US AIR FORCE INSTITUTE FOR NATIONAL

SECURITY STUDIES

US AIR FORCE ACADEMY

Milestones in Strategic Arms

Control, 1945–2000

United States Air Force

Roles and Outcomes

JAMES M. SMITH

GWENDOLYN HALL

Editors

Air University Press

Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama 36112-6615

in coordination with

USAF Institute for National Security Studies

USAF Academy, Colorado 80840

September 2002
Disclaimer

Opinions, conclusions, and recommendations expressed or implied within are solely those of

the contributors and do not necessarily represent the views of Air University, the United States

Air Force, the Department of Defense, or any other US government agency. Cleared for public

release: distribution unlimited.

Air University Press

131 West Shumacher Avenue

Maxwell AFB AL 36112-6615

http://aupress.maxwell.af.mil

ii

Air University Library Cataloging Data

Milestones in strategic arms control, 1945-2000 : United States Air Force roles and

outcomes /edited by James M. Smith and Gwendolyn Hall.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references.

Contents: Foundations for strategic arms control, 1945–1968 -- Strategic arms

limitations, 1969–1980 -- The Reagan years, 1981–1988 -- Strategic arms reductions,

1989–2000.

ISBN 1-58566-110-4

1.Nuclear arms control -- United States -- History. 2. Nuclear arms control --

United States. 3. United States. Air Force -- History. I. Smith, James M., 1948- II.

Hall, Gwendolyn M. III. USAF Institute for National Security Studies.

327.1747--dc21
Contents

Chapter Page

DISCLAIMER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii

FOREWORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii

INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi

PART I

Foundations for Strategic

Arms Control, 1945–68

1 The United States Air Force and

Arms Control: The Early Years . . . . . . . . . . . 3

Michael O. Wheeler

2 Peace through Strength Alone:

US Air Force Views on Arms Control 

in the 1950s and Early 1960s . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

Edward Kaplan

PART II

Strategic Arms Limitations,

1969–80

3 The Road to SALT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53

Anne G. Campbell

4 Strategic Arms Control and the US Air Force:

The SALT Era, 1969–80 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

Jeffrey A. Larsen

iii
Chapter Page

PART III

The Reagan Years, 1981–88

5 Arms Control during the

Reagan Administration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119

Charles D. Dusch Jr.

6 National Security Strategy, Arms

Control, and the US Air Force:

The Reagan Years, 1981–88 . . . . . . . . . . . . 173

Forrest E. Waller Jr.

PART IV

Strategic Arms Reductions, 1989–2000

7 Arms Control after the Cold War . . . . . . . . . 191

Thomas S. Mowle

8 Downsizing and Shifting Operational 

Emphasis for the US Air Force: The Bush 

and Clinton Years, 1989–2000 . . . . . . . . . . 227

Thomas D. Miller

PART V

Conclusion

9 The USAF and Strategic Arms Control . . . . . 251

Gwendolyn M. Hall

iv
Page

CONTRIBUTORS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263

BIBLIOGRAPHIC ESSAY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269

Jeffrey A. Larsen

Illustrations

Figure

1 US Military SALT Apparatus, 1976–78 . . . . 108

2 Treaties and Agreements Growth . . . . . . . . 231

Tables

1 Milestones in USAF Arms Control 1945–2000:

Overview Summary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xxx

2 SALT-Derived Agreements . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98

v

Foreword

Just over six decades ago, the United States was a nation

trying to adhere to a largely isolationist outlook, the potential

power of the atom was yet to be fully realized and had certainly

not been weaponized, and the defense of our nation was

entrusted to a secretary of war and a secretary of Navy. The

many changes in the years since World War II have been spectacular and fundamental. There is a fascinating interconnectivity among at least three threads that run through that period. The role of nuclear weapons, the rise of an independent Air

Force, and the shaping of national and international security

through arms-control agreements have all had their most profound development in this time frame.

The relation between the newly created Air Force in 1947 and

the growing reliance by this country on nuclear weapons for

deterrence and defense is a well-known story. The impetus that

these nuclear devices gave to negotiations on arms control is

also well-covered ground; although, of course, arms-control

encompasses more than nuclear armaments. How about a third

connection? Where has the Air Force been in the arms control

arena? Is it a story of interest? I submit that it is an important

story and the history of the United States Air Force is fundamentally incomplete without recounting how the junior service

has shaped various arms treaties and been shaped by them.

Yet, just over a year ago, while serving on the Air Staff, I was

struck by how little is known outside of a very small community regarding the powerful Air Force role in recent years in

determining the positions our American negotiators put on the

table at arms-control forums around the globe. While our

nation’s diplomatic corps provides our lead negotiators, there

is a significant interagency team at the negotiating site and

another back in Washington that feeds ideas and assesses the

proposals of all parties. Though the Air Force did not seize a

prominent role in the early days of post-war arms control, it

made up for it quickly and forcefully as it gained a fuller

appreciation of what was at stake. As chief of the Air Staff division charged with devising and coordinating Air Force positions on arms control (as well as later carrying out many of the

vii
required arms-control responsibilities), I was curious how the

role of the Air Force in this crucial element of our national

security had been recorded. The answer surprised me: it’s a

story that has not been told. Yet, every day and in major ways,

the Air Force is tightly bound to the world of arms control.

It is a little after ten o’clock in the morning, January 2002,

in North Dakota. Minot Air Force Base is the last US military

installation in the world to have permanently based at it both

nuclear-capable bombers as well as the core nuclear deterrent

in the form of intercontinental ballistic missiles. Several hours

ago, Moscow notified the American government that it is sending a team of inspectors to look at some US facilities in accordance with the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (START). At

the moment, we do not yet know which bases the Russians

want to inspect on this visit—we will know tomorrow if Minot

is on the list. If so, this base will begin a well-orchestrated ritual that takes place several times a year, just as it does at a

handful of other installations in the United States and at some

American bases overseas. Importantly, under this and other

mutual treaties, it is a ritual that also takes place frequently

in Russia as American inspectors exercise the same treaty

rights. Reflect for a minute, how did the United States Air

Force, the keeper of two legs of this nation’s strategic deterrent

force, make its inputs into this treaty as it was being written

in the 1980s and 1990s? How did the Air Force make its case

relative to the other players in the process, like the US Navy

whose submarine-based ballistic missiles (the third leg of the

nuclear triad) were also subject to negotiation? And now, with

the treaty in effect, how does the Air Force plan for and fulfill

its obligations?

Move to the Pentagon on the morning of 11 September 2001.

We are aware that the terrorist-hijacked aircraft that smashed

into the building that day decimated offices and killed dozens

of military and civilian workers. Of course, most of the

Pentagon remained untouched, but there were additional substantial parts that were heavily damaged. The Headquarters Air

Force National Security Policy Division (AF/XONP) was one

such office. XONP is the Air Staff office responsible for devising

arms-control policy and implementing arms-control treaties for

viii
the Air Force. It is a vibrant office with a long-standing reputation within the arms-control community for solid work, creative

ideas, and oversight of strict compliance with Air Force-related

arms-control responsibilities at bases around the world. The

office does not buy, field, fly, or fix major weapons systems nor

does it plan for the employment of airpower in war. Indeed, it

is also an office that is not widely known throughout the Air

Force. Yet, it has had a tremendous impact over the last several decades on the design of the Air Force, on the weapons that

could be bought or kept (and at what numbers and in what

locations), and how those weapons could or could not be used.

From the designing and negotiating positions in the strategic

arms talks in the 1980s and 1990s, to setting numerical limits

on aircraft in designing regimes limiting conventional arms in

Europe, to discussions on banning “blinding lasers,” the Air

Force focal point has been XONP in its various bureaucratic

labels over the years. On the day of the terrorist attacks, all

members of that office successfully escaped through the smoke

and debris, but valuable archives barely escaped damage.

Some files were irretrievably lost.

There is a story that still needs to be told about the Air Force

contribution to—and shaping by—arms control. This book was

in the writing stage before the September attacks, but the events

of that day provided yet another impetus to getting the story

recorded and published.

Move one last time, now to the Crawford, Texas, presidential ranch in November 2001. The US president engaged in discussions there with his Russian counterpart on the future

shape of the two country’s nuclear arsenals and delivery systems. Stepping away from traditional, drawn-out, negotiations

and into faster-paced efforts to reduce weapons, the two leaders left Crawford with commitments to explore more aggressive reduction schedules and lower final stockpiles. As this

book is being written, those explorations are in progress both

in Washington and in Moscow. The impact on the Air Force

promises, again, to be substantial. The size, shape, and basing

of the nuclear deterrent will be examined. Such weapons systems as the B-52 that have not only a nuclear role but also a

conventional role could be affected. Should the countries

ix
agree to deeper reductions, the rate and method of drawing

down can only be set when the Air Force, and other agencies,

determine the resources needed as well as any limiting factors

to the drawdown schedule. Arms reductions are not free and

do not happen overnight. The methods and costs associated

with corresponding verification-and-compliance regimes have

to be calculated. The arms-control experts on the Air Staff—

AF/XONP—in concert with their counterparts in the field commands will examine and report to senior Air Force and national leaders the military, fiscal, and personnel costs and benefits

derived from these arms-control efforts. 

The ability to make these assessments did not blossom

overnight. This book captures the story of a young Air Force’s

initial (and limited) impact on arms-control negotiations and

outcomes. It goes on to document a growing awareness by the

service that it was better to help craft the US position than to

be only a recipient of the outcome. The book highlights the

lesson it belatedly learned in the early days of arms control:

the Air Force has to plan and budget for treaty implementation

as aggressively as it works to protect its equities during treaty

negotiations. When a treaty goes into effect, the Air Force has

needed to be ready to execute its responsibilities to ensure

complete and timely treaty compliance. This it has done consistently and well over the years.

x

KURT J. KLINGENBERGER, Col, USAF

US Forces Azores and

65th Air Base Wing Vice Commander
Introduction

This book is about arms control, so it is most appropriate to

begin with a discussion of arms control as a construct within

US national security policy during the Cold War and in its

immediate aftermath. The classic description of arms control

as a strategic policy construct remains that of Thomas

Schelling and Morton Halperin in their seminal 1961 work,

Strategy and Arms Control. 

We believe that arms control is a promising . . . enlargement of the

scope of our military strategy. It rests essentially on the recognition

that our military relation with potential enemies is not one of pure conflict and opposition, but involves strong elements of mutual interest in

the avoidance of a war that neither side wants, in minimizing the costs

and risks of the arms competition, and in curtailing the scope and violence of war in the event it occurs.1

The key elements of this definition of arms control are, first,

that it firmly establishes arms control within the overall context of national security strategy. As a strategic instrument,

arms control is an integral element of national efforts to

enhance security, in this case as both a complement to and a

substitute for more confrontational strategy elements. Second,

and related, it establishes that security strategy involves both

conflict and cooperation, side-by-side and often simultaneous,

as overlapping stages of a single continuum. In such a deliberately ambivalent world, primary national security organizations can find themselves caught in the middle of these seemingly incompatible policy threads, and this was often the fate

of the United States Air Force (USAF) across the Cold War and

through to today.

So an examination of arms control and its implications for

the USAF entails establishing the policy context of national

security strategy and national military strategy—particularly

nuclear strategy—and USAF development to support that

strategy. The story of US national security policy across the

Cold War and into its immediate aftermath is very much the

story of the continuous framework of containment. And the

central dimension of containment was the US-Soviet strategic

relationship. Thus, implementation of US national security

xi
policy focused on evolving nuclear strategy and, as the Cold

War matured, on the accompanying process of arms control.

This strategic dimension of policy and practice was also the

central force shaping much of the development of the organization charged with employing most of the US nuclear capability and with creating the infrastructure of nuclear force

management, the USAF.

While a great deal of ink has been applied to documenting

the containment framework as well as its implementing

nuclear strategy and arms-control details, and much has also

been written on the operational aspects of USAF nuclear

employment, the story of USAF involvement in and impact

from the arms-control process has not been fully captured.2

This book represents a step toward documenting significant

USAF arms-control inputs and implications. As the nuclearexperienced USAF retires and as the blue-suit arms-control

insiders move on to other careers, it is important to capture

their story as legacy to the much smaller follow-on generation

that constitutes the contemporary strategic USAF. And it is

critical to explain both the intended and unintended consequences of national arms-control decisions to current and

future decision makers who themselves are novice to strategic

systems and to the nuclear dimension of US force posture.

This overview section sets the national context within which

USAF arms-control practice occurred and then overviews the

approach of the sections and authors that detail the four periods of arms control and USAF practice across the period

1945–2000.

National Security Strategy, Nuclear Strategy,

Arms Control, and USAF Development, 1945–2000

It was stated earlier that the story of United States national

security policy across the Cold War and even into its immediate

aftermath is very much the story of the continuous framework of

containment and its central dimension, the US-Soviet/Russian

strategic relationship. But it is also very much the story of varied and changed approaches to the implementation of containment. Implementation has swung back and forth between

xii
more cooperative and more confrontational emphases in the

US-Soviet/Russian strategic relationship, often with the USAF

caught squarely in the middle with one foot on each side of

that balance. Beyond and beneath the specific implementing

national security strategy of the day, two primary elements of

implementation of containment have been nuclear strategy—

an expressly confrontational element—and arms control—a

generally more cooperative element. The USAF has been the

primary institution responsible for implementing United

States nuclear strategy, with a “push” effect toward weapons,

programs, and capabilities to deepen active deterrence and

enhance strategic posture. The USAF has also been, by extension, the primary institution targeted and limited by armscontrol strictures, with a “pull” effect to ensure strategic stability and constrain subject systems. Within that context, the

following discussion presents a broad overview of the period of

the Cold War and its immediate aftermath. For each of the

specified periods, the discussion addresses the US national

security strategy or strategies selected to implement containment of the Soviet Union/Russian strategic power across that

period, the implementing nuclear strategy/strategies and the

contemporary developments in arms control of the era, and

the net effects on USAF development resulting from the combined pushes and pulls of the time.

1945–68, Military Containment

The period 1945–68, or from the close of World War II to the

height of American involvement in Vietnam, became the era of

military confrontation and implementation of containment via

military means. It was also the high point of US nuclear-centered strategy and the era of growth and dominance of the

Strategic Air Command (SAC).

National security strategy and nuclear strategy combined

for a significant push effect on the USAF via SAC, and arms

control as a nascent policy adjunct still awaited the evolution

of confidence and technology that would propel it to the forefront

of US-Soviet relations. This was the necessary and important

foundational period for the arms-control focus and activity

that was to follow.

xiii
National Security Strategy. The concept of containment at

the heart of US national security strategy actually predates

the Cold War. The Soviet Union was our “ally of necessity” in

World War II, but the United States and other western leadership recognized that the Soviet combination of history and ideology dictated a cautious approach after the war. The United

States vision for the post-war world was for an era of peaceful

cooperation and recovery with security ensured by the “four

policemen”: the United States, Great Britain, the Soviet Union,

and China. This desired stability would be accomplished by a

strategy of “containment by inclusion” or integration, bringing

the Soviet Union fully and equally into the “normal” community of nations. This would be accomplished largely through

economic assistance and diplomacy. But Soviet intransigence

at every turn led the United States to search for an alternative

implementation strategy, or one of “containment by isolation.”

From its philosophical-political-economic roots in the arguments of George Kennan to its blueprint for military implementation in National Security Council (NSC)-68, containment

was built to both limit and channel Soviet behavior toward

eventual conformation to Western norms and structures. Of

the “four policemen,” now joined by mainland Western Europe

into five “power centers,” only the USSR was seen as antagonistic and obstructionist. China remained weak and relatively

peripheral, so the early policy focus was on shoring up the

psychological strength while rebuilding Great Britain and

Europe. Early efforts sought to include the Soviets, including

direct recovery programs such as the Marshall Plan and more

symbolic efforts such as granting the USSR great power status in the United Nations (UN). But the balance of President

Harry S. Truman’s “patience and firmness” approach was tilted by events across 1948 and 1949 such as the rise to power

of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia, the blockade of

Berlin, the Soviet test of an atomic bomb, and the “fall of

China” to Mao Tse-tung.

The balance shifted toward firmness and isolation, as evidenced by the Truman Doctrine’s promise of all assistance,

including military, to states on the Soviet periphery that were

threatened by Communist insurgency, and by the formation of

xiv
the directly counter-Soviet North Atlantic Treaty Organization

(NATO). The United States policy review NSC-68 found that

the USSR represented a significant and direct military threat,

and it recommended the constitution of an unprecedented

United States peacetime military capability to implement military containment of the USSR. This recommendation and its

hefty price tag were subject to some heated debate in

Washington until the outbreak of hostilities in Korea, which

were taken as validation of the NSC-68 argument. At that

point the balance had fully shifted to the firmness and isolation end of the spectrum, and all elements of United States

strategy followed suit.

Implementation: Nuclear Strategy. The United States

enjoyed a nuclear unipolarity for the first few years after

Hiroshima. During those years, nuclear weapons were primarily

viewed as they had been in World War II, as a war-ending ultimate military weapon to be used in widespread conflict. With the

militarization of containment, the lack of the force structure

needed to confront the USSR conventionally, and the economic

imperatives and policies of the Dwight D. Eisenhower

Administration, the United States shifted toward a nuclear strategy based on overwhelming nuclear retaliation in response to

any significant military confrontation. Eisenhower’s “New Look”

policy of massive strategic retaliation was later augmented with

smaller, “tactical” nuclear weapons intended for employment on

the European battlefield, but it remained almost totally nuclear

at the effective heart of United States strategic posture—also the

heart of containment implementation.

Finding the choice between nuclear options and no effective

military options unacceptable—particularly if the strategic

nuclear options could be called into doubt in the aftermath of

sputnik—the Kennedy Administration set upon the course, to

be carried forward by President Lyndon B. Johnson, of building a wider range of military capabilities. The goal was to

ensure the president would have the flexibility to respond in a

manner of choice, and not be locked into a single option—particularly from a nuclear-only option set. United States involvement in Vietnam both reflected and delayed the creation of

xv
this full-spectrum option set, but the course was set to continue across the middle and late stages of the Cold War.

Implementation: Arms Control. In the immediate aftermath of World War II, the United States was still led by the

same individuals who had provided strategic leadership to the

endgame of that great conflict—Harry S. Truman, George C.

Marshall, and Henry H. “Hap” Arnold to name just a representative three. Their experience prompted them to seek global and cooperative answers to the highest challenges of the

day. They launched historic efforts and built enduring institutions—the Marshall Plan, the UN, and NATO for example. Thus,

they also agreed to at least seek a solution to the nuclear

dilemma through global and cooperative means. In the Baruch

Plan they proposed internationalizing nuclear capabilities

under the UN, only to see those efforts rejected by the USSR.

Their immediate successor generation of American leadership

grew up in the operational environment of the war, and they

were somewhat less global and cooperative in their approach

to strategic issues, and particularly in their approach to the

Soviet Union.

This group, from Eisenhower on, moved forward in an

atmosphere of caution, seeking certain guarantees and sure

verification for any diplomatic agreement. And while such certain verification means were being developed and some regularity in US-Soviet diplomacy built, they sought to bound the

nuclear arena, limiting the nuclear players and setting the

parameters, laying the foundations for a continuing future

nuclear arms-control process as technology and trust might

allow. While much of their effort was given impetus by a series

of crises (from the U-2 incident to the Bay of Pigs, and from

confrontations over Berlin to the Cuban Missile Crisis), they

created structures such as the International Atomic Energy

Agency and the US Arms Control and Disarmament Agency to

provide focus and an implementing structure. And they

bounded both the global and bilateral nuclear arena through

such early agreements as the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty

and the Limited Test Ban Treaty. Thus, they built a foundation and focus for a continuing arms-control process even as

they built weapons to ensure security in the absence of sucxvi
cessful diplomacy. And they built reliable national technical

means (NTM) of arms testing and deployment verification that

would not rely on on-site inspection to enable diplomacy

should other conditions allow for agreement to limit arms.

USAF Development. The United States Air Force was

established as an independent service in the wake of its largely strategic experience in the later days of World War II and

based on the legacy of its band of strategic, independent operations advocates dating from early in the interwar period.

Even with its tactical involvement in Korea, it was centered on

building strategic capability, superiority, and deterrence. This

mission centered on the growth and dominance of SAC, which

was both an Air Force organization and, as a specified command, a national war-fighting command. SAC quickly became

the preeminent USAF core, with its leaders rising to command

the USAF, and its pursuit of the Single Integrated Operational

Plan (SIOP)—the United States nuclear target list and war

plan—by eventually developing and fielding its implementing

triad strategic posture of manned bombers, intercontinental

ballistic missiles, and submarine-launched ballistic missiles.

Secondary USAF focus fell on North American air defense and

the theater air component of NATO.

Early technological limitations gave focus to countervalue,

or non-precision, and strategic nuclear capabilities augmented by theater counterforce weapons and delivery vehicles.

Lessons learned from lacking precision delivery capability in

Vietnam spurred ongoing technical development toward the

production of precision delivery weapons and platforms for the

full range of conventional, theater nuclear, and intercontinental aircraft and missile employment. Other USAF development

efforts centered on improved early strategic attack warning

and air defense, and on global command and control to support warning and defense, and centrally on global positive

control during SIOP execution. The USAF was born and developed as a centrally and overwhelmingly strategic force.

Military Containment Period Summary. The early Cold

War focus, then, saw a shift from containment of the Soviet

Union by offers of integration to containment-by-isolation centered on military implementation. The United States carried

xvii
out this strategy by first building and relying on its nuclear arsenal, only later beginning to build a full range of conventional-tonuclear response capabilities. The United States-Soviet strategic relationship was not mature enough, nor were technical

means of verification reliable enough, to allow direct armscontrol agreements that would limit or reduce systems.

The focus, instead, was on bounding and defining the field

while building verification means and diplomatic trust, as well as

rudimentary international and national organizational structures, as a foundation for future efforts. In and from the confrontational push of this environment, the USAF developed as a

strategic force, centered on SAC and led by SAC-developed

chiefs.

1969–80, Détente

The period 1969–80 saw the drawdown and end of the

American presence in Vietnam, the pursuit of détente and

heightened cooperation with the USSR, and active progress on

strategic arms limitations. It was also an era of significant

technological advance in every area of strategic arms. Thus

the USAF found itself pushing the development of these

advanced systems and almost simultaneously “pulling their

punches” through limitations on their deployment or even outright cancellation.

These crosscutting pressures represented the confluence of

several factors in security strategy, nuclear strategy, and arms

control. They also prompted the USAF to organize and involve

itself more actively in the arms-control process.

National Security Strategy. The era of détente began with

several decisions in the Richard M. Nixon Administration.

First, as formally represented in the Vietnamization program

and the Nixon Doctrine, the United States modified its relatively unqualified and military-focused assistance to governments fighting Communist-inspired insurgencies. This served

to moderate the confrontational approach to Soviet activities

and policies. Second, there was an acceptance of the attainment of a state of nuclear balance resulting in the reality of

mutually assured destruction (MAD). The Soviets had been

building their strategic forces while the United States was

xviii
fighting in Vietnam, and rough nuclear parity was the result—

the United States had lost its clear advantage, and a new and

more equal relationship had to be forged. The result was a

move to détente, or containment through a mix of confrontation and cooperation, with actions in one arena linked to

rewards or penalties in the relationship in that as well as other

arenas. A final key factor here was China. Once seen as fully

entrenched in the Soviet camp, this important power center

was now seen as an independent actor, allowing United States

policy more wide-ranging flexibility.

