolstering, expansion, aggression, and stead- fastness. Overall, despite the difficulty in distinguishing between the vario us foreign policy be havi ors in the complex international environment that char- acterized the aftermath of World War II, the theory of nuclear opportunism sheds light on the be havi or of the United States and correctly anticipates that US foreign policy would be profoundly affected by nuclear weapons. Nuclear weapons thus underpinned crucial portions of US grand strategy in the postwar era, and this role persisted throughout the Cold War. The international order that the United States put in place was in crucial ways built on atomic foundations. Ultimately, nuclear weapons allowed the United States to take on a vastly more ambitious role in international poli- tics without the expense and domestic pol itic al challenges that maintaining enormous conventional military capabilities would have entailed. 146 chapter 5 Past and Future Proliferators The theory of nuclear opportunism performs well (though not perfectly) in explaining the way in which Britain, South Africa, and the United States thought about and used their nuclear weapons to advance their po liti cal goals. But how does the theory perform in explaining the beh av ior of other states that have acquired nuclear weapons? Further, what does the theory predict for potential future cases of proliferation? L imited primary sources for many of the cases of nuclear acquisition means that drawing strong conclusions is difficult: without access to evidence about the internal deliberations of se nior policymakers, it can be hard to definitively assess the role that nuclear weapons play. Nonetheless, it is worth making an initial assessment of w hether the theory of nuclear opportunism appears to offer a plausible explanation for the way in which other states have changed their foreign policies after acquiring nuclear weapons. In this chapter, I exam- ine w hether Pakistan, India, France, Israel, and China appear to have re- sponded to nuclear acquisition in the way the theory of nuclear opportunism suggests, and use the theory to make predictions for how Iran, Japan, and South Korea would behave if they acquired nuclear weapons. I do not try to use the case of the Soviet Union to test the theory: as discussed in chapter 4 with re spect to the United States, the lack of a clear pre-n uclear baseline for be havi or and the considerable flux of the international system in the early days of the Cold War make testing the predictions of the theory more difficult, especially given the much more limited availability of primary documents than for the United States.1 Similarly, because of substantial uncertainty about North K orea’s nuclear posture (and thus, when North K orea acquired the the- oretically relevant capabilities), I do not attempt to test the theory using the North Korean case. Depending on how North Korea has conceived of the util- ity of its nuclear weapons, acquisition could have occurred as early as 1993, or as late as 2017, when North Korea successfully tested a high- yield nuclear weapon and missiles with the ability to target the United States.2 As would be expected, the theory of nuclear opportunism performs better in some cases than others. The theory performs well in explaining Pakistani, 147 chapter 5 Indian, and French be hav ior in the aftermath of acquiring nuclear weap- ons. However, the theory performs less well in explaining Israeli be hav ior and gets the Chinese case largely wrong. Nonetheless, overall, the theory receives significant validation and outperforms the alternative explanations. Pakistan Ever since the partition of British India in 1947, Pakistan has faced a serious territorial threat from India. India possesses considerably greater conven- tional military power than Pakistan, and a far larger economy, population, and territory. Moreover, India’s military superiority over Pakistan has been repeatedly demonstrated, with India besting Pakistan in each of the wars they have fought (in 1947, 1965, 1971, and 1999). Most dramatically, in the 1971 war, India dismembered Pakistan, creating the new state of Bangladesh out of East Pakistan, and what remains of Pakistan’s territory (previously West Pakistan) is geog raph i cally vulnerable to an Indian conventional as- sault. It is not surprising that in the aftermath of the 1971 humiliation, Paki- stani leaders vowed to acquire nuclear weapons: to “eat grass” if necessary in order to acquire the capabilities that might deter India from taking simi- lar actions in the future.3 Although Pakistan did not test nuclear weapons publicly u ntil 1998, it acquired a nuclear capability by the mid-t o- late 1980s.4 The theory of nuclear opportunism predicts that Pakistan, facing a severe territorial threat, would use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression and steadfastness. The theory predicts that pursuing ind ep end ence from its al- lies such as China or expanding its interests in South Asia or beyond would be impractical and unattractive goals for Pakistan even with nuclear weap- ons because of Pakistan’s overwhelming need to focus on the Indian threat and its need for assistance from any and all sources. According to the the- ory, Pakistan would choose to use its nuclear weapons to improve its posi- tion vis-à -v is India, and would therefore use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression and steadfastness. T hese predictions are realized: Pakistan began using nuclear weapons to advance its pol itic al interests by standing more firmly when provoked and in pushing harder to revise the status quo. In the Brasstacks Crisis of 1986– 1987, triggered by a large- scale Indian military exercise that Pakistani lead- ers feared might be a prelude to an invasion, Pakistan engaged in at least some degree of nuclear signaling to deter Indian aggression. Most notably, A. Q. Khan, the “f ather” of the Pakistani bomb program, gave an interview in which he stated that “nobody can undo Pakistan or take us for granted. . . . Let it be clear that we shall use the bomb if our existence is threatened.”5 However, the interview was not published for several weeks, and it remains unclear w hether his threats w ere officially sanctioned by the government or w hether they affected Indian be havi or.6 148 past and f uture prolIferators F uture crises between India and Pakistan would see more overt Pakistani nuclear signaling. In 1990, believing that India might respond to Paki- stani support for insurgents in Indian- controlled Jammu and Kashmir, Pakistani leaders met and determined the need to “deter this impending threat.”7 The way in which Pakistan chose to do so had a clear nuclear di- mension. Pakistani Army Chief General Aslam Beg stated that “a squadron of [nuclear- capable] F-16s was moved . . . a nd we pulled out our devices and all to arm the aircraft. . . . M ovement was made in a way that is vis i ble, because the purpose was not to precipitate a crisis but to deter.”8 Other acts of nuclear signaling also took place: Pakistan sent Foreign Minister Shahabzada Yaqub- Khan to Delhi to convey that Pakistan would hold India responsible for any attack, a message understood to have a nuclear dimension and with Beg confirming that “Yaqub-K han did a good job frightening them.”9 In 1999, in the aftermath of India’s and Pakistan’s nuclear tests, the Paki- stani military took action across the Line of Control to seize territory in Indian- controlled Kashmir. Pakistan’s actions triggered Indian retaliation and led to the Kargil War, with Pakistan ultimately forced back to the pre- war status quo.10 However, India’s retaliation was extremely meas ured, with Indian leaders careful to avoid crossing the Line of Control. This restraint stands in stark contrast to Indian actions in response to prior acts of Paki- stani aggression: in response to a similar Pakistani operation in 1965, India had retaliated across the Line of Control and the international border into core Pakistani territory.11 In 1999, Pakistani nuclear weapons deterred an In- dian response of this sort. Pakistan brandished its nuclear weapons during the crisis, with Pakistani foreign secretary Shamshad Ahmad publicly threat- ening to “use any weapon in our arsenal to defend our territorial integ- rity.”12 This rhe toric was backed up by action: the evidence suggests that the Pakistani military moved and readied nuclear assets for potential use (pos- sibly without the knowledge of the civilian leadership).13 The evidence— including statements from Indian officials with e very incentive to deny the deterrent effects of Pakistan’s nuclear weapons—s uggests that it was Paki- stani nuclear weapons that restrained India’s response. When Indian prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee was told that opening a second front against Pakistan across the border might be militarily necessary, Vajpayee report- edly looked shocked and responded, “But General Sahib, they have a nu- clear bomb!”14 The Indian national security advisor Brajesh Mishra con- firmed this fear, stating that the use of “nuclear weapons would have been risked if we did [cross the Line of Control].”15 And in a report by the Kargil Review Committee, analysts commissioned by the Indian government con- cluded that “Pakistan was convinced that its nuclear weapons capability would deter India’s superior conventional forces.”16 Since the Kargil War, Pakistani leaders have continued to engage in ag- gression against India, notably by using Pakistani- sponsored insurgents and terrorists against Indian cities. The December 2001 attack on the Indian 149 chapter 5 Parliament by Jaish-e -M ohammed and Lashkar-e - Taiba (two Pakistani- supported militant organi zations), the November 2008 attacks by Lashkar- e- Taiba militants against Mumbai, and the February 2019 Jaish-e -M ohammed suicide attack against Indian security forces in Kashmir are the most prom- inent examples, but Pakistani support for militants operating on Indian ter- ritory has been an increasingly prominent feature of Pakistani foreign pol- icy. In each case, Indian leaders have been deterred from taking large-s cale conventional military action in response.17 Scholars have typically concluded that Pakistani nuclear weapons enable this aggression against India, much as the theory of nuclear opportunism expects. C. Christine Fair argues that nuclear weapons “increase the cost of Indian action” against Pakistan, which facilitates “risk- seeking beh av ior . . . t o change the status quo.”18 For Vipin Narang, Pakistan’s nuclear weapons—a nd the aggressive nuclear posture it has adopted— have “enabled Pakistan to more aggressively pursue long- standing, limited revisionist objectives against India.”19 For Paul Kapur, “nuclear weapons . . . e ncouraged aggressive Pakistani be hav ior.”20 T here is now a broad scholarly consensus that Pakistan uses nuclear weapons in this way.21 Regular statements by Pakistani elites reinforce the conclusion that Pakistan’s nuclear weapons have inhibited Indian responses to Pakistani ag- gression. Jalil Jilani, a high-r anking official within the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, stated that “since Pakistan’s acquisition [of a nuclear capacity], Pak- istan has felt much less threatened” by Indian conventional capabilities.22 Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto stated that Pakistani decision makers had concluded that Pakistan’s “nuclear capability would ensure that India could not launch a conventional war, knowing that it if did, it would turn nuclear.”23 Feroz Khan, a brigadier general (retired) in the Pakistani Army and a for- mer director in the Strategic Plans Division that formulated Pakistan’s nu- clear policy and strategy, has written that Pakistan’s “nuclear capability en- sures defense against physical external aggression and coercion from adversaries, and deters infringement of national sovereignty.”24 Overall, Pakistan appears to conceive of the utility of its nuclear weapons in exactly the way the theory of nuclear opportunism expects: as a tool for advancing its interests against the serious territorial threat posed by India. Pakistani be havi or since acquiring nuclear weapons also seems consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism: it is widely accepted that Pakistan uses nuclear weapons to facilitate both aggression and steadfastness, en- abling Pakistan to both push harder in pursuit of long- held revisionist goals and to stand firmer when challenged. India India’s decades-l ong path to nuclear acquisition stands in marked contrast to Pakistan’s dash to acquire nuclear weapons. India first began pursuing 150 past and f uture prolIferators nuclear technologies in the late 1940s and accelerated its interest in nuclear explosives in the 1960s in the aftermath of its defeat in the 1962 Sino-I ndian war and China’s 1964 nuclear test. Domestic po liti cal dynamics, however, prevented a firm decision to acquire nuclear weapons, and the 1974 test of a “Peaceful Nuclear Explosive” did not lead to an all-o ut effort to weaponize India’s nuclear capability. India ultimately remained a threshold nuclear state until the late 1980s. At this point, Pakistan’s acquisition of nuclear weapons provided the final impetus for Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, a supporter of multilateral nuclear disarmament, to push India’s nuclear program over the finish line and acquire a fully fledged nuclear weapons capability. Although India would not publicly test its nuclear weapons u ntil 1998, it had a func- tional nuclear weapons capability from the late 1980s.25 Because India faced a relatively benign security environment, and with domestic politics driving many key decisions in India’s slow development of nuclear capabilities, it is far from obvious that nuclear weapons would have any significant effect on India’s foreign policy. Despite this, the theory of nuclear opportunism does seem to shed some light on the ways in which Indian foreign policy changed after India acquired nuclear weapons. What predictions does the theory of nuclear opportunism make? First, In- dia did not face serious territorial threats when it weaponized its nuclear capabilities in the late 1980s. Not only does India possess a large territory and considerable strategic depth, but its plausible opponents would face se- rious challenges if they attempted to attack India: Pakistan is convention- ally much weaker than India, while China would have to cross the formi- dable geographic barrier of the Himalayas.26 Second, India did not have a sen ior ally providing for its security when it acquired nuclear weapons: although India had signed the Indo- Soviet Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation with the Soviet Union in 1971, it did not com- mit the Soviet Union to India’s defense. In any case, India’s relationship with the Soviet Union had been deteriorating since the early 1980s, and So- viet leader Mikhail Gorbachev’s “New Thinking” foreign policy indicated that the Soviet Union’s global ambitions and commitments w ere being wound down by the time India acquired nuclear weapons.27 India was, how- ever, rising in relative power by the late 1980s. For example, India’s Corre- lates of War CINC score had been rising consistently since 1980. The theory of nuclear opportunism would therefore predict that Indian elites would see nuclear weapons as a tool for expanding Indian influence in the world and bolstering any existing ju nior allies. In line with these predictions, the desire to expand India’s position and status in the world is widely regarded to have been an impor tant driver of Indian nuclear acquisition. T. V. Paul and Baldev Raj Nayar argue that “a key underl ying reason for the acquisition of nuclear capabilities . . . is the endur- ing and deep-r ooted aspiration of India for the role of a major power, and the related belief that the possession of an in de pen dent nuclear capability is an 151 chapter 5 essential prerequisite for achieving that status.”28 George Perkovich makes a similar argument that Indian leaders w ere not driven t oward nuclear ac- quisition by narrow security threats. Instead, Indian leaders as early as Prime Minister Jawarharlal Nehru and his chief nuclear scientist Homi Bhabha recognized that a “nuclear weapon capability could enhance In- dia’s status and power in the Western- dominated world” and offered a “shortcut” to major power status.29 Vipin Narang concurs, arguing that Bhabha “had a keen interest in India being viewed as a modern scientific state and, like many nuclear scientists of that era, saw the ability to develop nuclear weapons as the pinnacle of scientific achievement.”30 Relatedly, Jacques Hymans argues that Indian leaders have consistently possessed a “nationalist” NIC and have thus held high conceptions of Indian status, with t hese beliefs shaping India’s nuclear decision making in profound ways.31 While a desire to improve its status and standing in the world was cer- tainly a driver of India’s nuclear weapons program, did India actually change its foreign policy in a manner consistent with t hese desires a fter acquiring nuclear weapons? Overall, India’s foreign policies did change in a manner consistent with the predictions of the theory, although it is unclear whether nuclear weapons played a key role in causing the changes. Consistent with the predictions, Indian foreign policy became dramati- cally more ambitious and outward looking as India emerged in the post– Cold War world as a nuclear-a rmed state. This expansion occurred despite the considerable pol itic al and economic turmoil that characterized India at the end of the Cold War, the fact that India emerged from the Cold War fac- ing a more assertive (and newly nuclear armed) Pakistan on its border, and fears that the end of the Cold War would be particularly damaging for In- dia’s geopol itic al position given the collapse of the Soviet Union, its partner since the 1971 treaty. Ross Munro, for example, argued in 1993 that “India’s reach for g reat power status is in shambles. The keystone of Indian power and pretence in the 1980s, the Indo- Soviet link, is history.”32 Despite this po- tentially challenging strategic environment, India’s foreign policy became substantially more ambitious. The shift to a more expansive, ambitious foreign policy had a number of components. First, India initiated the Look East policy—a broad effort to “de- velop po litic al contacts, increas[e] economic integration and forg[e] secu- rity co-o peration with countries of Southeast Asia”— which “marked a shift in India’s perspective of the world.”33 Second, India built diplomatic and military relationships with new allies, including Israel ( after diplomatic re- lations w ere established in 1992), Turkey, and Iran.34 Third, India aggressively pursued economic liberalization and foreign investment, reversing dec ades of socialist economic policy.35 This included devaluing the rupee, raising the ceiling on foreign owner ship, removing import and export controls, and re- ducing business tax rates.36 Fourth, India increased its investment in de- fense. Defense expenditure grew slowly during the 1980s: from 15.9 p ercent 152 past and future prolIferators of government spending in 1980–1981 to 16.9 percent in 1987–1988, but jumped to 19 percent by 1990–1991 despite a severe balance- of-p ayment cri- sis.37 Fifth, Indian participation in international organi zations became more vigorous: increasing engagement and participation in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), making more prominent demands for a permanent seat on the UN Security Council, and playing a considerably larger role in international peacekeeping efforts. India had not participated in any UN peacekeeping missions since sending two infantry brigades to the Congo in the 1960s, but during the 1990s, India sent forces to Cambodia (1992–1993), Mozambique (1992–1994), Somalia (1993–1994), Rwanda (1994– 1996), Angola (1989–1999), and Sierra Leone (1999–2001). Overall, it seems fair to say that India “regained some of its self-c onfidence in the 1990s,” seek- ing to expand its international position and status.38 T hese changes were not, however, obviously driven by nuclear acquisi- tion. Indeed, the massive shift in the international system that occurred close to the same time that India acquired nuclear weapons makes it hard to firmly attribute any change in beh av ior to Indian nuclear weapons. However, In- dia has frequently used its “responsible” stewardship of nuclear weapons as a core component of its efforts to be taken seriously as a legitimate g reat power that contributes to global public goods.39 T hese claims w ere ulti- mately rewarded and legitimized by the 2005 US-I ndia nuclear deal that future secretary of defense Ashton Car ter described as having “openly acknowledged India as a legitimate nuclear power, ending New Delhi’s 30- year quest for such recognition.”40 More broadly, it seems plausible that nuclear weapons—t hrough the psychology- and identity-b ased mecha- nisms discussed in chapter 1— may have changed the way in which Indian leaders conceived of India’s role in international politics, and thus facili- tated the more expansive and ambitious Indian foreign policies of the 1990s. After all, and as discussed above, the desire for greater status and a more prominent position in international politics was a core driver of Indian pur- suit of nuclear weapons and technologies. France France acquired nuclear weapons in a period of considerable uncertainty about its f uture status in the world. A previously g reat power with a large empire, France suffered the humiliation of defeat and occupation by Nazi forces during World War II and required liberation by foreign forces at its conclusion. France entered the Cold War econ omi cally weak, pol itic ally and geog raph ic ally sandwiched between the two superpowers, and fearful of a revived and potentially nuclear-a rmed Germany. In this environment, France made a determined effort to acquire nuclear weapons.41 France established the French Atomic Energy Commission in the aftermath of the war, tested 153 chapter 5 its first nuclear weapon in 1960, and in 1964 acquired the Mirage IV bomb- ers, which offered the delivery capabilities that would allow France to use nuclear weapons militarily.42 What effects does the theory of nuclear opportunism predict that nuclear weapons would have on French foreign policy? First, France did not face im- mediate and severe territorial threats in 1964: while the Soviet Union was certainly a threat, France was sufficiently geo graphi cally removed from the Soviet threat and was protected from the Soviet Union by large numbers of NATO forces (and nuclear weapons) in Germany.43 Second, France had a se- nior ally—t he United States—c ommitted to its security. Third, France was in long-r un po litic al decline. Much as Britain was in the same period, France was in the proc ess of adjusting to its status as a medium-r anked power. This is confirmed by the Correlates of War Proj ect: France’s Correlates of War CINC score had been declining since the mid-1950s and would continue to do so after France acquired nuclear weapons. The theory would therefore predict that France would see nuclear weapons as serving a foreign policy role similar to that of Britain’s nuclear weapons: as a tool to avoid depen- dence on the United States and to maintain its position in international pol- itics. In terms of French beh av ior, the theory anticipates that France would use its nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pen dence from the United States and maintain its status in the world: standing more firmly in defense of the status quo and bolstering its jun ior allies. However, given that France had given up its major colonial possessions prior to 1964 and was not a state on NATO’s front line, core French interests were not being regularly challenged in a way that would allow us to assess w hether France used nuclear weap- ons to facilitate steadfastness. Similarly, because France lacked ju nior allies (France itself, of course, was a ju nior ally in NATO), we should not expect to see France use nuclear weapons to facilitate bolstering. The theory of nu- clear opportunism, therefore, anticipates that France would primarily use nuclear weapons to facilitate in de pend ence from the United States. This is what we see in the historical reco rd. Scholars have consistently identified a desire for both in de pen dence and status as key drivers of the French nuclear program. David Yost begins his analy sis of France’s nuclear program with the statement that “rank and ind ep en dence have been endur- ing occupations of French statecraft.”44 Wolf Mendl agrees that French elites believed that nuclear weapons would allow France “to reassert its ind ep en- dence and position in the world.”45 Pierre Gallois argues that for France, nu- clear weapons w ere “the instrument . . . f or attaining true national military ind ep en dence.”46 And as Wilfred Kohl writes, “The nuclear force was in- trinsically related to [French prime minister Charles de Gaulle’s] pol iti cal goals of ensuring France’s in de pen dence and augmenting France’s freedom of action in world affairs.”47 This scholarly consensus is unsurprising given the many public and pri- vate statements by Charles de Gaulle, the French prime minister from 1958 154 past and f uture prolIferators to 1959 and president from 1959 to 1969, that articulated the need for nu- clear weapons to ensure French ind ep en dence. De Gaulle stated that “Amer- ican nuclear power does not necessarily and immediately meet all the even- tualities concerning France,” meaning that France needed to “equip herself with an atomic force of her own.”48 In 1958, in conversation with John Fos- ter Dulles, de Gaulle argued that “only in this way [through the possession of French nuclear weapons] can our defence and foreign policy be ind ep en- dent, which is something we prize above everyt hing e lse.”49 In public speeches he argued that a state “which does not possess [nuclear weap- ons] . . . does not command its own destiny” and that “the countries which do not have an atomic arsenal . . . have to accept a strategic and consequently a po liti cal dep end en cy.”50 It was not only the United States from which France sought ind e pen dence, but Britain as well: de Gaulle could not accept a situation in which “only the Americans and the British could in fact loose atomic war whenever they wanted.”51 In terms of status, de Gaulle explic- itly argued that the equalizing effect of nuclear weapons would allow France to maintain its status even in a world dominated by the superpowers: “While the megatons that we could launch would not equal in number those which Americans and Rus sians are in a position to unleash, once a certain level of nuclear strength is reached, the proportion of the respective military re- sources is no longer absolute. . . . T hat is why France’s modern armaments not only provide it with incomparable security but inject into a dangerous world a new and power ful factor for prudence and circumspection.”52 Even receiving US assistance that might have imposed conditions on the devel- opment of the program was judged unacceptable: in de Gaulle’s words, such assistance would be “incompatible with [French] sovereignty.”53 However, the belief that nuclear weapons would serve t hese functions was not l imited to de Gaulle and was more widely held among French pol itic al elites. After all, France had taken substantial steps t oward acquiring nuclear weapons well before de Gaulle came to power.54 In the words of Defense Minister Jacques Chaban-D elmas, for example, “We intend to be able to make mod- ern weapons in order to maintain an equitable balance within NATO.”55 Or as the military chief of staff told Premier Pierre Mendès-F rance in 1954, nu- clear weapons would give France “the possibility of recovering a role [in international politics] of first rank.”56 Did France use nuclear weapons to facilitate a more ind e pend ent foreign policy? France had long been uncomfortable with its subordinate position to the United States and Germany within NATO and took steps to preserve some ele ment of ind e pen dence. France pressured the United States for greater influence in NATO decision making and announced that its Medi- terranean fleet would not be subject to NATO command in the event of war. France also demanded that US intermediate range ballistic missile (IRBM) deployments could not occur on French territory and that tactical nuclear weapons could not be kept in France.57 However, as its nuclear program 155 chapter 5 achieved a full deliverable capability, French in de pen dence increased: the French “became less inclined to accept what it saw as the infringements on sovereign choice implied by its role in a U.S.-d ominated alliance.”58 And, in line with these concerns, shortly after acquiring a deliverable nuclear capa- bility, France withdrew from NATO’s command structure. France’s willing- ness to take this dramatic step—in spite of the American anger that resulted— was directly motivated by a desire for greater ind ep end ence within NATO. Furthermore, French leaders saw their ability to take this step as intimately tied to France’s newly developed nuclear capabilities: in Yost’s words, “Mem- bership in NATO’s integrated institutions was portrayed as a subjugation to foreign decisions. . . . S trategic nuclear forces would give France the means of self- reliance and the option of non- belligerency in conflicts.”59 Withdrawal from NATO’s command structure was not the only action that France took after acquiring nuclear weapons. For example, France criticized the Bretton Woods monetary system, actively pursued détente with the So- viet Union, and recognized the status of the PRC: all actions opposed by the United States.60 By the 1970s, French officials were even prepared to make provocative statements about their ability to harm the United States with nuclear weapons. General Guy Méry, the chief of staff of the armed forces, stated that the “damage that we could cause to either superpower would immediately place it in such a situation of imbalance regarding the other su- perpower that it is doubtful that e ither could afford to tolerate suffering that damage at any time.”61 Overall, the way in which nuclear weapons affected French foreign pol- icy appears consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism: French elites saw nuclear weapons as a tool to facilitate ind ep en dence and, consistent with these views, behaved more in dep end ently after acquiring nuclear weapons. Israel Israel’s desire for nuclear weapons emerged from its strategic environment. Since its founding in 1948, Israel has been a geo graph ic ally vulnerable state with a small territory and population, surrounded by more populous neigh- bors with which it has fought numerous wars and which have regularly challenged the legitimacy of Israel’s existence. For a country formed in re- sponse to the Holocaust and the historical persecution of the Jewish people, such vulnerability has added po litic al salience. It is therefore unsurprising that Israel has sought to overcome its vulnerabilities through technological advancement and would seek the protection of nuclear weapons.62 As Israel’s first prime minister David Ben- Gurion stated, “Science can pro- vide us with the weapons that are needed to deter our enemies from wag- ing war against us. I am confident that science is able to provide us with the weapon that will secure the peace, and deter our enemies.”63 When Ben- 156 past and f uture prolIferators Gurion made this statement, Israel was already close to acquiring a nuclear weapon. Israel had been pursuing nuclear technologies since the 1950s and ultimately assembled its first nuclear weapons (deliverable by existing Is- raeli Vautour aircraft) on the eve of the 1967 war.64 Although it is widely understood that Israel possesses nuclear weapons, Israel has never officially acknowledged the existence of its nuclear program or status as a nuclear- armed power. This policy of “opacity” has had mul- tiple drivers: to avoid forcing the United States to pick between its commit- ment to nonproliferation and its alliance with Israel, to reduce the domestic pressures pushing neighboring Arab states to respond by pursuing their own nuclear weapons, to reduce international pressure and sanctions, and to re- tain a source of diplomatic leverage over the United States by being able to threaten the public declaration of its nuclear capabilities. What does the theory of nuclear opportunism predict in the case of Israel? The theory is clear b ecause Israel f aces severe territorial threats. Although Israel has triumphed in the wars it has fought against its Arab neighbors, it nonetheless faced serious threats when it acquired nuclear weapons on the eve of the 1967 war. Although the outcome of the 1967 war—a decisive vic- tory in which Israel seized the Golan Heights, West Bank, Gaza Strip, and Sinai Peninsula—m ay suggest that the threats Israel faced w ere limited, the war could have unfolded very differently. Most notably, Israel’s preemptive attack against the Egyptian army and air force had a profound effect on the way the conflict unfolded.65 Similarly, the manner in which the 1973 war un- folded, in which core Israeli territory was conquered before Israel was able to repel the invaders a fter being resupplied by the United States, demon- strates the vulnerabilities that Israel faced. The theory therefore predicts that Israel would use nuclear weapons to facilitate both aggression and stead- fastness toward the threats it faced. Whether we see this in the historical rec ord is not entirely clear. While the secrecy surrounding Israel’s nuclear program would make a definitive as- sessment of how nuclear weapons affected Israeli foreign policy extremely challenging, it is not clear that nuclear acquisition marked a clear disconti- nuity in Israeli foreign policy. It is pos si ble that Israel’s nuclear weapons em- boldened the state to take aggressive and preemptive military actions that began the 1967 war, but it is equally plausible that it would have taken such actions regardless of its nuclear status. Ultimately, Israel’s decisive victory with conventional forces meant that nuclear weapons did not play an obvi- ous role in the conflict. As Avner Cohen argues, “Ideas [of seeking to gain po litic al leverage from their nuclear weapons], to the extent that some indi- viduals entertained them, apparently never reached discussions at the high- est po liti cal forum.”66 Indeed, in some ways, Israel’s decision to pursue a preemptive conventional military strategy rather than take the g amble of conducting a nuclear test or unsheathing its nuclear capabilities may have indicated a lack of faith in the po litic al power of nuclear weapons. 157 chapter 5 T here is stronger evidence that nuclear weapons provided Israel with po- liti cal benefits in the 1973 Yom Kippur war, facilitating Israeli steadfastness in defense of the status quo. Israeli forces w ere caught off guard by a joint Egyptian and Syrian attack seeking to reclaim the Arab territories lost in the 1967 war, and Israeli forces suffered significant losses of territory and mate- riel in the opening days of the war. An Israeli defeat, previously considered unthinkable, appeared plausible, and Israeli officials feared that Syrian and Egyptian aims might not be limited to merely reclaiming the territory pre- viously lost in the 1967 war. While Prime Minister Golda Meir rejected sug- gestions to explici tly threaten invading forces with nuclear weapons, Min- ister of Defense Moshe Dayan nonetheless ordered an increase in Israel’s nuclear alert level, including operational checks on Israel’s nuclear-c apable Jericho missiles that would be observable by US intelligence.67 These checks played an impor tant role in triggering US efforts to resupply Israel with con- ventional materiel and may have encouraged Syrian and Egyptian restraint, with the Syrian front line retreating rather than seeking to solidify its gains, especially in the northern sector where Syria could plausibly have achieved full control over the Golan Heights.68 Thus, both by restraining the beh avi or of Israel’s opponents and by compelling greater assistance from the United States, nuclear weapons allowed Israel to stand more firmly in defense of the status quo. Since the 1973 war, Israel’s grand strategy has emphasized maintaining conventional military superiority, a policy supported by successive US ad- ministrations that have committed to maintaining Israel’s “qualitative mili- tary edge.”69 Conventional superiority has allowed Israel to stand more firmly in defense of the status quo, and, of course, is intimately related to Israel’s nuclear weapons. Specifically, Israel’s continued and implicit threat to unsheathe its nuclear capabilities provides additional motivation for Washington to ensure that Israel’s conventional military superiority be main- tained.70 Israel, therefore, clearly receives pol iti cal benefits from its nuclear weapons. Nonetheless, it is not clear that Israel has used its nuclear weap- ons to facilitate anything other than steadfastness. While using nuclear weapons to facilitate steadfastness would be pre- dicted by the theory of nuclear opportunism, the theory would also predict Israel using nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression, which we do not see clear evidence for in the historical rec ord. Why might the theory perform less well in this case? It is plausible that factors left out of the theory play an import ant role in the case of Israel. For example, it is poss ib le that the Israeli desire to maintain its relationship with the United States and to avoid pro- voking reactive proliferation by adversaries in the region leads Israel to avoid brandishing its nuclear weapons too overtly, or using its nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression. These two factors would not necessarily be expected to generalize to other cases, and it is reasonable to leave them out of a the- ory that seeks a balance between parsimony and explanatory richness. None- 158 past and future prolIferators theless, the theory of nuclear opportunism receives only mixed and limited support from the case of Israel. China China first tested a nuclear weapon in October 1964 but did not follow the United States and Soviet Union in developing a large nuclear arsenal.71 Al- though China’s desire for nuclear weapons emerged in the aftermath of at- tempted nuclear coercion from the United States during the Korean War and in the 1954 crisis over Quemoy and Matsu, China has never sought to match the nuclear capabilities of either superpower.72 Instead, China’s nuclear ar- senal has remained limited in both qualitative and quantitative terms, or, in the words of Taylor Fravel and Even Medeiros, “small, unsophisticated, and, arguably, highly vulnerable.”73 Chinese leaders have consistently believed that even a small arsenal can threaten sufficiently devastating nuclear retali- ation to deter nuclear coercion and attack, and that a larger and more di- verse arsenal was therefore unnecessary.74 What does the theory of nuclear opportunism predict in the case of China? First, China did not face severe territorial threats when it acquired nuclear weapons. China possessed an enormous territory granting it considerable strategic depth, and an impressive army: even against the might of the So- viet Red Army, China maintained a considerable conventional military ad- vantage along the Sino-S oviet border throughout the 1960s and 1970s that was sufficient to deter and resist any invasion or aggression.75 Second, China did not have an ally committed to its protection: the Sino-S oviet alliance had fractured well before China acquired nuclear weapons. Third, China was ris- ing in power. China’s Correlates of War Proje ct CINC score, for example, has been on an upward trajectory since the 1950s. The theory of nuclear op- portunism would therefore anticipate that China would use nuclear weap- ons to facilitate the expansion of its influence in international politics, stead- fastness in defense of the status quo, and bolstering of ju nior allies. It does not appear, however, that Chinese strategic thinkers have ever thought that nuclear weapons offered China the ability to do much more than deter nuclear coercion by the superpowers (that is, anything beyond facilitating steadfastness).76 As Fravel and Medeiros write, “Mao Zedong and Deng Zioping, [who] had a consistently dominant influence on Chinese nu- clear strategy . . . viewed nuclear weapons, primarily and prob ably exclu- sively, as tools for deterring nuclear aggression and countering coercion.”77 In Mao’s words, “If we don’t want to be bullied, then we cannot do without this thing.”78 Chinese leaders recognized that China required nuclear weap- ons to ensure its security and resist intimidation in an international envi- ronment dominated by two nuclear-a rmed superpowers, but believed that the number of nuclear weapons they needed was small. This view emerged 159 chapter 5 directly from Mao’s view of the importance of manpower rather than tech- nology in determining the outcome of wars. Even as China has sought to modernize its arsenal, this has not reflected a fundamental shift in its un- derstanding of the utility of nuclear weapons. Rather, Chinese moderniza- tion has aimed to maintain the ability to assure retaliation even as adversary capabilities have improved.79 These views are not consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism and accord much more closely with the predictions of the theory of the nu- clear revolution. Chinese leaders do not appear to have viewed nuclear weapons as a broadly useful pol itic al tool, but rather as a capability with very narrow po liti cal utility: resisting nuclear coercion and deterring nuclear attack. As with the case of Israel, it is plausible that factors left out of the theory of nuclear opportunism for reasons of parsimony play an impor tant role in this case. Specifically, the distinctive ideational beliefs about the l imited utility of nuclear weapons held by Mao and other Chinese leaders may have led both to China’s relatively small and vulnerable nuclear force and to a reluctance to use nuclear weapons to achieve broader foreign pol- icy goals. This f actor does not appear to influence the effects of nuclear ac- quisition across a wide range of cases (and is therefore reasonably left out of a theory that aspires to retain parsimony and generalizability) but does appear to play a power ful role in the Chinese case. How Might F uture Proliferators Behave? Although t here are cases that the theory of nuclear opportunism does not explain well, the theory performs well overall. The theory offers a plausible explanation for the way in which the majority of states that have acquired nuclear weapons have both thought about the utility of their nuclear weap- ons and behaved after acquiring them. It is thus reasonable to ask what the theory has to say about the ways in which future proliferators might behave. Specifically, I make predictions for how Iran, South Korea, and Japan would behave if they acquired nuclear weapons. Using the theory in this way demonstrates that it has the poten- tial to offer policy-r elevant insights into the potential beh avi or of f uture nuclear-a rmed states. While such predictions could prove to be wrong, the ability to make ex ante predictions that offer the possibility of falsification is a virtue of the theory. Thus, in addition to being relevant to ongoing policy debates, making such predictions also offers a test of the theory—f or exam- ple, if Japan were to acquire nuclear weapons and engage in diff er ent be- hav iors than t hose predicted, that would provide an indication that the the- ory may be incorrect or require adjustment. Of course, making these predictions requires some assumptions to be made. The theory makes predictions about the ways in which states that ac- 160 past and f uture prolIferators quire nuclear weapons change their beh avi or a fter acquiring nuclear weap- ons.80 This means that one has to be cautious about using the theory to make predictions about countries that currently lack nuclear weapons: such predictions would apply only if that country w ere to acquire nuclear weap- ons. For example, in the context of Iran, the theory would apply only in a world in which Iran has acquired nuclear weapons. Envisaging such a world requires additional assumption—f or example, that the United States has not taken military action to prevent Iran ian nuclear acquisition. If Iran w ere to acquire nuclear weapons, how does the theory of nuclear opportunism anticipate that Ira nian foreign policy would change? The first variable is the existence of serious territorial threats or an ongoing war. Iran does not currently face such threats. The US invasion of Iraq in 2003 removed Iran’s primary threat—S addam Hussein’s Iraq. Of course, the large numbers of US forces on Iran’s borders with Iraq and Af ghani s tan posed a significant territorial threat to Iran, but the subsequent drawdown of US forces in both countries has reduced such dangers. Today, Iran faces weak and internally unstable neighbors that lack power projection capabilities and pose l ittle ter- ritorial threat.81 In addition, despite a long history of intervention by out- side powers that have substantially influenced the outlook of the Iran ian regime and its military forces, Iran retains “extensive natur al defenses” including mountain ranges that encircle much of the country and ensure that “Iran’s periphery favors the defender and is ill- suited to maneuver war- fare.”82 Similarly, while either the United States or Israel could conduct damaging air strikes against Iran, the possibility of either state invading and holding substantial portions of Iran ian territory seems remote.83 Because Iran does not face such threats, the theory does not predict that Iran would find it attractive to use nuclear weapons as a shield b ehind which to facilitate aggression.84 The second variable is w hether Iran possesses a sen ior ally that partially provides for its security. Iran lacks such an ally. While Russ ia and China have offered Iran some diplomatic protection in the face of US sanctions and threats, that diplomatic protection has not been absolute and neither coun- try has the power projection capability to defend Iran militarily in a sustained way. It is unlikely that Iran views e ither country as a patron committed to its security.85 Nonetheless, to the extent that Iran does view Russ ia or China as providing for its military security, the theory anticipates that Iran would use nuclear weapons to facilitate ind e pend ence from t hose patrons. The fi- nal variable is w hether Iran is currently rising in power relative to its pri- mary rivals in the region. Although power trends in the Middle East are no- toriously fickle, it seems hard to argue that Iran is significantly rising in power at the pres ent point in time. While the US withdrawals from Iraq and Afg hani stan have removed a source of threat on Iran’s borders and increased Iran’s relative position in the region, Iran has also suffered unwelcome changes in the balance of power over the past few years (notably, the civil 161 chapter 5 war threatening ally Bashar al- Assad in Syria, the ongoing effect of multi- lateral sanctions on the Iran ian economy, and the rise of the Islamic State). Iran’s economy remains hamstrung by sanctions, high inflation, and unem- ployment and is likely to remain poorly performing even in the event that some portion of the multilateral sanctions currently in place are lifted.86 Iran’s military forces are outdated and poorly maintained. Further, Iran’s defense bud get is small compared with those of its rivals, with Ira nian defense ex- penditure amounting to only a quarter of Saudi Arabia’s.87 The theory of nuclear opportunism therefore anticipates that if Iran w ere to acquire nuclear weapons, it would use them to facilitate the bolstering of its allies and steadfastness in the face of threats. The theory does not predict the precise form such bolstering would take, but it would be reasonable to assume that it might involve increased resource transfers to existing allies such as Syria and Iraq, greater Ira nian efforts to penetrate their domestic pol- itics, and, perhaps, an implicit Iran ian offer of extended deterrence to t hose states. In addition, Iran ian bolstering need not only seek to boost other states. Given Iran’s history of using proxies throughout the Middle East, such be- hav ior might also be observed to a greater extent in its relationships with proxies than in its relationships with other states. Iran could seek to provide additional resources to Hizbullah, increase its influence over Hamas, or pro- vide additional support to the Houthis in Yemen, as well as seeking greater influence over the governments in Baghdad, Damascus, and Sana’a. This pre- diction aligns with the expectations of Erica Borghard and Mira Rapp- Hooper, who predict that a “nuclear armed Iran may increase its support of proxies.”88 The theory of nuclear opportunism thus offers mixed news to t hose con- cerned about how Iran would behave if it acquired nuclear weapons. While the theory suggests that Iran using nuclear weapons to facilitate territorial aggression against its neighbors such as Saudi Arabia or Iraq in the way that Pakistan has is unlikely, the prospect of greater Iran ian bolstering of existing allies is not an outcome that most US policymakers would find reassuring. Greater Ira nian steadfastness, while not actively threatening US interests, would nonetheless reduce US freedom of action in the region. The theory of nuclear opportunism thus offers something of a middle ground between pes- simists and optimists when it comes to Iran ian nuclear acquisition.89 What would the theory predict in the case of US allies such as Japan and South K orea? North Korea’s nuclear advances— specifically, its demonstra- tion in the summer of 2017 of both an intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) capable of hitting the continental United States and a high- yield nuclear weapon ( either a two- stage thermonuclear device or a boosted fission weapon)— have raised doubts about the continued reliability of American extended deterrence. Japa nese and South Korean statesmen might reason- ably question w hether they should rely on American protection in the face of potential North Korean aggression when North K orea can threaten to hold 162 past and future prolIferators US cities at risk of devastating retaliation. Just as Eur o pean allies doubted Amer i ca’s willingness to sacrifice Boston or New York for Bonn or Paris dur- ing the Cold War, US allies in Asia may well become increasingly skeptical of US commitments to sacrifice Seattle or Los Angeles to protect Tokyo or Seoul. If so, just as US allies such as Germany, Taiwan, and Sweden consid- ered pursuing nuclear weapons during the Cold War, US allies may again begin to find nuclear weapons an attractive option. For Japan, the predictions are similar to t hose made for the United King- dom in chapter 2. Japan is protected by highly defensible sea borders, with a substantial buffer between its territory and that of its adversary. While both North Korea and China are seen as adversaries by Japan ese leaders, they do not rise to the level of severe territorial threats. Japan does possess an ally dedicated to its protection (the United States) and is in long- run geopo liti- cal decline thanks to an aging population and vigorously rising powers in the region. The theory of nuclear opportunism therefore predicts that if Ja- pan acquired nuclear weapons, it would use them to facilitate ind e pen dence from the United States and steadfastness in responding to threats (the the- ory would also predict Japan using nuclear weapons to facilitate bolstering of jun ior allies, but Japan does not currently have any alliances in which it is the se nior partner). For South K orea, the more severe threat posed by North K orea’s military capabilities results in the theory of nuclear opportunism making dif fer ent predictions. Much as with the case of Pakistan or Israel, the theory of nu- clear opportunism predicts that South Korea would not seek to use its nu- clear weapons to facilitate in dep en dence from the United States. Rather, South K orea would be more inclined to see nuclear weapons as a tool for improving its position on the Korean peninsula, and to use nuclear weap- ons to facilitate both aggression and steadfastness against North Korea. South K orea would likely respond more vigorously to North Korean prov- ocations and might be more tempted to engage in aggression against North Korea itself, judging that its nuclear arsenal would restrain North Korean retaliation. The theory thus anticipates dif fer ent challenges for US foreign policy if Japan or South Korea were to acquire ind e pen dent nuclear weapons. In the South Korean case, restraining South Korean aggression or retaliation after North Korean provocations may become a key task of US foreign policy, and South Korean nuclear weapons would be expected to lead to a more volatile and violent Korean peninsula. Japan, on the other hand, may be less likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate aggression, but may become a less consistent ally of the United States and more inclined to chart its own course in international politics. In both cases, therefore, the theory of nuclear opportunism provides clear reasons why US policymakers would be concerned about the possibility of proliferation to e ither Japan or South K orea. 163 Conclusion Nuclear Revolution or Nuclear Revolutions? The theory of nuclear opportunism offers an explanation for the way in which states think about and use nuclear weapons in international politics. Nuclear weapons are useful tools that allow a state to pursue a range of for- eign policy goals, and states that acquire nuclear weapons use them in a variety of ways that reflect the differing po litic al priorities and goals that dif- fer ent states have. T hese po litic al priorities, in turn, reflect the dif fere nt strategic circumstances that states find themselves in. The evidence from Britain, South Africa, and the United States, as well as the additional cases examined in chapter 5, largely supports the theory. This chapter summarizes the findings of the book and outlines implications both for our theoreti- cal understanding of nuclear weapons and international politics and for policymakers. Summary of the Findings The small number of cases of nuclear acquisition means that there is inevi- tably uncertainty regarding the interpretation of individual cases and in the strength of the conclusions we can draw about the way in which nuclear weapons affect the foreign policies of the states that acquire them. This un- certainty is exacerbated by the extent to which statesmen (wisely) seek to maintain secrecy around their nuclear weapons and the strategic goals they hope to achieve with them. Nonetheless, the weight of the evidence exam- ined h ere supports the theory of nuclear opportunism. The theory of nuclear opportunism performs well (though certainly not perfectly) across the cases, and performs better than the alternative explanations. In the case of the United Kingdom, from the immediate aftermath of World War II, British elites viewed nuclear weapons as a solution to two fundamen- tal po liti cal prob lems they faced: the probl em of dependence on the United 164 conclusIon States, and the prob lem of maintaining Britain’s position in the world de- spite Britain facing long-r un economic (and thus po liti cal) decline. Britain therefore found pursuing ind e pend ence from the United States, bolstering its ju nior allies, and standing more firmly in the face of challenges to its po- sition to be attractive, and Britain used nuclear weapons to facilitate t hose beh avi ors. A fter acquiring a deliverable nuclear capability in 1955, Britain was able to bolster its allies in Asia, the Middle East, and Eu rope, and re- sponded to challenges to its position more steadfastly and ind ep end ently of the preferences of the United States, despite sim ul tan eously cutting back on its conventional forces over the same period. T hese outcomes are consis- tent with the predictions of nuclear opportunism for a state in Britain’s po- sition: not facing severe territorial threats or involved in a war but constrained by a se nior ally and declining in power. The way in which South African elites thought about and used their nu- clear weapons was dramatically diff ere nt from the way in which the British had done some twenty years earlier. South African elites viewed nuclear weapons as a partial solution to the constraints posed by fears of escalation in South Africa’s conduct of the Border War in Angola. South African elites were deeply fearful of escalation and the potential for further Soviet involve- ment in the conflict, and saw nuclear weapons as a tool that allowed them to reduce those risks. As a result, after acquiring nuclear weapons, South Af- rican tolerance for escalation in the Border War increased and South Africa became more willing to act aggressively in the conflict, taking actions that South African elites had previously avoided due to the risk of escalation that they posed. South Africa did not use nuclear weapons to engage in the other foreign policy beh avi ors that nuclear weapons facilitate, an outcome largely consistent with the theory of nuclear opportunism for a state facing serious threats and involved in an ongoing war. The United States offers the most complex case, and the one in which the precise predictions of the theory of nuclear opportunism are hardest to val- idate. In part this is b ecause the enormously complex and changing inter- national environment in the aftermath of World War II makes distinguishing between the diff er ent foreign policy beh av iors in the typology more chal- lenging than in the other two cases. Even in this case, however, the theory of nuclear opportunism outperforms the alternative explanations. Nuclear ac- quisition substantially affected US foreign policy, but did so differently during World War II and in its aftermath. As a state in the midst of a brutal war, the United States first used nuclear weapons to escalate the conflict and win the war against Japan. Within the typology advanced by this book, this is best characterized as aggression, although there are also ways in which US nuclear weapons facilitated compromise over the terms of Japa- nese surrender and ind e pend ence from the Soviet Union in the final days of the war. In the aftermath of World War II, the United States did not face severe territorial threats and was rising in power. The United States placed 165 conclusIon nuclear weapons at the heart of its foreign policy in the immediate aftermath of World War II, using nuclear weapons to facilitate beh av iors that combined expansion, aggression, and steadfastness, as well as bolstering its allies. Nu- clear weapons allowed the United States to engage in a rapid conventional demobilization while pursuing an ambitious g rand strategy: maintaining a forward