Presidents Gerald R. Ford and Jimmy Carter continued the

détente focus across the 1970s, with Carter adding particular

emphasis to the place of the Middle East in American policy

and seeking to reduce confrontational pressures in that vital

region. The period was not without confrontation, but after the

1973 Arab-Israeli conflict, the arenas of conflict moved primarily to the periphery of the superpower relationship (Africa,

Latin America). However, this era of détente ended in 1979

with the seizure of the American embassy and its staff in

Tehran, which demonstrated the relative inability of the

United States to influence rebellious regimes even in a vital

region, and the movement of the Soviet Red Army into

Afghanistan, its first incursion outside of the bounds of the

Warsaw Pact. These events—increased Soviet adventurism

coinciding with demonstrated American military weakness—

prompted a reversal of United States policy, and a return to

hard-line confrontation of the Soviet Union.

Implementation: Nuclear Strategy. Under détente United

States nuclear strategy did not retreat from MAD. Instead it

evolved within the MAD construct under a steady stream of

technological improvements, the development of advanced systems and concepts, and a shift enabled by these capabilities

toward counterforce targeting and a countervailing strategy.

Advanced systems such as the B-1 bomber, the MX missile,

space systems, precision delivery systems, and the neutron

bomb were under development while others such as multiple

independently targetable reentry vehicles (MIRV) were refined.

Research and development also progressed on advanced conxix
ventional capabilities to augment strategic systems in fulfilling

the development of a full-spectrum force posture.

The net result of these advances was to provide counterforce

capabilities sufficient to allow the United States to evolve its

nuclear strategy from its overwhelming emphasis on countervalue targeting for second-strike deterrence to a countervailing

strategy designed to present the Soviets with the firm conviction

that they could not win in any circumstances should nuclear

conflict erupt. The US range of capabilities to strike both military

systems and societal infrastructure would ensure Soviet failure

in any exchange. This increased flexibility and range of options

allowed American presidents a much more complete “quiver of

arrows” to enhance deterrence, even if to critics it made nuclear

war fighting somewhat more plausible.

Late in this period, crosscutting decisions by the United States

unilaterally and with its European allies represented the complexity of the issues and influences within this strategic realm.

President Carter cancelled both the neutron bomb and the B-1

bomber programs, self-limiting future technical advances in

these two areas. On the other hand, NATO’s dual-track decision

on intermediate-range missiles—to both complete development

and deploy the systems even while continuing negotiations

toward limiting them—advanced Western capabilities at least in

the short term in this theater-strategic arena.

Implementation: Arms Control. The combination of generally reduced bilateral tensions with the reality of essential

nuclear parity, plus the attainment of technological advances

such as those cited above, all combined to provide the incentive toward active negotiations to limit future growth and

advances in strategic systems. This move into active bilateral

arms control was both enabled and limited by the technical

capabilities of remote verification—national technical surveillance, primarily from space-based systems. Earlier arms-control

efforts had hung up on compliance verification concerns after

Soviet refusals to consider intrusive on-site inspections, then

the only means by which to confidently assure compliance. NTM

development and certification represented an alternative that

would allow negotiated limits on deployed launch vehicles with

assurance of verifiability. This provided the agenda and the

xx
bounds for the Strategic Arms Limitations Talks (SALT) and

the eventual series of agreements.

Thus, this period saw extensive, protracted, bureaucratic,

and highly detailed negotiations—with a central focus on verifiability—leading to SALT I and its adjunct Antiballistic

Missile (ABM) Treaty, freezing strategic systems in the short

term and significantly bounding the development of strategic

defenses which were then seen as destabilizing MAD.

Ultimately the SALT process led to more significant limitations

in SALT II, extending and deepening limits on launch vehicles

and incorporating limits on sub-systems such as MIRVed warheads and air-launched cruise missiles. The period also saw

continuation of the earlier period’s focus on limiting nuclear

testing, with completion of agreements establishing limitations

on underground nuclear testing for both weapons and “peaceful” nuclear explosives. Finally, progress was also seen in the

continuing efforts to stem proliferation of nuclear weapons

and development of biological weapons. This was indeed an

active period of both bilateral and multilateral arms control.

USAF Development. The USAF during this period found

itself squarely in the middle of significant technological

advances, political pressures toward détente and reduced

superpower tensions, and a maturing arms-control process

enabled by the verification capabilities of NTM systems. The

technological push to field advanced systems, the continuing

imperative of assuring the capability to fulfill the demands of

the SIOP as the foundation of détente, and the organizational

centrality of the power of SAC—both as a specified command

and as the breeding ground of USAF senior leadership—moved

the USAF in one direction.

At the same time, arms-control advances and agreements,

coupled with selected cancellation of systems development,

pulled the USAF in the opposite direction, and the service

slowly began to adapt to this environment. USAF reaction to

early arms-control experience—SALT I and ABM—in which the

service had no formal role or representation, was to designate

a small formal organization within the Air Staff to advise the

chief of staff, enabling a more assertive say in the development

xxi
of United States negotiating positions. This more active role

would continue until the end of the Cold War.

The experience of Vietnam also heavily influenced the USAF.

The service began a fundamental transformation from its

almost singularly strategic focus toward a strategic-operational

balance, beginning the development of “effects” delivery doctrine and systems, elevating the Tactical Air Command (TAC)

and its operational focus and leaders toward the creation of

the balanced force that would fly to impressive results in the

1990s. With the return to more direct confrontation of the

USSR at the end of this period, the stage was set to field the

force that we know as today’s USAF.

Détente Period Summary. The mid-Cold War period was

characterized by the move to reduce the United States’s presence

in Vietnam, the attainment of rough strategic parity and MAD,

and the move to reduce bilateral tensions and move from confrontation into greater cooperation via détente. It saw the maturation of a protracted and productive arms-control process, both

enabled and bounded by NTM verification capabilities, that led to

limitations on both strategic offensive and defensive systems.

Soviet aggression in 1979 capped the era of détente and this

“first generation” of arms limitations. As a result of these

events, the United States returned to a hard-line containment

by confrontation, seeking to redefine the relationship, and

arms control was returned to square one—addressing confidence building and agenda setting in preparation for an eventual second generation of arms reductions. The USAF found

itself pushed to field advanced systems and pulled to limit,

even cancel, their production and fielding. This push-pull

effect caused the service to begin to organize for and play a

more active role in arms control.

1981–88, The Reagan Endgame

Ronald W. Reagan came to his presidency committed to

redefining the US-Soviet relationship in terms more favorable

to the United States. He sought a new beginning in the superpower relationship, one based on the reaffirmation of

American strength and resolve, and then—and only then—the

establishment of a new generation of equitable, verifiable

xxii
strategic arms reductions that would be certain to enhance,

not degrade, United States national security. The USAF, recipients during this period of significant advances in strategic

and conventional arms, asserted itself as an important armscontrol player, protecting the national assets and interests

that were granted to its control, in active partnership within

the bureaucratic process.

National Security Strategy. The Reagan Administration

sought to move away from what it saw as the stagnation of “containment” policy as it had been practiced. Their “beyond containment” construct was founded on what the administration

called “credible deterrence” and “peaceful competition.”

Implementation here was via a defense buildup beginning with

a wide-ranging strategic modernization program to reaffirm to

the Soviets that any nuclear conflict could only lead to destruction. Once strategic stalemate could be reasserted through primarily confrontational means, then the policy could pursue a

range of more cooperative efforts to advance the overall relationship. This cooperative thread did not necessarily seek to

move far toward the “friendship” end of the spectrum, but

instead recognized that a state of competition short of confrontation could endure into the long term. The criteria for both

credible deterrence and peaceful competition revolved around

clear enhancement of United States national security—all policy elements were measured against that single end.

The Reagan era started, then, in confrontation. This status

endured across the late stages of the Leonid I. Breshnev leadership in Moscow and also across the short tenures of his immediate two successors, both of whom died shortly after assuming

office. Finally, with the generational and philosophical change in

Soviet direction that arrived with Mikhail S. Gorbachev, the first

stages of less confrontational competition could begin. The

United States had regained the confidence of strength, and the

USSR had faced the reality of their overextension. This allowed

the beginnings of a revised strategic relationship, the establishment of a new round of arms controls—this time toward true

reductions, even elimination, of weapons and systems—and

eventually the complete redefinition of global politics.

xxiii
Implementation: Nuclear Strategy. As stated, the departure

point for the Reagan efforts was in a program of strategic modernization to reassert the nuclear capabilities underpinning

America’s deterrence posture. The visible systems enhancements

here were the rebirth of the B-1 bomber program, the development of the B-2 stealth bomber, the fielding of the MX missile,

and the development of the D-5 enhanced submarine-launched

ballistic missile, and the land-based theater missiles that were to

make up the NATO theater intermediate-range nuclear force

(INF). The development and fielding of these technologically

advanced, precision-capable systems provided the United States

with a true countervailing capability (some would say even a

war-fighting capability) to firmly convince the Soviets of the futility of seeking nuclear advantage through conflict.

On top of this strategic modernization effort and its followon conventional modernization corollary, the administration

also added the concept of strategic defenses back into the mix.

The Reagan Strategic Defense Initiative ([SDI], or popularly

“Star Wars”) added this second dimension to the strategic calculus, it complicated and extended the arms-control negotiations process as the Soviets sought to get SDI on the negotiation table, and it provided additional leverage to the United

States in every phase of the bilateral relationship.

Implementation: Arms Control. The United States-Soviet

arms-control process had matured through its first generation

of agreements (SALT) into an established, protracted, and

bureaucratic process, but it had also reached the verifiable

limits that could be provided solely by NTM. The necessary

pause to consider next steps in verification coincided with the

American return to confrontation and the Reagan strategic

modernization. In short, arms control returned to step one.

This establishment of its second generation constituted the

focus of strategic arms control across this period. The only

final agreement was the INF Treaty that, after the beginning of

American missile deployments into NATO countries, withdrew

and effectively eliminated the entire class of weapons. Other

than that final agreement, the focus was on the process of

arms control. This process building was less visible than the

series of hard products from the previous period, or of the

xxiv
even larger series of products that would follow. However, it

was an important period and it left an important legacy. 

Hard agreements awaited the establishment of a new level of

confidence and self-security on each side. Thus, the period

saw wide-ranging negotiations, starts and stops, talks withdrawals then summits and resumptions, and the completion

of a whole series of peripheral agreements that increased contact and confidence (titles like Early Notification of Nuclear

Accidents, Nuclear Risk Reduction Centers, Ballistic Missile

Launch Notification, Dangerous Military Activities Prevention,

and Notification of Strategic Exercises). From all of this eventually came the agreement in principle to accept on-site

inspections as a necessary precondition to any START agreement, and a focus on verifiable reductions of systems and

capabilities as the center of the START process. This amounts

to serious and consequential arms-control activity, all with

ultimate impact on the USAF.

USAF Development. This period was the highpoint of Cold

War USAF development—the ultimate push—and also of capability to influence the arms-control process, and the pulling

back of that capability. The USAF and its SAC constituency

had always sought capabilities to enhance its central SIOP

and deterrence missions.

Added to this focus, after Vietnam the USAF had sought

development of technologically advanced conventional systems to ensure a full range of effects, with versatile and precision weapons and platforms rivaling at least the lower-yield

end of the nuclear arsenal. The USAF that would fight over

Iraq and Kuwait, Bosnia, Kosovo, and Yugoslavia, was brought

to operational status during this period. And the USAF that

had failed to influence SALT I and ABM, that had organized to

have a say in SALT II, had a team in place to act as an important full partner within the bureaucratic process that crafted

US arms-control positions for START.

Endgame Period Summary. The Reagan presidency was an

important period for the USAF. It was the period during which

new systems came on board to truly give the service a full

spectrum of capability. It was also an important period for

arms control, not in terms of completed agreements, but in

xxv
terms of implementing a process through which a renewed

United States and a subdued Soviet Union—also under new

leadership—could go forth into the next period toward real

arms reductions. Finally, it shaped the transition to what

would become the end of the Cold War and usher in a completely new context of national security.

1989–2000, Late and Post-Cold War Transition

The first George H. W. Bush Administration saw the fall of

the Berlin Wall, the end of the Cold War, the immediate disorder represented by the Gulf War, and the ultimate deconstruction of the Soviet Union. This series of unprecedented

events, and those across the Clinton Administration that followed, set the stage for both the culmination of the United

States-Soviet strategic endgame and the introduction of

entirely new dimensions and directions for security strategy,

nuclear strategy, and arms control. And all of these changes

were reflected in impacts on the structure, capabilities, and

influence of the USAF. This period, then, demonstrates the

fruition of earlier processes and efforts, and it points toward

the next step to be prepared for and faced by the service now

finding itself at the pointed end of both the American strategic

and conventional spears.

National Security Strategy. The precipitous decline and fall

of the Soviet bloc, and particularly the widespread reappearance

of ethnic unrest and regional conflict that followed, led the

United States to shift rapidly from a security strategy focused on

East-West relations to one centered on the world’s regions. Bush

initiated this shift, and the William J. Clinton Administration formalized it into a strategy of global engagement.

This new focus obviously entailed a reversal in emphasis

from strategic systems’ primacy toward primary requirements

for conventional capabilities. However, the Soviet strategic

arsenal remained in the field, and after consolidation became

the Russian arsenal. This presented the United States with the

requirement to fully address a superpower-capable nuclear

dimension even as it shifted operational focus to a point much

lower on the spectrum. Nuclear strategy had to continue a

strong role, at least until or unless arms control could find

xxvi
alternative avenues to ensure strategic security, and the USAF

continued to face requirements, pushes and pulls, in both the

nuclear and conventional arenas.

Implementation: Nuclear Strategy. Nuclear strategy did not

end, nor did nuclear deterrence responsibilities, with the end of

the Cold War. Nuclear deterrence, along with its added strategic

defense dimension, remained a center point of United StatesRussia relations, and strategic systems also began to take on

important roles in deterring or guaranteeing response to a range

of nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons threats emanating

from regional powers. Arms-control agreements and unilateral

initiatives effectively changed the nature of our posture—with

cuts, consolidation, and changes to alert status—but the strategic requirements of national security continued as a central

dimension of the USAF role and mission.

Implementation: Arms Control. The START process finally delivered during this period with the formalization of the

START I and START II agreements. The period also saw negotiations toward a possible START III agreement and discussions about how to end the restrictions posed to national missile defense by the ABM Treaty—discussions with significant

possible limiting effects on USAF programs and systems. The

bilateral process had become so mature that it hardly saw a

blink with not only the end of the Cold War, but also the end

of the Soviet Union. President Bush made the symbolic and

substantive first step of offering a Presidential Nuclear

Initiative (PNI), or unilateral cut or restriction in strategic

arms, and in turn both Gorbachev and then Yeltsin reciprocated. United States-Soviet Union Cold War arms control

became post-Cold War and then United States-Russia arms

control with barely a hiccup. 

The scope of arms control did, however, change after the

Cold War. First, the United States aided Russia in consolidating its ownership and control of the strategic nuclear weapons

and systems that had been deployed across four Soviet

republics. Then the two sides jointly implemented programs to

withdraw and stockpile or destroy weapons. For the United

States, this meant both instituting stockpile safeguards for its

own warheads and helping the Russians control and safexxvii
guard their warheads. Much of both of these programs fell to

members of the USAF, as did other aspects of implementing

START.

At the same time, the field of strategic arms-control focus

widened, with heightened international efforts to control biological and chemical weapons proliferation, and with new

dimensions added to nuclear control and counterproliferation

efforts with the demonstrations of India’s and Pakistan’s

nuclear capabilities. Further, the nonstrategic arms-control

arena gained prominence through the completion of a

Conventional Forces Europe Treaty and its adjunct agreements such as Open Skies. Here again, the USAF found itself

as a player in implementing these agreements, and it continued to find the need to have a voice in their negotiation. But

with the end of the symbolic centrality of the Cold War, the

United States disbanded the Arms Control and Disarmament

Agency (ACDA), shifting its responsibilities (and downgrading

them in the process) to a number of bureaus within the State

Department. And the USAF, facing budget cuts and changed

priorities, began to draw down its structure and capability to

influence the widening process of arms control.

USAF Development. By this period, the USAF was no

longer a centrally or even primarily “strategic” service in the

sense that strategic equals nuclear—it retains its focus on airpower as a “strategic” asset in the sense of strategic meaning

theater or even global in scope and focused on winning wars

rather than battles. The modern USAF focuses on delivering

decisive military effects, including strategic effects from conventional platforms and operational effects from strategic platforms. This transformation has been accompanied by the

replacement of the SAC-groomed leadership of the service by

generals who rose to power through the tactical and operational—albeit usually also NATO and nonstrategic nuclear

weapons—path. And perhaps the ultimate change was the

replacement of the USAF specified command SAC by the

Unified Strategic Command (STRATCOM). USAF strategic systems were reassigned, with bombers joining fighters in the Air

Combat Command and missiles joining space launch vehicles

and satellites in the Air Force Space Command. Thus, the

xxviii
path into the USAF arms-control structure was altered, even

ended, and that structure began to draw down in numbers

and capabilities, shifting much of its focus to implementation

of, in some cases severely limiting, arms controls rather than

to influencing the arms-control process.

The period ends with the USAF established as, arguably,

history’s most capable fighting force. Yet the service’s strategic

structure is divided and reduced. As a result, it is less capable of exerting influence on the process that holds both its

future and its ability to fulfill what must remain its most

essential mission element—nuclear deterrence and defense—

in balance.

Table 1 graphically summarizes this entire Cold War context

and these themes as a transition to this book’s detailed coverage of strategic arms control and USAF roles and outcomes

across the Cold War and into its transitional endgame. Arms

control continues today, and will continue tomorrow, to greatly influence USAF structure, posture, and capability.

Therefore, the parallel developments of arms control and the

USAF remain salient to the current and future generations of

USAF leadership. They deserve your study.

Overview

Within that broad context of security and nuclear strategy,

arms control and USAF development, this book provides the

details of the development of strategic arms control and of the

USAF roles in and implications from that arms control. The

central body of the book examines, in turn, four chronological

periods of United States nuclear strategy and strategic armscontrol practice, each with specific emphasis on the USAF

roles, positions, outcomes, and implications from arms control

across that period. The authors were selected to combine academic inquiry and experience-based reflection on each period.

For each period, one author is an active duty USAF officer

assigned (at this writing) to the faculty of the United States Air

Force Academy. Their approach is one of academic analysis of

the record, with that analysis tailored to making arms control

operational and toward interagency and Pentagon bureaucratic processes and positions within the process. Their pair

xxix
xxx

Table 1

Milestones in USAF Arms Control 1945–2000

Overview Summary

Period Security Nuclear Arms Control USAF

Strategy Strategy Outcomes

1945–1968 –Containment –War-ending –No foundation, –Net effect a

by integration strategy; process, confrontation

Conceptual- (United Nations, H-bomb and confidence push—SAC1

ization Marshall Plan) basic -Unilateral formation and

vs. containment technologies operational world, development

by isolation advanced unilateral

(Truman “bounding”

Doctrine, NATO) proposals 

(Baruch Plan)

–Korea to –Military –New –Crises (U-2, Bay –Early

Vietnam containment look/massive of Pigs, Berlin warning/air

based in NSC-68 retaliation Wall, Cuban missile defense system

analysis and reliance on Crisis) spurred development

spurred by US strategic deepening of the –TRIAD

perception of nuclear forces negotiation development

Korea and in countervalue process –Missiles,

Soviet actions role –Products still MIRVs2

–Flexible toward limiting –JSTPS and

response and bounding field SIOP3

increased the (LTBT,4 NPT) –Precision

full range of –Little confidence, toward

military options only rudimentary counterforce

for direct and process, only capability

indirect limited

responses to transparency and

Soviet verification

challenges; capability

added some

counterforce

focus

1968–1980 –Détente focus –Technological –Residual –Strong push,

toward balance advances in continuing focus particularly

of confrontation both strategic on with technical

and cooperation; and limiting/bounding advances (B-1),

broadening role conventional field (TTBT,5 MX,6 precision,

of economic systems PNET,7 and space)

instrument; –Counterforce nonproliferation/B –Beginnings of

broadening of additions to WC)8 strong pull from

containment strategy toward –Focus within détente

field a full existing field cooperation,

countervailing enabled by NTM9 arms control

strategy in face capabilities and agreements,

of nuclear parity confidence (ABM,10 SALT
xxxi

Table 1—Continued

Milestones in USAF Arms Control 1945–2000

Overview Summary

Period Security Nuclear Arms Control USAF

Strategy Strategy Outcomes

–Bilateral focus I/II)11 and

on graduated unilateral

limitations of decisions

future capabilities (neutron bomb,

(SALT I and II, MX Basing, B-1

ABM) initial

cancellation)

1980–1988 –“Beyond –Strategic –Drawn-out –Expanded

containment” modernization negotiation strategic and

focus on to strong process combining conventional

confrontation in countervailing direct competition systems,

the absence of base and moderation, innovations

détente (B-1, B-2, D-5, aimed at reducing (stealth, precireciprocation; INF)12 systems and/or sion), foundation

cooperation –Strategic eliminating for new

where warranted offense and existing systems dimensions

by prospects for defense both as well as limiting (space, 

success and emphasized growth and information)

enhanced US (SDI)13 advances

national security –Example: both

INF systems

deployment and

INF

treaty/systems

removal and

destruction

1988–2000 –Immediate shift –Post-Cold War –Fruition of –Gulf

from Soviet transition: Reagan-era War/Bosnia/

Union/Russia drawdown in bilateral Kosovo

focus to regional numbers, negotiations in showcase

conflicts and consolidation in START I and II14 strategic effects

issues basing, and de- –Heightened focus from

–“Engagement” alerting in on multilateral conventional

as foundation for posture track and platforms and

activist non- –Stockpile products (CTBT,15 operational

strategic stewardship to CWC)16 effects from

presence preserve –European strategic

–Clear shift away capability regional spillover platforms—all

from strategic across from bilateral from postpreeminence in unknowns of efforts (CFE,17 Vietnam push

policy and transition Open Skies) advances

strategy –Widening –Unilateral, –Arms control

strategic/ reciprocal agreements pull

deterrent focus initiatives and toward limits on

to numerous cooperative both total

actors and measures in systems and
authors are four retired USAF officers each of whom was a

participant in arms control while on active duty—often central

players in the periods they are discussing—each of whom continues to advise USAF arms-control efforts as a civilian contractor.