posture, seeking to bolster existing allies and take on new ones, re- sisting and deterring Soviet encroachments, and g oing beyond a purely de- fensive model of containment in its dealings with the Soviet Union. The theory thus receives validation, performing well in explaining t hese cases in absolute terms and relative to the alternative explanations. Chap- ter 5 also shows the theory’s ability to shed light on the be havi or of many (though not all) of the other states to have acquired nuclear weapons, and makes clear predictions for how potential f uture proliferators would behave if they were to acquire nuclear weapons. The empirical evidence validates the broader view of nuclear weapons envisaged by the theory of nuclear op- portunism. Pol itic al and military elites have generally viewed nuclear weapons as tools that enable them to pursue and protect their preexisting pol iti cal interests and ambitions. Nuclear weapons w ere employed pragmat- ically in the ser vice of those po litic al priorities. Ave nues for F uture Research The book opens a number of ave nues for future research. First, the argument made here is in many ways a simple one: states are viewed as unitary actors and only three binary variables (of which none in- corporates features of the domestic politics of the state) are used to explain variation in outcomes. This is obviously a simplification of a much more complex real ity. There may be ways to add additional explanatory power to the theory by adding additional complexity that f uture research could ex- plore. For example, there may be ways to incorporate the role of individual leaders’ ideas about nuclear weapons, a factor that—as discussed in chap- ter 5—c learly appears to be impor tant in explaining the way in which Chi- nese leaders have thought about the utility of nuclear weapons.1 Similarly, norms about the acceptability of nuclear use have changed dramatically over the nuclear era and may have influenced the effects that nuclear weapons have had in dif fer ent eras.2 Last, dif fere nt domestic po liti cal arrangements may influence the effects that nuclear weapons have. For example, nuclear weapons may have dif fer ent effects in cases where the military controls the state’s nuclear weapons compared with states in which civilians retain con- trol of nuclear weapons.3 Similarly, the theory ignores the possibility of strategic interaction, and particularly, the possibility that other states can take actions to reduce the benefits that states receive from acquiring nuclear weapons. As it stands, the 166 conclusIon theory is choice theoretic rather than game theoretic or strategic: according to the theory, states that acquire nuclear weapons make decisions about how to use nuclear weapons without considering the actions that other states may take.4 As discussed in chapter 1, this is a justifiable simplification that should bias us against observing evidence of the effect of nuclear weapons (if other states can take actions to mitigate the effects that nuclear weapons have, we should be less likely to observe a change in foreign policy beh avi or at the point of nuclear acquisition). Nonetheless, it ignores a potentially import ant dynamic that f uture work could incorporate. In short, the theory described here provides a baseline that future research can add qualifications and nu- ance to in order to enhance its ability to explain the full range of variation we observe. Second, there may be opportunities to generalize the argument made here. Do other military capabilities facilitate the same range of foreign policy be- havi ors as nuclear weapons? If not, what are the characteristics of military technologies that lead them to facilitate part ic ul ar beh av iors? Similarly, does the theory shed light on the way in which states respond to other endoge- nous increases (that is, increases that the state chooses to invest in) in their power and military capabilities? Both the typology and the theory may have broader applicability, and the extent to which the theory travels to other cir- cumstances may have import ant insights for exactly what is special or un- usual about nuclear weapons. Fi nally, the research design that this study employed focused on the ef- fects of nuclear weapons at the point of acquisition and offered only rela- tively brief evidence in each case to suggest that t hese effects have endured over time. This was justified given the lack of existing work on the question of how nuclear weapons affect state foreign policy, the research design ad- vantages of focusing on the point of nuclear acquisition, and the fact that policymakers care particularly about the immediate effects of nuclear acqui- sition. Nonetheless, it represents an impor tant opportunity for future re- search. It would be productive for future research to examine in more detail why and to what extent the effects of nuclear weapons do indeed endure over time, and what, if anything, can cause states to fundamentally reevalu- ate the way in which they use their nuclear weapons to support their for- eign policy goals. Implications for Scholars The book offers a number of implications for scholars of international poli- tics and nuclear weapons. The argument made here offers a new way of thinking about nuclear weapons that is at odds with the dominant theory of the nuclear revolution, and thus contributes to a growing body of work challenging vario us aspects 167 conclusIon of the theory of the nuclear revolution.5 While the theory of the nuclear rev- olution offers a power ful explanation for the absence of great power war since 1945, the po litic al judgment within it about how states respond to the security provided by nuclear weapons appears flawed. The theory of the nuclear revolution is correct that nuclear weapons are a revolutionary capa- bility in terms of the destructive power that they offer to states, and that they are therefore a powerf ul deterrent against aggression. However, the theory of the nuclear revolution errs in its po litic al judgment about how states re- spond to those capabilities. Nuclear weapons do not cause states to worry less about their own security, do not reduce states’ inclination to compete vigorously with each other, and do not tamp down states’ ambitions in in- ternational politics. Instead, states use nuclear weapons in serv ice of their preexisting po liti cal goals, and nuclear weapons are often useful in pursuit of t hose goals. Statesmen appear to view nuclear weapons in a pol iti cal, pragmatic, and opportunistic manner: nuclear weapons can facilitate a range of foreign policy be hav iors, and states seek to take advantage of this to pur- sue their po litic al goals. This vision of nuclear weapons is in some ways both more and less revo- lutionary than that implied by the theory of the nuclear revolution. It is less revolutionary in that it suggests nuclear weapons transform international politics or the preferences of states to a lesser degree than advocates of the theory of the nuclear revolution believe. Instead, nuclear weapons are in- corporated into the practice of international politics and are used by states to pursue the po litic al goals and aspirations that they found attractive be- fore nuclear acquisition. Politics remains king, even in a nuclear-a rmed world. In other ways, however, the theory of nuclear opportunism views nuclear weapons as more revolutionary than the theory of the nuclear revo- lution. Specifically, the theory of nuclear opportunism views nuclear weap- ons as having much broader pol itic al utility than the theory of the nuclear revolution suggests. While the theory of the nuclear revolution views nu- clear weapons as being primarily useful for deterring nuclear attack or re- sisting nuclear coercion, the theory of nuclear opportunism views nuclear weapons as facilitating a wide range of foreign policy goals that a range of states may find attractive. Nuclear weapons, in short, may transform a state’s foreign policy in a more profound way than the theory of the nuclear revo- lution anticipates, but transform international politics less than the theory of the nuclear revolution expects. Similarly, the book therefore offers a way for scholars to make sense of the heterogeneity in the way in which states have responded to nuclear acquisi- tion. This heterogeneity has largely been missed or assumed away by the theory of the nuclear revolution, which argues that nuclear weapons should have a consistent effect across all states b ecause of the technological charac- teristics of the weapons which make nuclear weapons easy to hide and pro- tect, hard to defend against, and enormously destructive. However, because 168 conclusIon states occupy profoundly dif fer ent positions in international politics and have profoundly dif fer ent pol itic al priorities, the ways in which nuclear ac- quisition affects the foreign policies of acquiring states vary tremendously. There has not been one nuclear revolution. Instead, each nuclear-a rmed state has discovered the revolutionary capabilities that nuclear weapons offer and used them to pursue its own interests: each state, in short, has experienced its own nuclear revolution. The typology and theory offered h ere allow scholars to identify and understand the dif fer ent effects that nuclear weap- ons have, and thus to make sense of the variety and nuance that we see in the historical reco rd.6 The argument also has implications for other scholarly debates about nu- clear weapons. First, the book has implications for debates about the causes of prolifera- tion. In part ic u lar, it suggests we should expand our assessment of the range of states that may find nuclear weapons attractive. For example, since the end of the Cold War, it has become increasingly common for scholars to think of nuclear weapons as “weapons of the weak” or “the great equalizer,” im- plying that nuclear weapons are only useful for conventionally weak states seeking to deter the United States.7 It is certainly true that conventionally weak states gain from the acquisition of nuclear weapons b ecause of their l imited conventional capabilities. But it is not just weak or “rogue” states that may find nuclear weapons attractive. Since the dawn of the nuclear age, powerf ul states have regularly sought and benefited from the acquisition of nuclear weapons. The typology and theory offered in this book shed light on why this is and why it may continue in the f uture. Nuclear weapons can facilitate foreign policy beh av iors that conventionally powerf ul states are likely to find extremely attractive, such as expansion or the bolstering of al- lies. It should not, therefore, be surprising that states have sometimes seen nuclear weapons as “status symbols,” or that powerf ul states have often sought to acquire them, or that conventionally powerf ul and nuclear- armed states t oday show little interest in relinquishing their nuclear arsenals. Nu- clear weapons are not simply a relic of the Cold War, and many states today continue to find nuclear weapons useful for pursuing their goals in interna- tional politics. However, if we expand our assessment of the states that may find nuclear acquisition attractive, the book also points to the reasons why few states have acquired nuclear weapons despite their utility. In part ic u lar, the book offers a theoretical foundation for scholarship that emphasizes the role of the United States in preventing proliferation to both allies and adversaries.8 The argument here provides a theoretical justification for why the United States would place significant priority on the goal of nonproliferation. While the theory of the nuclear revolution suggests that proliferation should not be es- pecially concerning to the United States,9 the theory of nuclear opportun- ism recognizes that proliferation—w hether to adversaries or to states with 169 conclusIon which the United States has alliances—h as the potential to harm the inter- ests of the United States. Indeed, it is US policymakers’ recognition of the benefits that nuclear weapons offer to states that has led the United States to seek to prevent proliferation. Adversaries of the United States can use nu- clear weapons in a variety of ways that would harm the interests of the United States: to facilitate aggression against the United States or its allies, to better resist challenges from the United States, or to bolster their own al- lies. Further, even allies of the United States can use nuclear weapons in a range of ways that are inimical to US interests: allies can use nuclear weap- ons to become more in de pen dent from the United States and thus harder for the United States to control, to engage in aggression, or to pursue other be hav iors that may draw the United States into conflicts it would rather avoid. The argument here, therefore, provides a theoretical justification for the United States’ relative consistency in pursuing nonproliferation, and the importance that nonproliferation has historically played within US grand strategy. Second, the argument h ere in some way reinforces, but also challenges, the notion of the “stability-i nstability paradox.” As traditionally conceived, the stability- instability paradox provides an addendum to the theory of the nuclear revolution. The paradox points out that the high levels of strategic stability created by mutual assured destruction may lead to reduced stabil- ity at lower levels: if escalation to nuclear war is unthinkable, it paradoxi- cally becomes safer to engage in lower- level conflict.10 In some ways, the ar- gument here is consistent with the paradox: mutual assured destruction is not necessarily an impediment to lower- level conflict because states do not respond to nuclear weapons in the way the theory of the nuclear revolution expects. However, the logic is diff ere nt from that which underpins the stability- instability paradox: states can compete at lower levels even in the shadow of nuclear weapons in the same way that they compete in a non- nuclear world, b ecause nuclear weapons do not fundamentally change the nature of international politics. In an anarchic system in which states have differing and competing interests, conflict is always pos si ble, even if nuclear weapons make such conflict deeply dangerous. The low- level conflict and crises that we see between nuclear- armed states, and that the stability- instability paradox identifies as an anomaly for the theory of the nuclear revolution, may simply be standard international politics between states competing for influence, territory, and security. Third, the argument h ere offers a way to move beyond debates about w hether nuclear weapons are “useful” to states in international crises, and the s imple dichotomy between whether nuclear weapons are useful for com- pellence and w hether they are useful solely for deterrence.11 The argument offered here clearly views nuclear weapons as po liti cally useful weapons, and thus is not consistent with arguments that view nuclear weapons as be- ing of limited use to states beyond offering the ability to deter.12 However, 170 conclusIon the theory also offers a more complex interpretation of the role nuclear weap- ons play in both the instigation and the resolution of crises than that offered by scholars who argue that nuclear weapons offer states clear advantages in crises.13 By shifting the analytic focus to foreign policy, and demonstrat- ing the diff ere nt foreign policy beh avi ors that nuclear weapons can facili- tate, the argument here shows the ways in which nuclear weapons may af- fect how crises occur and play out in complex ways. For example, nuclear weapons have may have encouraged Britain to instigate crises that it was not well equipped to prevail in. Such a position would be hard to capture in a s imple debate over w hether nuclear weapons are helpful in crises. Similarly, the argument h ere allows analysts to make sense of episodes that contain elem ents of both deterrence and compellence. For example, the way in which nuclear weapons facilitated US be havi or in the postwar period is hard to capture within the compellence-deterrence dichotomy. Was the US decision to extend nuclear deterrence to states in Eur ope, Asia, and Austral- asia an effort to deter attacks against these allies? An effort to compel adver- saries of these states to back down? An effort to deter allies from acquiring their own nuclear weapons? An effort to compel o thers to accept US domi- nance of the postwar world order? By focusing on the ways in which nu- clear weapons facilitate par ticu l ar beh avi ors, rather than compellence or de- terrence, the argument h ere allows for a more nuanced assessment of the ways in which states use nuclear weapons to achieve their goals in interna- tional politics. Fourth, the analy sis demonstrates the importance of looking beyond the possession of nuclear weapons in understanding their po liti cal effects. In- stead, it is the state’s nuclear posture that determines the technological threshold at which nuclear weapons begin to affect state calculations about foreign policy. For example, although Britain first tested a nuclear weapon in 1952, it was only with the acquisition of a deliverable capability in 1955 that nuclear weapons began to influence British foreign policy. Despite this, po litic al scientists tend to emphasize a country’s first nuclear test as indicat- ing the point at which the effects of nuclear weapons should be observed.14 This approach may generate misleading inferences, because nuclear weap- ons may not necessarily begin to influence a state’s foreign policy at the point at which a country first tests a device. Implications for Policymakers The argument also has implications for policymakers thinking about nuclear proliferation and disarmament. First, substantial traction on the effects of nuclear weapons can be gained by using a more discriminating conceptual language. “Emboldenment” is a con ve nient catch-a ll term, but it conflates conceptually distinct beh av iors and 171 conclusIon misses other effects that nuclear weapons may have. Policymakers through- out the nuclear age have often expressed broad and generic concerns about the emboldening effects of nuclear weapons, but have often failed to think in detail about the precise beh av iors that nuclear weapons may facilitate.15 T hese distinctions are import ant b ecause not all emboldening effects are equally concerning to policymakers. Both aggression and steadfastness may be considered emboldening effects, but, for example, a nuclear- armed Iran that displays greater steadfastness is likely less concerning to US policy- makers than a nuclear-a rmed Iran that pursues aggression. The typology offered h ere provides policymakers with a conceptual language with which to more precisely specify the concerns associated with par ticu l ar potential proliferants. Second, the theory offers policymakers a tool with which to make an ini- tial assessment of the relative likelihood of diff er ent outcomes that may oc- cur if par ticu lar states acquire nuclear weapons. The theory suggests, for example, that diff er ent US allies might respond to nuclear acquisition in dif fere nt ways that would have dif fer ent implications for US foreign policy. The theory suggests, for example, that the United States should be more wor- ried by South Korea acquiring nuclear weapons than by Japan doing so. Similarly, the theory suggests that Iran ian nuclear acquisition is more likely to lead to certain beh av iors (such as bolstering of allies) than o thers (such as aggression). This is not to suggest that policymakers should not prepare for the possibility of Ira nian aggression in the aftermath of nuclear acquisition— policymakers correctly prepare for a wide range of unlikely contingencies. Nonetheless, the theory has the potential to guide policymakers as they as- sess which outcomes are more likely, and help policymakers as they decide how to dedicate finite military and po liti cal resources to dif fere nt contingen- cies. In this way, the theory can potentially help to refine, adjust, or provide a more solid intellectual foundation for policymakers’ prior beliefs about the likelihood of dif fer ent outcomes in a given case of proliferation. Fin ally, the argument suggests that making substantial prog ress toward nuclear disarmament is likely to be difficult, and sheds light on the limited pro gress that the nuclear- armed states have made toward that goal. If nu- clear weapons w ere merely vestiges of the Cold War, or if states simply wanted to possess nuclear weapons out of a misplaced belief that nuclear weapons confer great power status, then nuclear abolition would seem an achievable task: statesmen would simply need to be educated about the dis- utility of nuclear weapons. This book suggests, by contrast, that states that acquire nuclear weapons view them as useful for achieving foreign policy goals that they deem impor tant and do in fact use nuclear weapons to fa- cilitate a wide range of foreign policy be hav iors. If so, nuclear- armed states will generally be less inclined to relinquish an impor tant source of pol iti cal power. Just as states do not typically give up other tools with which they can achieve their foreign policy goals— their militaries, intelligence ser vices, 172 conclusIon diplomatic corps, and so on— nuclear- armed states will also be generally dis- inclined to give up their nuclear weapons. The argument of this book is that nuclear weapons facilitate foreign policy beh av iors that a range of states find attractive, and help states achieve foreign policy goals that they value. If so, nuclear weapons are likely here to stay. Managing the risks that they pose w ill continue to be a central challenge for policymakers for some time to come. 173 Notes Acknowle dgments 1. Mark S. Bell, “Beyond Emboldenment: How Acquiring Nuclear Weapons Can Change For- eign Policy,” International Security 40, no. 1 (2015): 87–119; Mark S. Bell, “Nuclear Opportunism: A Theory of How States Use Nuclear Weapons in International Politics,” Journal of Strategic Studies 42, no. 1 (2019): 3–28; Noel Anderson and Mark S. Bell, “The Limits of Regional Power: South Africa’s Security Strategy, 1975–1989,” Journal of Strategic Studies, forthcoming. Introduction 1. “Likelihood and Consequences of a Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons Systems (National Intelligence Estimate 4–63),” June 28, 1963, National Security Archive (NSA) Electronic Briefing Book 155, document 8. 2. Matthew Kroenig, A Time to Attack: The Looming Iran ian Nuclear Threat (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014), 133–134. 3. Barry R. Posen, A Nuclear-A rmed Iran: A Difficult but Not Impossible Policy Probl em (New York: Century Foundation, 2006), 12–13. 4. For example, S. Paul Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent: Nuclear Weapons Proliferation and Con- flict in South Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2007); Vipin Narang, “Posturing for Peace? Pakistan’s Nuclear Postures and South Asian Stability,” International Security 34, no. 3 (2009–2010): 38–78. 5. Impor tant works articulating or reinforcing the theory of the nuclear revolution include Bernard Brodie, ed., The Absolute Weapon: Atomic Power and World Order (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1946); Bernard Brodie, Strategy in the Missile Age (Princet on, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1959); Bernard Brodie, “The Development of Nuclear Strategy,” International Security 2, no. 4 (1978): 65–83; Robert Jervis, “Why Nuclear Superiority D oesn’t M atter,” Po liti cal Science Quarterly 94, no. 4 (1979): 617–633; Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Spread of Nuclear Weapons: More May Be Better,” Adelphi Papers 21, no. 171 (1981): 1–32; Shai Feldman, Israeli Nuclear Deterrence: A Strategy for the 1980s (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982); Charles L. Glaser, “Why Even Good Defenses May Be Bad,” International Security 9, no. 2 (1984): 92–123; Robert Jervis, The Meaning of the Nuclear Revolution: Statecraft and the Prospects of Armageddon (Ithaca, NY: Cornell 175 notes to pages 3–5 University Press, 1989); Charles L. Glaser, “Why Do Strategists Disagree about the Require- ments of Strategic Nuclear Deterrence?,” in Nuclear Arguments: Understanding the Strategic Nu- clear Arms and Arms Control Debates, ed. Lynn Eden and Steven E. Miller (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989): 109–171; Charles L. Glaser, Analyzing Strategic Nuclear Policy (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1990); Kenneth N. Waltz, “Nuclear Myths and Po liti cal Reali- ties,” American Po liti cal Science Review 84, no. 3 (1990): 730–745; Stephen Van Evera, Causes of War: Power and the Roots of Conflict (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1999); Charles L. Gla- ser and Steve Fetter, “National Missile Defense and the F uture of U.S. Nuclear Weapons Pol- icy,” International Security 26, no. 1 (2001): 40–92. 6. F or example, Brodie, Absolute Weapon, 24; Waltz, “Nuclear Myths and Po litic al Realities,” 732. 7. Van Evera, Causes of War, 246. 8. Charles L. Glaser, “When Are Arms Races Dangerous? Rational versus Suboptimal Arming,” International Security 28, no. 4 (2004): 75. 9. In the language of international relations theory, the theory of the nuclear revolution builds on defensive realist assumptions. For broader theoretical arguments by proponents of the theory of the nuclear revolution who argue that security is the first goal of states, see Robert Jervis, “Cooperation u nder the Security Dilemma,” World Politics 30, no. 2 (1978): 167–214; Ken- neth N. Waltz, Theory of International Politics (Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press, 1979); Van Evera, C auses of War; Charles L. Glaser, Rational Theory of International Politics: The Logic of Competition and Cooperation (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 2010). 10. Feldman, Israeli Nuclear Deterrence, 45. 11. Barry R. Posen and Stephen Van Evera, “Defense Policy and the Reagan Administration: Departure from Containment,” International Security 8, no. 1 (1983): 33; Van Evera, C auses of War, 245. 12. J ervis, Meaning of the Nuclear Revolution, 35–36; Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Emerging Structure of International Politics,” International Security 18, no. 2 (1993): 73. 13. G laser, Analyzing Strategic Nuclear Policy, 361. 14. Waltz, “Nuclear Myths and Po litic al Realities,” 739. 15. J ervis, Meaning of the Nuclear Revolution, 45. 16. Jervis, Meaning of the Nuclear Revolution, 42; Waltz, “Emerging Structure of International Politics,” 73. 17. V an Evera, C auses of War, 244. 18. Scott D. Sagan and Kenneth N. Waltz, The Spread of Nuclear Weapons: A Debate Renewed (New York: W. W. Norton, 2003), 39. 19. Robert Jervis, The Illogic of American Nuclear Strategy (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1984), 13, 147; Charles L. Glaser and Steve Fetter, “Should the United States Reject MAD? Damage Limitation and U.S. Nuclear Strategy t oward China,” International Security 41, no. 1 (2016): 50. 20. S . Paul Kapur, “India and Pakistan’s Unstable Peace: Why Nuclear South Asia Is Not Like Cold War Eu rope,” International Security 30, no. 2 (2005): 127–152; Kapur, Dangerous Deter- rent; S. Paul Kapur, “Ten Years of Instability in a Nuclear South Asia,” International Security 33, no. 2 (2008): 71–94. For other accounts of the circumstances in which nuclear acquisition leads to aggression, see T. Negeen Pegahi, “Dangerous Deterrent? Assessing the Risk That Nuclear Acquisition Will Embolden Weak States” (PhD diss., University of Chicago, 2013); Michael D. Cohen, When Proliferation Causes Peace: The Psy chol ogy of Nuclear Crises (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2017); Christopher J. Watterson, “Armed and Insecure: Explain- ing Foreign Policy Aggression a fter Nuclear Weapons Acquisition” (PhD diss., University of Sydney, 2017). 21. This label mirrors Keir Lieber’s theory of “technological opportunism,” which similarly emphasizes the primacy of politics in conditioning the effects of technologies on international politics. Keir A. Lieber, War and the Engineers: The Primacy of Politics over Technology (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005). 176 notes to pages 9–14 1. Nuclear Opportunism 1. T his definition of g rand strategy comes from Barry R. Posen, The Sources of Military Doc- trine: France, Britain, and Germany between the World Wars (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1984), 7. See also Hal Brands, What Good Is Grand Strategy? Power and Purpose in American State- craft from Harry S. Truman to George W. Bush (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2014), 1. 2. Thomas C. Schelling, Arms and Influence (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1966), 19–20. 3. Thomas C. Schelling, The Strategy of Conflict (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1960), chap. 8. 4. F or example, Vipin Narang argues that a “catalytic” nuclear posture is particularly well suited to encouraging interventions by friendly third parties. Vipin Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era: Regional Powers and International Conflict (Princet on, NJ: Princet on University Press, 2014). 5. F or analyses of how institutional and bureaucratic dynamics affect w hether states ac- quire nuclear weapons, see James J. Walsh, “Bombs Unbuilt: Power, Ideas and Institutions in International Politics” (PhD diss., Mas sa chu setts Institute of Technology, 2001); Jacques E. C. Hymans, “Veto Players, Nuclear Energy, and Nonproliferation: Domestic Institutional Barriers to a Japa nese Bomb,” International Security 36, no. 2 (2011): 154–189; Jacques E. C. Hymans, Achieving Nuclear Ambitions: Scientists, Politicians, and Proliferation (New York: Cambridge Uni- versity Press, 2012). 6. F or example, Timothy D. Hoyt, “Kargil: The Nuclear Dimension,” in Asymmetric Warfare in South Asia: The Causes and Consequences of the Kargil Conflict, ed. Peter R. Lavoy (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 153. 7. F or example, Jacques E. C. Hymans, The Psy chol ogy of Nuclear Proliferation: Identity, Emotions and Foreign Policy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006). 8. M emo on Atomic Research from Lord Cherwell to Mr. Churchill, August 6, 1950, Churchill Archives, Cambridge, United Kingdom (CHUR) 2/28/45–51. 9. O n se lection effects in international relations, see, for example, James Fearon, “Sel ection Effects and Deterrence,” International Interactions 28, no. 1 (2002): 5–29. 10. The most obvious would be the presence of a “nuclear taboo,” which should make nu- clear use less credible and thus lead nuclear weapons to have a limited effect on a state’s for- eign policy. See Nina Tannenwald, The Nuclear Taboo: The United States and the Non-u se of Nu- clear Weapons since 1945 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008). 11. Hymans, Psy cholo gy of Nuclear Proliferation, 2. For a similar argument that it is a highly unusual group of states that ultimately acquire nuclear weapons, see Maria Rost Rublee, Non- proliferation Norms: Why States Choose Nuclear Restraint (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2009). 12. It is worth clarifying that the typology identifies beh av iors rather than the goals that a state may be aiming to achieve by engaging in the beh avi or. This is import ant because foreign policy be havi ors are far easier to observe than the goals or motivations underl ying them. For example, the typology avoids the need for difficult assessments of whether a state is ultimately security seeking or revisionist in order to identify whether it is engaging in aggression. The ty- pology distinguishes between diff ere nt beh avi ors and is agnostic about the goals that states may ultimately have in pursuing t hose beh avi ors. Nonetheless, this is worth emphasizing b ecause the language of the typology has the potential to cause confusion; for example, a state may engage in aggression but nonetheless ultimately have status quo preferences (that is, the state may not have what might be called “aggressive” preferences or goals). Equally, a state may engage in expansion or bolstering for “aggressive” reasons but not engage in the beh av ior that I label as “aggression.” 13. S. Paul Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent: Nuclear Weapons Proliferation and Conflict in South Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2007); Vipin Narang, “Posturing for Peace? Pakistan’s Nuclear Postures and South Asian Stability,” International Security 34, no. 3 (2009–2010): 38–78; 177 notes to pages 14–21 C. Christine Fair, Fighting to the End: The Pakistan Army’s Way of War (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014). 14. Fair, Fighting to the End, 203. 15. Hal Brands and David Palkki, “Saddam, Israel, and the Bomb: Nuclear Alarmism Justi- fied?,” International Security 36, no. 1 (2011): 133–166. 16. For example, Jack Snyder, Myths of Empire: Domestic Politics and International Ambition (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991), 1. 17. W hile it may sometimes be challenging to empirically distinguish expansion from ag- gression, this does not affect the importance of the conceptual distinction between the two be hav iors. 18. The role of nuclear weapons in facilitating postwar US grand strategy is discussed in de- tail in chapter 4. 19. David Holloway, Stalin and the Bomb: The Soviet Union and Atomic Energy, 1939–1956 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996), 276. 20. Mark S. Bell and Nicholas L. Miller, “Questioning the Effect of Nuclear Weapons on Con- flict,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 59, no. 1 (2015): 74–92. 21. On the distinction between internal and external forms of balancing, see Kenneth N. Waltz, Theory of International Politics (Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press, 1979), 168. While I use the language of “alliance,” this theoretical mechanism is not dependent on the alliance being formal or codified in any way: a state may implicitly provide for the security of another state, and the value of that security may be changed by nuclear acquisition, even if the relationship is not codified in an alliance. 22. This is not to say that the alliance becomes of no value to the state; indeed, it may still be extremely valuable for a range of reasons. It is just to say that its value is reduced upon nuclear acquisition. 23. Philip H. Gordon, “Charles de Gaulle and the Nuclear Revolution,” in Cold War States- men Confront the Bomb: Nuclear Diplomacy since 1945, ed. John Lewis Gaddis (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 234; Wilfrid L. Kohl, French Nuclear Diplomacy (Princet on, NJ: Prince- ton University Press, 1971). 24. Dick K. Nanto and Mark E. Manyin, “China–N orth Korea Relations,” North Korean Re- view 7, no. 2 (2011): 97; Jonathan D. Pollack, “China’s North K orea Conundrum: How to Balance a Three Legged Stool,” Yale Global Online, 2009, https://y aleglobal . yale. e du /c ontent/ c hinas - north - korea- c onundrum- how - balance -t hree- l egged- s tool; Jonathan D. Pollack, No Exit: North Korea, Nuclear Weapons, and International Security (London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, 2011), 105. 25. As in the discussion of in de pen dence, the alliance does not need to be formalized or cod- ified. Nuclear weapons can facilitate the bolstering of another state even if that state is not a formal ally. 26. Matthew Kroenig, Exporting the Bomb: Technology Transfer and the Spread of Nuclear Weap- ons (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2010). 27. Feroz Hassan Khan, Eating Grass: The Making of the Pakistani Bomb (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2012), 188. 28. K roenig, Exporting the Bomb. 29. Khan, Eating Grass, 207. See also Fair, Fighting to the End, 221. 30. See, for example, Kenneth A. Oye, “Explaining the End of the Cold War: Morphological and Behavioral Adaptations to the Nuclear Peace,” in International Relations Theory and the End of the Cold War, ed. Richard Ned Lebow and Thomas Risse- Kappen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 78. 31. S hai Feldman, Israeli Nuclear Deterrence: A Strategy for the 1980s (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982). 32. F or similarly structured theories, see Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era; Vipin Narang, “Strategies of Nuclear Proliferation: How States Pursue the Bomb,” International Secu- rity 41, no. 3 (2017): 110–150. 33. The theory thus leaves aside a range of f actors, including international norms, domestic po liti cal institutions, and features of individual leaders. This is not to suggest that such factors 178 notes to pages 22–28 are of no importance, just that any theory is necessarily a simplification of a more complex reali ty. 34. The theory therefore predicts that states facing severe territorial threats or involved in an ongoing war are likely to use nuclear weapons to facilitate both aggression and steadfast- ness. That is to say, it anticipates that states would seek to use nuclear weapons both to stand firmer when challenged and to find opportunities to revise the status quo more attractively in their f avor. It does not, however, indicate which is likely to be the more obvious or dramatic effect: the precise balance between aggression and steadfastness that should be observed will likely depend on a range of f actors, such as the conventional balance of power, revisionism, or geographic proximity. 35. S tephen M. Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1987), 21–26; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era. 36. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 44. 37. This is another difference between the theory of nuclear opportunism and the theory of the nuclear revolution. While the theory of the nuclear revolution is about how pairs of nuclear- armed states should behave toward each other, the theory of nuclear opportunism aims to make predictions about how nuclear- armed states behave toward nuclear and nonnuclear states. 38. Avery Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st C entury: China, Britain, France, and the Enduring Legacy of the Nuclear Revolution (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000), 21. 39. J ohn J. Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics (New York: W. W. Norton, 2001), 31. 40. Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st Century, 25–26. 41. Mancur Olson and Richard Zeckhauser, “An Economic Theory of Alliances,” Review of Economics and Statistics 48, no. 3 (1966): 266–279. 42. Fareed Zakaria, From Wealth to Power: The Unusual Origins of Ameri ca’s World Role (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1998), 38; Robert Jervis, “Do Leaders Matter and How Would We Know?,” Security Studies 22, no. 2 (2013): 176. 43. Walt, Origins of Alliances. 44. This prediction only applies to the acquiring state’s relationships with its jun ior allies. As previously discussed, in de pend ence is still incentivized for the acquiring state’s relation- ships with its sen ior allies. Even for declining states, se nior allies can be a constraint on their foreign policy, and nuclear acquisition thus makes ind ep en dence from the se nior ally po litic ally attractive. 45. Both of t hese mea sures are regularly used in quantitative studies of international poli- tics to assess changing power. 46. On potential differences between perceptions and real ity of power trajectories, see Wil- liam C. Wohlforth, “The Perception of Power: Russ ia in the Pre-1914 Balance,” World Politics 39, no. 3 (1987): 353–381. However, in the case of the states that have acquired nuclear weapons, the two approaches generally yield similar conclusions at the point at which the state acquired nuclear weapons. 47. For example, Joseph S. Nye, “Nuclear Learning and US-S oviet Security Regimes,” Inter- national Organi zation 41, no. 3 (1987): 371–402; Michael Horow itz, “The Spread of Nuclear Weapons and International Conflict: Does Experience Matter?,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 53, no. 2 (2009): 234–257; Cohen, When Proliferation Causes Peace. 48. P osen, Sources of Military Doctrine. 49. For example, Lynn Eden, Whole World on Fire: Organi zations, Knowledge, and Nuclear Weapons Devastation (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2004). For a similar argument about path dependence in a dif fere nt military domain, see Austin Long, The Soul of Armies: Counterin- surgency Doctrine and Military Culture in the US and UK (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2016). 50. R onald R. Krebs, “How Dominant Narratives Rise and Fall: Military Conflict, Politics, and the Cold War Consensus,” International Organ ization 69, no. 4 (2015): 809–845. 51. To take an analogy, if an individual buys a lawnmower b ecause he or she wants the grass to be shorter, and then uses the lawnmower to facilitate shorter grass, the lawnmower is still having an effect on grass length. And, indeed, assessing how grass length changes after the 179 notes to pages 28–35 individual acquires a lawnmower provides a way to assess the effect of the lawnmower, even if the desire for shorter grass motivated the lawnmower purchase. 52. For overviews of the lite r a ture on the c auses of proliferation, see Scott D. Sagan, “The C auses of Nuclear Weapons Proliferation,” Annual Review of Pol iti cal Science 14 (2011): 225–244; Mark S. Bell, “Examining Explanations for Nuclear Proliferation,” International Studies Quar- terly 60, no. 3 (2016): 520–529. 53. Robert Jervis, The Meaning of the Nuclear Revolution: Statecraft and the Prospects of Arma- geddon (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989), 3. As discussed above, this is also why the theory does not make predictions about which states will seek to acquire nuclear weapons: the theory does not make any claims about which states will find that the benefits that nuclear weapons offer outweigh the costs associated with them. 54. M . Taylor Fravel and Evan S. Medeiros, “China’s Search for Assured Retaliation: The Evo- lution of Chinese Nuclear Strategy and Force Structure,” International Security 35, no. 2 (2010): 48–87. 55. G ary King, Robert O. Keohane, and Sidney Verba, Designing Social Inquiry: Scientific In- ference in Qualitative Research (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1994), 118–122. 56. K apur, Dangerous Deterrent. 57. T his approach therefore allows us to rule out a range of alternative explanations through research design rather than through modeling assumptions, as most large-n work typically does. For more on the difference between design-b ased and model-b ased approaches, see Donald B. Rubin, “For Objective Causal Inference, Design Trumps Analy sis,” Annals of Applied Statistics 2, no. 3 (2008): 808–840. This approach is also similar to the interrupted time series analys is origi- nally proposed by Donald T. Campbell and Julian C. Stanley, Experimental and Quasi- Experimental Designs for Research (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1966). This approach is of part icu lar use where (a) the outcome occurs over time, (b) the treatment occurs at a specific point in time, and (c) a small number of units receive the treatment, all of which apply to analyzing the effects of nu- clear acquisition on foreign policy. 58. On the perils of using datasets and variables that are not “tightly coupled” with the pre- cise theoretical questions being tested, see Alexander H. Montgomery and Scott D. Sagan, “The Perils of Predicting Proliferation,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 53, no. 2 (2009): 302–328. 59. The extent to which this is poss i ble is debatable. For example, India has consistently sought to undermine the strategic benefits that Pakistan gains from its nuclear weapons, but it is not clear that t hese efforts have reduced Pakistan’s ability to aggress against India and use nuclear weapons to deter retaliation. See Walter C. Ladwig III, “A Cold Start for Hot Wars? The Indian Army’s New Limited War Doctrine,” International Security 32, no. 3 (2008): 158–190; Sha- shank Joshi, “India’s Military Instrument: A Doctrine Stillborn,” Journal of Strategic Studies 36, no. 4 (2013): 512–540; Christopher Clary and Vipin Narang, “India’s Counterforce Temptations: Strategic Dilemmas, Doctrine, and Capabilities,” International Security 43, no. 3 (2019): 7–52. 60. Tristan A. Volpe, “Atomic Leverage: Compellence with Nuclear Latency,” Security Stud- ies 26, no. 3 (2017): 517–544. 61. O n reactive proliferation, see Nicholas L. Miller, “Nuclear Dominoes: A Self-D efeating Prophecy?,” Security Studies 23, no. 1 (2014): 33–73. 62. Aaron Rapport, “Hard Thinking about Hard and Easy Cases in Security Studies,” Secu- rity Studies 24, no. 3 (2015): 431–465. 63. There are also impor tant challenges associated with the case of the United States, which I discuss in detail in chapter 4. 64. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era. 65. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 8. 66. F eldman, Israeli Nuclear Deterrence. 67. W alt, Origins of Alliances. 68. Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent. 180 notes to pages 37–40 2. Ind ep end ence and Status 1. Initially, British targeting was focused on counterforce operations aimed at Soviet air bases from which nuclear attacks against the United Kingdom would be launched, but this shifted over time as nuclear weapons became more powerf ul and the doctrine of massive re- taliation increasingly prioritized countervalue targeting of Soviet cities. See Matthew Jones, The Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, vol. 1, From the V- Bomber Era to the Ar- rival of Polaris, 1945–1964 (Abingdon: Routledge, 2017), 34–35. 2. A. J. R. Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons (London: Pinter, 1974), 36. 3. Jones, Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, 1:25. 4. J ones, Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, 1:9. 5. Winston Churchill, “Note on Tube Alloys,” December 12, 1954, Churchill Archives, Cambridge, United Kingdom (CHUR) 2/217/15 (emphasis added). 6. Anthony Eden, Full Circle: The Memoirs of Sir Anthony Eden (London: Cassell, 1960), 414 (emphasis added). 7. J ohn Slessor, Strategy for the West (New York: William Morrow, 1954), 114. 8. “The RAF Strategic Nuclear Deterrent Forces: Their Origins, Roles and Deployment 1946–1969,” 1991, United Kingdom National Archives, Kew, United Kingdom (UKNA) AIR 41/87, 41–42, 62; Christopher J. Bartlett, The Long Retreat: A Short History of British Defence Pol- icy, 1945–70 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1972), 99; Robert S. Norris, Andrew S. Burrows, and Richard W. Fieldh ouse, Nuclear Weapons Databook, vol. 5, British, French, and Chinese Nuclear Weapons (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1994), chaps. 2–3; John Baylis and Kristan Stoddart, The British Nuclear Experience: The Role of Beliefs, Culture, and Identity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 62; Jones, Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, 1:25. 9. “The RAF Strategic Nuclear Deterrent Forces,” 1991, UKNA AIR 41/87, 64, 68, 100–101; George C. Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy: From Dreadnoughts to Hydrogen Bombs (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 238. 10. “Command Directive to Air Marshal Sir George H. Mills,” May 31, 1955, UKNA AIR 2/15917. 11. For a 1955 discussion of the capabilities of the diff er ent V- bombers, see “The Size of the V- Bomber Force,” March 23, 1955, UKNA DEFE 11/101. See also Andrew Pierre, Nuclear Politics: The British Experience with an In dep end ent Strategic Force, 1939–1970 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1972), 155; Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons, 122; William P. Snyder, The Poli- tics of British Defense Policy, 1945–1962 (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1964), 26; Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy, 238; Baylis and Stoddart, British Nuclear Experience, 62. 12. “The RAF Strategic Nuclear Deterrent Forces,” UKNA AIR 41/87, 98. 13. Sebastian Rosato, Eur ope United: Power Politics and the Making of the Eur o pean Community (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2011), 83–87. 14. J ohn Darwin, The Empire Proj ect: The Rise and Fall of the British World- System, 1830–1970 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 574. 15. T ore T. Petersen, The Middle East between the Great Powers: Anglo- American Conflict and Cooperation, 1952–7 (Basingstoke: Macmillan Press, 2000), xi. 16. John Dumbrell, A Special Relationship: Anglo-A merican Relations in the Cold War and A fter (Basingstoke: Macmillan Press, 2001), 6. 17. John Baylis, Anglo-A merican Relations since 1939: The Enduring Alliance (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1997), 18. 18. B aylis, Anglo-A merican Relations since 1939, 38–39. 19. F or a thorough analys is of Britain’s power trajectory in the twentieth c entury, see Joshua R. Itzkowitz Shifrinson, Rising Titans, Falling G iants: How Great Powers Exploit Power Shifts (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2018), chap. 2. 20. P ierre, Nuclear Politics, 69; Peden, Arms, Economics and British Strategy, 245–249. 21. Anthony Adamthwaite, “Britain and the World, 1945–9: The View from the Foreign Of- fice,” International Affairs 61, no. 2 (1985): 231; Paul C. Avey, “Confronting Soviet Power: U.S. Policy during the Early Cold War,” International Security 36, no. 4 (2012): 162–163. 181 notes to pages 40–45 22. Itzkowitz Shifrinson, Rising Titans, Falling Giants, 44. 23. Adamthwaite, “Britain and the World, 1945–9,” 231. 24. Quoted in Avey, “Confronting Soviet Power,” 163. 25. Throughout this book I use version 4.0 of the National Material Capabilities Dataset, re- leased in 2010. The original data is described in David J. Singer, “Reconstructing the Correlates of War Dataset on Material Capabilities of States, 1816–1985,” International Interactions 14, no. 2 (1988): 115–132. 26. “The Size of the V- Bomber Force,” March 23, 1955, UKNA DEFE 11/101. 27. Avery Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st C entury: China, Britain, France, and the Enduring Legacy of the Nuclear Revolution (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000), 21. 28. M emorandum for the Secretary of State from R. G. Arneson, February 3, 1949, Truman Presidential Library, Ind e pend ence, Missouri (TRUM), Truman Papers, National Security Coun- cil File, box 12, File on Atomic Energy Policy vis-a - vis the United Kingdom and Canada, 1943– 1949. 29. M emorandum on the Properties of a Radioactive Superbomb, March 1940, UKNA AB 1/210. 30. “Report by M.A.U.D. Committee on the Use of Uranium for a Bomb,” March 1941, UKNA CAB 104/227. On the impact of the MAUD Committee, see Margaret Gowing, Britain and Atomic Energy, 1939–1945 (London: Macmillan, 1964), chap. 2. 31. Roo se velt to Churchill, October 11, 1941, UKNA PREM 3/139/8A. 32. P ierre, Nuclear Politics, 27–29; Gowing, Britain and Atomic Energy, 1939–1945, 123; Gra- ham Farmelo, Churchill’s Bomb: A Hidden History of Science, War and Politics (London: Faber & Faber, 2013), 203. 33. P ierre, Nuclear Politics, 27, 29. 34. Lindemann (Lord Cherwell) to Churchill, August 27, 1941, UKNA CAB 126/330. 35. Churchill to Hastings Ismay, August 30, 1941, UKNA PREM 3/139/8A. 36. Gowing, Britain and Atomic Energy, 1939–1945, 128. 37. Quoted in Pierre, Nuclear Politics, 33. 38. F armelo, Churchill’s Bomb, 241; Jones, Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deter- rent, 1:1. 39. Q uoted in Martin J. Sherwin, “The Atomic Bomb and the Origins of the Cold War: U.S. Atomic-E nergy Policy and Diplomacy, 1941–45,” American Historical Review 78, no. 4 (1973): 949. 40. Q uoted in Roger Ruston, A Say in the End of the World: Morals and British Nuclear Weapons Policy, 1941–1987 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 85. 41. Pierre, Nuclear Politics, 40; Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons, 8; Wilson D. Miscamble, The Most Controversial Decision: Truman, the Atomic Bombs, and the Defeat of Japan (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 11. 42. Quoted in Richard N. Rosecrance, Defence of the Realm: British Strategy in the Nuclear Ep- och (New York: Columbia University Press, 1968), 40. 43. T homas J. Christensen, Useful Adversaries: Grand Strategy, Domestic Mobilization, and Sino- American Conflict, 1947–1958 (Princet on, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1996), 39; Gold- stein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st Century, 142; Margaret Gowing and Laura Arnold, Ind e- pend ence and Deterrence: Britain and Atomic Energy, 1945–1952, vol. 1, Policy Making (London: Macmillan, 1974), 93–94. 44. Aide- Memoire of Conversation between Roo sev elt and Churchill, September 19, 1944, in Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS), Conference at Quebec, 1944, document 299, FRUS documents available at https://h istory . state . gov/ historicaldocuments. See also Gowing and Arnold, Ind ep en dence and Deterrence, 1:95–123. 45. “The Prime Minister,” March 1, 1955, Rec ords of the United Kingdom Houses of Parlia- ment (Hansard) (UKHoP), vol. 537, column 1897. See also “The Size of the V-B omber Force,” March 23, 1955, UKNA DEFE 11/101. 46. Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st Century, 146. 47. “Mr. Churchill,” February 15, 1951, UKHoP, vol. 484, column 630. 48. Quoted in Ruston, A Say in the End of the World, 90. 49. Quoted in Ruston, A Say in the End of the World, 90. 182 notes to pages 45–50 50. Quoted in Baylis and Stoddart, British Nuclear Experience, 32. 51. C hristopher J. Bowie and Alan Platt, British Nuclear Policymaking (Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 1984), 8. 52. “ Defence Policy and Global Strategy: Report by the Chiefs of Staff,” June 17, 1952, UKNA CAB 131/12, D(52) 26; Ruston, A Say in the End of the World, 95. 53. Quoted in Snyder, Politics of British Defense Policy, 233. 54. “Confidential Annex,” January 10, 1956, UKNA DEFE 32/5. 55. Jones, Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, 1:2. 56. Memo on Atomic Research from Lord Cherwell to Mr. Churchill, August 6, 1950, CHUR 2/28/45–51, 1–2. 57. For example, “COS(56)451,” December 31, 1956, UKNA AIR 20/12508. 58. For a theoretical treatment of t hese dynamics, see Albert O. Hirschman, Exit, Voice, and Loyalty: Responses to Decline in Firms, Organi zations, and States (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Uni- versity Press, 1970). 59. G owing and Arnold, Ind ep en dence and Deterrence, 1:184. See also Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons, 2. 60. Memo on Atomic Research from Lord Cherwell to Mr. Churchill, August 6, 1950, CHUR 2/28/45–51. 61. “Draft Command Directive to Air Marshal Sir George H. Mills,” 1954, UKNA AIR 2/15917. 62. Quoted in Snyder, Politics of British Defense Policy, 233. 63. Q uoted in George C. Peden, “Suez and Britain’s Decline as a World Power,” Historical Journal 55, no. 4 (2012): 1081. 64. “Britain and the Western Alliance,” August 26, 1959, U.S. Central Intelligence Agency Ar- chives (CIAA) CREST, General CIA Reco rds, document RDP79R01012A014700050017–8. 65. “ Note of a Meeting of Ministers,” August 29, 1945, UKNA CAB 130/2, GEN 75/2nd Meeting. 66. “Cabinet Defence Committee,” September 13, 1946, UKNA CAB 21/2086, DO(46) 107. 67. R osecrance, Defence of the Realm, 188. 68. “Defence Policy and the Royal Air Force 1956–1963,” 1987, UKNA AIR 41/86, 11. 69. “ Defense Policy in Economic Crisis,” October 20, 1952, Private Papers of Sir John Sles- sor, UKNA AIR 75/119. 70. “Defence Policy and Global Strategy,” June 17, 1952, UKNA CAB 131/12. 71. Martin S. Navias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 1955–1958 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 4; Bartlett, Long Retreat, 97; Jones, Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, 1:46. 72. Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons, 62–63; Navias, Nuclear Weapons and Brit- ish Strategic Planning, 5. 73. I use version 4.0 of the National Material Capabilities Dataset, released in 2010. The orig- inal data is described in Singer, “Reconstructing the Correlates of War Dataset on Material Ca- pabilities of States.” 74. Rosecrance, Defence of the Realm, 190. 75. Quoted in John Baylis, Ambiguity and Deterrence: British Nuclear Strategy, 1945–1964 (Ox- ford: Clarendon Press, 1995), 206. 76. Bartlett, Long Retreat, 129; Lawrence Freedman, Britain and Nuclear Weapons (Basing- stoke: Macmillan Press, 1980), 4; Navias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 139. 77. Lewis Betts, Duncan Sandys and British Nuclear Policy-M aking (London: Palgrave Mac- millan, 2016). 78. “The Prime Minister,” April 17, 1957, UKHoP, vol. 568, column 2040. 79. “Defence Policy and the Royal Air Force 1956–1963,” 1987, UKNA AIR 41/86, xv–x iv. 80. This uses the latest MID 4.0 codings. Glenn Palmer, Vito D’Orazio, Michael Kenwick, and Matthew Lane, “The MID4 Dataset, 2002–2010: Procedures, Coding Rules and Description,” Conflict Management and Peace Science 32, no. 2 (2015): 222–242. 81. William R. Thompson, “Identifying Rivals and Rivalries in World Politics,” International Studies Quarterly 45, no. 4 (2001): 557–586. 183 notes to pages 51–55 82. Thompson, “Identifying Rivals and Rivalries in World Politics.” 83. N avias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 37. 84. N avias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 47–48. 85. M atthew Jones, “The Radford Bombshell: Anglo-A ustralian- US Relations, Nuclear Weapons and the Defence of South East Asia, 1954–57,” Journal of Strategic Studies 27, no. 4 (2004): 643; Baylis, Ambiguity and Deterrence, 228. 86. “Annex to COS(56)76,” February 16, 1956, UKNA DEFE 5/65. 87. Letter from the Acting Director of Central Intelligence to the Secretary of State, Sep- tember 12, 1955, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 21, document 67. 88. Matthew Jones, “Up the Garden Path? Britain’s Nuclear History in the Far East, 1954– 1962,” International History Review 25, no. 2 (2003): 310. 89. For detailed discussions of British nuclear commitments to SEATO, see Jones, “Up the Garden Path?”; Jones, “Radford Bombshell”; Navias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 47–51. 90. Jones, “Radford Bombshell,” 653. 91. “JP(56)104,” June 5, 1956, UKNA DEFE 4/87. 92. Wayne Reynolds, “The Wars That W ere Planned: Australia’s Forward Defence Posture in Asia and the Role of Tactical Nuclear Weapons, 1945–1967,” Australian Journal of International Affairs 53, no. 3 (1999): 305. 93. “Annex to COS(57)40,” 1957, UKNA DEFE 5/73; Jones, “Radford Bombshell,” 637, 653; Wayne Reynolds, Australia’s Bid for the Atomic Bomb (Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 2000), 169–170. 94. “Annex to COS(57)40,” 1957, UKNA DEFE 5/73. 95. J ones, “Radford Bombshell,” 655. See also Reynolds, Australia’s Bid for the Atomic Bomb, 169. 96. “Review of M iddle East Policy and Strategy: Report by the Chiefs of Staff,” Septem- ber 15, 1950, UKNA CAB 21/2088, COS(50) 363. 97. “ Defence Policy and Global Strategy: Report by the Chiefs of Staff,” June 17, 1952, UKNA CAB 131/12, D(52) 26. 