The 1945–68 foundation period is addressed in chronological

form, with Michael O. Wheeler discussing the cooperation oriented, containment by integration period of the 1940s and

Edward Kaplan addressing the more confrontational period of

containment by isolation and military implementation of the

1950s and 1960s. Together they chronicle the earliest foundations of strategic arms control as represented by the Baruch Plan

and the bilateral Limited Test Ban Treaty. They also highlight

early USAF support to the president followed by a growing disxxxii

Period Security Nuclear Arms Control USAF

Strategy Strategy Outcomes

1988–2000 strategic bilateral track) PNI system 

weapons types I/II, CTR18) capabilities

(MIRV)

Table 1—Continued

Milestones in USAF Arms Control 1945–2000

Overview Summary

1Strategic Air Command

2Multiple independently targetable re-entry vehicle

3Single Integrated Operations Plan

4Limited Test Ban Treaty

5Threshold Test Ban Treaty

6Missile Experimental (Peacekeeper)

7Peaceful Nuclear Explosions Treaty (of 1976)

8Biological Weapons Convention

9National technical means

10Antiballistic missile

11Strategic Arms Limitations Talks (SALT)

12Intermediate-range nuclear force

13Strategic Defense Initiative

14Strategic Arms Reducation Treaty

15Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty

16Chemical Weapons Convention

17Conventional Forces in Europe

18Cooperative Threat Reduction
trust of the USSR, all revolving around the centrality of SAC and

support of the SIOP in even this early USAF experience.

The remaining periods involve more active arms-control

efforts built on the early foundation and involving more direct

USAF implications and, eventually, involvement. Each is

addressed in tandem by both an active duty and retired officer

team. In each case, the active duty officer provides a detailed

context of the period’s strategic arms-control efforts, with

emphasis on the United States and Soviet objectives and positions, and providing an overview of the internal bureaucratic

process and positions within the United States approach to

the negotiations. The retired arms-control insider then presents an essay detailing USAF roles, structures, involvement,

and outcomes for the period.

For 1969–80, the period of détente and SALT, the emphasis

is on the confluence of events that enabled such an active era

of arms control, on the details of the SALT I, ABM, and Salt II

Treaty processes and provisions, and on the USAF recognition

that as an organization they must become an active player

within this arms-control process. Initial USAF organizational

efforts and the first generation of lessons learned are emphasized. The USAF started late on arms control, but they worked

to catch up.

For the Reagan years 1981–88, the focus is first on administration efforts to reestablish the bilateral basis for arms control from a new position of American strength. Eventually,

after a series of successions in Soviet leadership, after the US

strategic modernization and defense buildup had created the

firm impression in the Soviets that nuclear war could not be

won, and after a whole series of complementary confidenceand security-building measures enabled the acceptance of onsite inspections for verification, the foundation for a second

generation of arms controls was established. Those events

plus the story of the now matured and influential USAF armscontrol structure and its role are the focus here.

The coverage of the transitional years at the end of and

immediately following the Cold War, 1989–2000, highlights the

fruition of the protracted negotiations process begun under

Reagan. This decade saw the START process reach the agreexxxiii
ments stage, and the entire Cold War arms-control process

reach many of its ultimate objectives. The period also saw the

post-Cold War reductions in total United States military

forces, well beyond the reduced strategic systems mandated

by START, and with those reductions came a drawdown in the

manning and capability of the USAF structure built to influence arms controls. 

What does this history tell us? The final chapter traces

threads of continuity and draws conclusions from the historical record, summarizing and highlighting the implications

from arms control on contemporary and continuing USAF posture and operations. Its three threads and eight lessons

learned capture the enduring legacy of this effort to the USAF.

Finally, the book concludes with a bibliographic essay

designed to provide additional references to guide further

inquiry by the reader.

This book, then, chronicles a journey—a progression of

strategic arms development, strategy refinement, and armscontrol progression across the truly unique and critical period

of the Cold War—that parallels and reflects the development of

the USAF. This was an important journey, one that has a story

to tell for both the past and the future. Arms control has

changed in focus and priority, but significant efforts—with

significant potential implications for the USAF—continue in

the more cooperative areas of national security. Strategic

offense and defense controls are considered, accepted or

rejected, even agreed to and announced with little or no negotiation. Issues such as military space and military informational operations and defenses are raised as possible new arenas for international control. And tangential agreements such

as those on antipersonnel land mines (to which the United

States is not a party) seek to include certain USAF conventional munitions. Arms control in its broad sense is far from

dead; its lessons and legacy from Cold War practice continue

to inform the USAF today.

xxxiv

JAMES M. SMITH

Director

Institute for National Security Studies
Notes

1. Thomas C. Schelling and Morton H. Halperin, Strategy and Arms

Control (New York: The Twentieth Century Fund, 1961), 1.

2. See the bibliographic essay included at the conclusion of this book for

an excellent listing and discussion of the relevant literature.

xxxv
PART I

Foundations for Strategic Arms

Control, 1945–68

Chapter 1

The United States Air Force

and Arms Control: The Early Years

Michael O. Wheeler

This chapter addresses arms control and the US Air Force

prior to 1953. I use air force as a generic term to describe that

branch of the US Army that in 1947 became an independent

service. For the most part, the historical evolution of the Air

Force—first an aeronautical division of the War Department’s

Signal Corps in 1907, then the aviation section in 1914, then

(briefly) a division of military aeronautics in 1918, then the

Army Air Service in 1918, then the Army Air Corps in 1926,

and Army Air Forces in 1941—is of significant interest to students of modern airpower who want to understand military

organization and bureaucratic politics. It is less relevant to the

arms-control story.

As for arms control, I begin the discussion with the Hague

Conference of 1899. By that time, the use of nondirigible balloons for military purposes was over a century old and the

world was on the verge of a new age in military aviation. Count

Ferdinand A. Zeppelin conducted his first flight of a powered

dirigible in 1900, followed three years later by the first flight of

a manned, heavier-than-air aircraft at Kitty Hawk, North

Carolina, by the Wright brothers. The 1899 Hague Conference

represented the first attempt to bring airpower under arms

control, and thus is an appropriate place to begin this story.

Arms Control and Airpower

before World War II

In August 1898, the Russian foreign minister on orders of

Tsar Nicholas II issued a circular note proposing an international conference to address a host of issues on the state of

international relations, pending arms races, potential reductions

3
in armaments, and the laws of war. One of the topics specifically mentioned in the note was a possible prohibition on “the

discharge of any kind of projectiles or explosives from balloons

or by similar means.”1 The United States agreed to attend the

meeting. An American delegation appointed by President

William McKinley included five members: three civilians and

two uniformed military officers. Capt Alfred T. Mahan represented the US Navy (one of the major issues to be addressed at

the Hague was whether and, if so, how to extend the laws of land

warfare to maritime operations). Army Capt Brian Crozier, an

ordnance specialist, represented the US Army.

The American delegation went under instructions that stipulated inter alia that nothing agreed at the Hague should

unduly restrain “the inventive genius of our people in the

direction of devising means of defense.”2 Captain Crozier brokered the deal at the first Hague Conference that allowed

agreement on the question of rules governing bombardment

from the air. When the discussions in committee deadlocked

on whether to seek a permanent ban on aerial bombardment,

Crozier proposed a five-year prohibition, arguing that the balloon bombing of the day, which was indiscriminate and ineffective, should be prohibited, but that future technologies might

make bombing more discriminate and thus more militarily effective.3 The five-year restriction was adopted by the full conference in plenary session and confirmed in Washington. A separate committee at the Hague adopted rules governing warfare

which, while primarily aimed at other forms of combat, had relevance to air war, that is, prohibiting bombardment of undefended towns, requiring advance warning of bombardment,

and the like.

By the time the second Hague Conference convened in 1907,

a race in aerial armaments was well underway. The United

States and Britain favored an extension of the five-year prohibition but were unable to carry the day. The arms race intensified as Germany stepped up Zeppelin production and France

produced heavier-than-air combat aircraft. In 1911, an airplane was used for the first time in combat (by Italy in Libya

during the war with Turkey) to drop bombs from the air. When

World War I broke out, there was a spurt of development in

4

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
military aviation. Although strategic bombardment remained

peripheral to the central conduct of the war, it did take place and

in the immediate aftermath of World War I, this new form of

warfare appeared to a number of strategists to offer a means for

avoiding the carnage of stalemated trench combat, to bring any

future such confrontation to conclusion. Martin Middlebrook,

the respected British historian of air warfare, captures the mood

of the times nicely.

Let us draw up a list of the main points that emerged from that first

use of the bomber aircraft; they were all to be seen again in the Second

World War: the vulnerability of civilians when airmen attempted to

bomb industrial targets in poor bomb-aiming conditions; the effect on

civilian morale and the apparent conclusion that this would quickly

break under sufficiently heavy attack; the belief that concentration on

one particular type of industry would cause a more widespread industrial collapse; the myth of the self-defending daylight-bomber formation and the inevitable turning to less efficient bombing by night; the

controversy over when a city was a legitimate target; the increasing

diversions of manpower from the fighting fronts by both attackers and

defenders; and the dreams of whole fleets of bombers that must prove

decisive. For those who looked ahead to the use of the bomber in the

next war, all the signs were there in the one just ended.4

World War I was tremendously destructive and was followed

by a host of postwar efforts to control war and preparations for

war. One of the major issues raised in this regard was the

question of how to protect civilians. During World War I,

President Woodrow Wilson was explicit: “I desire no sort of

participation by the Air Service of the United States in a plan

. . . which has as its object promiscuous bombing upon industry, commerce, or populations in enemy countries disassociated from obvious military needs to be served by such action.”5

This policy was reinforced by Wilson’s Secretary of War

Newton Baker and was reflected in Army instructions. World

War I ended before early plans to build an American force

capable of strategic air attack on German manufacturing proceeded to the point of political scrutiny.

After World War I, the international community undertook a

number of new initiatives—for example, enforced disarmament of Germany, a new League of Nations, and various international covenants—designed to prevent a recurrence of modern

5

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
world war. Related to these efforts was a renewed interest in

inhibiting, limiting, and controlling the use of airpower in war.

Early Air Force leaders were sensitive to those activities. For

instance, William “Billy” Mitchell, commenting on talks under

way at the Hague, called attention to the fact that the international community might adopt rules limiting attacks on

manufacturing areas in the rear—rules that Mitchell opposed.6

Ronald Schaffer in his impressive study, Wings of Judgment:

American Bombing in World War II, argues that the Air Force

doctrine developing in the 1920s and 1930s at the Air Corps

Tactical School was attentive to, although not dominated by,

the issue of civilian casualties. American Air Force leaders

were careful not to be seen as pushing the permissible boundaries for aerial bombardment set by their civilian leaders and

public opinion. A strategic bombardment doctrine of attacking

the enemy’s war-supporting economy instead of focusing

directly on civilian morale was preferred both on strategic and

political grounds.7

At the Washington Conference of 1922, largely remembered

as an effort at naval arms control, there was a subcommittee

on airpower that grappled with the question of limits on aerial

bombardment. Then, and in subsequent international conferences culminating in the World Disarmament Conference of

1932–1933, a number of important issues began to achieve

something akin to consensus in the world community. There

was recognition, for instance, that military aviation could not

be limited unless civilian aviation (that could quickly convert

to military uses) also was controlled. At the World Disarmament

Conference in Geneva, the British—sensitive to their new vulnerabilities—tried unsuccessfully to prohibit strategic aerial

bombardment (distinguishing “tactical” from “strategic” emerged

as a contentious issue). The French proposed that all “strategic” aircraft, civilian and military, should be placed under control of the League of Nations, with nations allowed to retain

only short-range “tactical” aircraft in their national air forces.

One subcommittee of the World Disarmament Conference

addressed elaborate proposals for limiting construction programs, payloads, and operational ranges of aircraft.8 Most of

these discussions became moot after October 1933 when Hitler

6

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
withdrew Germany from the League of Nations and from the

disarmament talks in Geneva. The US Air Force was, at best,

far removed from these debates.

To summarize, the situation before World War II was one in

which a new technology—military aviation—matured rapidly.

It posed the dilemma that while strategic bombardment might

shorten wars and thus help avoid the seemingly endless

slaughter of World War I, it also could increase civilian suffering in the short run. The arms-control agenda for military aviation prior to World War II thus foreshadowed the debate on

the atomic bomb.

The Road to the Baruch Plan

Whatever political limits US Air Force leaders might have

anticipated on strategic air war prior to World War II, what

they in fact encountered once war erupted was a political leadership supporting—and often demanding escalation of—

strategic air warfare.9 And notwithstanding earlier international efforts to bring strategic bombing under the laws of war,

it was generally accepted that this had taken place only in the

most general fashion. At the Nuremberg trials in 1946, when

the senior German air leaders—Hermann Goering and Albert

Kesselring—were brought to trial, the indictment included no

charge of unlawful aerial bombardment (they were tried for

their role in helping prepare for and executing a war of aggression, and for other war crimes such as illegally executing prisoners of war).10

The direction that arms control would take in the immediate postwar years concerned the newly developed atomic

bomb, and there, two aspects of the World War II experience

are germane to the present discussion of the Air Force role.

First, the head of the Army Air Forces, while remaining subordinate to the chief of staff of the Army, was elevated to

roughly equal status for purposes of advising the president on

matters of policy and strategy in the newly created Joint

Chiefs of Staff (JCS). By the time the Air Force gained independence in 1947, it thus already was established that the Air

Force chief would have a co-equal voice with the other service

chiefs on matters of arms control. Second, the newly developed

7

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
atomic bomb was so large that the only realistic means of

delivery was by the very heaviest bombers available to the

American armed forces (at the time, the newly developed B-29),

which gave the Air Force a special interest in matters regarding nuclear weapons.

During the war, the crash program to develop the atomic

bomb (which went under the cover name of the Manhattan

Project) was highly secretive and heavily compartmented. Only

a handful of Air Force leaders were read into many of its compartments. Gen Hap Arnold himself, the head of the Air Force,

was not fully apprised of the project until the summer of 1943

when he received a request from the Army officer in charge of

the Manhattan Project, Maj Gen Leslie Groves, for assistance in

testing the ballistics of the bomb.11 There were very cursory,

informal discussions during the war on what type of arms control might be appropriate for the postwar period. Air Force leaders do not appear to have been party to these discussions.12

The first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on 6 August

1945—an event that removed some of the veil of secrecy from

the project.13 A second bomb of a different design was dropped

on Nagasaki three days later. The Japanese finally communicated intent to surrender and hostilities effectively ceased on

14 August (the formal surrender would take place a little over

two weeks later in Tokyo bay). On 18 August, Gen George

Marshall, chief of staff of the Army, proposed—and the JCS

agreed—to have their senior subcommittee, the Joint Strategic

Survey Committee (composed of three-star members) begin to

analyze the impact of the atomic bomb on postwar military

matters. Pending at the time was a massive reorganization of

the US armed forces. It also was unclear how quickly and to

what extent the armed force would demobilize, and what funds

would be available for defense activities after the war.

There already were elaborate planning exercises going on in

the service staffs (including the Air Staff) on these postwar

matters, but the extreme secrecy surrounding the Manhattan

Project had ensured that virtually all such planning proceeded

with no knowledge of the prospect of nuclear weapons.14 To

make up for lost time, on 14 September 1945, the Air Force

convened a board for the purpose of “determining at the earliest

8

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
practicable date the effect of the atomic bomb on the size,

organization, composition and employment of the post-war Air

Forces.”15 The extreme secrecy that still surrounded the bomb

limited the pool of individuals that could conduct the study to

a very few, very senior officers. The board was chaired by Gen

Carl A. “Tooey” Spaatz, who had just returned to Washington

from commanding the strategic air forces in the Pacific, one

specialized unit of which had secretly deployed and delivered

the atomic bomb. His two colleagues on the board were Lt Gen

Hoyt S. Vandenberg and Maj Gen Lauris Norstad, the two senior planning officers on the Air Staff.16 Col W. P. Fisher—who

had been General Arnold’s personal representative to Leslie

Groves on matters like target selection for the first bomb—was

the recorder. This arguably was the most senior study group

in Air Force history.

The Spaatz board carried out its work in highest secrecy,

meeting in continuous session for the next five and one-half

weeks. It delivered a final report (only three copies of which

were made) on 23 October 1945. More will be said of the

Spaatz report in a moment. First, however, for purposes of this

chapter, it is necessary to recognize parallel events that affected

the decision-making process in the Truman Administration on

arms control.

In his address to the nation on 9 August 1945, reporting on

the Potsdam Conference that had just concluded, Truman discussed what he called “the tragic significance” of the atomic

bomb. The bomb, he said, “is too dangerous to be loose in a

lawless world. That is why Great Britain and the United

States, who have the secret of its production, do not intend to

reveal the secret until means have been found to control the

bomb so as to protect ourselves and the rest of the world from

the danger of total destruction.”17 A process already was under

way to develop a policy to translate these words into an action

plan. Two days later, Secretary of War Henry Stimson sent the

president a memorandum recommending a new approach to

Russia on the A-bomb. Truman’s senior advisors were at odds

with one another on this issue, and their differences—coupled

with unfortunate leaks to the press—delayed development of a

policy. On 2 October 1945, the London foreign ministers’

9

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
meeting ended with no agreement with Russia on how to proceed with the postwar European settlement. The issue of the

newly discovered nuclear bomb was in the background of

every discussion.

Recognizing that something needed to be done quickly

about the bomb, a summit meeting in Washington between the

three wartime collaborators in its development—the United

States, Britain, and Canada—was hastily scheduled. On 17

October, roughly one month before this summit meeting was

to begin, Adm William D. Leahy—the president’s chief of staff

for national security matters and the de facto chairman of the

JCS—conveyed to the JCS the president’s desire that they

advise him on the issue. The JCS advice was delivered to

Truman on 23 October 1945, the same day that the Spaatz

report was completed. Thus, the senior Air Force leaders

simultaneously were considering what position to take on the

strategic significance of the bomb and on arms control at the

same time. One finds in this synergism the logic of the earliest

Air Force position on nuclear arms control.

The Spaatz report, informed by the knowledge of the truly

laboratory-like nature of the early atomic bombs that made

them unsuited for sustained military operations, looked at

both the opportunities and the threats posed by nuclear

weapons. It made the sober assumption that the atomic bomb

would be developed by other nations, presumably earlier than

later, and also assumed that other nations would develop aircraft and other delivery means comparable to those of the

United States.18 While the bomb offered the United States an

“additional” weapon (Spaatz also would call it a “complementary” weapon in a speech to a group of aircraft manufacturers

on 20 September 1945), it did not alter the basic concept of

strategic air offensive, nor did it warrant a material change in

the near-term conception of the employment, size, organization, and composition of the Air Force. As for threats, however,

atomic bombs in enemy hands would pose a severe defense

challenge. A successful attack with atomic bombs on vital

areas in the United States might critically affect the outcome

of the war.19

10

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
These conclusions were reached at the same time that the

JCS were being asked to advise the president on what position

he should take on the bomb at the coming three-power summit. The JCS referred the matter to the Joint Strategic Survey

Committee (JSSC) and a draft letter was prepared for JCS consideration. The initial draft narrowly addressed the question

asked of the JCS, namely, what policy to adopt in regard to

secrecy in the matter of the atomic bomb. The JSSC considered three alternatives: (1) to make available to all nations,

with or without agreements as to its use, information concerning atomic energy and the atomic bomb; (2) to entrust the

control of the atomic bomb to the Security Council of the

United Nations; and (3) in so far as practicable and for as long

as possible, to withhold the secrets of the atomic bomb from

all other nations. The JSSC recommended a letter based solely

on the third alternative.20

Somebody took the unusual step of furnishing a copy of the

draft JCS paper to Assistant Secretary of War for Air Robert A.

Lovett. The official JCS history for the period notes, “This is an

unusual incident since civilian Secretaries and Assistant

Secretaries of Military Departments do not normally see JCS

Papers.”21 Lovett recommended that the JCS broaden their

advice to indicate their support for a major effort to place the

atomic bomb under arms control. The JCS, including the Air

Force, agreed and the letter was redrafted so that, while it recommended that the United States not disarm unilaterally or

prematurely disclose restricted information on atomic

weapons, the chiefs were strongly on record that they regarded

“it as of great military importance that further steps of a political nature should be promptly and vigorously pressed during

the probably limited period of American monopoly, in an effort

to forestall a possible race in atomic weapons and to prevent

the exposure of the United States to a form of attack against

which present defenses are inadequate.”22

Was it General Marshall that first consulted with Lovett on

this matter? Was it Arnold or someone close to Arnold? Both

Marshall and Arnold had close, constructive relations with the

assistant secretary, based on strong bonds of mutual trust

and respect that developed during the war. They most certainly

11

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
already were discussing the bomb’s implications with Lovett.

It is not surprising, given the views contained in the Spaatz

report, that the senior Air Force leadership would support a

renewed effort at political controls. The atomic bomb at the

time was not seen as a near-term replacement for other

weapons for the conduct of strategic warfare, and in the hands

of an enemy power, it posed extremely difficult challenges to

air defenses. That the bomb later would come to play such an

important role in American defense policy was less a matter of

strategic choice in the early postwar years, and more a function of the limited defense budgets, the expanding security

commitments, and the need to offset Soviet conventional

power.23 But that lay in the future. First came the effort to

control atomic bombs.

The Baruch Plan

Wartime secrecy and the pressures of bringing World War II

to a satisfactory conclusion conspired to prevent serious planning during the final months of the war to develop a postwar

policy for the bomb. Secretary of War Stimson, who nominally

had responsibility for such matters, met with President

Truman on 3 September 1945 to initially broach the subject,

then followed up with a memorandum (11 September) and

another short meeting (12 September). Truman circulated

Stimson’s memorandum to his cabinet officers and asked

Stimson to address the issue in a full cabinet meeting on 21

September, Stimson’s final day in office. As discussed earlier

in this chapter, that meeting ended inconclusively and a leak

to the press led Truman not to call another large meeting to

discuss the matter. There is no record that JCS views were

solicited during this time on the arms-control questions relating to the bomb.24

Stimson had recommended a coordinated US-British

approach to the Russians to achieve consensus on how to

handle the bomb before going to the United Nations. At the

Washington summit, however, Truman, Prime Minister

Clement Attlee, and King rejected this approach in favor of

bringing the matter up directly at the United Nations prior to

reaching detailed agreement with the Russians. Joseph Stalin

12

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
did not object and the issue thus was placed on the agenda for

the first session of the United Nations that convened at a temporary location in London in January 1946. The United States

had opted to seek political controls on nuclear energy in a

multilateral forum. It now needed a specific proposal.

One hour before he departed for the London UN meeting,

Secretary of State James Byrnes asked his deputy, Dean

Acheson, to convene a small group to develop a plan for controlling the atomic bomb—a group formally known as the

Secretary of State’s Committee. Acheson’s associates in this

matter were Vannevar Bush (the president of Carnegie

Institute who had overseen all defense research and development during the war); James B. Conant (now president of

Harvard and one of Bush’s wartime deputies); John J. McCloy

(Stimson’s wartime assistant secretary); and Gen Leslie

Groves (still head of the Manhattan Project). Herbert Marks,

Acheson’s deputy, arranged for a board of consultants chaired

by David Lilienthal (then head of the Tennessee Valley

Authority). Lilienthal’s group included J. Robert Oppenheimer

(wartime director of Los Alamos who now was at the University

of California at Berkeley). Oppenheimer was the principal

author of the arms-control plan.25

When the question was raised at the State-War-Navy

Coordinating Committee on 24 January 1946 as to how the

arms-control proposal would be coordinated with the JCS, the

answer was that for the time being General Groves would

serve as liaison.26 That appeared to be a satisfactory arrangement. The Acheson-Lilienthal group conducted an intensive

11-week study, toward the end of which they met over several

long weekends at Dumbarton Oaks in Washington, D.C., to

compose their consensus report. The report was delivered to

Secretary Byrnes on 17 March 1946.