98. N igel John Ashton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Probl em of Nasser: Anglo-A merican Re- lations and Arab Nationalism, 1955–59 (Basingstoke: MacMillan, 1996), 59; Simon C. Smith, End- ing Empire in the Middle East: Britain, the United States and Post- War Decolonization (New York: Routledge, 2012), 39; John Darwin, Britain and Decolonisation: The Retreat from Empire in the Post- War World (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1988), 210; Stephen M. Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1987), 58–62. 99. M emorandum of a Telephone Conversation between the President and the Secretary of State, Washington, April 7, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 12, document 111. 100. “JP(56)193: Baghdad Pact National Comments on Nuclear Study Brief for United King- dom Deputy,” December 20, 1956, UKNA DEFE 4/94. 101. Quoted in Navias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 45. 102. “COS(56)79,” February 21, 1956, UKNA DEFE 5/65. 103. “COS(55)49,” March 4, 1955, UKNA DEFE 5/57. 104. “DC(56)17,” July 3, 1956, UKNA CAB 131/17. 105. “The Minister of Defence,” March 2, 1955, UKHoP, vol. 537, column 2182. 106. Reynolds, Australia’s Bid for the Atomic Bomb, 168n37; “JP(56)54: Facilities Required by H.M. Forces in Cyprus in Peace and War: Report by the Joint Planning Staff,” May 26, 1956, UKNA DEFE 4/87. 107. “Annex to JP(56)97,” May 25, 1956, UKNA DEFE 4/87; “Annex to COS 131(56),” De- cember 7, 1956, UKNA DEFE 4/91, British Documents on the End of Empire (BDEE) Series B, vol. 4, document 648. 108. Navias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 39–51; Baylis, Ambiguity and De- terrence, 229. 109. “Defence Policy and the Royal Air Force 1956–1963,” 1987, UKNA AIR 41/86, xiv, 20. 110. “ The RAF Strategic Nuclear Deterrent Forces: Their Origins, Roles and Deployment 1946–1969,” 1991, UKNA AIR 41/87, 125–126. 184 notes to pages 55–59 111. “The Most Effective Pattern of NATO Military Strength for the Next Few Years,” No- vember 22, 1954, NATO Strategy Documents (NATOSD) 1949–1969, MC 48/1. 112. “CC(54),” March 10, 1954, UKNA CAB 128/27/17. 113. Eden, Full Circle, 372–373; Baylis, Ambiguity and Deterrence, 230. See also “Annex to JP(56)120,” June 27, 1956, UKNA DEFE 4/88. 114. “COS(56)271: Long Term Defence Review,” July 13, 1956, UKNA DEFE 32/5. 115. “Annex II to COS(56)271: Military Brief by the Chief of the Air Staff,” July 13, 1956, UKNA DEFE 32/5. 116. B aylis, Ambiguity and Deterrence, 231. 117. M emorandum from the Secretary of State to the President, October 1, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 4, document 37. 118. Memorandum of a Conversation, Paris, December 11, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 4, document 44. In his memo to Eisenhower summarizing the meeting, he acknowledged “the real- ity of the British predicament.” Message from the Secretary of State to the President, Decem- ber 11, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 4, document 45. 119. Baylis, Ambiguity and Deterrence, 231. 120. N avias, Nuclear Weapons and British Strategic Planning, 184. 121. “Defence Policy and the Royal Air Force, 1956–1963” 1987, UKNA AIR 41/86, 1. 122. “Defence Policy and the Royal Air Force, 1956–1963,” 1987, UKNA AIR 41/86, 44. 123. Petersen, M iddle East between the Great Powers, xi. 124. S . Paul Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent: Nuclear Weapons Proliferation and Conflict in South Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2007). 125. Steven G. Galpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East: Sterling and Postwar Impe- rialism, 1944–1971 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 84. 126. G alpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 87–88. 127. G alpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 91. 128. D aniel Yergin, The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money & Power (New York: F ree Press, 2009), 435. 129. Y ergin, The Prize, 437; Galpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 97. 130. H . W. Brands, “The Cairo- Tehran Connection in Anglo-A merican Rivalry in the Middle East, 1951–1953,” International History Review 11, no. 3 (1989): 437–438. 131. D arwin, Britain and Decolonisation, 161; Smith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 29; Ste- phen Kinzer, All the Shah’s Men: An American Coup and the Roots of Middle East Terror (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley & Sons, 2008), 3; Yergin, The Prize, 440. 132. C P(51)212: Memorandum by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, July 20, 1951, UKNA CAB 129/46. 133. Walter to State Department, May 16, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 22. 134. “CM(51),” September 27, 1951, UKNA CAB 128/20/10. 135. Melvyn P. Leffler, A Preponderance of Power: National Security, the Truman Administration, and the Cold War (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1992), 77; Galpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 1; Darwin, Empire Proj ect, 525; Petersen, M iddle East between the G reat Powers, 19. 136. C P(51)212: Memorandum by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, July 20, 1951, UKNA CAB 129/46. 137. D arwin, Empire Proj ect, 556–557; Galpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 2. 138. G alpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 71. 139. Galpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 107. 140. Galpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 19, 67, 81. 141. Minutes of meeting, November 1, 1951, UKNA FO 371/91608. 142. Memorandum of Conversation, April 18, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 13. 143. Brands, “Cairo-T ehran Connection in Anglo- American Rivalry,” 440. 144. Statement of Policy Proposed by the National Security Council, June 27, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 32. See also Francis J. Gavin, “Politics, Power, and U.S. Policy in Iran, 1950–1953,” Journal of Cold War Studies 1, no. 1 (1999): 65–68. 145. Truman to Attlee, May 31, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 25. 185 notes to pages 59–62 146. Acheson to Ira nian embassy, May 11, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 21. 147. “ Paper prepared in the Department of State,” n.d., in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, docu- ment 12. The document was presented to the British ambassador at a meeting on April 17, 1951. See Memorandum of Conversation, April 17, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 12. 148. Acheson to UK Embassy, May 31, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 30. 149. Gifford to State Department, May 16, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 22. Memorandum of Conversation, April 18, 1951, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 10, document 13. 150. CP(51)114: Memorandum by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, April 20, 1951, UKNA CAB 129/45. 151. C P(51)200: Memorandum by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, July 11, 1951, UKNA CAB 129/46. 152. “CM51(51)2,” July 12, 1951, UKNA CAB 128/20, BDEE Series A, vol. 2, document 36. 153. “CM(51),” September 27, 1951, UKNA CAB 128/20/10. 154. “CM(51),” September 27, 1951, UKNA CAB 128/20/10. 155. Petersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 19. 156. Eden, Full Circle, 217–225. 157. H enry Byroade to H. Freeman Matthews, November 26, 1952, NSA Electronic Briefing Book 601, document 1; “British Proposal to Or ga nize a Coup d’etat in Iran,” December 3, 1952, NSA Electronic Briefing Book 601, document 2; Smith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 30. 158. K inzer, All the Shah’s Men, 4; Gavin, “Politics, Power and U.S. Policy in Iran.” 159. S mith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 30–31. 160. Darwin, Britain and Decolonisation, 113. 161. G alpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 142. 162. Y ergin, The Prize, 461. 163. C abinet Memorandum by Eden, July 28, 1952, UKNA C(52)267, CAB 129/54, BDEE Se- ries A, vol. 3, document 31. 164. J ulian Amery to Eden, March 16, 1953, UKNA FO 371/102807, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 377. 165. Y ergin, The Prize, 463. 166. Darwin, Britain and Decolonisation, 121; Darwin, Empire Proje ct, 564. 167. N otes by Robert Hankey on meeting with Churchill, May 22, 1953, UKNA FO 371/102765, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 396. See also Petersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 1–3. 168. Letter from Churchill to Eisenhower, February 25, 1953, UKNA PREM 11/704, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 373. 169. T ele gram from Eden to Roger Makins, March 21, 1953, UKNA PREM 11/486, BDEE Se- ries B, vol. 4, document 380. 170. “ CC(17)53,” March 9, 1953, UKNA CAB 128/26/1, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 374. 171. Christopher Steel to Foreign Office, March 23, 1953, UKNA PREM 11/486, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 382; Memo from William Strang, March 24, 1953, UKNA FO 371/102803, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 383. 172. P etersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 11. 173. For example, Hankey to Robert Gascoyne-C ecil (Lord Salisbury), July 5, 1953, UKNA FO 371/102811, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 413; “CC(53)3,” July 6, 1953, UKNA CAB 128/62/2, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 415. 174. For example, “CC51(53)2,” September 8, 1953, UKNA CAB 128/26/2, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 432. 175. E den to Churchill, December 1, 1953, UKNA PREM 11/484, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, doc- ument 454. 176. Petersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 14. 177. Teleg ram from Eden, December 15, 1953, UKNA FO 371/102822, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 458; Churchill to Eisenhower, December 22, 1953, UKNA PREM 11/699, BDEE Se- ries 4, vol. 2, document 461. 178. Draft Memo from Eden to Churchill, December 28, 1953, UKNA FO 371/108413, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 465. 186 notes to pages 62–66 179. Churchill to Eisenhower, June 21, 1954, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1335. Churchill did not explici tly acknowledge that Britain was backing down, instead justifying the change in position with reference to “thermonuclear developments” and the “Tito-G reek- Turco front coming into being” altering the strategic value of the canal zone. Neither of t hese justifi- cations was fully convincing, and, indeed, Churchill continued to argue for the “pol iti cal dis- advantages of abandoning the position which we had held in Egypt since 1882” in a cabinet meeting the following day. “CC43(54)1,” June 22, 1954, UKNA CAB 128/27/1, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 525. The most plausible explanation is that Churchill’s rationale in his letter to Eisenhower was an effort to preserve some dignity in the midst of a humiliating reversal. 180. Eden to Ralph Stevenson, July 2, 1954, UKNA FO 371/108420, BDEE Series B, vol. 4, document 529. 181. Rosecrance, Defence of the Realm, 202; Darwin, Britain and Decolonisation, 208. 182. C hurchill to Chiefs of Staff, July 21, 1954, UKNA DEFE 7/31, BDEE Series 4, vol. 2, doc- ument 537. 183. P etersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 17; Darwin, Empire Proje ct, 596. 184. C P(55)153: Memorandum by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, October 15, 1955, UKNA CAB 129/78. 185. F or example, Raymond Hare to State Department, March 10, 1952, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1467. 186. H are to State Department, September 28, 1952, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, docu- ment 1478. 187. Memorandum of Conversations by Joseph Palmer, April 16, 1953, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1514. 188. Ashton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Prob lem of Nasser, 75; Tore T. Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East: The Strug gle for the Buraimi Oasis, 1952–1957,” Interna- tional History Review 14, no. 1 (1992): 71. 189. G ifford to Acheson, December 11, 1952, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1495. 190. P etersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 38; Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East,” 74. 191. F or example, Acheson to U.K. Embassy, October 10, 1952, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1484. 192. Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East,” 73. 193. The British were eager for the Americans to know that their pursuit of a diplomatic so- lution and acc ept ance of the “Standstill Agreement” w ere due to the United States. See Salis- bury to Dulles, July 27, 1953, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1530. 194. Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East,” 74. 195. P etersen, M iddle East between the Great Powers, 42. 196. Dulles to British Embassy, May 22, 1954, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 9, part 2, document 1563. See also Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East,” 77. 197. “CM(55),” October 4, 1955, UKNA CAB 128/29/34. 198. “The Prime Minister,” October 26, 1955, UKHoP, vol. 545, column 198–202. 199. C P(55)153: Memorandum by the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, October 15, 1955, UKNA CAB 129/78. 200. Petersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 53. 201. Petersen, Middle East between the G reat Powers, 53; Smith, Ending Empire in the M iddle East, 37. 202. Dulles to Dulles, n.d., in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, document 184. 203. Dulles to UK Embassy, December 13, 1955, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, document 145. 204. Quoted in Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East,” 85. The British were informed that “the best [the United States] could prob ably do would be to abstain.” Hoover to Dulles, December 20, 1955, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, document 199; Petersen, “Anglo- American Rivalry in the Middle East,” 85. 205. M emorandum of a Conversation, January 30, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, docu- ment 213. 187 notes to pages 66–69 206. Minutes on letter from Dulles to Macmillan, December 6, 1955, UKNA FO 371/115469, BDEE Series B, vol. 2, document 614; Selwyn Lloyd to Dulles, January 23, 1956, in FRUS 1955– 1957, vol. 13, document 209. 207. Ashton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Prob lem of Nasser, 75. 208. M emorandum of Conversation, January 10, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, docu- ment 207. 209. G alpern, Money, Oil, and Empire in the Middle East, 142–143. 210. Y ergin, The Prize, 467. 211. Yergin makes this comparison explicit, arguing that “a Nasser victory in Egypt might have had the same kind of repercussions as a Mossadegh victory in Iran would have had.” Yer- gin, The Prize, 467. 212. F or example, Memorandum of a Conference with the President, July 31, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 34. 213. Dulles to UK Embassy, July 30, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 28. 214. Eisenhower to Eden, July 31, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 35. 215. Petersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 82. 216. M emorandum of a Conversation, August 1, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, docu- ment 41. 217. S mith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 46–47; Ashton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Prob lem of Nasser, 85. 218. M emorandum of a Conversation, August 1, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, docu- ment 42. 219. Memorandum of a Conversation, August 1, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 46; Dulles to Eisenhower, August 1, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 48. 220. Y ergin, The Prize, 471. 221. Memorandum of a Conference with the President, October 29, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 411. 222. Eisenhower to Eden, October 30, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 411. 223. M emorandum of Telephone Conversation between Eisenhower and Dulles, October 30, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 411. 224. Y ergin, The Prize, 472. 225. Conversation between Dulles and Eisenhower, November 7, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 542. 226. Phone Conversation between Eisenhower and Eden, November 7, 1956, in FRUS 1955– 1957, vol. 16, document 540; Eisenhower to Eden, November 7, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 545. 227. UK Embassy to Department of State, November 19, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 583. 228. UK Embassy to Department of State, November 19, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 593. 229. Memorandum of a Conversation with the President, November 20, 1956, in FRUS 1955– 1957, vol. 16, document 596. 230. “The Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,” December 3, 1956, UKHoP, vol. 561, col- umn 877–883. 231. CP(57)8: Note by the Prime Minister, January 7, 1957, UKNA 129/84. 232. Quoted in Smith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 67. 233. R osecrance, Defence of the Realm; John Charmley, Churchill’s Grand Alliance: The Anglo- American Special Relationship, 1940–1957 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1995); Scott Lucas, Di- vided We Stand: Britain, the United States, and the Suez Crisis (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1991); Keith Kyle, Suez: Britain’s End of Empire in the Middle East (London: I. B. Tauris, 2003); Peter L. Hahn, The United States, G reat Britain, and Egypt, 1945–1956: Strategy and Diplomacy in the Early Cold War (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1991). 234. S ee, for example, Peden, “Suez and Britain’s Decline as a World Power”; Simon C. Smith, “ ‘Ameri ca in Britain’s Place?’ Anglo- American Relations and the Middle East in the Aftermath of the Suez Crisis,” Journal of Transatlantic Studies 10, no. 3 (2012): 252–270. 188 notes to pages 69–73 235. S mith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 67. 236. Ashton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Prob lem of Nasser, 112. 237. Petersen, Middle East between the Great Powers, 216. 238. Macmillan to Eisenhower, July 19, 1957, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, document 148. 239. John to State Department, July 23, 1957, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 13, document 149. 240. Smith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 81. 241. S mith, Ending Empire in the Middle East, 81. 242. A shton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Prob lem of Nasser, 189. 243. For example, “Special National Intelligence Estimate,” June 5, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 60. 244. Phone Conversation between Eisenhower and Macmillan, July 14, 1958, in FRUS 1958– 1960, vol. 11, document 131. 245. Macmillan to Eisenhower, July 14, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 132. 246. A shton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Prob lem of Nasser, 9, 189. 247. Memorandum of Conversation between Dulles and Samuel Hood, July 14, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 134; Memorandum of Conversation between Dulles and Hood, July 15, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 177. For the British enthusiasm for inter- vention, see Macmillan to Eisenhower, July 14, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 172. 248. M emorandum of a Conference with the President, July 16, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 179; Memorandum of a Conference with the President, July 20, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 205. 249. M emorandum of a Conference with the President, July 20, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 205. 250. Memorandum of a Conversation between Macmillan and Dulles, July 16, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 182; Memorandum of a Conversation between Macmillan and Dulles, July 16, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 184; Memorandum of a Conversa- tion, July 17, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 187; Memorandum of a Conversation, July 17, 1958, in FRUS 1958–1960, vol. 11, document 188. 251. Memorandum of Discussion at the 292nd Meeting of the National Security Council, Washington, August 9, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, document 72. 252. M emorandum of a Conversation, August 1, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, docu- ment 46. 253. Bulganin Message to Eden, November 5, 1956, CIAA CREST, General CIA Reco rds, doc- ument RDP79R01012A006900020011–4. 254. Memorandum of a Conversation, November 6, 1956, in FRUS 1955–1957, vol. 16, docu- ment 524. 255. Q uoted in Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons, 190; Richard K. Betts, Nuclear Blackmail and Nuclear Balance (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 1987), 64. See also Jonathan Pearson, Sir Anthony Eden and the Suez Crisis: Reluctant G amble (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 161; Diane B. Kunz, The Economic Diplomacy of the Suez Crisis (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1991), 131; Jonathan Kirshner, Currency and Coercion: The Po litic al Economy of International Monetary Power (Princet on, NJ: Princet on University Press, 1997), 72–73. 256. Groom, British Thinking about Nuclear Weapons, 190–191. 257. H ymans, Psyc hol ogy of Nuclear Proliferation. 258. For analyses of Eden’s personality, background, and pol iti cal beliefs, see John T. Hen- derson, “Leadership Personality and War: The Cases of Richard Nixon and Anthony Eden,” Po- litic al Science 28, no. 2 (1976): 141–164; David Carlton, Anthony Eden (London: Penguin Books, 1981); Pearson, Sir Anthony Eden and the Suez Crisis; D. R. Thorpe, Eden: The Life and Times of Anthony Eden, First Earl of Avon, 1897–1977 (London: Pimlico, 2003); Robert Rhodes- James, An- thony Eden (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1986). 259. T ony Shaw, Eden, Suez and the Mass Media: Propaganda and Persuasion during the Suez Crisis (London: I. B. Tauris, 1996), 6; Eden, Full Circle, chaps. 9–10. 260. E den, Full Circle, 274. 261. Hymans, Psy chol ogy of Nuclear Proliferation. 189 notes to pages 73–76 262. Rhodes-J ames, Anthony Eden, 203–204; Carlton, Anthony Eden, 295–296; Thorpe, Eden, 420–421. 263. Rhodes-J ames, Anthony Eden, 379; Thorpe, Eden, 420. For a further example of Eden taking a more restrained position than Churchill, see Matthew Jones, After Hiroshima: The United States, Race and Nuclear Weapons in Asia, 1945–1965 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 139. 264. For example, Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 3n3. 265. M atthew Jones, The Official History of the UK Strategic Nuclear Deterrent, vol. 2, The L abour Government and the Polaris Programme, 1964–1970 (Abingdon: Routledge, 2017), xii. 266. Simon J. Ball, “Military Nuclear Relations between the United States and G reat Britain under the Terms of the McMahon Act, 1946–1958,” Historical Journal 38, no. 2 (1995): 453. See also Justin Bronk, “Britain’s ‘Ind e pen dent’ V-B omber Force and US Nuclear Weapons, 1957– 1962,” Journal of Strategic Studies 37, nos. 6–7 (2014): 974–997; Matthew Jones, “Prelude to the Skybolt Crisis: The Kennedy Administration’s Approach to British and French Strategic Nuclear Policies in 1962,” Journal of Cold War Studies 21, no. 2 (2019): 58–109. 267. Bundy to Kennedy, April 24, 1962, in FRUS 1961–1963, vol. 13, document 392. 268. Minutes of Cabinet Defence Committee Meeting D.(57) 2nd meeting, February 27, 1957, UKNA CAB 131/18. 269. Memorandum of Conversation, December 20, 1962, in FRUS 1961–1963, vol. 13, docu- ment 406. 270. “ Dele gat ion to the Heads of Government Meeting to the Embassy in France,” Decem- ber 20, 1962, in FRUS 1961–1963, vol. 13, document 407. 271. See, for example, the exchange of letters between Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and President Ronald Reagan requesting and confirming Britain’s purchase of Trident II missiles “in a manner generally similar to that in which Polaris was supplied” and repeating the “supreme national interests” language guaranteeing Britain’s ability to use nuclear weapons ind ep en- dently. Thatcher to Reagan, March 11, 1982, Reagan Presidential Library, Simi Valley, California (REAG), Dennis Blair Files, RAC box 5, folder 8; Reagan to Thatcher, March 11, 1982, REAG, Dennis Blair Files, RAC box 5, folder 8. 272. F or example, “Falklands Warships Carried Nuclear Weapons, MoD Admits,” The Guard- ian, December 6, 2003. T here is also less reliable evidence that Prime Minister Thatcher resorted to more explicit threats of British nuclear use in the conflict to compel French assistance in deal- ing with Argentina’s French- bought Exocet missiles. See “Thatcher Threatened to Nuke Argen- tina,” The Guardian, November 21, 2005. 273. The Secretary of State for Defence and the Secretary of State for Foreign and Common- wealth Affairs, The F uture of the United Kingdom’s Nuclear Deterrent (London: Government Sta- tionery Office, 2006), 5. 274. “MPs Vote to Renew Trident,” The Guardian, March 14, 2007; “Commons Votes for Tri- dent Renewal by Majority of 355,” The Guardian, July 18, 2016. 275. N ick Ritchie, “Relinquishing Nuclear Weapons: Identities, Networks and the British Bomb,” International Affairs 86, no. 2 (2010): 469–472. 276. Ritchie, “Relinquishing Nuclear Weapons,” 469. 277. F or arguments challenging the utility of British nuclear weapons, see, for example, Rob- ert O’Neill, “Britain and the F uture of Nuclear Weapons,” International Affairs 71, no. 4 (1995): 747–761; Michael MccGwire, “Comfort Blanket or Weapon of War: What Is Trident For?,” Inter- national Affairs 82, no. 4 (2006): 639–650; Rebecca Johnson, Nicola Butler, and Stephen Pullinger, Worse Than Irrelevant? British Nuclear Weapons in the 21st C entury (London: Acronym Institute for Disarmament Diplomacy, 2006); Nick Ritchie, “Deterrence Dogma? Challenging the Rele- vance of British Nuclear Weapons,” International Affairs 85, no. 1 (2009): 81–98; Ritchie, “Relin- quishing Nuclear Weapons”; Nick Ritchie, A Nuclear Weapons- Free World? Britain, Trident and the Challenges Ahead (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012). 190 notes to pages 78–83 3. Apartheid and Aggression 1. David Steward, interview with the author, Johannesburg, June 6, 2014. 2. Deon Fourie, interview with the author, Pretoria, June 16, 2014. 3. Vipin Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era: Regional Powers and International Con- flict (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 2014), 207. 4. For example, Mitchell Reiss, Bridled Ambition: Why Countries Constrain Their Nuclear Ca- pabilities (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995); Waldo Stumpf, “South Africa’s Nuclear Weapons Program: From Deterrence to Dismantlement,” Arms Control T oday 25, no. 10 (1995/1996): 3–8; Peter Liberman, “The Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” International Security 26, no. 2 (2001): 45–86; Helen E. Purkitt and Stephen F. Burgess, South Africa’s Weapons of Mass Destruction (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005); Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era; Or Rabinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests: Washington and Its Cold War Deals (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014). 5. André Buys, interview with the author, Pretoria, July 1, 2014; Waldo Stumpf, interview with the author, Pretoria, June 11, 2014; Major General (retired) Gert Opperman, interview with the author, Johannesburg, June 23, 2014; Ambassador Victor Zazeraj, interview with the author, Johannesburg, July 4, 2014. 6. Ambassador Jeremy Shearar, interview with the author, Pretoria, July 1, 2014. 7. Stumpf, interview; Zazeraj, interview. 8. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 15–17. 9. Buys, interview. See also Liberman, “Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” 52. 10. Liberman, “Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” 54–56. 11. Nor w ere methods of delivering nuclear weapons a constraint. As a UN 1980 report ob- served, “South Africa already possesses a variety of suitable delivery systems [for nuclear weap- ons], mostly high-p erformance aircraft.” “Report of the Secretary General on the Implementa- tion of the Declaration on the Denuclearization of Africa,” September 9, 1980, South Africa Department of International Relations and Co-o peration Archives, Pretoria, South Africa (DIRCO) 137/28, vol. 5. 12. B uys, interview. 13. B uys, interview. See also Nic Von Wielligh and Lydia Von Wielligh-S teyn, The Bomb: South Africa’s Nuclear Weapons Programme (Pretoria: Litera Publications, 2015), 171. 14. Stumpf, interview. 15. Buys dates the point at which South Africa reached this threshold more precisely to Oc- tober 1979. Buys, interview. 16. B uys, interview; Liberman, “Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” 54; Magnus Ma- lan, My Life with the SA Defence Force (Pretoria: Protea Book House, 2006), 219. W hether South Africa developed glide bombs is debated. Waldo Stumpf, for example, denies that any glide bombs were manufactured. Stumpf, interview. 17. Buys, interview; Liberman, “Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” 54; Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 219. 