Notwithstanding Groves’s membership in the drafting

group, neither the JCS nor the military staffs appear to have

received regular updates on the work of the Acheson-Lilienthal

effort. This is understandable given their other priorities at the

time and the extreme secrecy still surrounding the A-bomb.27

This is not to say, however, that the chiefs were totally

removed from what was going on. On 2 December 1945,

13

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
General Eisenhower was informed that Sen. Brien McMahon,

chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Atomic Energy,

planned to hold hearings in the near future on the relationship

between the A-bomb and defense planning. Eisenhower

requested that the JSSC should review and update the ongoing JCS 1477 series of studies begun in August 1945 to assess

the impact of the bomb on the military, with three alternative

futures in mind: (1) one that banned the use of atomic energy

for military purposes; (2) one that set up a nuclear armscontrol regime regulated by the United Nations; and (3) one in

which there was an unrestrained nuclear arms race. The JCS

agreed, and the JSSC began work on an urgent basis. JCS

1477/10, the final version of the study, finally was approved

by the chiefs on 31 March 1946.28

Senator McMahon introduced his legislation for domestic

control of atomic energy on 20 December 1945. He was convinced by Secretary of State Byrnes to defer his hearings on

the A-bomb’s relation to defense planning and the question of

international control, pending completion of the AchesonLilienthal study. In early January 1946, Groves sent

Eisenhower a long memorandum on the subject, which

Eisenhower circulated to the other chiefs. At the same time,

subcommittees of the JCS were working on draft guidance for

contingency planning (one contingency being confrontation

with Russia), and on guidance to the JCS representatives to

the Military Staff Committee (MSC)—a body established by the

UN Charter to assist the Security Council in enforcement and

arms-control activities. The Air Force was involved in all these

activities (in fact, its representative on the MSC—Gen George

Kenney—was the ranking American military member of that

body). The JCS guidance to their representatives on the MSC

(JCS 1567/26) gave them broad latitude on how to proceed.

The chiefs approved this guidance on 24 January 1946 and

sent it to the State-War-Navy Coordinating Committee for

information, as well as to the MSC. The essence of the JCS

position on arms control at the time was captured in two

paragraphs of the paper:

No realistic system of inspection and control is as yet apparent which

will ensure against the production of atomic bombs for military use in

14

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
a nation that possesses such capability. However, in view of the certain

alternative that failure of international relations and control will result

in an atomic armament race, every effort must continue to be made to

develop and establish such a system.

Atomic weapons can be most effectively used against highly developed

nations having centralized industries. The United States is such a

nation. Consequently it is to the interest of the United States to

assume active leadership in establishing international means to control atomic weapons. So long as the United States is the sole nation

actually having atomic bombs and is furthest advanced in the field of

atomic energy, it holds a preeminent position for the exercise of such

leadership. This preeminence will wane with the passage of time.

Therefore all possible action should be taken under United States leadership before other nations develop their own atomic weapons.29

The Acheson-Lilienthal report went to the president on 21

March 1945. Acheson was not aware prior to delivery of the

report to Secretary Byrnes on 17 March, that Byrnes and

Truman had selected Bernard Baruch to head the delegation

that would present the US proposal. The White House

announced on 18 March that Baruch’s name had been sent to

the Senate. Baruch began assembling a team of advisors that

included Maj Gen Thomas F. Farrell, Groves’s deputy.

Eventually, Groves also would be assigned to Baruch as his

senior military technical advisor.

For the next two months, an intense interagency struggle

ensued between Baruch and Acheson on the details of the

American proposal. Baruch insisted, and Truman agreed, that

Baruch would have latitude in developing the American proposal, using the Acheson-Lilienthal report as a starting point.

By late May, Baruch had come to the conclusion that the basic

approach proposed by Acheson—an international authority

with positive developmental functions—was sound, and

agreed that while an inspection system was necessary as part

of a step-by-step approach to arms control, no inspection system could guarantee compliance. But Baruch was disturbed

that the plan did not spell out what would happen in the case

of cheating. 

The military found itself in the middle of this debate.

Meanwhile, Air Force leadership and organization was changing. On 1 March 1946, Arnold finally had retired, to be

15

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
replaced by General Spaatz. Three weeks later, Spaatz

announced a major reorganization of the Air Force (still the

Army Air Corps since the military reorganization legislation

still was being worked). Part of the reorganization entailed the

creation of Strategic Air Command (SAC). General Kenney was

dual-hatted for the moment as the first commander of SAC

and as senior Air Force representative to the MSC. One gets a

sense of the priorities of the time from the fact that until late

1946 Kenney elected to give most of his attention to his UN

duties, letting his deputy run SAC. 

On 15 April 1946, Baruch met with the Army and Army Air

Force leaders. Generals Eisenhower, Groves, Spaatz, and others were present. A memorandum for the record of the meeting was prepared by Lt Gen John E. Hull, assistant chief of

staff for the Operations Division on the Army General Staff.

Hull’s memo indicated that there was agreement at the meeting that the plan Baruch was considering (basically the

Acheson-Lilienthal report with adjustments) was sound, that

the crux of the matter was whether or not the Russians would

accept inspection and control on an international basis, and

that the United States should not stop producing atomic

weapons until accord actually was reached.30 It is unclear

whether the issue of sanctions was discussed at this time. A

memo prepared for Hull prior to the meeting by Brig Gen G. A.

Lincoln, the influential chief of the Strategy and Policy Group

on the Army Staff, was skeptical whether the Russians ever

would accept any such system.31 Eisenhower appears to still

have been more optimistic than his staff on the possibility of

cooperation with the Russians.32 Spaatz appears to have

shared his staff’s skepticism.

By late May, Baruch realized he needed to finish preparation of the proposal since the mid-June meeting of the United

Nations Atomic Energy Commission (UNAEC) was fast

approaching. On 24 May, Baruch sent identical letters to nine

senior US military officers including each member of the JCS,

asking them broad questions about how compliance with the

treaty might be ensured and specific questions about whether

the plan should allow for automatic punishment in event of

violation of the treaty.33 Eisenhower, about to depart

16

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Washington for a tour of military facilities in the Pacific, suggested to Baruch that he should ask the JCS for a formal recommendation, and suggested at the same time to the JCS that

they task the Joint Staff to begin drafting a joint reply. Spaatz

and his colleagues agreed, and the Air Staff began working

with the Joint Staff on a draft.34 On 7 June 1946, however, the

JCS learned that President Truman had just approved

instructions to Baruch, including authorizing him to propose

that the veto be suspended in the Security Council on matters

involving allegations of violations of a treaty for control of

atomic weapons. This was at the heart of the sanctions issue,

and in light of the presidential decision already having been

made, the JCS opted to have each member respond directly to

Baruch with personal views instead of composing a joint reply.

Spaatz agreed with Eisenhower and Nimitz on most of the

fundamentals of the US proposal. He disagreed on penalties,

however. Spaatz believed that the control agreement should

provide for immediate, effective multilateral action in the case

of violations. He reportedly felt that the control system was

unlikely to succeed and that America would have to develop a

deterrent as the best insurance against failure of control.35

After the Baruch Plan

What next happened is well known. On 14 June, Baruch

presented the US proposal for control of atomic weapons. The

Russians responded with a counterproposal that called for

immediate prohibitions on the bomb and dismantling of the

American nuclear stockpile, to be followed by working out the

details of a control regime. A stalemate ensued as the Cold

War unfolded. Some scholars reviewing this period have suggested that the chiefs were categorically opposed to arms control.36 The record does not support this conclusion. While the

chiefs had varying views on whether a plan could be negotiated with the Soviets, they supported the Baruch plan as the

technically best alternative and were on record wanting negotiations to succeed. They were being asked, in a much less formal setting than would later be available, to provide advice on

what we today would call the military sufficiency of the proposal, and on how to respond to militarily significant cheating.

17

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
Their advice in hindsight appears sound. The Air Force,

notwithstanding the fact that it still technically was part of the

Army, had a coequal voice in the development of the advice.

And the chief Air Force spokesman, General Spaatz, was the

chief author of the Air Force report which a year earlier had

highlighted the dangers of the bomb for future US security.

When the Air Force officially became a separate service on

18 September1947 when the National Security Act took effect,

Spaatz ceased being commanding general of the Army Air

Forces and formally became chief of staff of the US Air Force.

He retired seven months later, and Gen Hoyt Vandenberg succeeded him. General Vandenberg was especially well-positioned

to assess the unfolding Soviet threat since he had served as an

early head of the newly created Central Intelligence Group—a

forerunner of the Central Intelligence Agency that would be

created by the same legislation that gave the Air Force its separate service status.

Arms-control discussions continued in the UNAEC and in

the United Nations Commission for Conventional Armaments

(UNCCA) that was created by the Security Council in February

1947, but they no longer were conducted on the basis of anticipating real results. By the autumn of 1948, Bernard Brodie—

a respected analyst of the times (who for a brief period would

serve as a special assistant to the Air Force Chief of Staff)—

expressed the views of many when he wrote in Foreign Affairs:

The impact of the atomic bomb on United States policy has thus far

been evidenced most clearly in the almost frantic effort to secure the

adoption of a system of international control of atomic energy. . . . Two

years of work by the United Nations Atomic Energy Commission have

resulted in some illumination of the problem but almost no progress

toward a solution. . . . [W]here does that leave us? It leaves us, for one

thing, with the unwanted bomb still in our hands, and, so far as we

know, still exclusively in our hands. It leaves us also under the compulsion to go on building more bombs and better ones if possible. We

must continue our search for a workable and secure international control system by any corridor which reflects even a glimmer of hope of

success, but we must also begin to consider somewhat more earnestly

and responsibly than we have thus far what it will mean for the nation

to adjust to an atomic age devoid of international controls.37

18

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
And adjust the United States did. In early 1949 the West

created the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), and in

the fall of 1949, the Soviet Union tested a nuclear bomb,

shortly before the Chinese Communist Party won the Chinese

civil war. In 1950, the Korean War erupted. The massive

nuclear armaments race that the JCS had anticipated if arms

control failed was under way, and nuclear deterrence was rapidly moving to the center of American defense policy. This

dominated Air Force planning, even during the Korean War.

While the United States did not cease arms-control discussions in the United Nations, the Air Force was not deeply

involved in such activities for the remainder of the time under

discussion in this chapter. The Air Force chief, like the other

chiefs, would be apprised of developments on matters such as

NSC 112—principles for arms control approved by Truman in

July 1951—but he was not a major player in its development.38 During this time, senior Air Force officers, active duty

and retired, shared a basic skepticism widespread in

Washington that the Soviets would be willing to engage in serious discussions, or that they would open their closed society

to inspections. 

In the autumn of 1951, the UN created a single disarmament commission as a successor to the UNAEC and the

UNCCA. In the aftermath of this event, and to review existing

US arms-control policy, J. Robert Oppenheimer was asked to

convene a panel to assess the prospects for arms control. The

panel’s report was delivered to the White House in January

1953, in the waning days of the Truman Administration. It

laid out in detail the case why the prospects for arms control

with a Soviet Union governed by a leader such as Stalin were

unfavorable.39 That was a view shared by the Air Force.

Concluding Observations

This chapter has not attempted to reconstruct the details of

how the Air Staff helped the Air Force chief of staff on armscontrol matters prior to 1953—a task that may be impossible to

reconstruct, given the passage of time, the informal way of doing

business for much of the period under discussion, the freshness

of the activity, and the extreme secrecy that surrounded the

19

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
A-bomb in the early years. It always is difficult to reconstruct the

workings of a large body like the Air Staff, all the more so in

nuclear matters for the period in question.

Still, there is enough of a documentary record to establish

that the senior Air Force leadership was involved at a high

level on arms-control matters and took positions largely supportive of the early effort—positions that can be explicated in

modern terms such as military sufficiency and safeguards

against militarily significant violations of potential treaties.

There is no reason to believe that the JCS, corporately or individually, wanted the Baruch plan to fail. They, like many other

American officials at the time, were uncertain about the

future. They agreed that the central thrust of the AchesonLilienthal proposal and the Baruch plan offered the technically

best alternative to a limited arms race. They cautioned that

the United States should be prepared for either outcome, at

the same time that they tried to work political arrangements

that protected the West. That is the central story of the early

Air Force involvement in arms control.

Notes

1. The Russian circular note proposing the Hague Peace Conference is

reprinted in James Brown Scott, ed., Instructions to the American Delegates

to the Hague Peace Conferences and Their Official Reports (New York: Oxford

University Press, 1916), 1–5.

2. Ibid., 7.

3. Captain Crozier’s intervention in Commission I at the 1899 Hague

Conference is discussed in Tami Davis Biddle, “Air Power,” a chapter in The

Laws of War: Constraints on Warfare in the Western World, ed. Michael

Howard, George J. Andreopoulos, and Mark R. Shulman (New Haven, Conn.:

Yale University Press, 1994), 141.

4. Martin Middlebrook, The Battle of Hamburg (London: Allan Lane, 1980

[new imprint, London: Cassell, 2000]), 17.

5. Quoted in Ronald Schaffer, Wings of Judgment: American Bombing in

World War II (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985), 26.

6. Mitchell’s lengthy paragraph on possible restrictions on aerial warfare

can be found in his 128-page “Notes on the Multi-motored Bombardment

Group, Day and Night”—a paper which otherwise addresses operational

matters. Gen Laurence Kuter, himself an early student and instructor at the

Air Tactical School, recalls that these notes in essence constituted Air Force

doctrine until the late 1920s. I rely for this account on Kuter’s unpublished

paper, apparently written in 1943 or 1944 when Kuter was assistant chief

20

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
of the Air Staff for Plans and Combat Operations, entitled “Air Power-The

American Concept (Notes on which a Series of Articles Might Be Prepared).”

This paper can be found in Box 2 of the Kuter Papers in the Special

Collections Division, USAF Academy Library, Colorado Springs, Colo.

7. Schaffer, 26–37. Also see David R. Mets, Master of Airpower: General

Carl A. Spaatz (Novato, Calif.: Presidio Press, 1988), 57–58; and Walton S.

Moody, Building a Strategic Air Force (Washington, D.C.: Air Force History

and Museums Program, 1995), 16.

8. See Donald Cameron Watt, “Restraints on War in the Air Before 1945,”

a chapter in Michael Howard, ed., Restraints on War: Studies in the

Limitation of Armed Conflict (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979), 57–77;

and Michael S. Sherry, The Rise of American Air Power: The Creation of

Armageddon (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1987), 33–34.

9. This is discussed in detail in F. M. Sallagar, The Road to Total War:

Escalation in World War II (Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND, April 1969). Also see

Eric Larrabee, Commander in Chief: Franklin Delano Roosevelt, His

Lieutenants, and Their War (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1987).

10. See Telford Taylor, The Anatomy of the Nuremberg Trials (New York:

Alfred A. Knopf, 1992), 324–29.

11. Walton S. Moody, 7. Arnold already appears to have a general knowledge of the program, probably learned directly from his immediate superior,

Gen George Marshall, chief of staff of the Army and Groves’ boss.

12. The best account of the limited arms-control deliberations during the

war can be found in chapter three of McGeorge Bundy’s book, Danger and

Survival: Choices About the Bomb in the First Fifty Years (New York: Random

House, 1988).

13. A statement had been crafted at Potsdam, for public release in

Washington upon word that the first bomb had been dropped. Announcement

of the bomb was expected to produce a torrent of requests for information. With

this in mind, a detailed report prepared by the physicist, Henry DeWolf Smyth,

was to be made publicly available. This report was intended to establish a

boundary between what could be said publicly and what would remain highly

classified. The Smyth report has been reprinted in the Stanford Nuclear Age

Series as Henry DeWolf Smyth, Atomic Energy for Military Purposes (Stanford,

Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1989).

14. See Perry M. Smith, The Air Force Plans for Peace, 1943–1945

(Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1970), 16.

15. Copies of the tasking memo and the report can be found in the

Papers of Carl Andrew Spaatz, Series I, Box 22, Manuscript Division, Library

of Congress, Washington, D.C. 

16. In October 1945, Vandenberg was the assistant chief of staff for

Operations, Commitments, and Requirements. Norstad was the assistant

chief of staff for Plans.

17. President Truman’s 9 August 1946 address to the nation is included

as an appendix in US Department of State, The International Control of

21

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL
Atomic Energy: Growth of a Policy (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing

Office [GPO], n.d.), 106–8.

18. Although the Spaatz report did not estimate how long it would take a

state like the Soviet Union to acquire nuclear weapons, there is circumstantial

evidence that the Air Force leaders favored the earlier vice later estimates then

circulating in Washington. In October 1946, when Norstad briefed President

Truman on military reorganization matters, he told the president that planning

was premised on the belief that the Soviets could develop the bomb as early as

1949 although they probably could not produce nuclear weapons in significant

numbers before 1951. I base this on a copy of briefing notes entitled,

“Presentation Given to the President by Major General Lauris Norstad on 29

October 1946,” that can be found in the Papers of Hoyt S. Vandenberg, Box 63,

Manuscript Division, Library of Congress.

19. Spaatz report. The report recommended that a senior officer “of the

caliber of Maj Gen Curtis E. LeMay” should be assigned to a newly created

position on the Air Staff, to direct future research and development related

to atomic energy. Typed at the bottom of the report was Arnold’s response:

“I approve this report without qualification, and I strongly emphasize that

the national interest demands relentless efforts, operationally and technically, in research and development, especially as they relate to future air

weapons.” By this time, Arnold had commissioned Theodore von Kármán to

conduct a broad study of future technologies for the Air Force. In December

1945, on behalf of the Scientific Advisory Group that he chaired, von

Kármán submitted the report entitled “Toward New Horizons” to Arnold.

20. I base this account on a declassified memorandum, subject: “Military

Policy as to Secrecy Requirements for the Atomic Bomb (J.C.S. 1471/2),” 22

October 1945. This paper can be found in the records of the JCS, central

decimal file 1948–50, Box 222, CCS 471.6 (8-15-45) sec. 1, The National

Archives, Washington, D.C.

21. James F. Schnabel, The History of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, vol. 1,

1945–1947 (Washington, D.C.: Historical Division, Joint Secretariat, Joint

Chiefs of Staff, February 1979), 259 fn.

22. Memorandum for the President from the JCS, 23 October 1945. The

copy of the memorandum I am working with comes from the Papers of Harry

S. Truman, President’s Secretary’s Files, Box 199, Harry S. Truman Library,

Independence, Mo.

23. See Samuel R. Williamson Jr., and Steven L. Rearden, The Origins of

U.S. Nuclear Strategy, 1945–1953 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1993).

24. Schnabel, The History of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, vol. 1, 1945–1947,

256 fn.

25. See Dean Acheson, Present at the Creation (New York: W. W. Norton

& Company, 1969), 149–56, and Richard G. Hewlett and Oscar E. Anderson

Jr., The New World: A History of the United States Atomic Energy

Commission, vol. 1, 1939–1946 (University Park, Pa.: Pennsylvania State

University Press, 1962 [new imprint, Berkeley, Calif.: University of California

Press, 1990]), 531–54.

22

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
26. US Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States (hereafter referred to as FRUS), 1946, vol. 1 (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1972), 737.

27. In his memoirs, Groves recalls the late 1945 and early 1946 period in

the following terms: “I was receiving little if any guidance from the Executive

Branch [in running the Manhattan Project], since both the Secretary of War and

the Chief of Staff, having only recently come into the atomic picture, felt that

my background enabled me to make the necessary decisions better than they

could. . . . When I first started to explain the atomic program to Mr. Patterson

[who replaced Stimson as Secretary of War] and General Eisenhower [who

replaced Marshall as chief of staff of the Army], they said that they did not want

me to give them any secret information if I could help it, particularly about the

production rates and the number of bombs on hand. As General Eisenhower

put it, ‘in a project such as this, where knowledge is held to such a few people,

it makes it particularly difficult’.” Leslie M. Groves, Now It Can Be Told: The

Story of the Manhattan Project (New York: Harper, 1962, [reprinted by Da Capo

Press, 1983]), 380.

28. See Louis Galambos, ed., The Papers of Dwight David Eisenhower,

vol. 7 (Baltimore, Md.: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1978), 761–62 fn.

29. JCS 1567/26, “Guidance as to the Military Implications of a United

Nations Commission on Atomic Energy,” 12 January 1946. I am using copy

no. 23 of this JCS document that can be found in The National Archives II,

Modern Military Records, Records of the JCS, Central Decimal File,

1946–47, Box 092, CCS 092 (4-14-45) sec. 4.

30. Galambos, vol. 7, 1078 fn.

31. Memorandum for General Hull from Brig Gen G. A. Lincoln, 11 Apr

1946. I am using the file copy of this memorandum that can be found at The

National Archives II, Modern Military Records, RG 319/152: Army Plans and

Operations Division, 1946 –1948, War Department Decimal 388.3:

Disarmament and Limitation of Armaments. I am grateful to Capt Ed Kaplan

of the History Department at the US Air Force Academy for calling this memorandum to my attention.

32. Galambos, vol. 7, 1106 fn.

33. I am using a copy of Baruch’s letter that can be found in the Papers

of Bernard M. Baruch, Seeley G. Mudd Manuscript Library, Princeton

University, Box 52.

34. Galambos, vol. 7, 1093–94 fn.

35. See Galambos, vol. 7, 1128 fn, and Hewlett and Anderson, The New

World, 575.

36. See Townsend Hoopes and Douglas Brinkley, Driven Patriot: The Life

and Times of James Forrestal (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1992), 287–88.

37. Bernard Brodie, “The Atom Bomb as Policy Maker,” Foreign Affairs,

27:1 (October 1948), 17–18.

38. The text of NSC 112 can be found in FRUS, 1951, vol. 1, 477–97.

39. The text of the Oppenheimer report can be found in FRUS,

1952–1954, vol. 2, 1056–91.

23

THE UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND ARMS CONTROL

Chapter 2

Peace through Strength Alone:

US Air Force Views on Arms Control in

the 1950s and Early 1960s

Edward Kaplan

The United States Air Force of the 1950s and 1960s exemplified the general principle that organizations tend to reflect

their leaders’ beliefs.1 During this period, an extraordinary

string of generals whose formative combat experience was as

bomber pilots and commanders in the Second World War led

the USAF and the Strategic Air Command (SAC) through a

period in which the latter became the cornerstone of America’s

deterrent strength. These decades also saw the continuation of

early attempts at arms control and disarmament conducted in

an environment of doubt and fear barely comprehensible

today. Furthermore, the John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B.

Johnson administrations signed agreements over the objections of those Air Force leaders responsible for SAC and the

deterrent force.

Air Force mistrust of arms-control initiatives during this era

was centered on a perceived incompatibility of those initiatives

with deterrent and war-fighting strategy, a general mistrust of

the Soviet Union, a refusal to adapt to evolving deterrent

thought, and friction with the post-1961 civilian Department

of Defense leadership. This chapter examines each of these

problems in turn and then briefly recounts the debate over the

Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963 as a historical example of

these objections.