18. For example, Leopold Scholtz, The SADF in the Border War, 1966–1989 (Cape Town: Tafel- berg, 2013), chap. 2; Jamie Miller, An African Volk: The Apartheid Regime and Its Search for Survival (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), chap. 6. Operation Savannah is discussed in more detail below. 19. F or example, Anna- Mart Van Wyk, “South African Nuclear Development in the 1970s: A Non- proliferation Conundrum?,” International History Review 40, no. 5 (2018): 1158–1159. 20. R abinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests, 109. 21. Ronald W. Walters, South Africa and the Bomb: Responsibility and Deterrence (Lexington, MA: Lexington Books, 1987), 12. 22. Piero Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom: Havana, Washington, Pretoria, and the Strugg le for South- ern Africa, 1976–1991 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2013), 31. 23. Van Wyk, “South African Nuclear Development in the 1970s,” 1159. 24. Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 31. 191 notes to pages 83–90 25. W alters, South Africa and the Bomb, 12; Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 139–145. 26. The extent to which these Cuban and Soviet actions were themselves triggered by South African provocations and aggression is disputed. Irina Filatova and Apollon Davidson, The Hid- den Thread: Russ ia and South Africa in the Soviet Union (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball, 2013), 272; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 21–22; Piero Gleijeses, Conflicting Missions: Havana, Washing- ton, and Africa, 1959–1976 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2002), 254–262; Ed- ward George, Cuban Intervention in Angola, 1965–1991: From Che Guevara to Cuito Cuanavale (New York: Routledge, 2005), chap. 4. 27. Stumpf, “South Africa’s Nuclear Weapons Program,” 4; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 209–210. 28. Zazeraj, interview. 29. F ourie, interview. 30. S teward, interview. 31. C ol on el Jan Breytenbach (retired), interview with the author, Wilderness, June 20, 2014; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 7. 32. Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 190; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 52. 33. J annie Geldenhuys, We Were There: Winning the War for Southern Africa (Pretoria: Kraal Publishers, 2012), 19. 34. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 217. 35. Steward, interview. 36. O pperman, interview. 37. Walters, South Africa and the Bomb, 75. 38. Anna- Mart Van Wyk, “The USA and Apartheid South Africa’s Nuclear Aspirations, 1949– 1980,” in Cold War in Southern Africa: White Power, Black Liberation, ed. Sue Onslow (New York: Routledge, 2009), 69. See also Chris Alden, Apartheid’s Last Stand: The Rise and Fall of the South African Security State (Basingstoke: Macmillan Press, 1996), 30, 37. 39. Verne Harris, Sello Hatang, and Peter Liberman, “Unveiling South Africa’s Nuclear Past,” Journal of Southern African Studies 30, no. 3 (2004): 457–475. 40. Major General Johann Dippenaar (retired), interview with the author, Pretoria, June 30, 2014. 41. O pperman, interview. 42. Major General Roland de Vries (retired), phone interview with the author, September 9, 2014. 43. D ippenaar, interview. 44. “Effects of SA Attack on ANC Bases in Maputo,” April 3, 1981, DIRCO 1-113-7, vol. 2. 45. O pperman, interview. 46. Breytenbach, interview. 47. de Vries, interview. 48. O pperman, interview. 49. Opperman, interview. 50. Breytenbach, interview. 51. S hearar, interview. 52. Breytenbach, interview. 53. For example, “South African Military Involvement in Angola,” January 14, 1976, DIRCO 1/22/3, vol. 8. 54. Zazeraj, interview. 55. Zazeraj, interview. 56. S teward, interview. 57. Opperman, interview. 58. D ippenaar, interview. 59. B reytenbach, interview; Jannie Geldenhuys, At the Front: A General’s Account of South Africa’s Border War (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball, 1994), 93. 60. Breytenbach, interview; George, Cuban Intervention in Angola, 70. 61. Zazeraj, interview. 192 notes to pages 90–97 62. de Vries, interview. 63. Opperman, interview. 64. For example, Shearar, interview. 65. Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 117. 66. Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 117. 67. Opperman, interview. 68. “South Africa: Policy Considerations Regarding a Nuclear Test,” August 18, 1977, U.S. Central Intelligence Agency Archives (CIAA) CREST, General CIA Reco rds, document RDP- 79R00603A002900120001-0. 69. “ Trends in South Africa’s Nuclear Security Policies and Programs,” September 5, 1984, CIAA National Identity Conception (NIC) Collection, document 0000107420. 70. O pperman, interview. 71. de Vries, interview. 72. T his strategy is described explici tly in “Meeting of Ad Hoc Cabinet Committee,” Sep- tember 3, 1985, reproduced in Von Wielligh and Von Wielligh-S teyn, The Bomb, 480–483. 73. Buys, interview. 74. “ A Balanced Approach to the NPT: ARMSCOR/AEC Concerns Viewed from a DFA Standpoint,” September 1, 1988, Woodrow Wilson Center Digital Archive (WWCDA), document 114185. 75. D ippenaar, interview. 76. Buys, interview. 77. B uys, interview. 78. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 8. 79. Stumpf, interview; Zazeraj, interview. 80. Rabinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests, 106. 81. Buys, interview. 82. For example, “Message Conveyed to Minister of Foreign Affairs by U.S. Ambassa- dor W. Bowdler,” August 18, 1977, DIRCO 356/2/5/2/1. 83. For example, Memo from South African Embassy in Washington, D.C. to Secretary for Foreign Affairs Regarding the Indian Nuclear Explosion, June 20, 1974, DIRCO 137/10/21, vol. 2. 84. “Trends in South Africa’s Nuclear Security Policies and Programs,” October 5, 1984, NSA Electronic Briefing Book 181, document 27. 85. Buys, interview. 86. Von Wielligh and Von Wielligh-S teyn, The Bomb, 133. 87. B uys, interview. 88. Buys, interview; Stumpf, interview; Liberman, “Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” 54; Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 219; Von Wielligh and Von Wielligh-S teyn, The Bomb, 183. 89. “Report of the Secretary General on the Implementation of the Declaration on the De- nuclearization of Africa,” September 9, 1980, DIRCO 137/28, vol. 5. 90. Von Wielligh and Von Wielligh-S teyn, The Bomb, 157. 91. “Trends in South Africa’s Nuclear Security Policies and Programs,” September 5, 1984, CIAA NIC Collection, document 0000107420. 92. Zazeraj, interview. 93. Quoted in Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 428. 94. Zazeraj, interview (emphasis added). 95. “The Jericho Weapon System,” March 31, 1975, WWCDA document 114145. 96. “Report of the Secretary General on the Implementation of the Declaration on the De- nuclearization of Africa,” September 9, 1980, DIRCO 137/28, vol. 5. 97. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 12. 98. S choltz, SADF in the Border War, 13. 99. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 14. 100. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 14. 101. Gleijeses, Conflicting Missions, 291; George, Cuban Intervention in Angola, 70. 193 notes to pages 98–102 102. Steward, interview; Opperman, interview. 103. Z azeraj, interview; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 17; Willem Steenkamp, South Afri- ca’s Border War, 1966–1989 (Pretoria: Ashanti Publishing, 1989), 43. 104. Chester A. Crocker, High Noon in Southern Africa: Making Peace in a Rough Neighborhood (New York: W. W. Norton, 1992), 49. 105. Piero Gleijeses, “From Cassinga to New York: The Strugg le for the In dep en dence of Na- mibia,” in Cold War in Southern Africa: White Power, Black Liberation, ed. Sue Onslow (New York: Routledge, 2009), 203. For a contrasting account that downplays the role of the United States in shaping South Africa’s decision to intervene, see Jamie Miller, “Yes, Minister: Reassessing South Africa’s Intervention in the Angolan Civil War, 1975–1976,” Journal of Cold War Studies 15, no. 3 (2013): 4–33. 106. M emo to the Secretary for Foreign Affairs: Dr. Kissinger on Angola, November 21, 1975, DIRCO 1/22/1, vol. 20. 107. Opperman, interview; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 17. 108. Quoted in Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 19; Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 138. 109. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 19; Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 54; Breyten- bach, interview. 110. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 19; Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 9, 29. 111. S teenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 56, 59. 112. Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 29. 113. S teenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 60–61. 114. M alan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 189. 115. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 63. 116. S teenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 71. 117. S teenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 67; Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 189. 118. S teenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 69. 119. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 71; Miller, An African Volk, 309. 120. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 71. 121. B reytenbach, interview; Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 74–80; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, chap. 5; Miller, An African Volk, 312–314. 122. G leijeses, Visions of Freedom, 60–62; Gleijeses, “From Cassinga to New York,” 204–205; Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 80; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 82–87; Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 192–194; Geldenhuys, At the Front, 99–100; George, Cuban Intervention in Angola, 133–135; Miller, An African Volk, 313–319. 123. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 86; Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 99–100; Malan, My Life with the SA Defence Force, 194–195. 124. S choltz, SADF in the Border War, 45–49. 125. Quoted in Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 58. 126. G leijeses, Visions of Freedom, 118. 127. R obert Scott Jaster, The Defence of White Power: South African Foreign Policy u nder Pres- sure (Basingstoke: Macmillan Press, 1988), 93. 128. “Report of the Secretary General on the Implementation of the Declaration on the De- nuclearization of Africa,” September 9, 1980, DIRCO 137/28, vol. 5. 129. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 103. 130. G eldenhuys, At the Front, 129. 131. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 114. 132. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 92. 133. Opperman, interview; Zazeraj, interview; Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 186. 134. S teenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 97–98; Geldenhuys, At the Front, 154–155. 135. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 120. 136. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 121; Geldenhuys, At the Front, 156. 137. G leijeses, Visions of Freedom, 188. See also George, Cuban Intervention in Angola, 141. 138. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 144, 168; Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 99. 194 notes to pages 102–109 139. G leijeses, Visions of Freedom, 189. 140. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 162. 141. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 109–110. 142. Steenkamp, South Africa’s Border War, 112. 143. S choltz, SADF in the Border War, 182. 144. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 167. 145. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 184. 146. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, 187–191. 147. G leijeses, Visions of Freedom, 251–252. 148. G leijeses, Visions of Freedom, 181. 149. Gleijeses, “From Cassinga to New York,” 207. 150. Gleijeses, Visions of Freedom, 181–183. 151. Breytenbach, interview; Zazeraj, interview. 152. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 216. 153. de Vries, interview. 154. Opperman, interview. 155. Dippenaar, interview. 156. Quoted in Miller, African Volk, 201. 157. For example, “Recent Developments in US- SA Relations,” n.d., DIRCO 1/33/3, vol. 31. 158. Pieter Snyman, interview with the author, Ruimsig, June 24, 2014. 159. Ambassador Shearar to the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, February 3, 1977, DIRCO 1/33/3, vol. 39A. 160. de Vries, interview. 161. “Impact Upon U.S. Security of a South African Nuclear Weapons Capability,” April 1, 1981, CIAA CREST, General CIA Reco rds, document RDP87T00126R001201660002-2. 162. F or example, Robert Turner to Hon. Major R. Owens, October 22, 1984, Reagan Presi- dential Library, Simi Valley, California (REAG), CO141 (South Africa), box 165, folder 247000. 163. Mona Charen to Patrick Buchanan, July 29, 1985, REAG, CO141 (South Africa), box 165, folder 275000. 164. “Po liti cal Relations with the Reagan Administration,” n.d., DIRCO 1/33/3, vol. 74. 165. Crocker to the Secretary of State, May 1981, DIRCO 1/33/3, vol. 77. 166. T heresa Papenfus, Pik Botha and His Times (Pretoria: Litera Publications, 2010), 541. 167. Sasha Polakow- Suransky, The Unspoken Alliance: Israel’s Secret Relationship with Apart- heid South Africa (New York: Pantheon Books, 2010); Peter Liberman, “Israel and the South African Bomb,” Nonproliferation Review 11, no. 2 (2004): 46–80; Von Wielligh and Von Wielligh- Steyn, The Bomb, part 5. 168. Dippenaar, interview. 169. Polakow- Suransky, Unspoken Alliance, 6. 170. Scholtz, SADF in the Border War, xiv. 171. S . Paul Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent: Nuclear Weapons Proliferation and Conflict in South Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2007). 172. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 218. 173. W hether South Africa had revisionist preferences is somewhat debatable. South Africa certainly had status quo preferences at a strategic level—it sought to preserve its position in southern Africa and uphold the domestic po litic al institutions of apartheid in the face of in- creasing international isolation and condemnation. However, South Africa also had some revi- sionist preferences with re spect to its neighbors at a tactical level (for example, seeking the fall of the MPLA government in Angola). 174. B reytenbach, interview. 175. Steward, interview. 176. Military expenditure figures are taken from the Correlates of War Proje ct and are in 2010 US dollars. 177. F igures on South African military expenditure used data from the Correlates of War Proje ct. 195 notes to pages 109–120 178. B reytenbach, interview. 179. S tumpf, interview. 180. Liberman, “Rise and Fall of the South African Bomb,” 72. 181. Buys, interview. 4. The Foundations of a New World Order 1. The existence of a vast historiography on the origins of the Cold War that profoundly di- vides on t hese questions does not help in resolving t hese issues. See, for example, Howard Jones and Randall B. Woods, “Origins of the Cold War in Eur ope and the Near East: Recent Historiog- raphy and the National Security Imperative,” Diplomatic History, 17, no. 2 (1993): 251–276. 2. Lawrence Freedman, The Evolution of Nuclear Strategy, 3rd ed. (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 16–20; Wilson D. Miscamble, The Most Controversial Decision: Truman, the Atomic Bombs, and the Defeat of Japan (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 14. 3. O n the impact that prior thinking about strategic bombing had on the way in which nuclear weapons w ere initially understood, see Freedman, Evolution of Nuclear Strategy, chap. 1; Miscamble, Most Controversial Decision, 12–15. 4. Richard Rhodes, The Making of the Atomic Bomb (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1995), 405. 5. Aide- Memoire of Conversation between Roo sev elt and Churchill, September 19, 1944, in FRUS, Conference at Quebec, 1944, document 299, FRUS documents available at https:// history .s tate. g ov /h istoricaldocuments. 6. “ Notes of the Interim Committee Meeting,” June 1, 1945, Truman Presidential Library, In de pen dence, Missouri (TRUM), Papers of R. Gordon Arneson, box 1. 7. The gun-t ype device was considered sufficiently reliable and thus a full nuclear test was not needed. 8. T hat both devices would be ready by August 1945 was in line with General Leslie Groves’s expectations six months e arlier. See Groves to Marshall, December 30, 1945, in FRUS Diplomatic Papers, Conferences at Malta and Yalta, 1945, document 262. 9. Paul Kennedy, The Rise and Fall of the G reat Powers: Economic Change and Military Conflict from 1500 to 2000 (London: Harper Collins, 1989), 461–462. 10. Melvyn P. Leffler, A Preponderance of Power: National Security, the Truman Administration, and the Cold War (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1992), 2; Paul C. Avey, “Confronting Soviet Power: U.S. Policy during the Early Cold War,” International Security 36, no. 4 (2012): 159. 11. Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 2. 12. T homas C. Schelling, Arms and Influence (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1966), 19. 13. R ichard Smoke, War: Controlling Escalation (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978), 32. 14. “The United States Strategic Bombing Survey: The Effects of Atomic Bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki,” June 30, 1946, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, Confidential File, box 3, File on “Atomic Bomb and Energy, August 1945–N ovember 1947.” T hese casualty estimates are today regarded as significantly underestimating the numbers of fatalities. 15. “Minutes of Meeting Held at the White House,” June 18, 1945, in FRUS: Diplomatic Pa- pers, The Conference of Berlin (The Potsdam Conference), vol. 1, document 598. 16. “The United States Strategic Bombing Survey: The Effects of Atomic Bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki (June 30, 1946),” TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, Confidential File, box 3, File on “Atomic Bomb and Energy, August 1945– November 1947.” 17. W ard Wilson, “The Winning Weapon? Rethinking Nuclear Weapons in Light of Hiro- shima,” International Security 31, no. 4 (2007): 167–171. It also remains a matter of debate w hether the nuclear attacks on Japan did indeed cause Japa nese surrender. For a sampling of this lite r at ure, see Robert J. C. Butow, Japan’s Decision to Surrender (Stanford, CA: Stanford Uni- versity Press, 1954); Gar Alperovitz, Atomic Diplomacy: Hiroshima and Potsdam; The Use of the Atomic Bomb and the American Confrontation with Soviet Power (New York: Vintage, 1965); Robert James Maddox, Weapons for Victory: The Hiroshima Decision (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1995); Robert A. Pape, “Why Japan Surrendered,” International Security 18, no. 2 (1993): 196 notes to pages 120–124 154–201; Tsuyoshi Hasegawa, Racing the Enemy: Stalin, Truman, and the Surrender of Japan (Cam- bridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2005); Wilson, “Winning Weapon?”; Miscamble, Most Controversial Decision. The effect of nuclear weapons on Japan ese beh av ior, however, is less import ant h ere than the effect of nuclear weapons on US calculations and beh av ior. 18. W ilson, “Winning Weapon?,” 167. See also Freedman, Evolution of Nuclear Strategy, 16–20. 19. Wilson, “Winning Weapon?,” 167–168. 20. Herbert Feis, The Atomic Bomb and the End of World War II (Princet on, NJ: Princet on Uni- versity Press, 1966), 36. 21. “Notes of the Interim Committee Meeting,” May 31, 1945, TRUM, R. Gordon Arneson Papers, box 1. 22. “Statement by the President Announcing the Use of the A- Bomb at Hiroshima,” August 6, 1945, Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States (PPPUS), Harry S. Truman, 1945, doc- ument 93. 23. W ebb to Truman, July 22, 1948, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 175, file 5. 24. F or example, J. Samuel Walker, “The Decision to Use the Bomb: A Historiographical Up- date,” in Ameri ca in the World: The Historiography of American Foreign Relations since 1945, ed. Michael J. Hogan (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 216. 25. H enry L. Stimson, “The Decision to Use the Atomic Bomb,” Harper’s Magazine 194, no. 1161 (1947): 98. 26. M artin J. Sherwin, A World Destroyed: Hiroshima and Its Legacies, 3rd ed. (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2003), 194–195. 27. Leslie R. Groves, Now It Can Be Told: The Story of the Manhattan Proje ct (New York: De Capo Press, 1975), 49. 28. “Minutes of a Meeting of the Combined Policy Committee,” July 4, 1945, in FRUS: Dip- lomatic Papers, The Conference of Berlin (The Potsdam Conference), vol. 1, document 619. 29. “ Radio Report to the American P eople on the Potsdam Conference,” August 9, 1945, PPPUS, Harry S. Truman, 1945, document 97. 30. Stimson, “Decision to Use the Atomic Bomb,” 98. 31. Quoted in Rhodes, Making of the Atomic Bomb, 406. 32. Quoted in Rhodes, Making of the Atomic Bomb, 407. 33. Quoted in Miscamble, Most Controversial Decision, 8. 34. F or example, Memorandum by Leslie R. Groves, May 5, 1943, NSA Electronic Briefing Book 525, document 3. See also Gregg Herken, The Winning Weapon: The Atomic Bomb in the Cold War, 1945–1950 (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1980), 13; Sherwin, World Destroyed, 209. 35. Quoted in Herken, Winning Weapon, 13. For an account that acknowledges the racial dimension of the use of nuclear weapons against Japan but concludes that the United States would nonetheless have been prepared to use nuclear weapons against Germany had the bomb been ready in time, see Matthew Jones, A fter Hiroshima: The United States, Race and Nuclear Weapons in Asia, 1945–1965 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 22–23. 36. Quoted in Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 37. 37. Quoted in Herken, Winning Weapon, 20–21. 38. For discussion of the evolution of the terms of Japan ese surrender, see Miscamble, Most Controversial Decision, chap. 6. 39. Quoted in Miscamble, Most Controversial Decision, 101. 40. Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 31, 83, 88. 41. L effler, Preponderance of Power, 81, 83. See also Melvyn P. Leffler, “Adherence to Agree- ments: Yalta and the Experiences of the Early Cold War,” International Security 11, no. 1 (1986): 88–123. 42. Quoted in Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 33. 43. Wilson D. Miscamble, From Roo sev elt to Truman: Potsdam, Hiroshima, and the Cold War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 226. For broader discussion of Soviet reactions to the Hiroshima bombing, see David Holloway, Stalin and the Bomb: The Soviet Union and Atomic Energy, 1939–1956 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996), 127–129. 197 notes to pages 124–130 44. M iscamble, Most Controversial Decision, 70. 45. R ichard B. Frank, Downfall: The End of the Imperial Japa nese Empire (New York: Random House, 1999), 323–324; Miscamble, Most Controversial Decision, 111. 46. Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 34. See also Sherwin, World Destroyed, 198–199. For the view that the United States used nuclear weapons primarily to intimidate the Soviet Union rather than to defeat Japan, see Alperovitz, Atomic Diplomacy. 47. Rhodes, Making of the Atomic Bomb, 405. 48. For an overview of the debate, see Jones and Woods, “Origins of the Cold War in Eur ope and the Near East.” 49. John Lewis Gaddis, “The Emerging Post-R evisionist Synthesis on the Origins of the Cold War,” Diplomatic History 7, no. 3 (1983): 171–190. For responses to Gaddis, see Lloyd C. Gard- ner, Lawrence S. Kaplan, Warren F. Kimball, and Bruce R. Kuniholm, “Responses to John Lewis Gaddis, “The Emerging Post-R evisionist Synthesis on the Origins of the Cold War,” Diplomatic History 7, no. 3 (1983): 191–204. 50. For examples of works that adopt this view, see Marc Trachtenberg, A Constructed Peace: The Making of the Eu ro pean Settlement, 1945–1963 (Prince ton, NJ: Princet on University Press, 1999); Mark S. Sheetz, “Exit Strategies: American Grand Designs for Postwar Eu ro pean Secu- rity,” Security Studies 8, no. 4 (1999): 1–43; James McAllister, No Exit: Ameri ca and the German Prob lem, 1943–1954 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2002); Michael Creswell, A Question of Balance: How France and the United States Created Cold War Eu rope (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006); Brendan Rittenh ouse Green, “Two Concepts of Liberty: U.S. Cold War G rand Strategies and the Liberal Tradition,” International Security 37, no. 2 (2012): 9–43. 51. Sheetz, “Exit Strategies,” 4. 52. Green, “Two Concepts of Liberty,” 9. 53. F or examples of this view, see Leffler, Preponderance of Power; Christopher Layne, “The ‘Poster Child for Offensive Realism’: Ameri c a as a Global Hegemon,” Security Studies 12, no. 2 (2002): 120–164; Christopher Layne, The Peace of Illusions: American Grand Strategy from 1940 to the Pre sent (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006). 54. Layne, “ ‘Poster Child for Offensive Realism,’ ” 152. 55. F rancis J. Gavin, “Strategies of Inhibition: U.S. G rand Strategy, the Nuclear Revolution, and Nonproliferation,” International Security 40, no. 1 (2015): 16n22. 56. S ecretary of State to the Acting Secretary of State, September 15, 1950, in FRUS 1950, vol. 3, document 573. 57. R . Alton Lee, “The ‘Army Mutiny’ of 1946,” Journal of American History 53, no. 3 (1966): 555. 58. Version 4.0 of the National Material Capabilities Dataset. 59. S ecretary of State to the Secretary of Defense, March 23, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 1, part 2, document 8. 60. Q uoted in David Mayers, George Kennan and the Dilemmas of US Foreign Policy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 304. 61. “Review of the World Situation as It Relates to the Security of the United States,” Septem- ber 26, 1947, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 177, file 5. 62. “Draft Report by the National Security Council on United States Policy on Atomic War- fare,” n.d., in FRUS 1948, vol. 1, part 2, document 42. 63. Walter Millis, ed., The Forrestal Diaries (New York: Viking Press, 1951), 538. 64. “ Minutes of a Meeting of the Policy Planning Staff, Department of State,” November 3, 1949, in FRUS 1949, vol. 1, document 212. 65. “ NSC 68: United States Objectives and Programs for National Security,” April 14, 1950, Woodrow Wilson Center Digital Archive (WWCDA), document 116191. 66. “Paper Prepared by Leon W. Fuller of the Policy Planning Staff,” September 10, 1954, in FRUS 1952–1954, vol. 5, part 2, document 39. 67. F or example, Michael Mandelbaum, The Nuclear Question: The United States and Nuclear Weapons, 1946–1976 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1979), 55–60. 68. M emorandum for the Chairman, August 15, 1951, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 177, file 1. 198 notes to pages 130–134 69. T rachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 89–90. 70. W ilson D. Miscamble, George F. Kennan and the Making of American Foreign Policy, 1947– 1950 (Princet on, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1992), 298. 71. Quoted in Matthew A. Evangelista, “Stalin’s Postwar Army Reappraised,” International Security 7, no. 3 (1982): 110. 72. “Cata log of Commitments Involving the Use or Poss ib le Use of United States Armed Forces,” September 1, 1948, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, Confidential File, box 170, file 2. 73. Trachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 89. See also Herken, Winning Weapon, 225–229; David Alan Rosenberg, “The Origins of Overkill: Nuclear Weapons and American Strategy, 1945– 1960,” International Security 7, no. 4 (1983): 12–13. 74. “Evaluation of Effect on Soviet War Effort Resulting from the Strategic Air Offensive,” May 11, 1949, in Containment: Documents on American Policy and Strategy, 1945–1950, ed. Thomas H. Etzold and John Lewis Gaddis (New York: Columbia University Press, 1978), 360–364. 75. T he Secretary of State in Paris to the Acting Secretary of State, November 8, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 1, part 2, document 58; The Secretary of State in Paris to the Acting Secretary of State, November 8, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 1, part 2, document 59. 76. M elvyn P. Leffler, “The American Conception of National Security and the Beginnings of the Cold War, 1945–1948,” American Historical Review 89, no. 2 (1984): 371–373. 77. Avi Shlaim, The United States and the Berlin Blockade, 1948–1949: A Study in Crisis Decision-M aking (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 254. 78. Scott D. Sagan, Moving Targets: Nuclear Strategy and National Security (Princet on, NJ: Princet on University Press, 1989), 15. 79. Quoted in Shlaim, United States and the Berlin Blockade, 255. 80. The Joint Chiefs of Staff to the Secretary of State, March 29, 1946, in FRUS 1946, vol. 1, document 590. 81. “ For the Common Defense (July 1, 1943 to June 30, 1945),” in George C. Marshall, Bien- nial Reports of the Chief of Staff of the United States Army to the Secretary of War, 1 July 1939–30 June 1945 (Washington, DC: Center of Military History, United States Army, 1996), 210. 82. Quoted in Gabriel Kolko, The Politics of War: The World and United States Foreign Policy, 1943–1945 (New York: Random House, 1968), 400. 83. J oint Chiefs of Staff to the Secretary of State, November 7, 1945, in FRUS 1946, vol. 1, docu- ment 580. 84. Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 56. 85. Layne, “ ‘Poster Child for Offensive Realism,’ ” 141. 