The Air Force Perspective

Before delving into Air Force objections to the arms-control

process in the 1950s and 1960s, some definitions are necessary. Specifically, who best represents the Air Force view on

25
any subject? For the purposes of this chapter, I have construed

this as narrowly as available sources allow—the Air Force chiefs

of staff and their planning organizations. Unlike the Strategic

Arms Limitation Talks I (SALT I) and later arms-control agreements, the Air Force in this period did not have formal negotiating teams or a separate planning body for arms control and

disarmament.2 Rather, the Air Staff plans branch appears to

have provided disarmament guidance to the chief of staff on

an as-needed basis. There are no readily available documents

showing a separate Air Force view on arms-control issues other

than those created by the plans branch for Air Force internal

consumption. Views provided upward to the National Security

Council (NSC), the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD),

and the president appear only in a consolidated form with

other service views in Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) papers. The

long-range plans branch that later produced arms-control

positions was not even created until the mid-1950s as an outgrowth of an ad hoc long-range planning group, the Lignon

Committee.3

So, the question arises, “How to get at an ‘Air Force’ position”? The four best sources for these opinions are Air Force

chief of staff testimony before congressional committees, books

produced after retirement, internal Air Force plans staff

papers, and NSC and JCS papers and discussions where the

chief of staff participated. During the period in question, the

opinions of a few men stand out as most relevant to discerning

an Air Force stance. Generals Thomas D. White, Nathan F.

Twining, Curtis E. LeMay, and Thomas S. Powers can best be

said to represent the Air Force position. The first three were Air

Force chiefs of staff during the 1950s and early 1960s. The last

two led SAC from its formative years in the late-1940s through

its heyday in the mid-1960s.

They share a number of common characteristics. Notably, all

these men were members of what Col Michael Worden refers

to as the “senior World War II generation” in his insightful

book Rise of the Fighter Generals.4 This group is notable for its

rapid ascent to command positions during World War II and

dominance of the Air Force hierarchy in the early Cold War years.

“[They] showed resolve, steadfastness, and determination. Sortie

26

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
production, tonnage dropped, and bombs on target were their

concept of strategy; strict flight discipline, perseverance, and

growing numbers their methods.”5 These experiences, and the

methods derived from them, shaped early Cold War Air Force

fighting doctrine and the generals’ opinions of the value of

arms control and disarmament.

Postwar Arms Control

The arms control and disarmament proposals and agreements they were asked to weigh in on during their tenures at

the top of the Air Force hierarchy would be precedent-setting

for later negotiations. The Eisenhower Administration pursued

a number of arms control-related measures from 1953 forward. The Atoms for Peace proposal in that year called for an

international organization to supervise the peaceful development of nuclear energy with nuclear material donated by the

United States and USSR.6 A later plan, Atoms for Police, envisioned an international atomic armed force under the auspices of the United Nations (UN) Security Council, which would

enforce its mandates.7 Both proposals, with their emphasis on

international regulation, clearly show their roots in 1940s proposals such as the Baruch plan. President Eisenhower also proposed measures more directly related to the control of nuclear

weapons. The Open Skies proposal of 1955 recommended aerial

reconnaissance, rather than the more intrusive ground inspection, of the United States and USSR as a first step toward

arms reductions.8 Although that plan failed, Eisenhower

showed his dedication to disarmament by agreeing to a testing

moratorium from 1958 to 1961, followed by ultimately fruitless negotiations on a formal agreement.9 As will be discussed,

the Soviet breaking of the moratorium in 1961 was an important source of Air Force opposition to the Limited Test Ban

Treaty two years later.

The Kennedy and Johnson administrations achieved more

progress in their efforts at formal arms-control agreements. The

1963 Limited Test Ban Treaty succeeded where the Eisenhower

Administration had failed from 1958 to 1961 in outlawing the

testing of nuclear weapons in the three environments of air,

sea, and space. The Johnson Administration followed this with

27

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
two further agreements: the Outer Space Treaty of 1967 and

the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty the following year. The former prohibited the placement of any nuclear weapon in orbit or

on a celestial body.10 The latter attempted to slow the spread

of weapons to other countries by having nuclear signatories

pledge not to aid any nonnuclear country in gaining nuclear

weapons and nonnuclear signatories promise not to seek such

a capability.11 The bomber generals opposed these agreements

to a greater or lesser degree and based their opposition on a

genuinely felt opinion that such treaties were gravely damaging to the national security.

Nuclear Strategy

Much of their opposition stemmed from their view of how

the Air Force and the United States would fight and win a conflict with the USSR. The bomber generals and their staffs were

reluctant to change their notions of what composed an effective fighting strategy. At its core, this strategy called for having a war-winning capability should deterrence fail. This capacity required continuous technological advancement to preserve

America’s nuclear superiority, which was the essential requirement for such a strategy. Arms control and disarmament initiatives that would directly interfere with the necessary measure of this superiority were anathema.

Contrary to later notions that a nuclear war could not be

won in any meaningful sense, the Air Force’s first strategic air

operations doctrine manual, Air Force Manual 1-8, Air Doctrine:

Strategic Air Operations published in 1954, defined the role of

the strategic air force as “to defeat the enemy nation.”12 These

operations were to be carried out with a maximum amount of

force in the smallest amount of time because “the rapidity of

collapse will be directly proportional to the timing and weight

of attack.”13 More generally, the Air Force’s primary task if

deterrence should fail was to “prevail in general war.”14 The

war plan to implement this doctrine, which originated with

LeMay in the early 1950s, was known informally as the

“Sunday Punch.” This concept called for the unrestrained use

of the stockpile in the first blow.15

28

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
The Sunday Punch had at its core a belief in the primacy of

atomic airpower. In the words of Maj Gen Richard C. Lindsay,

the head of Air Force Plans in 1955, “One or the other [nuclear

armed nation] gains the ascendancy through better use of his

atomic weapons and becomes the victor.”16 That ascendancy

must be brought about through the “maximum effort” against

the “sources of enemy strength.”17 This effort needed to be compressed into the smallest amount of time to maximize shock.

During the mid-1950s, Air Force plans called for the decisive

phase of the war to last no more than 30 days.18 The first four

days of combat would constitute the most intensive phase of

this effort. During this period, SAC would hit 388 airfields and

24 guided-missile sites. Furthermore, 14 cities with populations over 100,000 would be hit as “a bonus effect.” The second phase, which would extend until D+30, would see the

destruction of a further 2,800 targets.19 In the words of an

unidentified Air Force planner, “Is there a humanly contrived

organization which can resist such stupendous force applied

in such a short period? I doubt it.”20 In other words, the clear

objective of such a plan was victory.

Chief of Staff Nathan F. Twining stated his expectations of

victory in a speech to the secretaries of the Armed Services in

1955, “General atomic warfare will be characterized by maximum destruction during its opening phases. If one contestant

does not capitulate as a result of the opening phase, the decision may well rest with the side retaining the most effective

atomic delivery capability.”21 That is, if deterrence failed, the

United States needed to achieve “relative advantage.”22

Success in the initial phase would determine the ultimate outcome of the conflict.23 Air Force planners also recognized that

the faster the United States struck the Soviet Union, the fewer

bombs would land on American targets. “We dare not risk one

deniable hydrogen bomb on our country for want of urgency

in our reaction.”24

Such sentiments were reflected in a planning emphasis on

destroying what would later be termed counterforce targets.

Contemporary war plans divided up the Soviet target complex

into three categories. The first and most important set was

BRAVO, blunting targets whose destruction would hinder a

29

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
Soviet atomic offensive. Only after BRAVO had been destroyed

would SAC follow up with raids on DELTA, the disruption set.

These targets included industries and sites critical to Soviet

war-making capability such as atomic energy, liquid fuel production, and jet engines. The third target set, ROMEO or retardation, included troop concentrations and their supporting

infrastructure. This was to be SAC’s direct contribution to the

defense of Western Europe and would be struck simultaneously with DELTA.25

As American estimates of Soviet offensive and defensive

capabilities increased through the 1950s, the quantitative and

qualitative requirements for these operations spiraled ever

upwards. Maintenance of the qualitative edge compelled continued technological superiority. Not only must Air Force

bombers be able to penetrate to their assigned targets, but the

faster they could do so and the heavier bomb loads they could

carry, the faster victory could be achieved. Therefore, any

arms-control measure that hindered such technological development would be against the US national interest. According

to General Twining, “To counter [the increasingly sophisticated

Soviet air threat] we must continue to maintain better aircraft,

better weapons, and a higher degree of operational readiness

and flexibility. . . . [We must] maintain the qualitatively superior strategic Air Force.”26 Recent experience with the vulnerability of the B-29 to the MiG-15 over Korea reinforced this

opinion and forced the cessation of B-29 daylight strikes in

1952–53.27

Research and Development

The Air Force and the joint chiefs feared that this critical

research and development could be hindered by arms-control

agreements. In 1955, the JCS warned the president’s disarmament advisor, Mr. Charles Coolidge, that any reductions in

research and development could lead to the withering away of

the US capability to carry out that research as industry

realigned to more profitable endeavors. In the meantime, the

Soviets, with their subsidized economy, would be able to maintain the organizations and personnel in place to carry out

research in secret or to be prepared to do so should they

30

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
abrogate an agreement. “[It] is essential to maintain a continuous program to update our materiel.”28 Furthermore, the long

lead times required for development meant that interruption of

research would result in unacceptable delays in fielding necessary updated weapons systems. The JCS warned, “We specifically disagree with any concept of limiting the forward march

of technology in military fields, for example, by the elimination

of further nuclear tests.”29

The advances the Air Staff and JCS foresaw were not limited

to simply updating existing weapons systems. As early as 1952,

the Air Staff stated a requirement to develop reconnaissance

satellites as soon as possible. A memorandum from then Lt

Gen Thomas D. White, dated December 1952, asserted that

such a vehicle was absolutely necessary to provide warning of

an impending Soviet attack due to limits of aerial reconnaissance. This would allow SAC to launch its assault on the

BRAVO target set as soon as possible. White went on to cite

the reconnaissance satellite as a stepping stone toward future

space-based weapons, as well as providing significant “political, scientific, and psychological advantages.”30

Fewer than 10 years later, White, then vice chief of staff, foresaw even larger advantages to continued research and development in space vehicles. He thought the new Kennedy

Administration’s dedication to the peaceful use of space was

shortsighted. Future technologies that might supercede thermonuclear weapons might only be invented if space were fully

exploited for military use.31 One year earlier, LeMay approved

an Air Force Council recommendation that stated unequivocally, “The use of space as an extension of the battlefield is

inevitable. . . . Space operations are a natural extension of the

present USAF operational environment.”32 Within a year of

this general decision to go forward with USAF space capabilities, the Air Force Council was urging manned military missions and a rapid increase in Air Force funding of space programs such as the Dynasoar and sharing the Apollo program

with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA).

Recommended milestones in the Air Force program included a

permanent manned space station by 1967 and a permanent

31

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
lunar base by 1971.33 Thus, research and development were

designed to provide any possible edge to the Sunday Punch.

To summarize, during this period (1953–60) Air Force plans

for war with the Soviet Union called for a rapid and powerful

strike against a full range of targets with an emphasis on the

BRAVO or blunting mission. The goal was to first minimize

damage to the United States from a Soviet attack by preemptively destroying it at its source and then go on to destroy

Soviet war-making capability. The critical part of this would be

the speed and weight of the initial attack. These, in turn,

required a continued qualitative and quantitative edge over

the Soviet Union. Therefore, disarmament agreements that

hampered the Air Force from fulfilling this mission were contrary to the national security.

Alternative Perspectives

Many outside the Air Force in the late 1950s began to question this notion of deterrence that required maximum effort in

minimum time. Air Force leaders reacted by resisting any

change to what they believed constituted an effective deterrent. In the words of then Lt Gen Frank F. Everest, the deputy

chief of staff for Operations in 1955, “The only apparent

restraints on the conduct of Communism have been obviously

attributable to their need to avoid total war. Such restraint

was imposed by the significant U. S. superiority in nuclear

warfare [emphasis added].”34

Notions of minimal deterrence, graduated deterrence, and a

solely countervalue force were deemed ineffective and dangerous. Since these new ideas informed many of those supporting arms-control measures, by opposing these notions, USAF

leaders were simultaneously questioning the underpinnings of

the proposals.

Minimum Deterrence

The most alien idea to the existing USAF doctrine was minimum deterrence which cast uncertainty on the counterforce policy emphasized by the late-1950s war plans with their requirement for striking BRAVO targets first. Minimum deterrence

32

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
advocates claimed that the counterforce arsenal was wasteful

and that all that was required for an effective deterrent was a

small, invulnerable force capable of inflicting unacceptable damage on Soviet population centers and industry. This threat would

be adequate to prevent Moscow from launching a general war.

Furthermore, since advocates assumed that the US arsenal

would be used only after a Soviet first strike, a counterforceoriented force would be wasteful since it would land on empty

airfields and silos. Thus, minimum deterrence provided adequate security at a much lower cost than the 1950s counterforce-oriented SAC.

Air Force planners disagreed. They argued that forces

designed to “present a credible threat of defeat”35 constituted

a more effective deterrent than did forces, such as those advocated by minimum deterrent proponents that only exacted a

high price for victory. Furthermore, such a force, “[supported]

completely the only sound military and national policy, that of

winning a war should deterrence fail.”36 While a minimum

deterrent might function under most circumstances, a “force

adequate to achieve victory under any circumstances . . . is

also a deterrent to the highest achievable degree.”37 By contrast, the minimum deterrent would be inadequate because it

would not “confront an enemy with a credible threat of

defeat.”38 Further, they criticized the underlying assumptions

of minimum deterrence—that sufficient damage against a

nation could be precisely forecast in advance. If a nation had

provision for industrial recovery and had shown a willingness

to “sacrifice human life on an extravagant scale in the attainment of political objectives”39—as had the USSR in World War

II—then the price exacted by a minimum deterrent might be

one that nation would be willing to pay.

Beyond this issue was one tied directly into Air Force warfighting philosophy. The planners criticized that a minimum

deterrent force would be unable to take the initiative. One

study stated,

What has deterred aggression in Europe, and in other vital areas for

the past ten years, has been primarily the counterforce aspect of the

general war capability, backed up by the expressed willingness to use

any and all forces to defend the Free World if it should become necessary. An enemy nation is most effectively deterred from attempting

33

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
major acts of limited aggression if he is made to realize that we have

both the will and the physical capability to retaliate with general war

forces, and that, should we do so, the resulting possession of the initiative and a counter force capability will lead to our destroying his

general war retaliatory capability.40

Finally, since a minimum deterrent would only be targeted

against a general war capability, the United States would have

to build up expensive conventional forces solely for limited

(i.e., nonnuclear) war. This potential expense would far exceed

that required for a continued counterforce arsenal that would

be capable of deterring both limited and general war. “Such a

strategy would eventually become a far greater drain on the

taxpayer, than the present one if Europe survived long enough

to implement it in the first place.”41

Graduated Deterrence

Related to the arguments against the minimum deterrent

were those arrayed against graduated deterrence. As defined

by the Air Force planners examining the concept in 1960, this

meant the development of a “politico-military capacity capable

of containing every conceivable type of Communist threat.”42

Clearly harkening back to the Korean experience, the planners claimed that this concept was flawed in several areas.

First, it assumed that all war was divisible into neatly defined

categories against which an efficiently planned force could be

programmed and maintained. This ran against what the authors

claimed was recent experience that levels of war tended to

blend together and could not be considered separately. Second,

this new idea assumed that all kinds of war were equally likely

instead of acknowledging that wars of attrition belonged to the

past. As with the minimum deterrent, this thinking led to the

conclusion that expensive conventional forces must be maintained for all levels of war. Third, the planners believed that

segmentation of the spectrum of war, and the forces designed

to wage it, into distinct elements ignored the capability of

forces to operate at multiple levels of conflict. A credible counterforce deterrent could eliminate or greatly reduce the chance

of conventional war. Finally, a military tailored to a graduated

34

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
deterrent model, like one keyed to a minimal deterrent, would

be an unlimited strain on national resources.43

Countervalue Targeting

The plans staff also addressed the underlying issue of countervalue targeting versus counterforce targeting. The former concept, which formed the underpinning of the minimum deterrent,

was considered irrational. In their thinking, the only valid target for the application of military force was the enemy military

or targets that directly affect them.

Destruction that does not affect the war’s outcome in one’s

favor was “politically and morally unjustifiable.”44 Given the

assumption that no future general war would last long enough

for industry to have an impact on victory, attacking a city

would be “anachronistic and inhumane.”45 Thus, countervalue

was militarily and morally bankrupt. By contrast counterforce

meant that, “the United States has the means to defeat the

enemy’s military forces, and by so doing, to deter general war,

or to prevail should it occur.” It was, “the most essential ingredient of the US war-winning capability.”46 As these examples

show, the Air Force strongly resisted modifying its counterforce dogma as the 1950s drew to a close.

(Dis)trusting the Soviets

Underlying apprehension at the prospect of undermining Air

Force war-fighting methodology was a deep-seated mistrust of

the Soviets and complete lack of confidence in any agreement

that could be negotiated with them. Peace required effective

deterrence and effective deterrence required military superiority. In 1955, after consulting with the joint chiefs, Secretary of

Defense Charles Wilson advised President Eisenhower that,

“deterrence through armed strength is our best real hope for

peace.”47 He characterized mutual deterrence as a “fail-safe”

course of action for the United States: if the Soviet Union acted

in “bad faith,” the United States would not be any worse off; if

however the USSR cheated in an arms-control treaty, American

national security could be “irreparably damaged.”48 Statements

of this sort demonstrate the thinking in Air Force and other

35

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
senior defense circles that effective deterrence and arms control were to some degree mutually incompatible.

The issue of political settlement constituted the major source

of Air Force disagreement. Air Force leaders believed that

reductions in arms should only follow a resolution of the political tension between the Free World and the Communist Bloc.

As one JCS paper put it, “arms” did not “beget tension.” Rather,

“tensions” begat “arms.”49 Thus, any arms limitation agreements should be preceded by a political settlement. Otherwise,

a treaty would only be the basis for future tension as each side

accused the other of violating the agreement. In this way, the

arms limits could actually become destabilizing rather than

the hoped for stabilizing force.50 Air Force leaders and the JCS

also feared that the Soviets might gain an overwhelming advantage by seeking an agreement limiting nuclear weapons without concurrent cuts in conventional weapons.51

That specific example of suspecting Soviet motives about

disarmament agreements is illustrative of a more general trend

questioning any negotiation with Moscow. The joint chiefs

advised the president in 1954 that the Soviets would never

negotiate openly. They would, instead, seek their objective by,

“disregarding any accepted code of ethics or any conception of

honor in the conduct of negotiations or in the carrying out of

any agreements which might flow from them” (emphasis

added).52 This distrust was rooted in the often repeated sentiment that the Soviet goal was an unwavering one aimed at the

destruction of the West. “The objective of militant Communism

is plain to all but those who will not see. That objective is

world domination.”53

With such opinions being common, it is not surprising that

Twining advised President Eisenhower in 1960 that the

Soviets had “consistently sabotaged all efforts” towards armscontrol agreements and used negotiations as “propaganda

exercises.”54 He then advocated what was a cornerstone of the

Air Force position on arms control during this period—the

requirement for a strict inspection regime. Top Air Force and

JCS leadership cited interwar disarmament treaties that

lacked effective inspection regimes as damaging to the security of nations that abided by their strictures. They permitted

36

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
the rearmament of violators without allowing other nations the

time to react.55 Furthermore, the very nature of the Soviet

regime prevented an effective inspection program. The Iron

Curtain “would make a mockery of any inspection system

which might be devised and, if the record of past Soviet conduct with respect to solemn international agreements is a true

index, Soviet bad faith, evasion, and outright violation would

render any disarmament agreement sterile, except as a means

to advance Soviet objectives.”56 Even with advances in technology through 1960 including the U-2, senior military leaders such as Twining did not change their opinions markedly.

For him, it was less the Iron Curtain in any one form than the

Soviet “penchant for secrecy” that was a key obstacle to any

agreement.57 It was deemed critical that the inspection system

for any agreement be in place and tested before weapons

reductions took place. Any agreement would only be as strong

as the inspection regime supporting it.58

Interagency Distrust

Just as Air Force distrust of the Soviets shaped their view of

arms control, friction with new political leadership in the

Kennedy Administration’s Department of Defense added to a

general atmosphere of suspicion regarding arms-control initiatives. Under the Eisenhower Administration, both the secretary of defense and the president had, by and large, endorsed

Air Force views. Twining had made a special effort to establish

a smooth working relationship with Eisenhower as soon as

that administration took office. In mid-June 1953, the general

sought a personal meeting with the president to smooth over

some difficulties with the budget process that threatened to

jeopardize the chief of staff’s ability to “operate inside and not

outside the current administration.” The goal was to ensure

that “Air Force positions will be consistently and carefully considered by the Commander-in-Chief and the Defense

Department.”59

Efforts such as this resulted in close cooperation between

the Eisenhower Administration and the Air Force. This was

amply demonstrated in a 1956 meeting in the White House

with members of the joint chiefs, when Army Chief of Staff Gen

37

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
Maxwell Taylor asked the president to resolve an impasse over

the basis for future planning. The Air Force, Navy, and chairman of the joint chiefs all agreed that future planning must be

based on the use of atomic weapons. The services believed that

war plans should involve use of atomic weapons at the outset

without restriction—the Air Force’s counterforce/BRAVO

strikes. Further, they held that forces capable of carrying out

these strikes would be sufficient to deter limited war. Although

presented in the context of JCS views, they were consistent

with the Air Force positions at the time. General Taylor, on the

other hand, believed that this was incorrect. He found it dangerous, and if fully adopted he claimed it would eliminate “flexibility.” The resulting force structure would “freeze out” any

other kind of conventional forces.

Eisenhower came down firmly on the USAF side. He

responded that Taylor’s position was predicated on the

assumption that the Soviets were an enemy that valued human

life as much as the United States—a false assumption given

experience in the Second World War. Eisenhower did not see

any reason to believe that the Soviets would hold back from

using atomic weapons immediately and in full force. Therefore,

it was logical that the United States anchor planning for future

war on the basis of use of atomic weapons. Indeed, “prudence

would demand that we get our striking force into the air immediately upon notice of hostile action by the Soviets.”60

Furthermore, the president refused to tie down American

forces in wars around the Soviet periphery. Instead, we should

use our most efficient weapons—atomic weapons—to support

local conventional forces.61 All these points—the nature of the

Soviet enemy, the utility of nuclear weapons in general and

limited war, and the requirement to strike hard and fast at the

outbreak of war—were in accordance with the major Air Force

positions.

This cooperation dissolved with the Kennedy Administration.

Unlike the 1950s, the Air Force lost its special influence with the

president. An early indicator of the changing times occurred

when Kennedy walked out of the Air Force’s introductory “Net

Evaluation” briefing summarizing the Soviet threat.62 Robert S.

McNamara institutionalized the new separation between the Air

38

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Force and higher leadership through the practice of placing a

buffer of civilians between the chief of staff and the secretary of

defense. To LeMay’s great annoyance, McNamara’s office worked

directly with action officers rather than using the chain of command, thereby sidestepping the chief of staff. This tendency,

added to the routine practice of setting short deadlines, kept the

Air Force leadership off balance.63

One example of the fundamental difficulties encountered by

the new administration was in the acquisition of new manned

bombers—a matter essential to the continued future viability

of the Air Force war-fighting strategy. The supersonic followon to the B-52, the B-70 Valkyrie, became an early McNamara

target. He claimed that the aircraft would be vulnerable in the

air to surface-to-air missiles, vulnerable on the ground to a

first strike, would have to be launched immediately on warning of a suspected attack to ensure survival, and would be too

slow for effective counterforce. By comparison, the new intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBM) were cheaper, faster, and

less vulnerable. When McNamara subsequently cancelled the

B-70 program, LeMay went directly and successfully to

Congress for restoration of the funds. An infuriated McNamara

refused to spend the money. The Air Force’s fear that ICBMs

were a questionable new technology that had limited accuracy

and a high price tag led it to propose a compromise program

of air-launched missiles—Skybolt. McNamara cancelled the

Skybolt in 1962.64 In 1963, McNamara urged renewal of

LeMay’s term as chief of staff for only one year rather than the

customary two.65

The primary complaint raised by LeMay was McNamara’s

discounting of military expertise. An embittered LeMay later

remarked that McNamara’s attitude seemed to be “Get out of

our way. We think nothing of you or your opinions.”66 Other

Air Force leaders shared LeMay’s view. Gen Howell Estes

thought the McNamara whiz-kids were “fuzz-cheeked PhDs

that didn’t know the first thing in the world about the military.”67 General White believed they were “arrogant young professors” who lacked the worldliness and motivation to stand

up to the Soviets.68 Gen Lauris Norstad, the commander of the

North Atlantic Treaty Organization and considered one of the

39

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
Air Force’s most intellectual generals during this period, also

experienced tension with McNamara. In a post-retirement

interview he expressed similar beliefs to others held by Air

Force officers. “I think they thought they created the Earth

and everything in it. Well, they were just patronizing as hell.

They thought they were the horn with all knowledge. . . . Every

new administration brings in with it young, brilliant, eager,

and ignorant people. The only difference in the Kennedy

Administration was that they were younger, more eager, possibly more brilliant, but also clearly more ignorant.”69

The Air Force Versus Arms Control

One area in which LeMay believed his military expertise

should count most was defining what constituted an effective

and stable deterrent—one poised to win if deterrence failed.

LeMay referred to the idea of arms limitations bringing about

stability as “inverted strategy” and dubbed McNamara the

“high priest” of its “cult.”70 He charged that these arms controllers would prefer “surrender to general war.”71 One of

LeMay’s appointees, Lt Gen Fred Dean, the bureau chief of the

military division of the Arms Control and Disarmament

Agency, stated

I questioned the motivation of the people working in that business. In

military terms, I would say, they considered that their effectiveness

reports should be determined more by the agreements they got on disarmament rather than on furthering the cause of the nation. . . . We

as a nation are committed nationally and internationally to arms control. The question is how to do it, how to have some form of arms control without doing it unilaterally, without lessening our relative

strength and whatnot. The military, of course, looks at that one way,

and people, not defense minded, look at it another. I felt that the

defense posture was being cheated. The point of view that would keep

our defense posture where it was safe and where it was relatively

strong was being disregarded. I might as well have not been there for

the influence I had.72

To attain these objectives, LeMay alleged that McNamara

had actively deceived the American public about the threat

posed by the Soviet Union. For example, when McNamara

counted the number of intercontinental bombers, LeMay

claimed he ignored the threat of intermediate-range refuelable

40

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
aircraft or those capable of one-way missions. The general did

not put such tactics beyond the Soviets, who had shown such

callous disregard for life before.73 He believed that such a

deception was a calculated attempt by McNamara to push forward his agenda for arms control while squelching military

opposition.

Test Ban Treaties

Distrust of McNamara and of his arms-control proposals

was sorely tested by the debate over the Limited Test Ban

Treaty of 1963. Air Force leadership opposed this agreement

using the arguments they had developed over the 1950s, and

it serves as a demonstration of their views. The Air Force belief

that only military superiority provided an adequate deterrent

would be challenged by this agreement through its potential

stifling of technological advancement. As far as USAF leaders

were concerned, restricted testing translated into loss of a

technological edge, and—potentially—a dangerously ineffective deterrent.

Hopes to achieve a test ban treaty were evident long before

the actual August 1963 signing. Fear of fallout spiked due to

the much-publicized incident of an accidentally irradiated

Japanese fishing vessel by the 1954 Castle Bravo test. This

drove the beginnings of talks on limiting aboveground tests

the following year. The first real breakthrough toward test limitation came with the mutually agreed but unsigned 1958

moratorium on testing in any environment. The following

three years of negotiations stalled primarily on the verification

issue, with the West insisting on on-site inspection. The moratorium came to a disappointing end when the Soviets resumed

tests on 30 August 1961 without prior notification. Notably,

Moscow tested three weapons in one week, including one with

a yield of 58 megatons.74

The number and size of the tests indicated ample prior

preparation—and to Air Force leaders reinforced their perception that the Soviet Union could not be trusted. Twining later

stated that he had advocated against the informal moratorium

from the beginning. At the National Security Council meeting

where Eisenhower announced his intention to go along with

41

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
the Soviet proposal, Twining summarized his opposition based

on mistrust of the Soviets and lack of verification by telling

Eisenhower “This is going to be the saddest day of your life.

This is a bad mistake.”75 In the ensuing discussion, Twining

emphasized that the United States would likely lose all its

capability to test weapons as the infrastructure withered and

personnel moved on. When the Soviets ended the moratorium,

Twining lamented the loss of three years of “technology time”

that the United States couldn’t make up. 76

Despite this sentiment, the United States rebuilt its enfeebled testing infrastructure and launched several comprehensive series of tests centered on developing an antiballistic missile, ensuring the survivability of missiles and warheads

against a Soviet attack, and their ability to penetrate Soviet

defenses. The United States also acquired more general knowledge on the effect of nuclear explosions on contemporary technology such as radars, communications, and hardened silos.

The test ban issue received renewed attention in 1962 following the Cuban Missile Crisis. President Kennedy decided to

resume seeking a test ban treaty as a way to reduce tensions.

He saw the period immediately following the crisis as a limited

window of opportunity during which an acceptable treaty

might be negotiated. On 8 June 1963, Premier Nikita S.

Khruschev sent word to Kennedy that he would be willing to

resume negotiations in Moscow the next month.77 Secretary of

State Dean Rusk, British foreign minister Lord Alec D. Home,

and Soviet foreign minister Andrei Gromyko signed the agreement on 5 August 1963 after only 10 days of negotiations.78

The treaty itself was relatively simple compared to later

agreements like SALT I or START. Its provisions were correspondingly straightforward. It disallowed testing in the three

environments of water, air, or space. Underground trials could

continue as long as the radioactive debris did not leave the territorial limits of the testing nation.79

Although the provisions were relatively few, the expectations

for the treaty were comparatively high. Rusk, testifying about

the treaty before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, outlined three areas where he stated the United States would

benefit. First, the treaty would reduce tensions. Successful

42

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
adoption of the treaty would “constitute a significant step in

the direction of slackening the pace of the arms race.”80 Second,

adoption of the treaty would provide a military advantage.

According to Rusk, the US lead in low- and medium-yield

weapons would be protected while the US lag in high-yield

weapons brought about by the recent Soviet violation of the

moratorium was inconsequential because there was no military requirement for such weapons. Since there was an overall balance militarily, it was a good time to put a test ban into

effect. Finally, the treaty would provide an important political

gain because it would set a precedent. Assuming the treaty

provisions could be implemented without any embarrassment

to the Soviets or with the Soviets perceiving a disadvantage,

then it was more likely that future agreements could be signed.81

The limited test ban would hold other important nonbilateral

benefits for the United States. Specifically, it would act as an

instrument against proliferation. If borderline nuclear states

could be encouraged to sign on, that would be an important

gain. Further, the possible future agreements that Rusk foresaw the test ban making possible included specific nonproliferation measures such as the banning of technology transfer

or halting the future production of fissionable material.82 The

second nonbilateral advantage was the one that lay at the origin of the test ban movement—reduced fallout.83

Despite these alleged advantages, Air Force leaders together

with the JCS opposed ratification of the treaty. This opposition

was grounded in the arguments outlined above. The generalized friction with McNamara and the administration reared its

head from the very beginning. Rusk went to Moscow in August

and negotiated and then signed the treaty without any military

advisors present. When questioned by the Senate on whether

the joint chiefs had been consulted in the writing of the treaty,

LeMay responded that the president had consulted each chief

individually—once—and then—once—collectively. McNamara

had not even met with them at all.84

During his first appearance before the Congress, LeMay discussed why he and the JCS believed the treaty was not “consistent with the national security.”85 He said two things were

required for the maintenance of military superiority: continued

43

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
expansion of the understanding of weapons effects and the

development and application of new weapon techniques. Thus,

LeMay began his argument against the treaty with the assumption that effective deterrence required military superiority as

opposed to parity, minimum deterrence, or any of the other

recent developments in strategic thought. LeMay’s specific

objections to ratification flowed from this general premise.

The general claimed that US testing capability was bound to

deteriorate rapidly and pointed to the 1958–61 moratorium as

evidence. Moreover, that experience also showed that the

Soviets were capable of maintaining their capacity to resume

testing rapidly if they chose. Those tests they conducted after

their abrupt resumption in 1961 could have given them

important leads in very high-yield weapons and ballistic missile defense. Although overdesign of American silos and defensive systems could counter some of these advances, certainty

was impossible without testing.86

Furthermore, LeMay claimed, it would be impossible for the

United States to catch up to the Soviet lead in high-yield

weapons if the test ban went forward. He contradicted Rusk’s

earlier statement by asserting a military need for such devices.

In a more general sense, “limited numbers of very high yield

weapons would contribute measurably to deterrence in a manner which the Soviets would understand and respect.” This

reinforced the notion that the Soviets only respected superior

force. More specifically, high-yield weapons would be useful

against hardened targets and also would provide a psychological edge.87

LeMay went on to disparage the underlying motivation

behind the test ban movement, the fear of fallout. He claimed

that the fallout from all tests performed through December

1962 was only one-twentieth of the normally occurring background radiation and consequently was not a realistic health

threat. The fallout threat had been played up in the public

mind through “cartoons, propaganda, half-truths, and misinformation.”88 To him, a Soviet Union with nuclear superiority

was far more dangerous to American security than fallout.

Finally, LeMay emphasized that the Soviets had not changed

and could not be trusted to stay within the treaty’s limitations.

44

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
When Sen. Strom Thurmond asked whether the Soviet goal of

“world domination and enslavement” had changed, LeMay

responded that it had not.89 When further questioned about

likely Soviet actions if the treaty were signed, he stated simply,

“I think they would cheat.”90

LeMay summarized his position by stating, “In the current

world environment, preserving peace means maintaining preponderant military power. To maintain a favorable balance of

military power we must have nuclear superiority. To do this I

firmly believe we must continue our nuclear weapon development programs and be able to conduct nuclear testing as

required.”91 This opinion, grounded in a firm belief in the need

for nuclear superiority and a grave mistrust of the Soviet

Union, was a clear and consistent outgrowth of Air Force positions on effective deterrence stemming from the 1950s.

A Reversal on Test Bans

What happened next is somewhat unclear. LeMay appeared

before the same committee a month later, but had apparently

modified his opinion. Twining later speculated about the shift in

LeMay’s and the JCS’s position “they didn’t want to sign, any of

them, oh no, but the pressure was on them and on them, and

finally, this was an out, I guess—‘political considerations are

overriding.’”92 In other words, their military opinion and expertise were overridden by McNamara’s political requirements.

Despite this change, LeMay had not entirely changed his

views. Although he and the joint chiefs were now in favor of the

treaty, that support was contingent on four conditions. The

United States must continue a vigorous underground testing

program, maintain national labs for continued scientific

research, make preparations to ensure speedy resumption of

atmospheric testing, and vigorously develop “national technical

means” to verify Soviet compliance.93 If, and only if, the United

States met these requirements could the political benefits of the

treaty be considered to outweigh the military risks.

Even if Chief of Staff LeMay reluctantly agreed to the treaty,

SAC commander Gen Thomas Power did not. In his testimony

before the same committee, he reiterated most of LeMay’s earlier objections. Power also started from the belief that military

45

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
superiority was the key to deterrence. In contrast to the new

JCS position, he had “little confidence that we can and will

maintain that military superiority under the test ban treaty

than . . . under a condition in which we do not have a test ban

treaty.”94 America’s current military superiority would be endangered by the treaty because of a number of unknowns that

could only be adequately answered through testing. Specifically,

he wanted to test high-yield weapons and perform a full test

(including nuclear detonation) with an ICBM reentry vehicle.95

Like LeMay, he also believed the Soviets had not changed their

basic unreliability. For example he believed that, even if the

Soviets kept within the stated boundaries of the treaty, they

could still arrange to conduct tests in the People’s Republic of

China.96 Ultimately, Power stated that, “We have had overwhelming superiority, and whenever somebody examined the

feasibility of attacking the United States, they immediately

had to reject it because it was ridiculous. I think that is a

sound position to hold if you can.”97

Both LeMay and Power assumed positions consistent with

Air Force policy developed over the previous decade. A test ban

without adequate verification would jeopardize the technological edge required for a superior deterrent. Against an implacable and demonstrated untrustworthy Soviet opponent, the

American deterrent, and hence national security, would be in

grave jeopardy.

Conclusion

Fewer than 10 years later, the Air Force took a decidedly

more engaged role in the Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty

negotiations. What led to that change? Most importantly, Air

Force leadership had passed from the senior World War II

bomber generals to more junior—and more flexible—leaders.

Whether they embraced—or were simply resigned to—arms

control is less relevant than the fact that they cooperated with

the new initiatives. Changing personalities were matched by a

changing strategic balance. The American quantitative lead in

1963 had eroded to rough parity by 1972. Even had the

Twinings and LeMays still held sway over the Air Force, there

was no longer a superiority to maintain. Finally, and perhaps

46

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
in the end most stabilizing, maturing reconnaissance technology provided reliable means of verifying Soviet compliance to a

degree not remotely possible in the 1950s.

Nonetheless, Air Force resistance to arms control and disarmament in the 1950s and early 1960s took place in a decidedly more threatening and uncertain world than that of

détente a decade later. The first steps toward stabilizing the

arms race had to be taken in a dark environment where only

an enemy perceived to be inherently untrustworthy had, in the

minds of the Air Force’s senior leadership, only been held back

by the overwhelming force of Strategic Air Command. They

firmly believed that maintaining that force was the only way to

keep the Free World intact. As Power said before the Senate

Armed Services Committee, “the surest way to cause a war,

nuclear war or any war, is to disarm.”98

Notes

1. Many thanks are due for the aid I received on this paper. Dr. Michael

Wheeler was an immense help in refining my argument and in pointing toward

valuable sources. Dr. Roger Lerseth, Dr. David Snead, Lt Col John Shaw, Lt

Col John Farquhar, Capt Grant Weller, and Mr. David Walker all provided

excellent comments on both style and substance. The staff of the Eisenhower

Library were vital in ensuring a short trip became a valuable one as well.

2. Meeting with representatives of HQ AF/XONP, 15 March 2001.

3. Wesley W. Posvar, “The Process of Long Range Planning,” presentation

to the RAND Corporation directors, 17 May 1955. See Record Group (RG)

341, National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), College Park,

Md., 3. Hereinafter cited as RG 341, NARA.

4. Col Mike Worden, Rise of the Fighter Generals: The Problem of Air Force

Leadership, 1945–1982 (Maxwell Air Force Base, Ala.: Air University Press,

1998), 1.

5. Ibid., 11–12.

6. Richard Smoke, National Security and the Nuclear Dilemma, 3d ed.

(New York: McGraw-Hill, 1993), 129. 

7. “Memorandum for the President, The Proposed Small United Nations

‘Atoms for Police’ Force,” 16 July 1956, in Disarmament, vol. 1, Subject

Series, Alpha Subseries, Box 11, Office of the Special Assistant to the

President (hereinafter cited as OSSAN), Eisenhower Library, Abilene, Kans.

8. Smoke, 130.

9. Ibid., 136–37.

10. Ibid., 139.

11. Ibid., 145.

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PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
12. Air Force Manual (AFMAN) 1-8, Air Doctrine: Strategic Air Operations,

1 May 1954, 7.

13. Ibid., 5.

14. “Statement of Air Force Tasks,” Chief of Staff Decision, 6 November

1962, RG 341, NARA, 1.

15. David Kunsman and Douglas Lawson, A Primer on U.S. Nuclear

Strategy (Albuquerque, N.Mex.: Sandia National Laboratories, 2001), 105.

16. “Air Power in Future Conflicts,” RG 341, NARA, 13.

17. “Objectives and Problems of the Plans Directorate: A Presentation to

Selected Members of the CIA and Guests,” RG 341, NARA.

18. “Classen Committee Study: A Presentation to Logistic Planners

Conference,” 6–7 October 1954, RG 341, NARA.

19. Ibid., 9.

20. “The Nature of Future Warfare,” 17 September 1954, RG 341, NARA.

21. “Presentation at the 1955 Secretaries’ Conference by General Nathan

F. Twining, Chief of Staff USAF, HQ USAF, 16 July 1955,” RG 341, NARA, 16.

22. “A National Military Policy,” AF/XPD, in Subject Series, Air Force

1960, Alphabetic Subseries, Box 2, OSSAN, Eisenhower Library.

23. “Presentation by Colonel J. L. Dickman to the directors of the RAND

Corporation,” RG 341, NARA, 10.

24. Gen Richard C. Lindsay, “Air Power in Future Conflicts,” presentation, RG 341, NARA, 22.

25. NARA, RG 341, “Briefing by Major General Lindsay to Deputy

Secretary of Defense Anderson on Air Force Concepts,” 3–4.

26. Twining, Secretary’s Briefing, 6.

27. Conrad Crane, American Airpower Strategy in Korea: 1950–1953

(Lawrence, Kans.: University of Kansas Press, 2000), 85–90.

28. “Meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff with Mr. Coolidge, Special

Advisor for Disarmament Policy Review,” 21 December 1959, JCS

1731/326, RG 218, NARA, 2935.

29. Joint Chiefs of Staff, memorandum to the Secretary of Defense, subject: “Progress Report on the Control of Armaments by the Special Assistant

to the President on Disarmament,” in Disarmament, vol. 1 (5), Subject Series,

Alphabetic Subseries, Box 11, OSSAN, Eisenhower Library, 26 June 1955.

30. Memorandum for Deputy Chief of Staff/Development, subject:

“(Restricted) Satellite Vehicles,” RG 341, NARA, 18 December 1952, 1.

31. Chief of Staff (I), “NWC and ICAF Lecture,” Norstad Papers, Box 98,

Eisenhower Library, 12 December 1961, 13.

32. “USAF Space Required Operational Capabilities,” RG 341, NARA, 16

September 1960, 1–2.

33. “Review of USAF Space Plan,” RG 341, NARA, September 1961, 5–6.

34. “Remarks by Lt Gen F. F. Everest, Deputy Chief of Staff, Operations,

to the Commanders Conference on ‘USAF Force Structure and Program

Objectives 1957–1965,’” RG 341, NARA, 17 January 1955, 3.

48

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
35. “The Fallacy of the Concept of Minimum Deterrence,” AFXPD/LR,

Brig Gen R. C. Richardson Papers, 168.7010-1 through 44, Air Force

Historical Research Agency, undated.

36. Ibid.

37. Ibid., 4.

38. Ibid., 5.

39. Ibid., 6.

40. Ibid., 7.

41. Ibid., 12.

42. Air Force Historical Research Agency (AFHRA), Brig Gen R. C.

Richardson Papers, 168.7010-1 through 44, “An Analysis of the Fallacy of

the Concept of Graduated Deterrence,” 29 March 1962, AFXPD/LR.

43. Ibid.

44. Richardson, “Minimum Deterrent,” 4.

45. Ibid., 5.

46. AFHRA, Brig Gen R. C. Richardson Papers, 168.7010-1 through 44,

“On Counterforce,” 1 December 1960, AFXPD/LR, 5–6.

47. Eisenhower Library, “Progress Report,” 26 May 1955, 5–8.

48. Ibid.

49. NARA, JCS 1731/256, 2936.

50. Eisenhower Library, “Progress Report,” 3–4.

51. NARA, JCS 1731/256, 2935.

52. Joint Chiefs of Staff, memorandum to the Secretary of Defense, subject: “Negotiations with the Soviet Bloc,” Eisenhower Library, Ann Whitman

File, Administrative Series, A-75-22, Box 23, JCS Folder, 23 June 1954, 4.

53. NARA, RG 341, “Air Power in Future Conflicts,” 5.

54. Eisenhower Library, Ann Whitman File, Administrative Series, 75-22,

Box 37, Twining Folder, “Arms Control Proposals and Your Speech at the

United Nations 22 September 1960,” 15 September 1960, 3.

55. Eisenhower Library, OSSAN, “Progress Report,” 3.

56. Eisenhower Library, Ann Whitman File, “Negotiations,” 4.

57. Eisenhower Library, Ann Whitman File, “Arms Control Proposals,” 2. 

58. Eisenhower Library, OSSAN, Title illegible, 4.

59. Eisenhower Library, Norstad Papers, Box 41, Eyes Only—Folder 28,

Memorandum for General Burns, 25 June 1953.

60. Eisenhower Library, Ann Whitman Series, DDE Diary, Box 15, May

1956, Goodpaster, Memorandum of Conference with the President, 24 May

1956, 10:30 A.M.

61. Ibid.

62. Worden, 112.

63. Ibid., 112–13.

64. Ibid., 121.

65. Ibid., 135.

66. Ibid., 148.

67. Ibid., 116.

68. Ibid., 115.

49

PEACE THROUGH STRENGTH ALONE
69. Eisenhower Library, Norstad Papers, Box 142, US Air Force Oral

History, Gen Lauris Norstad, part 2, 312–13.

70. Curtis LeMay, America Is in Danger (New York: Funk and Wagnall,

1968), 276.

71. Ibid., 277.

72. AFHRA, USAF Oral History Interview, K239.0512-834, Lt Gen Fred

Dean, 25 February 1975, 256–57.

73. Ibid., 288–90.

74. Albert Carnesale and Richard Haas, Superpower Arms Control:

Setting the Record Straight (Cambridge: Ballinger, 1987), 9–11.

75. Eisenhower Library, Oral Interview with Gen Nathan F. Twining by John

T. Mason, #4 of 4, Columbia University Oral History Project, OH-274, 236–37.

76. Ibid., 237–38.

77. Carnesale, 12–13.

78. Ibid., 9.

79. Smoke, 136.

80. Senate, Committee on Foreign Relations, Test Ban Negotiations and

Disarmament (Y4.f76/2:t28), 11 March 1963, 3.

81. Ibid., 4–5.

82. Ibid.

83. Ibid.

84. Senate, Committee on Armed Services, Military Aspects and Implications

of Nuclear Test Ban Proposals and Related Matters, (Y4.Ar5/3:N88/pt2), 734.