86. Memorandum by Groves, January 2, 1946, in FRUS 1946, vol. 1, document 600. 87. “ Statement of Effect of Atomic Weapons on National Security and Military Organi zation,” February 6, 1946, Digital National Security Archive (DNSA), Collection on U.S. Nuclear Non- Proliferation Policy, 1945–1991, NP00019, 46, 48. 88. “Current Strategic Evaluation of the U.S. Security Needs in Japan,” June 15, 1949, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 173, file 2. 89. “ Overall Effect of Atomic Bomb on Warfare and Military Organi zation,” October 30, 1945, DNSA, Collection on U.S. Nuclear Non- Proliferation Policy, 1945–1991, NP00007. 90. “ Guidance on Military Aspects of United States Policy to Be Adopted in Event of Con- tinuing Impasse in Acc ept ance of International Control of Atomic Energy,” July 14, 1947, DNSA, Collection on U.S. Nuclear Non- Proliferation Policy, 1945–1991, NP00044. 91. Memorandum Prepared by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, March 27, 1946, in FRUS 1946, vol. 1, part 1, document 589. 92. J ohn Lewis Gaddis, Strategies of Containment: A Critical Appraisal of American National Secu- rity Policy during the Cold War, rev. ed (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 22. 93. Memorandum Prepared in the Department of State, February 6, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 4, document 26. 94. S tephen G. Xydis, “The Truman Doctrine in Perspective,” Balkan Studies 8, no. 2 (1967): 257. 199 notes to pages 134–138 95. L effler, Preponderance of Power, 124. 96. H oward Jones, A New Kind of War: Amer i ca’s Global Strategy and the Truman Doctrine in Greece (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 36. 97. T rachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 38–41. 98. Acting Secretary of State to the Secretary of State, at Paris, August 15, 1946, in FRUS 1946, vol. 8, document 655. 99. Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 124; Eduard Mark, “The War Scare of 1946 and Its Con- sequences,” Diplomatic History 21, no. 3 (1997): 385–386. 100. “Address of the President of the United States,” March 12, 1947, TRUM Papers of George M. Elsey, box 11. 101. Quoted in Trachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 81. 102. “Address of the President of the United States,” March 12, 1947, TRUM Papers of George M. Elsey, box 11. 103. G addis, Strategies of Containment, 57–58; Trachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 87–88. 104. “ A Report to the President Pursuant to the President’s Directive of January 31, 1950,” April 7, 1950, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 176, file 2. 105. For work on US covert and psychological warfare against the Soviet Union, see Scott Lucas, Freedom’s War: The U.S. Crusade against the Soviet Union, 1945–56 (Manchester: Manches- ter University Press, 1999); Gregory Mitrovich, Undermining the Kremlin: Amer i ca’s Strategy to Subvert the Soviet Bloc, 1947–1956 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2000); Kenneth A. Os- good, “Form before Substance: Eisenhower’s Commitment to Psychological Warfare and Nego- tiations with the Enemy,” Diplomatic History 24, no. 3 (2000): 405–433; Peter Grose, Operation Rollback: Ameri c a’s Secret War behind the Iron Curtain (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2000). 106. Mitrovich, Undermining the Kremlin, 17–18. 107. “Report to the President by the National Security Council,” November 23, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 1, part 2, document 61. 108. “ National Security Council Directive on Office of Special Proj ects,” June 18, 1948, in FRUS 1945–1950 (Retrospective Volume), document 292. 109. M itrovich, Undermining the Kremlin, 182. 110. “ National Security Council Prog ress Report by the Acting Secretary of State on the Im- plementation of United States Policy t oward the Soviet Satellite States in Eastern Eur ope,” May 29, 1950, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 173, file 3; “A Report to the President Pursuant to the President’s Directive of January 31, 1950,” April 7, 1950, TRUM, Papers of Harry S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, box 176, file 2. 111. Quoted in Ronald R. Krebs, Dueling Visions: U.S. Strategy t oward Eastern Eur ope under Eisenhower (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2001), 12. 112. F or a summary of US thinking about preventive war in this period, see Marc Trachten- berg, “A ‘Wasting Asset’: American Strategy and the Shifting Nuclear Balance, 1949–1954,” In- ternational Security 13, no. 3 (1988): 7–11; Marc Trachtenberg, “Preventive War and U.S. Foreign Policy,” Security Studies 16, no. 1 (2007): 4–8; Keir A. Lieber, War and the Engineers: The Primacy of Politics over Technology (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005), 134–140. 113. Quoted in George H. Quester, Nuclear Mono poly (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Pub- lishers, 2000), 38. 114. T rachtenberg, “ ‘Wasting Asset,’ ” 7–11; Trachtenberg, “Preventive War and U.S. Foreign Policy,” 4–8. 115. “ Relations between the Big Three,” May 13, 1946, DNSA, Collection on U.S. Nuclear Non- proliferation Policy, 1945–1991, NP00025, 7. 116. Rosenberg, “Origins of Overkill,” 15–16. 117. T rachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 89. 118. T rachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 91. 119. M emorandum by the Acting Department of State Member (Matthews) to the State– War– Navy Coordinating Committee, April 1, 1946, in FRUS 1946, vol. 1, document 591. See also Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 111–112. 120. Quoted in Millis, Forrestal Diaries, 350–351. 200 notes to pages 138–144 121. H erken, Winning Weapon, 247. Forrestal did qualify that apparently confident assertion with an acknowl edgment that “one always has to remember that there seemed to be no reason in 1939 for Hitler to start war, and yet he did.” Millis, Forrestal Diaries, 395. 122. Mitrovich, Undermining the Kremlin, 155–171. 123. S timson Diary Entries, May 14–15, 1945, NSA Electronic Briefing Book 525, docu- ment 12. 124. Quoted in Leffler, Preponderance of Power, 116. 125. Quoted in Herken, Winning Weapon, 43. 126. Robert A. Pollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War: Bretton Woods, the Marshall Plan, and American Rearmament, 1944–50,” Diplomatic History 9, no. 3 (1985): 271–272. 127. Gaddis, “Emerging Post- Revisionist Synthesis on the Origins of the Cold War,” 1983. 128. Pollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War,” 273. 129. Jones and Woods, “Origins of the Cold War in Eur ope and the Near East,” 238; Gavin, “Strategies of Inhibition,” 14. 130. Quoted in Pollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War,” 273. 131. Pollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War,” 276–277. 132. O n the Marshall Plan, see John Gimbel, The Origins of the Marshall Plan (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1976); Michael J. Hogan, The Marshall Plan: Amer ic a, Britain and the Reconstruction of Western Eu rope, 1947–1952 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989); Gabriel Kolko and Joyce Kolko, The Limits of Power: The World and United States Foreign Policy, 1945–1954 (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), chaps. 13, 16–17. 133. Pollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War,” 279; Layne, Peace of Illu- sions, 78–79. 134. Acheson to the Secretary of State, February 21, 1947, in FRUS 1947, vol. 5, document 23. 135. P ollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War,” 283–285; Layne, Peace of Illusions, 79–80. 136. Gaddis, “Emerging Post- Revisionist Synthesis on the Origins of the Cold War,” 180. 137. Millis, Forrestal Diaries, 350. Ultimately, rebuilding Eur ope’s economy took priority over redressing the conventional imbalance that the West faced. Trachtenberg, Constructed Peace, 90. 138. Pollard, “Economic Security and the Origins of the Cold War,” 288. 139. “ Minutes of the 148th Meeting of the Policy Planning Staff,” October 11, 1949, in FRUS 1949, vol. 4, document 148. 140. Quoted in Marc Trachtenberg, History and Strategy (Princet on, NJ: Princet on University Press, 1991), 120n70. 141. Loy Henderson to Karl Rankin, March 25, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 4, document 47. 142. “ Report to the National Security Council by the Executive Secretary of the Council,” May 25, 1948, in FRUS 1948, vol. 4, document 67. 143. F or a broader discussion of the theory of the nuclear revolution and US postwar g rand strategy, see Francis J. Gavin, “Rethinking the Bomb: Nuclear Weapons and American Grand Strategy,” Texas National Security Review 2, no. 1 (2018): 74–100. 144. Gavin, “Rethinking the Bomb,” 79. 145. Rosenberg, “Origins of Overkill”; James Cameron, The Double Game: The Demise of Amer ic a’s First Missile Defense System and the Rise of Strategic Arms Limitation (New York: Oxford University Press, 2017), chaps. 1–3; Gavin, “Rethinking the Bomb,” 80. 146. Cameron, Double Game, 5. 147. I ndeed, arms control efforts may have contributed to the value of qualitative superior- ity by reducing the quantity of missiles that both sides possessed. See John D. Maurer, “The Purposes of Arms Control,” Texas National Security Review 2, no. 1 (2018): 8–27. 148. Brendan Ritten house Green and Austin Long, “The MAD Who Wasn’t There: Soviet Re- actions to the Late Cold War Strategic Balance,” Security Studies 26, no. 4 (2017): 606–641; Nic- colo Petrelli and Giordana Pulcini, “Nuclear Superiority in the Age of Parity: US Planning, In- telligence Analys is, Weapons Innovation and the Search for a Qualitative Edge 1969–1976,” International History Review 40, no. 5 (2018): 1191–1209. 201 notes to pages 144–147 149. F or example, Charles L. Glaser, “Why Even Good Defenses May Be Bad,” International Security 9, no. 2 (1984): 92–123. 150. E arl C. Ravenal, “Counterforce and Alliance: The Ultimate Connection,” International Se- curity 6, no. 4 (1982): 34. See also R. Harrison Wagner, “Nuclear Deterrence, Counterforce Strate- gies, and the Incentive to Strike First,” American Pol itic al Science Review 85, no. 3 (1991): 727–749. 151. Desmond Ball, “U.S. Strategic Forces: How Would They Be Used?,” International Secu- rity 7, no. 3 (1982): 34; Lieber, War and the Engineers, 142. 152. Matthew Fuhrmann and Todd S. Sechser, “Nuclear Strategy, Nonproliferation, and the Causes of Foreign Nuclear Deployments,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 58, no. 3 (2014): 466. 153. S ee, for example, Nicholas L. Miller, “Nuclear Dominoes: A Self-D efeating Prophecy?,” Security Studies 23, no. 1 (2014): 33–73; Nicholas L. Miller, “The Secret Success of Nonprolifera- tion Sanctions,” International Organ ization 68, no. 4 (2014): 913–944; Nicholas L. Miller, Stopping the Bomb: The Sources and Effectiveness of U.S. Nonproliferation Policy (Ithaca, NY: Cornell Univer- sity Press, 2018); Or Rabinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests: Washington and Its Cold War Deals (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014); Matthew Kroenig, “Force or Friendship? Explaining Great Power Nonproliferation Policy,” Security Studies 23, no. 1 (2014): 1–32; Gene Gerzhoy, “Alliance Coercion and Nuclear Restraint: How the United States Thwarted West Germany’s Nuclear Ambitions,” International Security 39, no. 4 (2015): 91–129; Gavin, “Strategies of Inhibi- tion”; Andrew Coe and Jane Vaynman, “Superpower Collusion and the Nuclear Nonprolifera- tion Treaty,” Journal of Politics 77, no. 4 (2015): 983–997; Or Rabinowitz and Nicholas L. Miller, “Keeping the Bombs in the Basement: U.S. Nonproliferation Policy t oward Israel, South Africa, and Pakistan,” International Security 40, no. 1 (2015): 47–86. For the counterargument that US nonproliferation policy has been less consistent, see, for example, Thomas P. Cavanna, “Geo- politics over Proliferation: The Origins of US G rand Strategy and Their Implications for the Spread of Nuclear Weapons in South Asia,” Journal of Strategic Studies 41, no. 4 (2018): 576–603; Galen Jackson, “The United States, the Israeli Nuclear Program, and Nonproliferation, 1961– 69,” Security Studies 28, no. 2 (2019): 360–393. 154. On US- Soviet cooperation, see Gavin, “Strategies of Inhibition,” 17–18; Coe and Vayn- man, “Superpower Collusion and the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty.” 155. Gavin, “Strategies of Inhibition.” 156. White House, National Security Strategy (Washington, DC: The White House, 2015), 8. 157. D epartment of Defense, Nuclear Posture Review (Arlington, VA: Department of De- fense, 2018), xii. 5. Past and F uture Proliferators 1. N onetheless, it is at least plausible that the Soviet Union engaged in more expansive foreign policies a fter acquiring nuclear weapons, as the theory of nuclear opportunism would predict. In the aftermath of acquiring nuclear weapons, the Soviet Union expanded its interests in Asia, most notably by reversing its cautious attitude t oward the Chinese revolution and signing an alliance with the PRC, approving the transfer of substantial military capabilities to North Korea and ultimately approving Kim Il Sung’s attack on South K orea. See, for example, David Holloway, Stalin and the Bomb: The Soviet Union and Atomic Energy, 1939–1956 (New Ha- ven, CT: Yale University Press, 1996), chap. 13. Similarly, a fter acquiring the ability to target the United States in the late 1950s, the Soviet Union engaged in a second round of expansive and assertive foreign policies, triggering both the Berlin Crisis and the Cuban Missile Crisis. See, for example, Marc Trachtenberg, History and Strategy (Princet on, NJ: Princet on University Press, 1991), chaps. 5–6; Michael D. Cohen, When Proliferation Causes Peace: The Psy chol ogy of Nu- clear Crises (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2017), chap. 3. 2. O n North Korean capabilities, see, for example, Jacques E. C. Hymans, “When Does a State Become a ‘Nuclear Weapon State’? An Exercise in Mea sure ment Validation,” Nonprolifera- tion Review 17, no. 1 (2010): 162–163; Vipin Narang, “Nuclear Strategies of Emerging Nuclear Powers: North K orea and Iran,” Washington Quarterly 38, no. 1 (2015): 73–91; Nicholas L. Miller 202 notes to pages 148–151 and Vipin Narang, “North K orea Defied the Theoretical Odds: What Can We Learn from Its Suc- cessful Nuclearization?,” Texas National Security Review 1, no. 2 (2018): 58–75. 3. This quote is attributed to Pakistani president Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. 4. F or discussions of when Pakistan acquired the relevant capabilities, see Feroz Hassan Khan, Eating Grass: The Making of the Pakistani Bomb (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2012); Vipin Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era: Regional Powers and International Con- flict (Princet on, NJ: Princet on University Press, 2014), chaps. 3, 10; S. Paul Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent: Nuclear Weapons Proliferation and Conflict in South Asia (Stanford, CA: Stanford Uni- versity Press, 2007). 5. Quoted in Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 264. For more on the Brasstacks crisis, see Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 260–265; Sumit Ganguly and Devin T. Hagerty, Fearful Symmetry: India- Pakistan Crises in the Shadow of Nuclear Weapons (Seattle: Uni- versity of Washington Press, 2005), chap. 4; P. R. Chari, Pervaiz Iqbal, and Stephen P. Cohen, Four Crises and a Peace Proc ess: American Engagement in South Asia (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2007), chap. 3. 6. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 264; Chari, Iqbal, and Cohen, Four Crises and a Peace Pro cess, 66–67. 7. Quoted in Khan, Eating Grass, 230. 8. Quoted in Khan, Eating Grass, 230. See also Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 266. 9. K han, Eating Grass, 229–232. See also Chari, Iqbal, and Cohen, Four Crises and a Peace Pro cess, 101–103. 10. On the Kargil War, see Bruce Riedel, American Diplomacy and the 1999 Kargil Summit at Blair House (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Center for the Advanced Study of India, 2002); Ashley J. Tellis, C. Christine Fair, and Jamison Jo Medby, Limited Conflicts under the Nu- clear Umbrella: Indian and Pakistani Lessons from the Kargil Crisis (Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 2002); Ved Prakesh Malik, Kargil: From Surprise to Victory (Delhi: Harper Collins, 2006); Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent, chap. 6; Chari, Iqbal, and Cohen, Four Crises and a Peace Pro- cess, chap. 5; Peter Lavoy, ed., Asymmetric Warfare in South Asia: The C auses and Consequences of the Kargil Conflict (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009). 11. Chari, Iqbal, and Cohen, Four Crises and a Peace Proc ess, 139; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 270–272. 12. Quoted in Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 270. 13. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 270. 14. Quoted in Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 272. 15. Quoted in Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 272. 16. Kargil Review Committee, From Surprise to Reckoning: The Kargil Review Committee Re- port (New Delhi: Sage, 2006), 225. 17. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 273–282. 18. C. Christine Fair, Fighting to the End: The Pakistan Army’s Way of War (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 203. 19. Vipin Narang, “Posturing for Peace? Pakistan’s Nuclear Postures and South Asian Sta- bility,” International Security 34, no. 3 (2009–2010): 39. 20. S. Paul Kapur, “Ten Years of Instability in a Nuclear South Asia,” International Security 33, no. 2 (2008): 72. 21. S ee, for example, Tellis, Fair, and Medby, Limited Conflicts under the Nuclear Umbrella; S. Paul Kapur, “India and Pakistan’s Unstable Peace: Why Nuclear South Asia Is Not Like Cold War Eu rope,” International Security 30, no. 2 (2005): 127–152; Kapur, Dangerous Deterrent; Kapur, “Ten Years of Instability”; Narang, “Posturing for Peace?”; Fair, Fighting to the End. 22. Quoted in Kapur, “India and Pakistan’s Unstable Peace,” 145. 23. Quoted in Kapur, “India and Pakistan’s Unstable Peace,” 143. 24. K han, Eating Grass, 207. 25. For discussions of the development of India’s nuclear program, see Scott D. Sagan, “Why Do States Build Nuclear Weapons? Three Models in Search of a Bomb,” International Security 21, no. 3 (1996/1997): 65–69; Itty Abraham, The Making of the Indian Atomic Bomb: Science, Secrecy and 203 notes to pages 151–153 the Postcolonial State (London: Zed Books, 1998); Sumit Ganguly, “India’s Pathway to Pokhran II: The Prospects and Sources of New Delhi’s Nuclear Weapons Program,” International Security 23, no. 4 (1999): 148–177; George Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb: The Impact on Global Proliferation (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2002); Jacques E. C. Hymans, The Psyc hol ogy of Nu- clear Proliferation: Identity, Emotions and Foreign Policy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), chap. 7; Gaurav Kampani, “New Delhi’s Long Nuclear Journey: How Secrecy and Institu- tional Roadblocks Delayed India’s Weaponization,” International Security 38, no. 4 (2014): 79–114; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 4; Vipin Narang, “Strategies of Nuclear Prolif- eration: How States Pursue the Bomb,” International Security 41, no. 3 (2017): 110–150. 26. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 111–112. 27. Baldev Raj Nayar and T. V. Paul, India in the World Order: Searching for Major- Power Status (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 214. 28. Nayar and Paul, India in the World Order, 2–3. 29. Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb, 14, 59. 30. N arang, “Strategies of Nuclear Proliferation,” 136. See also Abraham, Making of the In- dian Atomic Bomb. 31. H ymans argues that it was only in 1998, with the coming to power of a leader with an “oppositional nationalist” NIC, that India dec ided to publicly test a nuclear weapon. But he ar- gues that the development of India’s nuclear technologies over the preceding dec ades and res is- tance to the US-l ed nonproliferation regime can be explained by the “sportsmanlike nationalism” of previous Indian prime ministers. Hymans, Psyc holo gy of Nuclear Proliferation, chap. 7. 32. R oss H. Munro, “The Loser: India in the Nineties,” National Interest, no. 32 (1993): 62–63. See also James Chiriyankandath, “Realigning India: Indian Foreign Policy a fter the Cold War,” Round T able 93, no. 374 (2004): 199; Ganguly, “India’s Pathway to Pokhran II,” 167. 33. T hongkholal Haokip, “India’s Look East Policy: Its Evolution and Approach,” South Asian Survey 18, no. 2 (2011): 239. See also G. V. C. Naidu, “Whither the Look East Policy: India and Southeast Asia,” Strategic Analy sis 28, no. 2 (2004): 331–346; Rajiv Sikri, “India’s ‘Look East’ Policy,” Asia Pacific Review 16, no. 1 (2009): 131–145. 34. A shok Kapur, India: From Regional to World Power (New York: Routledge, 2006), 5. 35. R ohan Mukherjee and David M. Malone, “Indian Foreign Policy and Cont emporary Se- curity Challenges,” International Affairs 87, no. 1 (2011): 89. 36. S andy Gordon, India’s Rise to Power (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995), 121. 37. Haokip, “India’s Look East Policy,” 243. 38. Nayar and Paul, India in the World Order, 231. 39. For example, Michal Smetana, “(De-)stigmatising the Outsider: Nuclear-A rmed India, United States, and the Global Nonproliferation Order,” Journal of International Relations and De- velopment, forthcoming. 40. Ashton B. Cart er, “Amer i ca’s New Strategic Partner?,” Foreign Affairs 85, no. 4 (2006): 33. 41. O n the French nuclear program, see Lawrence Scheinman, Atomic Energy Policy in France under the Fourth Republic (Prince ton, NJ: Prince ton University Press, 1965); Wolf Mendl, Deterrence and Persuasion: French Nuclear Armament in the Context of National Policy, 1945–1969 (London: Faber & Faber, 1970); Wilfrid L. Kohl, French Nuclear Diplomacy (Princet on, NJ: Prince- ton University Press, 1971); Pierre Gallois, “French Defense Planning: The F uture in the Past,” International Security 1, no. 2 (1976): 15–31; David S. Yost, “France’s Deterrent Posture and Secu- rity in Eu rope, Part I: Capabilities and Doctrine,” Adelphi Papers 194 (1985): 1–72; David S. Yost, “France’s Deterrent Posture and Security in Eu rope, Part II: Strategic and Arms Control Impli- cations,” Adelphi Papers 195 (1985): 1–75; Philip H. Gordon, “Charles de Gaulle and the Nuclear Revolution,” in Cold War Statesmen Confront the Bomb: Nuclear Diplomacy since 1945, ed. John Lewis Gaddis (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); Bruno Tertrais, “ ‘Destruction Assurée’: The Origins and Development of French Nuclear Strategy, 1945–1981,” in Getting MAD: Nu- clear Mutual Assured Destruction, Its Origins and Practices, ed. Henry Sokolsi (Carlisle, PA: Stra- tegic Studies Institute, 2004): 51–122; Avery Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st C entury: China, Britain, France, and the Enduring Legacy of the Nuclear Revolution (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000), chap. 6; Hymans, Psy chol ogy of Nuclear Proliferation, chap. 4; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 6. 204 notes to pages 154–157 42. G ordon, “Charles de Gaulle and the Nuclear Revolution,” 218; Gallois, “French Defense Planning,” 17–18. On the capabilities and vulnerabilities of the Mirage bombers as a delivery vehicle, see Philip G. Cerny, The Politics of Grandeur: Ideological Aspects of De Gaulle’s Foreign Policy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980), 195. 43. F or a dif fer ent perspective that argues that the Soviet Union posed a proximate offen- sive threat to France, see Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 6. 44. Yost, “France’s Deterrent Posture and Security in Eur ope, Part I,” 1. 45. M endl, Deterrence and Persuasion, 19. 46. Gallois, “French Defense Planning,” 17. 47. K ohl, French Nuclear Diplomacy, 9. 48. Quoted in Kohl, French Nuclear Diplomacy, 234. 49. Quoted in Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 168. 50. Quoted in Kohl, French Nuclear Diplomacy, 129. 51. Quoted in Timothy Andrew Sayle, Enduring Alliance: A History of NATO and the Postwar Global Order (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2019), 47. 52. Quoted in Gallois, “French Defense Planning,” 17. 53. Quoted in Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 157. See also Gallois, “French De- fense Planning,” 17. 54. A lfred Grosser, French Foreign Policy under De Gaulle (Toronto: Little, Brown, 1967), 102–103; Hymans, Psyc hol ogy of Nuclear Proliferation, 87–113. 55. Quoted in Mendl, Deterrence and Persuasion, 57. 56. Quoted in Yost, “France’s Deterrent Posture and Security in Eur ope, Part I,” 45. 57. Frank Costigliola, “The Failed Design: Kennedy, de Gaulle, and the Strug gle for Eu rope,” Diplomatic History 8, no. 3 (1984): 235–237; Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st C entury, 193. For the argument that fears about Germany took priority over concerns about the United States in driving many of France’s nuclear decisions, see Hymans, Psyc hol ogy of Nuclear Proliferation, chap. 4. 58. Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st Century, 197. 59. Yost, “France’s Deterrent Posture and Security in Eur ope, Part I,” 5. 60. Gordon, “Charles de Gaulle and the Nuclear Revolution,” 234; Kohl, French Nuclear Diplomacy. 61. Q uoted in David S. Yost, Strategic Stability in the Cold War: Lessons for Continuing Chal- lenges (Paris: Institut Français des Relations Internationales, 2011), 30. 62. On vari ous aspects of Israel’s nuclear program and doctrine, see Shai Feldman, Israeli Nuclear Deterrence: A Strategy for the 1980s (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982); Uri Bar- Joseph, “The Hidden Debate: The Formation of Nuclear Doctrines in the M iddle East,” Jour- nal of Strategic Studies 5, no. 2 (1982): 205–227; Avner Cohen, “Stumbling into Opacity: The United States, Israel, and the Atom, 1960–63,” Security Studies 4, no. 2 (1994): 195–241; Avner Cohen, “Cairo, Dimona, and the June 1967 War,” Middle East Journal 50, no. 2 (1996): 190–210; Avner Cohen, Israel and the Bomb (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998); Avner Cohen, The Worst- Kept Secret: Israel’s Bargain with the Bomb (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010); Zeev Maoz, “The Mixed Blessing of Israel’s Nuclear Policy,” International Security 28, no. 2 (2003): 44–77; Zaki Shalom, “Israel’s Nuclear Option Revisited,” Journal of Israeli History 24, no. 2 (2005): 267–277; Michael Karpin, The Bomb in the Basement: How Israel Went Nuclear and What That Means for the World (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2006); Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 7; Or Rabinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests: Washington and Its Cold War Deals (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), chap. 5; Or Rabinowitz and Nicholas L. Miller, “Keeping the Bombs in the Basement: U.S. Nonproliferation Policy t oward Israel, South Africa, and Pakistan,” International Security 40, no. 1 (2015): 47–86. 63. Quoted in Cohen, “Stumbling into Opacity,” 199. 64. Cohen, “Cairo, Dimona, and the June 1967 War.” 65. On the 1967 war, see, for example, Martin Gilbert, Israel: A History (New York: William Morrow, 1998), chap. 22; Isabella Ginor and Gideon Remez, Foxbats over Dimona: The Soviets’ Nuclear G amble in the Six-D ay War (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2008); Guy Laron, The Six- Day War: The Breaking of the M iddle East (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2017); Cohen, “Cairo, Dimona, and the June 1967 War.” 205 notes to pages 157–161 66. C ohen, Israel and the Bomb, 275. 67. F or example, Elbridge Colby, Avner Cohen, William McCants, Bradley Morris, and Wil- liam Rosenau, The Israeli Nuclear Alert of 1973: Deterrence and Signaling in Crisis (Washington, DC: Center for Naval Analyses, 2013); Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 187–190. 68. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 189–190; Cohen, Worst-K ept Secret, 80–81; Martin Van Creveld, The Sword and the Olive: A Critical History of the Israeli Defense Force (New York: PublicAffairs, 1998), 231–232. 69. N arang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 191. 70. Rabinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests, chap. 5. 71. O n China’s nuclear program and posture, see Alice Langley Hsieh, Communist China’s Strategy in the Nuclear Era (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-H all, 1963); John Wilson Lewis and Litai Xue, China Builds the Bomb (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1991); John Wilson Lewis and Hua Di, “China’s Ballistic Missile Programs: Technologies, Strategies, Goals,” Inter- national Security 17, no. 2 (1992): 5–40; John Wilson Lewis and Litai Xue, China’s Strategic Seapower (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1996); Alastair Iain Johnston, “China’s ‘New Old Thinking’: The Concept of L imited Deterrence,” International Security 20, no. 3 (1995/1996): 5–42; Alastair Lain Johnston, “Prospects for Chinese Nuclear Force Modernization: L imited De- terrence versus Multilateral Arms Control,” China Quarterly 146 (1996): 548–576; Goldstein, Deterrence and Security in the 21st C entury, chaps. 