85. Y4.Ar5/3:N88/pt1, 352.

86. Ibid., 353.

87. Ibid., 355.

88. Ibid., 356.

89. Ibid., 378.

90. Ibid.

91. Ibid., 356.

92. Twining, “Oral,” 239.

93. Carnesale, 28.

94. Y4.Ar5/3:N88/pt2, 779.

95. Ibid., 781.

96. Ibid., 796.

97. Ibid., 788.

98. Ibid., 810.

50

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
PART II

Strategic Arms Limitations, 1969–80

Chapter 3

The Road to SALT

Anne G. Campbell

The period from 1969 to 1980 marked a new era of détente

between the Soviet Union and the United States, with the

negotiation of offensive and defensive arms limitations. The

Interim Agreement on the Limitation of Offensive Strategic

Weapons (SALT I) and the Antiballistic Missile (ABM) treaties

signed by President Nixon and ratified in 1972, as well as the

SALT II treaty that was signed by President Jimmy Carter in

1979 but never ratified, ushered in a period of bilateral negotiations as a diplomatic means of enhancing both countries’

national security at a time when tensions were high, when

there were conflicts of interests, and outright armed conflict

between proxies of the two nations across the globe. The motivations for SALT were complex, and for the United States varied a great deal amongst the various political actors and

bureaucracies. However, it is clear that the massive Soviet

buildup of the 1960s brought the two nations to a situation

where there was for all practical purposes parity in strategic

nuclear weapons, and the United States sought to enhance

strategic stability to prevent an all-out nuclear war, as well as

to lower the costs associated with preparing for war.

Certainly there were a number of significant bilateral and

multilateral negotiations between the United States and the

USSR during this period, and between the North Atlantic Treaty

Organization (NATO) and Warsaw Pact communities. The

Biological Weapons Convention (BWC) of 1972, the Threshold

Test Ban Treaty (TTBT) of 1974, and the Peaceful Nuclear

Explosions Treaty (PNET) of 1976 resulted in important limitations on biological and nuclear weapons and weapons testing. In addition, negotiations began on conventional forces,

including the Council on Security and Cooperation in Europe

and on Mutual Balanced Force Reductions by NATO and the

53
Warsaw Pact. However, the focus during this period was on

bilateral negotiations between the United States and the Soviet

Union. Hence, this chapter focuses on the SALT and ABM

negotiations that were the centerpiece of strategic arms control

during the period from 1968 to 1980. It delves into the dynamics of the US interagency process through a detailed analysis of

the negotiation process between the two countries, as well as

amongst the US agencies. This chapter pays particular attention to the Department of Defense (DOD) strategies, positions,

and influence during the arms talks, and concludes with comments on the implications of the SALT and ABM agreements.

SALT I and ABM Treaties (1969–72)

In 1968 at the ceremonial signing of the Nonproliferation

Treaty, the United States and the USSR announced their intent

to begin bilateral strategic arms limitations talks. The impetus

for talks was twofold. First, the Soviet buildup of strategic

weapons had led to a situation of nuclear parity between the

two great powers. The two sides felt “a mutual need to solemnize the parity principle . . . to establish an acceptance by each

side of the other’s ability to inflict unacceptable retribution in

response to a nuclear attack.”1 Second, as Johnson had noted

publicly in January 1967, the Soviets had begun construction

of a limited antimissile defense around Moscow, to which his

administration reluctantly responded by announcing in

September that the United States intended to deploy the

Sentinel light ABM system, although officially it was a defense

against the emerging Chinese ballistic missile threat.2 It was

apparent that, without some form of negotiated limitations, both

the Soviets and the Americans would confront the real potential for an offensive and defensive arms race. However, the

Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in August 1968 and Richard

Nixon’s election that November delayed the beginning of talks.

The focus of arms control shifted under the Nixon

Administration. Nixon and his national security advisor, Henry

Kissinger, saw arms control as a political tool to be used to

open an “era of negotiation” with the Soviet Union, as well as

to win points with the American public.3 Although the Soviets

contacted Nixon on the day of his inauguration in January

54

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
1969, indicating their interest in beginning strategic arms limitations talks, Nixon and Kissinger deferred any decision for

several months during which the National Security Council led

a review of US strategic nuclear forces and doctrine.4 The delay

was certainly warranted as the new president confronted a

complex set of national security concerns. Secretary of Defense

Melvin Laird noted, “The first major task before us was

Vietnam—a war with no end in sight.”5 Writing at the end of

his term in 1973, he noted that Vietnam had overshadowed

other national security challenges and an environment that

was dominated by four realities.

The strategic reality of growing Soviet momentum across the broad

spectrum of military strength taking them from a position of clear inferiority in the early 1960’s to virtual strategic nuclear parity [in 1973].

The fiscal reality involving not only the heavy pressure in Congress for

reduced defense spending, but upward pressures of inflation on the

cost of everything we need to maintain adequate military forces. The

manpower reality, reflecting little understood people costs. . . . It cost

us in FY 1973 [with the end of the draft] some $230 billion more than

it did in 1964 for some 133,000 fewer people. The political reality, complicating severely the other three realities from the standpoint of: the

political and psychological effects of Soviet policy and growing presence around the world, such as in the Mediterranean and the Middle

East; pressures from our allies to maintain forward deployed United

States forces; congressional pressures to reduce those forces; or gaining broad political support here at home for doing all the things we

have to do to assure our national security interests while continuing to

reorder our national priorities (emphasis in original).6

By any standard the strategic environment that Nixon faced

from 1969 to 1972 was a challenging one. Internationally, the

Soviet Union was now the equal of the United States in terms

of nuclear weapons, and Moscow’s conventional forces and the

proxies it armed were increasingly active around the globe. US

relations with its NATO allies were somewhat strained as West

Germany’s policy of Ostpolitik challenged US control over EastWest relations. China was emerging as a potential nuclear

threat. Above all, the United States had 550,000 troops mired

in Vietnam, and there were no signs of victory on the horizon.

At the same time, domestically the opposition to the Vietnam

War led to a credibility gap of the military, and there were calls

for the end of the draft. Budget deficits, inflation, and an

55

THE ROAD TO SALT
unpopular war were leading Congress to call for unilateral cuts

in US troops in Europe, and cuts in the overall defense budget.

The first year of the Nixon Administration was used to review

these and other challenges. The Nixon Doctrine and the implementing strategy of realistic deterrence that resulted from that

review set forth a new direction for US foreign policy and a new

national security strategy. Seeking to reconcile the increasing

international challenges with decreasing domestic support and

resources, Nixon’s aim was to “seek world stability through a

more equitable sharing of the responsibilities for deterrence with

our allies.”7 It sought “peace through partnership with our allies”

with increased foreign assistance and decreased emphasis on

the use of US troops, and promised a nuclear shield “for any

nation whose survival we judge to be vital to our own security,” while “harmonizing” doctrine and capability with a 11

⁄2

war strategy “adequate for simultaneously meeting a major

Communist attack in either Europe or Asia, assisting Allies

against non-Chinese threats in Asia, and contending with a

contingency elsewhere.”8 Laird noted that the new strategy

also included “a willingness to negotiate” in an attempt to seek

strategic “sufficiency through mutual agreement and restraint

rather than through unbounded competition.”9

Ultimately, arms-control negotiations made sense for many

reasons, not the least of those being the DOD’s assessment of

the continuing rapid expansion of Soviet strategic offensive

capabilities. A brief look at the balance of US and Soviet strategic forces, as covered in the 1971 Secretary of Defense’s report

to Congress is instructive.10 He noted that the Soviets had

1,110 intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) launchers to

the US’s 1,054, with more than 275 launchers for the large

SS-9, and a projection of over 1,250 operational ICBMs on

launchers by mid-1970—compared to 250 ICBM launchers in

1966. The United States had 41 Polaris submarines; the

Soviets were projected to have from 35 to 50 equivalent “Y”

Class submarines by 1974–75. Only in the heavy bomber leg

of the triad would the United States hold an advantage for the

foreseeable future—about 200 for the USSR, over 500 for the

United States. Furthermore, the Soviets were proceeding with

their Moscow-based ABM system.

56

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
It was not surprising, given the strategic environment and

the domestic support for arms limitations, that Nixon and

Kissinger decided in June 1969 to proceed on arms-control

talks with the Soviets, and after a few months of Soviet delay,

preliminary talks began in Vienna in November 1969.

US and Soviet Objectives for SALT I/ABM Negotiations

It is not an easy task to state decisively what the objectives

of the two sides were going into negotiations. First, the Soviet

system precluded a clear insight into the motivations of the

Soviet leadership. Second, even on the American side, there were

numerous, and sometimes conflicting, objectives held by the various bureaucracies and their chief participants in the frontline

and behind-the-scenes aspects of the negotiations. The following discussion attempts to present the broad objectives of both.

The tensions amongst the different US agencies about the objectives of SALT are discussed later under interagency debates

during the negotiations.11

Nixon’s handwritten notes on the cover of a recently declassified Top Secret Sentinel ABM system memo from March 1969

show that he was greatly concerned about the continued Soviet

offensive strategic buildup. He wrote: “1) They have closed the

gap; 2) They continue to increase; 3) They want to talk; 4) We

must see that the gap is not widened on other side.”12 Nixon

saw SALT as a means to address his concerns. In his memoir

The Real War, President Nixon laid out his three primary goals

for SALT in 1969. First, he saw long-term, equitable armscontrol limitations agreements as a means to enhancing

strategic stability with lower arms expenditures. He noted that

Congress was not receptive to increasing strategic force expenditures, as evidenced by the Senate’s passage of the Safeguard

ABM program by one vote. Second, Nixon saw SALT as a

means of buying time, while testing the Soviets’ intentions

regarding arms limitations; if they showed themselves not to

be serious, that would provide him with evidence he could use

to get congressional support for boosting strategic programs.

Third, he saw the possibility of moderating the Soviet buildup

and of a new era of improved relations, characterized by cooperation and negotiation rather than conflict—essentially a

57

THE ROAD TO SALT
period of détente, rather than of military competition. However,

by 1971 he had lowered his goals for SALT due to the Soviet’s

continued strategic buildup. At that time he focused on obtaining offensive limitations that would halt the growth of Soviet

ICBM launchers.13

A crucial aspect of Nixon’s (and Kissinger’s) approach was

the linkage of political and military issues, as well as the linkage between US-Soviet relations in different parts of the world.

Kissinger quotes a Nixon memo (that Kissinger himself had

drafted) in his White House Years memoir.

I am convinced that the great issues are fundamentally interrelated. I

do not mean this to establish artificial linkages between specific elements of one or another issue or between tactical steps that we may

elect to take. But I do believe that crisis or confrontation in one place

and real cooperation in another cannot long be sustained simultaneously. . . . I believe that the Soviet leaders should be brought to understand that they cannot expect to reap the benefits of cooperation in one

area while seeking to take advantage of tension or confrontation elsewhere.14

Nixon and Kissinger were determined that the Soviets would

not get a SALT agreement without some consideration on other

issues of import to the United States. In particular, Nixon and

Kissinger were interested in achieving Soviet cooperation on

Vietnam in return for US participation in arms-control negotiations.15 This would provide a bonus for Nixon’s domestic political popularity as well, helping to soften Nixon’s image as a

“warmonger.”16

The Soviet leaders’ objectives for SALT were much less readily discernible. In fact it was only during the first round of preliminary talks, five weeks in Helsinki in November and

December 1969, that the Americans got a sense of the Soviets’

major objectives. The State Department’s executive officer for

the SALT delegation, Raymond Garthoff, noted the surprise of

the American team at that first set of meetings when the

Soviets indicated their desire to limit ABM deployments geographically and numerically—not excluding the possibility of a

complete ban on ABMs.17 The ABM proposal was significant

because it heralded a change of Soviet doctrine, indicating

their acceptance of the logic of mutually assured destruction

that recognized defensive forces as a potential threat to peace.18

58

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
A second Soviet objective was to include all weapons capable

of nuclear attack on the territories of the Soviet Union and the

United States in the strategic offensive arms talks, that is

NATO forward-based systems (FBS). A noteworthy omission

was the issue of multiple independently targeted reentry vehicle (MIRV) limitations, although Garthoff noted that in later

informal discussions the Soviets indicated surprise that the

Americans had not brought up the issue of MIRVs.19

In his book, chief SALT negotiator Gerard Smith attributed

additional political and security-related motivations to the

Soviets’ interest in negotiations. First, the Soviets wanted to be

formally recognized as a strategic equal, and hence a political

equal. That is corroborated by a Soviet commentator who said

that the recognition of parity between the United States and

the Soviets was “the very essence” of the SALT agreements.20

Second, like the United States, the USSR was interested in

diverting resources from military spending to civilian needs,

and hence wanted to avoid a strategic arms race. Lastly, Smith

believed that the Soviets saw China as the biggest security

threat and they wanted to free up resources and energy to

focus on that threat on their eastern front.21 In addition,

although Smith did not discuss it, some thought the Soviets

wanted to use SALT to drive a wedge between the United

States and its NATO allies.22

SALT I/ABM: Interagency Negotiations

To understand how the SALT I and ABM treaties were negotiated, it is essential to understand the negotiating process—

the two separate channels in which negotiations took place—

and the extraordinary influence that one man, Henry Kissinger,

exercised in those negotiations. In fact, Nixon saw to it that

Kissinger exercised unprecedented authority over the entire

national security policy-making apparatus. As the president’s

national security advisor, Kissinger directed government

agencies—such as State, Defense, Central Intelligence Agency

(CIA), and Arms Control and Disarmament Agency (ACDA)—to

prepare studies on various policy proposals. Kissinger chaired

the National Security Council (NSC), and the NSC Review

Group that gave him the authority to approve departmental

59

THE ROAD TO SALT
proposals before they reached the president. Kissinger also

chaired the Verification Panel that had direct responsibility for

all SALT issues.23 As Kissinger put it to Soviet Ambassador

Anatoly F. Dobrynin, “Only two people can answer precisely at

any given moment the position of the USA on this or that

question: these are President Nixon and Kissinger.”24

It is important to recognize that while Kissinger exercised an

inordinate amount of influence on the SALT negotiations, he

was still constrained by the realities of domestic politics. The

congressional push for defense spending cuts, its opposition

to certain programs and support of others, and its clamor for

some type of arms-control agreement, as well as the views of

different executive agencies certainly limited what the United

States could propose in negotiations—and the Soviets knew

that. In particular, Kissinger makes it clear in his analysis of

the negotiations that the views and concerns of the military,

the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) and the Department of Defense

(DOD), were paramount in his development and analysis of

various negotiation proposals.25 If the joint chiefs spoke out

against the ratification of any SALT treaty, it would never

make it through the Senate. When Secretary of Defense Laird

advocated continuing the development of ABM technology in

case of “treaty breakout” by the Soviets, there were obviously

going to be limits on what Kissinger could negotiate.26

Finally, it should be recognized that the various agencies’

different positions on SALT issues were largely a result of the

natural differences in philosophies and worldviews prevalent

within the agencies. For instance, the State Department and

the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency personnel tended

to place more trust in the Soviets, tended to favor a “show of

good faith,” and saw arms control as an ends in and of itself—

opposing the Nixon/Kissinger policy of linkage, which saw arms

control as a means of gaining political leverage. Ambassador

Gerard Smith, director of ACDA and chief negotiator for the US

SALT delegation, represented the ACDA and State Department

thinking about the goals of SALT. In his book Doubletalk,

Smith said, “in this nuclear age, when rival nations live under

the threat of almost instant destruction, a chance to reduce

that threat has independent value. Adversary nations should

60

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
grasp any such opportunity even though their other relations

are not improving.”27

Smith favored a ban on ABMs and a moratorium on MIRV

testing, and sought a quick start to negotiations, before a MIRV

testing ban would be too late. He noted in a letter to Secretary of

State Rogers that it would be better in the long run to keep

MIRVs out of both countries’ arsenals because it would bring

increased instability, and he saw the weak effort to ban MIRVs

as “the leading lost opportunity” of the negotiations.28 ACDA and

the State Department preferred a broad SALT agreement, sharing the doctrine that deterrence, rather than defense, was the

rational strategic policy that the United States should pursue.29

The Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD), the JCS, and the

NSC, on the other hand, tended to be more skeptical about the

Soviets’ motives and preferred to negotiate from a position of

strength. They did not want to lose access to new technology—

such as MIRVs or futuristic ABM technology, and sought to

minimize constraints. Ambassador Smith believed that Secretary

of Defense Laird’s primary concern was to use the negotiations

as an opportunity to make Americans aware of the Soviet strategic buildup and, thereby, to put pressure on Congress to fund

strategic programs.30 As Smith put it, “Nothing concentrated the

minds of American leaders on the advantages of SALT as much

as the clear and present danger of one-sided arms control in the

form of congressional cuts in US defense budgets.”31 On the

other hand, the Joint Chiefs of Staff were, according to Smith,

generally supportive of SALT, probably due to the lack of utility

of additional offensive launchers, unless widespread ABM

defensive systems were deployed.32

Perhaps the one area of agreement going into the SALT

negotiations—amongst the US agencies, as well as between the

US and Soviet teams—was that any arms-control agreement

had to be verifiable by “national technical means” (NTM) such

as satellites and radar systems.

The SALT negotiations officially opened in Vienna in April of

1970. In the four months since the preliminary talks with the

Soviet team in Helsinki, the US team had focused in on four

options developed by the NSC Verification Panel.33

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THE ROAD TO SALT
Option A: Limit ICBMs and submarine-launched ballistic

missiles (SLBM) to the current US total of 1,170; freeze

strategic bombers at 527 US to 195 USSR; ABM at Safeguard

level of 12 sites.

Option B: Same offensive limits as Option A. ABM limited

to protection of the National Command Authorities (NCA)

or banned ABM.

Option C: Same offensive limits as Option A. Ban on MIRVs

provided the Soviets agree to on-site inspection. ABM: NCA

or banned.

Option D: Major offensive cuts in ICBMs and SLBMs, from

1,710 reduce 100 per year until both sides reach a level of

1,000 by 1978. ABM: NCA or banned. No ban on MIRVs.

The problem, of course, was getting agreement on one of

these options. Kissinger and Garthoff noted the following

breakout in agency support for the different options:34

Option A: Preferred option of OSD and JCS.

Option B: NSC (Kissinger) preferred position, but wanted

Safeguard ABM. 

Option C: Arms Control and Disarmament Agency (ACDA)

and State preferred option.

Option D: ACDA and OSD 2d choice.

As the chair of the Verification Panel, Kissinger took the

group’s recommendations to Nixon. However, while Kissinger

favored Option B, he recommended C and D as the US opening positions. 

This would respond to Congressional and bureaucratic supporters of

MIRV and ABM bans; it would give us the positive public posture of

having favored comprehensive limitations. If the Soviets accepted the

proposals, we would have made a major step forward. If the Soviets

rejected them, as I firmly expected, we could then put forward Option

B from a much stronger domestic and bureaucratic position. If the

Soviets surprised us by accepting our offer, the result would be compatible with our security.35

When it was down to the choice of Option C or Option D,

Garthoff noted that State and ACDA both favored Option C

with its NCA or zero ABM, a freeze on offensive missiles, and

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
a ban on deployment of MIRVs. The DOD favored Option D,

because it did not call for limiting MIRVs, although he notes

the JCS did not agree with the NCA or zero ABM proposal.

Finally, Garthoff noted Kissinger’s intention that neither C nor

D would be accepted, and that Kissinger had added provisions

for on-site verification for the MIRV ban and unilateral cuts for

Soviet offensive missiles, but none for the United States.36

US-Soviet Negotiations on SALT I/ABM

The top priority of the United States in the SALT negotiations was to limit Soviet offensive weapons to assure (or at

least enhance) the survivability of the Minuteman ICBMs. The

Soviets’ top priority was to conclude an ABM treaty that

banned the ABM or limited ABMs to NCA protection. The

United States was determined not to conclude any treaty on

defensive limitations without a concurrent agreement on

offensive arms limits. Furthermore, the United States was

determined not to count US forward-based nuclear systems,

primarily aircraft based in Europe and carrier forces, in any

offensive limits, seeing any such agreement as a threat to our

allies’ perception of our commitment to NATO. The Soviets

sought offensive limits that would count all US FBS and heavy

bombers, seeing any weapon that could reach the USSR as a

strategic threat. And while the United States wanted to put

qualitative limits on strategic launchers to prevent the Soviets

from jeopardizing Minuteman survivability with heavy missiles, the Soviets wanted to avoid any qualitative limitations on

their missiles since they were developing new ICBMs and

SLBMs at the time.

Given the disparate and conflicting objectives of the two

countries, it is not surprising that it took over two years of

negotiations to come to an agreement. From the very beginning, there were several issues that would require significant

compromise before the United States and USSR could reach

any agreement. Three major areas of disagreement involved

MIRV limitations, ABM limitations, and what systems were to

be covered by the treaty—particularly FBS, SLBMs, and modernized ICBMs.

63

THE ROAD TO SALT
MIRV Limitations

From the first months of the Nixon Administration, task

forces had been developing studies of what could and what

should be accomplished under the auspices of SALT. The issue

of the new MIRV technology was a major consideration. In

fact, out of nine options that came out of those initial studies,

four favored a ban on MIRVs.37 The State Department (under

Secretary of State Rogers) and ACDA (under Ambassador

Smith) urged the Nixon Administration to push ahead with

SALT earlier, rather than later, partly due to their concern that

talks begin before the US completed the testing of the MIRV,

which would make it all but impossible to negotiate a MIRV

ban under SALT.38 Indeed, a 9 April 1970 Senate resolution

urged President Nixon to propose the immediate suspension of

development on all offensive and defensive nuclear strategic

weapons, and Sen. Edmund Muskie advocated an “interim

strategic standstill” that included an end to MIRV flight testing.39 The reason was that a MIRV ban would only be readily

verifiable using NTM if it involved a ban on the testing, and

such a ban would only be effective before testing was complete. Once either side was ready to deploy, NTM would not be

sufficient for verification.

How was it that only one of the four options considered by

Nixon prior to the beginning of negotiations in Vienna in May

1970 included any limitations on MIRV, and even that offer

was tied to a stipulation that any MIRV ban require on-site

verification? The answer, according to Kissinger and State

Department SALT delegation member Raymond Garthoff, is

that the OSD and the JCS were “passionately in favor of MIRV,”

and Secretary of Defense Laird, Deputy Secretary of Defense

Packard, and General Wheeler, chairman of the JCS,

demanded on-site verification of any MIRV limitation.40

Garthoff notes that the JCS and OSD were, above all, protective of the imminent American deployment of MIRV. Kissinger

remarked that civilian and military defense officials were

counting on MIRV to counter the increases in Soviet offensive

missile launchers, as well as to penetrate a Soviet ABM system.41 Ultimately, Kissinger felt he had little recourse, because

he needed the political support of the Pentagon and the

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Pentagon’s conservative congressional allies, and that could

only be had if MIRV limits were avoided.42

In fact, the issue of on-site verification that accompanied the

MIRV ban is instructive in that it demonstrates how some

offers were made to the Soviets solely for political purposes,

rather than for serious consideration. Both Smith and Garthoff

discuss at some length how even the CIA deemed on-site inspections for a ban on flight testing of MIRV to be unnecessary—or

even undesirable from a national security perspective—but that

the requirement was added by Nixon and Kissinger after the

NSC Verification Panel reviewed the final four options to placate the JCS and the OSD.43 In fact, the military representatives had indicated during NSC meetings that they saw the onsite inspection requirement as a means of ensuring the Soviets

would not accept a MIRV ban.44 They were correct. Garthoff

noted how his counterpart on the Soviet delegation had been

busily taking notes on the US proposal to ban MIRVs, but that

he “simply put down his pen after the on-site inspection provision was read.”45 In short, the Pentagon did not want a ban

on MIRV; so MIRV was, for all practical purposes, never “on

the table.”