3–4; Jeffrey G. Lewis, The Minimum Means of Reprisal: China’s Search for Security in the Nuclear Age (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007); Jing- dong Yuan, “Effective, Reliable, and Credible: China’s Nuclear Modernization,” Nonprolifera- tion Review 14, no. 2 (2007): 275–301; M. Taylor Fravel and Evan S. Medeiros, “China’s Search for Assured Retaliation: The Evolution of Chinese Nuclear Strategy and Force Structure,” Inter- national Security 35, no. 2 (2010): 48–87; Jacques E. C. Hymans, Achieving Nuclear Ambitions: Scientists, Politicians, and Proliferation (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), chap. 4; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 5; Fiona S. Cunningham and M. Taylor Fravel, “Assuring Assured Retaliation: China’s Nuclear Posture and US- China Strategic Stability,” In- ternational Security 40, no. 2 (2015): 7–50; Baohui Zhang, China’s Assertive Nuclear Posture: State Security in an Anarchic International Order (Abingdon: Routledge, 2015); Caitlin Talmadge, “Would China Go Nuclear? Assessing the Risk of Chinese Nuclear Escalation in a Conven- tional War with the United States,” International Security 41, no. 4 (2017): 50–92; M. Taylor Fravel, Active Defense: China’s Military Strategy since 1949 (Prince ton, NJ: Princet on University Press, 2019), chap. 8. 72. O n the use of nuclear threats in the Korean War, see, for example, Richard K. Betts, Nu- clear Blackmail and Nuclear Balance (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 1987), 31–47; Rosemary J. Foot, “Nuclear Coercion and the Ending of the Korean Conflict,” International Se- curity 13, no. 3 (1988): 92–112. 73. Fravel and Medeiros, “China’s Search for Assured Retaliation,” 48. 74. Lewis and Xue, China’s Strategic Seapower; Fravel and Medeiros, “China’s Search for As- sured Retaliation”; Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, chap. 5; Fravel, Active Defense, chap. 8. 75. Narang, Nuclear Strategy in the Modern Era, 140–141. 76. S ome scholars have argued that Chinese aggression in the Ussuri River clashes in 1969 may have been partly driven by China’s nuclear acquisition. See, for example, Kapur, Danger- ous Deterrent, 144–154. Nonetheless, the evidence for this proposition remains l imited. 77. Fravel and Medeiros, “China’s Search for Assured Retaliation,” 51. 78. Quoted in Fravel and Medeiros, “China’s Search for Assured Retaliation,” 61. 79. Cunningham and Fravel, “Assuring Assured Retaliation.” 80. In the language of social science, the theory tells us the treatment effect of nuclear weap- ons on the treated units (countries that have acquired nuclear weapons). 81. Narang, “Nuclear Strategies of Emerging Nuclear Powers,” 86–87. 82. S teven R. Ward, Immortal: A Military History of Iran and Its Armed Forces (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2009), 3–4. 83. Whitney Raas and Austin Long, “Osirak Redux? Assessing Israeli Capabilities to Destroy Iran ian Nuclear Facilities,” International Security 31, no. 4 (2007): 7–33. 206 notes to pages 161–169 84. T his prediction is in line with the expectations of Stephen Ward. See Ward, Immortal, 321. Of course, it is pos sib le that Iran’s threat environment could change in the future. For ex- ample, if the Islamic State were to regain its lost strength and acquire substantially more terri- tory in Iraq and a greater ability to proj ect power, or if the current Saudi Arabia– Iran proxy con- flict escalated into a more conventional military rivalry, it is at least conceivable that Iran could face a severe territorial threat at some point in the f uture. 85. Narang, “Nuclear Strategies of Emerging Nuclear Powers,” 86. 86. Jahangir Amuzegar, “Iran’s 20- Year Economic Perspective: Promises and Pitfalls,” M iddle East Policy 16, no. 3 (2009): 41–57. 87. Joshua Rovner, “ After Amer i ca: The Flow of Persian Gulf Oil in the Absence of U.S. Mili- tary Force,” in Crude Strategy: Rethinking the U.S. Military Commitment to Defend Persian Gulf Oil, ed. Charles L. Glaser and Rosemary A. Kelanic (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2016). For a broader discussion of the balance of power in the Middle East, see Joshua Rovner and Caitlin Talmadge, “Hegemony, Force Posture, and the Provision of Public Goods: The Once and Future Role of Outside Powers in Securing Persian Gulf Oil,” Security Studies 23, no. 3 (2014): 548–581. 88. E rica D. Borghard and Mira Rapp-H ooper, “Hizbullah and the Iran ian Nuclear Pro- gramme,” Survival 55, no. 4 (2013): 86. 89. For an optimistic perspective, see Kenneth N. Waltz, “Why Iran Should Get the Bomb: Nuclear Balancing Would Mean Stability,” Foreign Affairs 91, no. 4 (2012): 2–5. For a pessimistic perspective, see Matthew Kroenig, A Time to Attack: The Looming Ira nian Nuclear Threat (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014). Conclusion 1. Jeffrey G. Lewis, The Minimum Means of Reprisal: China’s Search for Security in the Nuclear Age (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007); M. Taylor Fravel and Evan S. Medeiros, “China’s Search for Assured Retaliation: The Evolution of Chinese Nuclear Strategy and Force Structure,” International Security 35, no. 2 (2010): 48–87. 2. F or example, Nina Tannenwald, The Nuclear Taboo: The United States and the Non-u se of Nuclear Weapons since 1945 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008). 3. For an argument along these lines about differences in the relative likelihood of nuclear testing between military- and civilian-c ontrolled nuclear programs, see Jacques E. C. Hymans, “When Does a State Become a ‘Nuclear Weapon State’? An Exercise in Mea sure ment Valida- tion,” Nonproliferation Review 17, no. 1 (2010): 161–180. 4. On the merits of strategic approaches to studying international politics, see David A. Lake and Robert Powell, eds., Strategic Choice and International Relations (Princet on, NJ: Prince- ton University Press, 1999). 5. For examples, see Austin Long and Brendan Rittenh ouse Green, “Stalking the Secure Second Strike: Intelligence, Counterforce, and Nuclear Strategy,” Journal of Strategic Studies 38, nos. 1–2 (2015): 38–73; Keir A. Lieber and Daryl G. Press, “The New Era of Counterforce: Tech- nological Change and the F uture of Nuclear Deterrence,” International Security 41, no. 4 (2017): 9–49; Brendan Ritten house Green and Austin Long, “The MAD Who Wasn’t There: Soviet Re- actions to the Late Cold War Strategic Balance,” Security Studies 26, no. 4 (2017): 606–641; Mat- thew Kroenig, The Logic of American Nuclear Strategy: Why Strategic Superiority Matters (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018); Mark S. Bell, “Nuclear Opportunism: A Theory of How States Use Nuclear Weapons in International Politics,” Journal of Strategic Studies 42, no. 1 (2019): 3–28; Brendan Ritten house Green, The Revolution That Failed: Nuclear Competition, Arms Con- trol, and the Cold War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2020); Keir A. Lieber and Da- ryl G. Press, The Myth of the Nuclear Revolution: Power Politics in the Atomic Age (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2020). 6. F or similar points on the importance of incorporating heterogeneity into our under- standing of nuclear proliferation and nuclear crises, see Mark S. Bell, “Examining Explanations for Nuclear Proliferation,” International Studies Quarterly 60, no. 3 (2016): 520–529; Mark S. Bell 207 notes to pages 169–172 and Julia Macdonald, “How to Think about Nuclear Crises,” Texas National Security Review 2, no. 2 (2019): 40–64. 7. Richard K. Betts, “The New Threat of Mass Destruction,” Foreign Affairs 77, no. 1 (1998): 27; T. V. Paul, “ Great Equalizers or Agents of Chaos? Weapons of Mass Destruction and the Emerging International Order,” in International Order and the F uture of World Politics, ed. T. V. Paul and John A. Hall (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999): 373–392. This view is also implicit in the work of S. Paul Kapur, since he argues that weak states are the ones that benefit from nuclear acquisition. 8. See, for example, Nicholas L. Miller, “Nuclear Dominoes: A Self-D efeating Prophecy?,” Security Studies 23, no. 1 (2014): 33–73; Nicholas L. Miller, “The Secret Success of Nonprolifera- tion Sanctions,” International Organ ization 68, no. 4 (2014): 913–944; Nicholas L. Miller, Stopping the Bomb: The Sources and Effectiveness of U.S. Nonproliferation Policy (Ithaca, NY: Cornell Univer- sity Press, 2018); Or Rabinowitz, Bargaining on Nuclear Tests: Washington and Its Cold War Deals (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014); Matthew Kroenig, “Force or Friendship? Explaining Great Power Nonproliferation Policy,” Security Studies 23, no. 1 (2014): 1–32; Gene Gerzhoy, “Alliance Coercion and Nuclear Restraint: How the United States Thwarted West Germany’s Nuclear Ambitions,” International Security 39, no. 4 (2015): 91–129; Francis J. Gavin, “Strategies of Inhibition: U.S. G rand Strategy, the Nuclear Revolution, and Nonproliferation,” International Security 40, no. 1 (2015): 9–46; Andrew Coe and Jane Vaynman, “Superpower Collusion and the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty,” Journal of Politics 77, no. 4 (2015): 983–997. 9. For example, Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Spread of Nuclear Weapons: More May Be Bet- ter,” Adelphi Papers 21, no. 171 (1981): 1–32. 10. G lenn H. Snyder, “The Balance of Power and the Balance of Terror,” in Balance of Power, ed. Paul Seabury (San Francisco: Chandler, 1965): 184–201. 11. F or example, Matthew Kroenig, “Nuclear Superiority and the Balance of Resolve: Explain- ing Nuclear Crisis Outcomes,” International Organi zation 67, no. 1 (2013): 141–171; Todd S. Sech- ser and Matthew Fuhrmann, “Crisis Bargaining and Nuclear Blackmail,” International Organ- ization 67, no. 1 (2013): 173–195. See also Bell and Macdonald, “How to Think about Nuclear Crises.” 12. For example, John Mueller, Atomic Obsession: Nuclear Alarmism from Hiroshima to Al Qa- eda (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010); Sechser and Fuhrmann, “Crisis Bargaining and Nuclear Blackmail.” 13. For example, Kyle Beardsley and Victor Asal, “Winning with the Bomb,” Journal of Con- flict Resolution 53, no. 2 (2009): 278–301; Kroenig, “Nuclear Superiority and the Balance of Resolve.” 14. See, for example, Hymans, “When Does a State Become a ‘Nuclear Weapon State’?” Many quantitative codings for when states acquire nuclear weapons also rely heavil y on the date of a first nuclear test. See, for example, the codings used in Sonali Singh and Christopher R. Way, “The Correlates of Nuclear Proliferation: A Quantitative Test,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 48, no. 6 (2004): 859–885; Dong-J oon Jo and Erik Gartzke, “Determinants of Nuclear Weapons Pro- liferation,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 51, no. 1 (2007): 167–194. 15. For example, Mueller, Atomic Obsession, 95–99. 208 Index Note: Page numbers in italics refer to figures. 1967 war, 157, 158 Angola, 82, 153. See also Border War (Angola–N amibia) Abadan Island, 58–59 ANZUS (Australia, New Zealand, United Acheson, Dean, 40, 59, 128, 140, 141 States Security Treaty), 52, 128 Afg han i stan, 20, 161 apartheid regime. See Border War African National Congress (ANC), 83, 84, 88 (Angola– Namibia); South Africa’s nuclear aggression and nuclear weapons: by experience Britain, 50–51, 171; defined, 5, 7, 9, 13–14, APOC (Anglo- Persian Oil Comp any), 58. 177n12; Kapur on, 4–5; power trajectory See also Anglo- Iranian Oil Comp any and, 25; by South Africa, 8, 14; by United (AIOC) States, 119–22. See also nuclear opportun- ARAMCO (Arabian American Oil ism Com pany), 63–65 Ahmad, Shamshad, 149 Armscor, 80. See also South Africa’s nuclear AIOC (Anglo- Iranian Oil Comp any), 57–59, experience 63, 66, 69 Armstrong, Raymond Fullarton, 95 Al- Assad, Bashar, 162 ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Ali, Ghalib bin, 69 Nations), 153 alliances and nuclear weapons: be havi ors Aswan High Dam, 66 relating to, 6, 7, 16, 178nn21–22, 178n25, Attlee, Clement, 44, 45, 47, 59 179n44; of Britain, 39; examples of, 18; of Australia, New Zealand, United States United States, 39, 127–31; as variable in Security Treaty (ANZUS), 52, 128 theory of nuclear opportunism, 23–24. See also bolstering and nuclear weapons; Baghdad Pact, 51, 53–55, 69, 70 ind e pen dence and nuclear weapons; Bangladesh, 148 nuclear opportunism Beg, Aslam, 149 ANC. See African National Congress (ANC) beh avi ors in theory of nuclear Anderson, John, 44 opportunism, 13–20, 160–63, 168–71, Anglo- Iranian Oil Com pany (AIOC), 57–59, 177n12. See also nuclear opportunism 63, 66, 69 Belgium, 145 Anglo-P ersian Oil Comp any (APOC), 58. Ben- Gurion, David, 156–57 See also Anglo-I ranian Oil Com pany Bevin, Ernest, 45 (AIOC) Bhabha, Homi, 152 209 Index Bhutto, Benazir, 150 nuclear opportunism; South Africa’s bolstering and nuclear weapons: by Britain, nuclear experience; United States’ nuclear 8, 33, 42, 49, 51–56, 77; defined, 5, 7, 9, experience 17–18; by France, 154; by India, 151; Castro, Fidel, 94. See also Cuba’s support of power trajectory and, 25–26; South Africa Border War conflict and, 95, 104, 106–8; United States and, Central Treaty Organ ization (CENTO), 51 112, 118, 125, 126, 142–43. See also Chaban-D elmas, Jacques, 155 alliances and nuclear weapons; nuclear Chamoun, Camille, 70 opportunism China (P eople’s Republic of China; PRC): Border War (Angola– Namibia), 8, 11, 78, nuclear acquisition by, 1, 29, 151, 81–85, 89, 96–105, 192n26. See also South 159–60;— Soviet alliance, 15–16, 202n1; Africa’s nuclear experience support of Pakistan’s nuclear program, Borghard, Erica, 162 18; theory of nuclear opportunism and, Botha, P. W. “Pik,” 83, 91, 92, 93, 100, 105, 160 106 Churchill, Winston: on APOC, 57–58; on Botswana, 82, 84 bombing of Japan, 114; on British–U S Brands, H. W., 58 nuclear collaboration, 43, 44, 45, 125; on Brasstacks Crisis (1986–1987), 148 Buraimi Oasis conflict, 64; Eden and, Bretton Woods agreements and monetary 72–73, 74; on nuclear acquisition, 37; on system, 17, 139–140, 156 special relationship with US, 39, 64; Suez Breytenbach, Jan, 83, 88–90, 109 Crisis and, 61–62, 187n179. See also British Brezhnev, Leonid, 84 nuclear experience British nuclear experience, 36–77; overview CIA (Central Intelligence Agency): on of case study on, 8, 12, 33, 34, 36–37; Britain, 65; on Mossadegh, 60; on South aggression and expansionist be hav ior, Africa, 91, 93–94, 98, 105; Soviet operative 50–51, 171; bolstering of alliances by, 8, of, 129, 136. See also United States’ nuclear 33, 42, 49, 51–56, 77; Buraimi Oasis and, experience 63–66; changes in foreign policy and, CINC scores (Composite Index of National 49–50; Egypt and, 53, 60–63, 68, 72, 73, Capabilities), 40, 117, 151, 154, 159 187n179; expectations of, 40–42; global Cohen, Avner, 157 positioning and, 47–49, 74–77; ind e pen- compromise and nuclear weapons: defined, dence a fter nuclear acquisition by, 8, 12, 5, 9, 19–20; theoretical inclusion of, 30–31; 17, 24, 43–46; Iran and, 57–60; Jordan and, United States and, 119, 122–23, 141–42. 70; nuclear acquisition, 37–38; Oman and, See also nuclear opportunism 69–70; strategic environment of, 38–40; Conant, James, 121 Suez Crisis and, 50–51, 61–62, 66–69, Congo (Zaire), 82, 153 70–73; theory of nuclear opportunism Correlates of War Proj ect, 26, 195nn176–77. and, 73–74, 164–65 See also CINC scores (Composite Index of British–U S relations, 39, 61–70, 131, National Capabilities) 187n193. See also British nuclear experi- Cuba’s support of Border War conflict, 8, 78, ence; United States’ nuclear experience 94, 98, 110, 192n26. See also Border War Bulganin, Nikolai, 72 (Angola– Namibia) Bundy, McGeorge, 75 Czechos lo vak ia, 135 Buraimi Oasis, 63–66. See also Oman bureaucratic mechanisms, 12, 13–16, 18. Dayan, Moshe, 158 See also nuclear opportunism De Gaulle, Charles, 154–55 Bush, Vannevar, 114 de Klerk, F. W., 78, 110, 111 Butler, R. A., 59 Deng Zioping, 159 Buys, André, 80, 92, 93, 111 Denmark, 128, 145 Byrnes, James, 45, 120, 139 destructive efficiency of nuclear weapons, 10–11, 120, 121, 168 Caccia, Harold, 47 de Vries, Roland, 88, 90, 91, 105 Cambodia, 153 Dippenaar, Johann, 87, 88, 90, 92, 105, 107 Canada, 99, 128, 145 direct military mechanisms, 10–11 Canberra B2 bombers, 38, 55 domestic pol iti cal mechanisms, 12. See also Car ter, Ashton, 153 bureaucratic mechanisms case studies of nuclear opportunism, 31–35. Dulles, Allen, 65 See also British nuclear experience; Dulles, John Foster, 53, 62, 65–70, 155 210 Index East Germany. See Germany highly enriched uranium (HEU), 18, 80 economic diplomacy, 68, 139–41, 152 Hiroshima bombing, Japan, 10–11, 80, 112, Eden, Anthony: Britain’s nuclear posture 114, 119–22, 124 and, 37–38, 72–73; on economic cost of Hokkaido, Japan, 124 defense, 48; on Middle East strategy, 60, Hoover, Herbert, Jr., 65, 66 64; on NATO’s posture, 55; obituary of, Hussein, Saddam, 14, 161 69; on Suez Crisis, 67, 68; on US support Hussein bin Talal, King of Jordan, 70 of Britain, 61. See also British nuclear Hymans, Jacques, 13, 72, 152, 204n31 experience efficiency mechanisms, 11–12, 14–16, 18–19 Ibn Saud, 63 Egypt:— Anglo Treaty (1954), 73; attack on identity- based mechanisms, 12, 13, 15, 16, 18 Israel by, 157–58; British defense program IMF. See International Monetary Fund (IMF) and, 53, 60–63, 68, 72, 187n179. See also ind ep end ence and nuclear weapons: by Suez Crisis Britain, 8, 12, 17, 24, 43–47; defined, 5, 9, Eisenhower, Dwight D., 55, 60–62, 67, 68, 16–17; by France, 154–55; by United 70. See also United States’ nuclear States, 123–24, 141–42. See also nuclear experience opportunism emboldenment: Kapur’s theory of, 74, 111, India, 2, 12, 14, 92–93, 148–53, 180n59, 143; from nuclear acquisition, 27; as term, 204n31 13, 171–72 Indo-S oviet Treaty of Friendship and escalation mechanisms, 11, 19, 119 Cooperation (1971), 151 expansion and nuclear weapons: by intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM), 162 Britain, 50–51, 171; defined, 5, 9, 15–16; intermediate range ballistic missile (IRBM), power trajectory and, 25; by United 155 States, 124 International Monetary Fund (IMF), 140 Iran: British nuclear program on, Fair, C. Christine, 14, 150 57–60;— India relations, 152; nuclear FAPLA. See People’s Armed Forces for the acquisition by, 2, 27, 161; strategic Liberation of Angola (FAPLA) environment of, 161–62, 207n84; theory of Feldman, Shai, 20 nuclear opportunism and, 162, 172 Fetter, Steve, 4 Iraq, 14, 53, 70, 161, 162, 207n84 foreign policy, defined, 9 Islamic State, 162, 207n84 Forrestal, James, 129, 138 Israel: beh av ior a fter nuclear acquisition by, Fourie, Deon, 78, 83 20;— India relations, 152;—I raq conflict, France: in dep end ent beh avi or a fter nuclear 14; 1967 war, 157, 158; nuclear acquisition acquisition by, 17, 24; in international of, 156–57;— South Africa relations, 106–7, agreements, 52, 128; nuclear acquisition 108; in Suez Crisis, 67–68; theory of of, 24, 153–56; on South African peace nuclear opportunism and, 157–59; Yom proposal, 99; on Soviet attacks, 72; on Kippur War, 158 Suez Crisis, 67, 68 Italy, 128, 135, 136, 145 Fravel, Taylor, 159 Jaish- e- Mohammed, 150 Gaddis, John Lewis, 126 Jammu, 149 Gallois, Pierre, 154 Japan: potential nuclear proliferation of, Gandhi, Rajiv, 151 160; surrender to US by, 119, 122–23; Gavin, Francis, 128, 143 theory of nuclear opportunism and, 163; Geldenhuys, Jannie, 84 US bombings of, 10–11, 80, 112, 114, Germany: NATO membership of, 128, 154, 119–22, 124 155; as nuclear threat to France, 153; Jervis, Robert, 4, 25, 29 peace proposal by, 99; United States as Jilani, Jalil, 150 nuclear threat to, 34, 114, 118, 121–22, 145, Jones, Howard, 134 197n35; US military bases in, 128–29 Jones, Matthew, 37, 46 Glaser, Charles, 4 Jordan, 70 Goldstein, Avery, 23–24 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 151 Kapur, S. Paul: on Pakistan, 150; on Gowing, Margaret, 47 revisionist states, 4, 5, 30, 108–9; theory Greece, 128, 134, 135, 145 of, 35, 57, 74, 111, 142–43; on weak states Green, Brendan Ritten house, 127–28 and nuclear acquisition, 208n7 211 Index Kargil War (1999), 12, 14, 149–50 Narang, Vipin, 80, 92, 150, 152 Kashmir, 2, 14, 149–50 Nassau Agreement, 76 Kennan, George, 129 Nasser, Gamal Abdel, 53, 57, 61, 66, 69. Khan, A. Q., 148 See also Egypt Kim Il Sung, 16 National Union for the Total In de pend ence Kohl, Wilfred, 154 of Angola (UNITA), 81, 89, 98, 102, 106 Korea. See North Korea; South Korea NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organ- Korean War, 45, 159 ization): British involvement in, 51, 55–56; formation of, 39, 128; France and, 17, Lashkar-e -T aiba, 150 155–56 Layne, Christopher, 128, 132 Nayar, Baldev Raj, 151 Leffler, Melvyn, 117, 132, 135 Neguib, Mohamed, 61 Liberman, Peter, 111 Nehru, Jawarharlal, 152 Lloyd, Selwyn, 67, 68, 71 Nitze, Paul, 140 Nixon, Richard, 144 Macmillan, Harold: on Britain’s dependence North Atlantic Treaty Organi zation. on US, 60, 68; on Britain’s global position, See NATO (North Atlantic Treaty 41, 47, 67, 71, 75–76; on Lebanon Organ ization) intervention, 70; on US strategy in M iddle North Korea, 16, 17, 21, 147, 162–63, 202n1 East, 65; on utility of nuclear weapons, 54 NPT (Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Malan, Magnus, 83, 84, 91, 100 Nuclear Weapons), 110 Manhattan Proj ect, 8, 43, 44, 114, 120–22, nuclear latency, 32 125. See also United States’ nuclear nuclear opportunism, 5–10, 164–66; case experience studies for examination of, 31–35; Mao Zedong, 29, 159, 160 comparison to theory of the nuclear Marshall, George, 39, 129, 130, 141 revolution, 7, 167–68; foreign policy Marshall Plan, 39, 139–40 be hav iors in, 13–20, 160–63, 168–71, MAUD Committee, 43 177n12; future research on, 166–67; McCargar, James, 136 implications for policymakers, 171–73; McCloy, John, 138 implications for scholars, 167–71; McMahon Act (1946), 45 mechanisms affecting foreign policy, mechanisms of nuclear opportunism, 10–13. 10–13; potential objections to, 27–31; on See also nuclear opportunism variables of pol itic al priorities, 20–26, Medeiros, Even, 159 168–69. See also names of specific states Meir, Golda, 158 Nuclear Posture Review (2018), 145 Mendès-F rance, Pierre, 155 nuclear revolution: arguments for, 3–4, 5; Mendl, Wolf, 154 challenges to, 143–44, 167–68; on security Méry, Guy, 156 after nuclear acquisition, 10, 35, 73–74; militarized interstate dispute (MID), 32, 50, stability- instability paradox and, 170. 51, 96. See also names of specific conflicts See also nuclear opportunism Mills, George, 38, 47 Mirage IV bombers, 154 OAU (Organisation of African Unity), 97, Mishra, Brajesh, 149 99 Mollet, Guy, 68 objections to nuclear opportunism, 27–31. Monckton, Walter, 55–56 See also nuclear opportunism Morocco, 145 Office of Policy Coordination (OPC), 136 Mossadegh, Muhammad, 57, 58, 60 Oman, 69–70. See also Buraimi Oasis Mozambique, 82, 83, 84, 88, 106, 153 OPC. See Office of Policy Coordina- MPLA. See Popul ar Movement for the tion (OPC) Liberation of Angola (MPLA) Operation Boswilger, 103 Mugabe, Robert, 83 Operation Bruilof, 99–100 Munro, Ross, 152 Operation Carnation, 97, 101 Murphy, Robert, 67 Operation Daisy, 97, 102 Operation Egret, 103 Nagasaki bombing, Japan, 10–11, 112, 114, Operation Klipklop, 97, 101 119–20, 122 Operation Makro, 97, 102 Namibia. See Border War (Angola– Operation Meebos I and II, 97, 102 Namibia); South West Africa Operation Protea, 97, 101–2, 103 212 Index Operation Reindeer, 96, 97, 100, 101 SADF. See South African Defence Operation Rekstok, 96, 97, 100, 101 Force (SADF) Operation Saffraan, 100, 101 Sandys, Duncan, 49 Operation Savannah, 81, 89, 96–99, 100. Saudi Arabia, 63–66, 162, 207n84 See also Border War (Angola– Namibia) Schelling, Thomas, 10, 11, 119 Operation Sceptic, 97, 101 SEATO. See South East Asia Treaty Operation Seiljag, 96, 97 Organ ization (SEATO) Opperman, Gert, 84, 88, 90, 91, 98, 101, 105 sel ection effects, 12–13. See also nuclear opportunism. See nuclear opportunism opportunism Organisation of African Unity (OAU), 97, Shearar, Jeremy, 80, 89 99 Sheetz, Mark, 127 Sierra Leone, 153 Pakistan, 2, 12, 14, 19, 23, 148–50 Sino- American Mutual Defense Treaty, 128 Papenfus, Theresa, 106 Six-D ay War (1967), 157, 158 Paul, T. V., 151 Slessor, John, 38, 46, 47, 48 P eople’s Armed Forces for the Liberation of Smith, Ian, 82, 83 Angola (FAPLA), 102. See also Border War Smoke, Richard, 119 (Angola– Namibia) Somalia, 153 P eople’s Liberation Army of Namibia South Africa–A ngola conflict. See Border (PLAN), 101–2. See also Border War War (Angola–N amibia) (Angola–N amibia) South African Atomic Energy Corporation, People’s Republic of China. See China 81 (P eople’s Republic of China; PRC) South African Communist Party (SACP), 83 Philippines, 52, 145 South African Defence Force (SADF), 78, 84, PLAN. See People’s Liberation Army of 90, 96–97, 101–3, 109 Namibia (PLAN) South Africa’s nuclear experience, 78–111; Polakow- Suransky, Sasha, 107 overview of case study on, 11, 33, 34, Polaris missiles and Agreement, 75–76, 78–79; abandonment of, 110–11; aggres- 190n271 sion after nuclear acquisition of, 8, 14; po litic al mechanisms, 11, 13, 15, 17, 18 changes in foreign policy and, 98–108; Pollack, Jonathan, 17 expectations of, 85–86; nuclear acquisi- Popu lar Movement for the Liberation of tion, 79–81; strategic environment of, Angola (MPLA), 97–99, 195n173. See also 81–85, 95–97, 195n173; strategy on conflict Border War (Angola– Namibia) escalation and, 87–95; theory of nuclear Portugal, 82–83 opportunism and, 85, 86, 108–10, 165; power trajectory and nuclear opportunism, theory of nuclear revolution and, 85–86 24–26. See also nuclear opportunism South East Asia Treaty Organ ization PRC. See China ( People’s Republic of (SEATO), 51–53 China; PRC) South K orea: North Korea’s attack on, 16; psychological mechanisms, 12. See also theory of nuclear opportunism and, identity- based mechanisms 162–63;—U S treaty, 128, 135 South West Africa, 82. See also Border War RAF. See Royal Air Force (RAF) (Angola– Namibia); P eople’s Liberation Rapp-H ooper, Mira, 162 Army of Namibia (PLAN) Ravenal, Earl, 144 South West African People’s Organ ization Reagan, Ronald, 92, 98, 106, 190n271 (SWAPO), 81–83, 88, 96–104. See also revisionism, 4, 5, 30, 108–9, 195n173 Border War (Angola– Namibia) Rhodesia. See Zimbabwe Soviet Union: Britain on threat of, 38–39, Risquet, Jorge, 94 181n1; compromise beh avi or after Ritchie, Nick, 76 nuclear acquisition by, 20; expansion Roos e velt, Franklin D., 43, 45, 114, 121–22, be hav ior after nuclear acquisition by, 123, 125. See also United States’ nuclear 15–16, 202n1; global positioning of, 110, experience 147;—I ndia relations, 151, 152; Japan Royal Air Force (RAF), 38, 55–56. See also occupation and, 124; support of South British nuclear experience African Border War conflict by, 8, 78, 79, Russell, Bertrand, 136 87, 192n26; US nuclear policy on, 134–39 Russ ia. See Soviet Union Spaatz, Carl, 139 Rwanda, 153 Spain, 145 213 Index stability- instability paradox, 170 involvement in South African Border Stalin, Joseph, 16 War, 97–99 steadfastness and nuclear weapons: United States’ nuclear experience, 112–46; defined, 5, 7, 9, 18–19; power trajectory overview of case study on, 34, 112–14; and, 25–26; by United States, 125. See also alliance networks, 39, 127–31; bolstering of nuclear opportunism alliances by, 112, 118, 125, 126, 142–43; Steward, David, 78, 83, 84, 90, 98, 109 bombings of Japan ese cities by, 10–11, 80, Stimson, Henry, 114, 120, 121, 124, 138 114, 119–22, 124; Cold War strategy of, 2, 8, strategic pessimism theory, 35, 57 15; compromise and, 119, 122–23, 141–42; Stumpf, Waldo, 81, 83 economic diplomacy, 139–41; expansionist Suez Canal Comp any, 61 be havi or, 124; grand strategy in Cold War, Suez Crisis, 50–51, 61–62, 66–69, 70–73, 143–46; in de pend ence after nuclear 187n179. See also Egypt acquisition by, 123–24, 141–42; Manhattan SWAPO. See South West African People’s Proj ect, 8, 43, 44, 114, 120–22, 125; military Organi zation (SWAPO) bases abroad and global strategy, 131–34; Syria, 158, 161–62 nuclear acquisition, 114; post-W WII foreign policy, 125–27; Soviet policy and, 134–39; Taiwan, 128, 145, 163 steadfastness and, 125; strategic environ- technological opportunism, 176n21. See also ment of, 115–18, 169–70; theory of nuclear nuclear opportunism opportunism and, 165–66; theory of nuclear territorial threats and nuclear opportunism, revolution and emboldenment on, 115, 21–23, 179n34; of Britain, 38–39; of South 142–43; WWII nuclear posture, 118–19 Africa, 85 United States’ Strategic Bombing Survey, Thatcher, Margaret, 92, 190n271 119, 120 theory of nuclear opportunism. See nuclear uranium. See highly enriched uranium opportunism (HEU) theory of nuclear revolution. See nuclear US National Intelligence Estimate, 1 revolution USSR. See Soviet Union Tokyo bombing, Japan, 119 Trachtenberg, Marc, 130, 136, 137 Vajpayee, Atal Bihari, 149 Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Nuclear Valiant bombers, 38, 47 Weapons (NPT), 110 variables in theory of nuclear opportunism, Trident missiles, 76, 144, 190n271 20–26. See also nuclear opportunism Truman, Harry S., 45, 59, 120, 121, 123, 137 Victor bombers, 38 Truman Doctrine, 134, 135 Vorster, John, 97, 99, 105 Turkey, 128, 134, 135, 145, 152 Vulcan bombers, 38 Umkhonte we Sizwe (MK), 84 Webb, James, 120 Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. West Germany. See Germany See Soviet Union World Bank, 140 UNITA. See National Union for the Total In de pen dence of Angola (UNITA) Yaqub- Khan, Shahabzada, 149 United Kingdom. See British nuclear Yemen, 162 experience Yom Kippur War (1973), 158 United Kingdom Ministry of Defence Yost, David, 154, 156 (MOD), 46 United Nations (UN) Security Council, 65, Zakaria, Fareed, 25 78 Zambia, 82, 88–89 United States:—B ritain relations, 39, 61–70, Zazeraj, Victor, 83, 89, 94–95, 98, 101 131, 187n193;—F rance alliance, 154; Zimbabwe, 82, 83, 84, 90 214