FBS, SLBMs, and Missile Modernization

Two major disagreements plagued the SALT negotiations

from the beginning. First, the Soviets insisted that any limitations on offensive strategic arms count the forward-based

systems—US bombers and aircraft carriers based in the

European theater whose missiles could reach Soviet territory.

Second, the United States insisted that there could be no

agreement on defensive limitations without a concurrent

agreement on offensive limitations. While ACDA and the State

Department would have favored some concessions to the Soviet

concern about the strategic nature of FBS, the White House

would not and could not do so, due to the trouble it would have

caused with our NATO allies and with the joint chiefs.46 As

Kissinger stated in a congressional briefing in June 1971:

The Soviets believed that strategic means any weapons system capable

of reaching the Soviet Union or the United States. This would have

included our forward-based aircraft and carrier forces, but excluded

65

THE ROAD TO SALT
Soviet intermediate-range rockets aimed at Europe and other areas.

We opposed this approach since it would have prejudiced our alliance

commitments and raised a distinction between our own security and

that of our European allies.47

Gerard Smith noted that a “breakthrough” occurred in May

1971 when Kissinger accepted the Soviet proposal to conclude

ABM limitations in conjunction with an interim agreement to

freeze offensive missile launchers, rather than concluding a

comprehensive defensive and offensive arms limitation agreement.48 However, given the recent Soviet buildup, the freeze

would mean a Soviet advantage in both ICBM and SLBM missile launchers. The agreement was concluded in the “back channel” negotiations between Kissinger and Dobrynin, however,

and apparently Kissinger had inadvertently indicated to

Dobrynin that the freeze might or might not include SLBMs—

a significant oversight that both Smith and Garthoff indicated

was to cost much time and effort to correct.49 It was a crucial

oversight. Apparently Kissinger was concentrating on the

Pentagon’s and Congress’s concern with the Soviet ICBM

buildup, and was ignorant of the fact that the United States

did not have the programs or capacity to construct or deploy

additional SLBM-carrying submarines for several years.50

During the following months, when the SALT delegation

attempted to reincorporate SLBMs into the offensive arms

freeze, the Soviets replayed their “then you must count FBS”

card.51 In the end, Kissinger was only able to achieve a SLBM

“breakthrough” in April 1972, by allowing the Soviets what

Garthoff and Smith considered to be an overly generous number of submarines and SLBMs under the “freeze,” selling the

Soviets the inclusion of the SLBMs only because the high

numbers would not interfere with their continued SLBM

buildup.52 Furthermore, Kissinger’s agreement violated the US

principle of not including FBS, since that would count both

British and French submarines in the agreement. Based on

absolute worst-case CIA projections, Kissinger was able to

convince JCS chairman Adm Thomas H. Moorer that the 950

SLBM/62 submarines limit was, in fact, a limitation; although

Kissinger’s pressure on Moorer and Secretary of Defense Laird

to support the SALT SLBM limits in return for White House

66

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
support for an accelerated Trident SSBN-SLBM program was

undoubtedly also influential.53 ACDA’s Smith and Secretary of

State Rogers argued that it would be better to drop the SLBM

freeze.54

Another issue related to freeze limits negotiated by Kissinger

in the back channels that was left to be worked out by the

SALT negotiation team involved Kissinger’s agreement that

within the numerical limits of the freeze on ICBMs and modern large ICBMs (like the SS-9) there would be no limitations

on modernization or replacement of missiles or missile launchers. However, to achieve verifiable limits on heavy ICBMs, the

United States needed to get constraints on modernization.

Specifically, there needed to be a limit on the increases in the

size of silos undergoing modernization, as well as a definition

of what constituted a large or heavy missile. In the end, the

United States succeeded at neither task, relying instead on a

vague agreement that ICBM silo size could not be significantly

increased, and never achieving a definition of what constituted

a heavy missile, or any agreement on limiting changes in missile volume, leaving those definitions for the SALT II negotiators to work out.55

Implications of SALT I and ABM Treaties

The SALT I and ABM treaties have had their critics. To some

it seemed that the unequal numbers frozen in the interim

agreement were a threat to US security, and that the US negotiators had given up too much for too little. For others, the

United States wasted an opportunity to ban a costly and dangerous new technology when it failed to include restrictions or

a complete ban on MIRV technology. However, considering the

various agencies that ultimately supported the treaties, as well

as their successful ratification by the Senate, there were

clearly significant benefits associated directly and indirectly

with these first arms limitations. While the freeze on offensive

ballistic missile launchers did not appreciably limit the damages if war were to occur, the ABM and SALT I treaties did

have significant benefits in terms of minimizing the likelihood

of war between the two superpowers, and it may have had

some effect in terms of reducing the costs of preparing for war.

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As the first bilateral negotiations on arms limitations between

the two superpowers, the SALT treaties were both a success

and a failure. State Department SALT delegate and scholar

Raymond Garthoff made the following assessment of the

agreements:

The SALT I agreements of 1972 constituted a substantial step in

strategic arms control, although an incomplete one owing to the weak

constraints involved in the interim freeze on strategic offensive missiles

and the unresolved differences on the whole complex of offensive systems. . . . It also served the mundane aims of halting the Soviet buildup

of ICBM launchers without constraining the U.S. buildup of MIRV.56

Certainly SALT placed an upper limit on the up until then

massive Soviet buildup of offensive strategic weapons launchers, and the ABM Treaty prevented an arms race fueled by a

buildup of antiballistic missile defense systems. Due to the

efforts of the American negotiating team, the ABM limitations

also extended to futuristic technologies, further reducing the

threat that defensive systems might lead to spiraling costs for

offensive arms to counter them. So, there were almost certainly

some savings in military spending realized by both sides.

However, Garthoff, Kissinger, and Ambassador Smith have

all remarked on the opportunity lost when the SALT negotiations failed to “keep the genie in the bottle” when it came to

MIRV technology. As discussed above, the military was

strongly opposed to giving up the MIRV that was seen as

essential to balance the overwhelming advantage the Soviets

were gaining with their massive ICBM and SLBM programs.

Furthermore, the military was understandably reluctant to

forego the MIRV before it was certain that the two countries

would indeed reach an ABM agreement. The problem was that

it was inevitable that the Soviets would also soon develop

MIRV technology, which would further exacerbate the strategic imbalance in ICBMs. Even Kissinger admitted as much in

a press conference once it was clear that the Soviets were also

developing MIRVs saying, “I wish I had thought through the

implications of a MIRVed world more thoughtfully in 1969 and

1970 than I did.”57 Perhaps, with 20-20 hindsight, it would

have been possible to delay the MIRV testing which would

have made a MIRV ban possible.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
In terms of the negotiation process itself, Smith’s and

Garthoff’s reviews of the SALT negotiations provide some criticisms of back-channel approaches to negotiations. In particular, they note the opportunities for miscommunication, and

the distrust that mixed signals engendered on both Soviet and

the US teams. Unfortunately for the United States, the Soviet

SALT delegation was much better informed about the issues

being discussed and the deals being made in the Kissinger

back channels, which put the US delegation at a distinct disadvantage and which also reduced the level of trust between

the delegation and the White House. Furthermore, some of the

“loopholes” and later disagreements regarding potential treaty

violations might have been avoided had there been more coordination between the two negotiation tracks, particularly on

the American side.58

While there has been considerable debate in recent years

about the potential for the United States unilaterally pulling

out of the ABM Treaty to work towards a national missile

defense system to guard against ballistic missile attacks by

rogue nations, the ABM Treaty undoubtedly served a valuable

purpose during the Cold War. A system of antiballistic missile

systems—a thick defense—would have worked havoc on the

strategic doctrine of mutually assured destruction that provided stability during the Cold War. With the Soviets’ shift

towards thinking of defensive systems as potentially destabilizing, it was more important than ever to prevent a defensiveoffensive weapons arms race from spiraling out of control. In

addition, the realities of domestic politics made it unlikely that

the United States would have been able to field an ABM system, potentially permitting the Soviets to overcome the

Americans’ temporary advantage in defensive systems. The

related agreement of both countries on the necessity to allow

national technical means of verification, primarily through

satellite and other remote sensing, grew out of the mutual

recognition that strategic stability required a certain level of

transparency and predictability.

Probably the clearest benefit of the SALT negotiations was

the opening up of an era of détente—just as Nixon and

Kissinger had hoped. The negotiations were valuable in and of

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THE ROAD TO SALT
themselves in relaxing the tensions between two adversaries.

It was “negotiation as a substitute for confrontation.”59 Kissinger

said:

In my view SALT was not a cure-all. I saw in it an opportunity to

redress the strategic balance but also to create the conditions for political restraint without which escalating crises were in my view

inevitable, whatever happened to SALT. Militarily, SALT would delay

the Soviet buildup and thus the ultimate threat to our land-based

forces. It could help us preserve the sinews of our defense and to catch

up numerically in the face of the stormy dissent produced by Vietnam.

SALT could begin the process of mutual restraint without which

mankind would sooner or later face Armageddon.60

SALT II (1972–79)

The domestic context of the SALT II negotiations was somewhat less favorable than it had been for SALT I. First, there

had been significant congressional dissatisfaction with the

inequality of the limits on strategic offensive weapons negotiated

under the interim agreement. As a result, while the Senate ratified SALT I, they stipulated in the Jackson Amendment, proposed by Sen. “Scoop” Jackson, that any future arms-control

agreements would only be acceptable if they included equal levels of strategic offensive weapons, signaling that future armscontrol agreements would face great scrutiny in the Senate.

Second, President Nixon’s credibility and influence in foreign

policy, including the SALT II negotiations, were adversely

impacted by the Watergate scandal and cover-up that consumed much of the administration’s time and focus. In addition, the public support for détente, as well as the public’s

trust that the Soviet Union would abide by negotiated limitations began to waiver in the mid-1970s. However, there was

still the impetus for arms control provided by congressional

and public desire for reduced defense budgets, as well as by

the fact that the Soviet offensive strategic weapons buildup was

continuing at an alarming rate. Finally, while the Soviets would

have been happy to retain the numerical advantages in launchers permitted under the interim SALT I agreement, the United

States could not maintain that status quo—particularly as the

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Soviets began to replace their old ICBMs with new, more accurate, MIRVed ICBMs.

It was difficult to keep up the momentum in the negotiations

with Nixon’s resignation and with some of the personnel

changes that came with the Ford and Carter administrations.

All three of the presidents during this timeframe—Nixon, Ford,

and Carter—were seriously committed to the conclusion of a

SALT II agreement. Henry Kissinger remained the “point man”

for SALT II, and he continued to dominate the negotiations

from 1972 through 1976, first as national security advisor

(NSA) to Nixon and Ford, then as both NSA and secretary of

state under Ford. Under the Carter Administration, Secretary

of State Cyrus Vance and ACDA Director Paul Warnke were

ostensibly leading the SALT II negotiation effort. However, the

different secretaries of defense had a singularly important role

in the process, as the following discussion on interagency

negotiations illustrates.

US-Soviet relations had improved somewhat in the early

1970s as both countries pursued détente, and the United

States gained some advantages from the triangular diplomacy

that exploited the schism between the Soviet and Chinese

communists. However, wars by the two superpowers’ proxies

continued around the globe, and the Middle East in particular

was of grave concern. Secretary of Defense James Schlesinger

noted in his fiscal year (FY) 1976 report to Congress that the

Middle East had the potential for turning into the Balkans of

1914, even while the Western powers were tending to look

inward to deal with international economic problems that were

similar to those that caused such great instability in the

1930s.61 All of the secretaries of defense during this period

warned that the United States had to respond to the Soviets’

aggressive military buildup. Schlesinger noted that the Soviets

were devoting significantly more resources than the United

States—20 percent more in research and development and 60

percent more in strategic nuclear offensive forces.62 A year

later, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld noted the Soviet

military’s concerted, decade-long effort to increase both the

quantities and quality of their strategic capabilities. In addition to adding 1,600 ICBMs, 700 SLBMs, and 2,000 warheads

71

THE ROAD TO SALT
and bombs, in 1975 the Soviets were developing four new

ICBMs (two of which were MIRVed), they were producing a new

generation of ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs, one with a

4,200-mile range), they had improved the accuracy of their

ICBMs, they were deploying large MIRVs with high-yield warheads, and they were developing the SS-20 mobile intermediate range ballistic missile (IRBM).63

The increase in offensive strategic programs on which

Secretary of Defense Laird had predicated his support for the

SALT I and ABM treaties continued into the beginning of the

Carter Administration. As a counter to the Soviets’ buildup,

the DOD was working on the Trident SLBM system with new

submarines and missiles, the B-1 strategic bomber with subsonic cruise armed decoys (SCAD) and short-range attack

missiles (SRAM), plus air-launched cruise missiles (ALCM)

and sea-launched cruise missiles (SLCM), and finally the new

MX ICBM.64 Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld noted that these

programs were essential to achieve four basic objectives for

the US strategic nuclear forces: a second-strike capability; a

flexible nuclear response; essential equivalence to maintain

strategic nuclear balance; and stability in strategic nuclear competition that would forsake a disarming first-strike capability

and that sought to achieve equitable arms-control agreements.65

US and Soviet Objectives for SALT II

As mentioned above, there was naturally somewhat of a gap

between the two countries’ levels of motivation for the quick

conclusion of a treaty that would, in accordance with the

Jackson Amendment, have to provide for equal levels of strategic offensive arms. The Soviets had a five-year numerical advantage in strategic missile launchers to lose, and any agreement

to limit the numbers of ICBM or SLBM launchers would force

much more significant cuts on the USSR, given its military

buildup. In fact, from the course of negotiations, it appears

that the Soviets were generally quite happy with the relatively

minor limitations to their offensive buildup under the Interim

Agreement, and that their objectives were primarily to retain

as much of an advantage in their offensive capability as possible, at the same time as they restricted US technological

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
advantages, such as the cruise missile and bombers which

were not counted under SALT I limitations. They were also

interested in getting the US forward-based nuclear systems in

Europe counted in any offensive weapons limits. Additionally,

they were concerned about our NATO allies, Germany in particular, getting access to US cruise missile technology. Nixon’s

assessment in his memoirs was that the Soviet objective during the SALT II negotiations was to develop and maintain a

first-strike capability against the US ICBMs; the United States

could not, according to Nixon, succeed in achieving its objectives because the United States had nothing to bargain with.66

In Nixon’s eyes, the Soviets did not seek equality or equivalency, they sought to prepare to win a nuclear war that they

believed was quite possible, undesirable as that might be.67

The “histrionic lengths” that the Soviets went to in refusing to

consider any proposal to roll back the limit of 308 heavy

ICBMs, to avoid any limits on their MIRVed modern large ballistic missiles (MLBM), and their hostile reaction to President

Carter’s “deep cuts” would seem to support Nixon’s conclusion.68

It could be that the Soviets only participated in the SALT II

negotiations because they were obligated to after their conclusion of SALT I. However, it is also possible that they actually

sought to enhance strategic stability and to avoid a nuclear conflict; President Gerald R. Ford was impressed with Brezhnev’s

sincere desire to avoid a third world war when the two negotiated at Vladivostok.69 During the Carter Administration,

Brezhnev was also working hard at reducing barriers to trade

with the United States, and for that cooperation on SALT II

was as much of a necessity as the USSR respect for human

rights.70 In a sense, the Soviets wanted the economic benefits

of détente under SALT II negotiations as much as Nixon and

Kissinger sought the political benefits of détente under the

SALT I negotiations.

The United States objectives for SALT II were much more

focused than they had been under the previous set of negotiations. Throughout the SALT II negotiations, the basic US goal

was to preserve strategic stability—to deter a nuclear war with

the Soviet Union by ensuring a second-strike capability. The

challenge was to achieve parity given the two adversaries’

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different mixes of strategic weapons and the need for verification of qualitative restrictions. The Soviet testing of their

MIRVed MLBMs in the summer of 1973 made it clear that one

rationale Nixon had used to sell SALT I to Congress—the US

superiority in the number of warheads—would not apply for

long. The USSR would have more ICBMs; it would have

MIRVed ICBMs, and among those would be 308 heavy missiles

that could be MIRVed.71 Nixon stated that at the beginning of

the SALT II negotiations:

Our objective was to redress the inequalities that had been accepted

by necessity in SALT I, and particularly to obtain reductions in the

massive 4-1 throw weight advantage that had been permitted the

Soviets. Our concern was that the Soviets would be able to convert

their throw weight by the middle 1980s into a disarming first-strike

option against our land-based ICBMs, our submarines in port, and our

bombers on the ground. In such a situation the United States would

have no response available except for the completely illogical and suicidal response of attacking Soviet cities with our small remaining force,

inviting a massive, certain Soviet retaliation upon our own cities.72

In short, the United States was still concerned about the vulnerability of its Minuteman ICBM force.

There was one notable, if relatively short-lived, shift in US

objectives for SALT II. Shortly after he became president in

1977, Carter proposed a much grander scope for SALT II, particularly given the Vladivostok Accord of November 1974.

According to Leslie Gelb, the State Department’s main voice on

arms control under Secretary of State Vance, arms control was

Carter’s highest priority at the beginning of his administration, and Carter wanted “to go beyond what President Ford

and Henry Kissinger had done and to have truly deep cuts in

nuclear weapons—not marginal cuts, but deep cuts, to really

end the nuclear competition.”73 However, that objective ran

directly counter to what the Soviets sought from SALT II, and

the Carter team backed down from their more ambitious goals.

SALT II: Interagency Negotiations

Henry Kissinger was still very much the central figure for

the first few years of SALT II negotiations, from November

1972 through 1976. However, his control over the US agenda

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
began to wane when President Ford relieved him of his position as national security advisor (NSA) as part of the “October

Massacre” of 1975 that saw Donald Rumsfeld replace James

Schlesinger as secretary of defense, and Kissinger’s former

deputy Brent Scowcroft take over as NSA. Kissinger still had

the helm of the State Department that he had taken over in

August 1973 after William Rogers resigned, and he continued

to run the back-channel negotiations.74 As a Ford speechwriter

put it, “Kissinger no longer got to play God during his daily

one-hour meeting with the president.”75 With Kissinger’s institutional advantage over the other cabinet members neutralized, the close personal relations between Ford and his former

chief of staff, Donald Rumsfeld, allowed the new secretary of

defense to play a stronger role in the development of the Ford

Administration’s SALT II negotiating positions. A few months

after Rumsfeld became secretary of defense his doubt that the

Soviets ever intended to accept strategic equality, and his hesitancy to move ahead with a strategy that did not have political and bureaucratic support were instrumental in Ford’s

decision to give up on achieving a SALT II agreement during

his term by early 1976.76

The lines of interagency dispute shifted somewhat during

the Ford Administration. As had been the case for Nixon, Ford

recognized that the secretary of defense and the joint chiefs

held a “trump card,” in that the loss of support from any of

them would likely end the chances of Senate ratification of any

agreement.77 However, ACDA Director Fred Ikle tended to side

with defense and the CIA, expressing reservations about

Kissinger’s negotiations, breaking the old alliance that had

existed between state and ACDA.78 Rumsfeld, the joint chiefs,

and Ikle blocked Kissinger’s Ford-approved proposal for a

compromise that limited cruise missiles in exchange for Soviet

constraints on the Backfire bomber—the two major outstanding issues that prevented an agreement based on the

Vladivostok Accord from being reached in 1976.79

During the Carter Administration, it was again the secretary

of defense, now Harold Brown, who “quickly established himself as the single most influential SALT policy maker in the

new administration aside from the President himself.”80 Brown

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THE ROAD TO SALT
had been a member of and consultant to the SALT negotiation

teams under both the Nixon and Ford administrations, and he

and his deputy both favored more ambitious goals than

Kissinger had been willing to attempt.81 Brown’s influence was

partly attributable to his position, for Carter, too, recognized

that he needed the support of the Defense Department and the

JCS to have a chance at gaining Senate approval of SALT II.82

However, Brown also gained clout due to his considerable government experience, and his bold manner, and perhaps also

due to the fact that Secretary of State Cyrus Vance was

extremely busy with other foreign policy.

There were two general issues that were a source of interagency (and personal) rivalry from the first days of the Carter

Administration. The first concerned whether or not there

would be a Kissinger-type linkage between the SALT II negotiations and broader US-Soviet relations. The second concerned

the scope of negotiations; would Carter continue along the

lines of Ford and Kissinger, or would he seek to propose more

radical reductions. Vance’s influence on Carter’s arms-control

negotiations approach and US-Soviet relations in general was

challenged by the president’s Assistant for National Security

Affairs Zbigniew Brzezinski, as well as by Brown. While early

on Carter eschewed a policy of linking arms control with

broader Soviet-US relations, he ultimately ended up doing just

that. Brzezinski noted that a sharp division developed between

himself, Secretary Brown, and the joint chiefs on one hand,

and Secretary Vance and ACDA Paul Warnke on the other

hand on the issue of linkage.83 Brzezinski wanted Carter and

Vance to avoid emphasizing SALT so heavily, without some

reduction in the USSR’s interventionism around the globe,

while Vance (and Carter at first) initially sought to use SALT

as an opening for improved relations. Brzezinski called for “a

firmer response and a more direct sustained dialogue with the

Soviets on what was and was not acceptable.”84 Domestic

political realities ultimately dictated linkage, for as Brzezinski

had opined, without “comprehensive and reciprocal détente,”

SALT II would never be ratified, and Carter explicitly imposed

linkages between SALT negotiations and Soviet-sponsored revolutions in Africa.85

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
The second major issue arose in developing the administration’s opening move for the SALT II negotiations. Carter had

come into office with a vision of eliminating nuclear weapons

from the face of the earth, but the fact was that the United

States and USSR were not too far apart on an agreement based

on the accord reached by Ford and Brezhnev in Vladivostok

and subsequent Kissinger-Dobrynin meetings. Vance and

ACDA Director Warnke favored the quick conclusion of an

agreement based on Vladivostok, but Brzezkinski and Brown

favored deep cuts. Brown and Brzezinski sought an agreement

that would reduce overall levels of strategic weapons, especially of ICBMs and MIRVs that threatened the survivability of

US ICBMs, while Vance saw the diplomatic drawbacks of an

overly ambitious agenda.86

The cruise missile and Backfire bomber issues were to

plague the SALT II negotiations up until the very end in both

the US interagency process and US-Soviet negotiations.

During the Ford-Kissinger era, the Pentagon had made it clear

that they wanted the Backfire counted as a strategic weapon

system, as a heavy bomber, because if the Soviets were to

develop refueling support capability, the Backfire would have

intercontinental range. However, Kissinger did not believe it

should count in the ceiling for strategic launchers and in his

back-channel negotiations with the USSR, he made that concession, believing he could override the Pentagon’s position.87

He was wrong. Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld and chairman

of the JCS Gen George Brown forced Kissinger to back down,

rather gracelessly given that Kissinger had already briefed the

press on that facet of his negotiations.88 Carter and Vance had

similar difficulties. While State favored the Soviet proposal to

exclude the Backfire from the 2,400 ceiling of delivery systems,

the JCS were determined to count it as a strategic weapon, and

the Defense Department urged a trade-off between the Backfire

and the US ground-launched cruise missiles (GLCM).89 As the

following section on key issues in the US-USSR negotiations

discusses, the Backfire issue was only finally resolved between

Carter and Brezhnev the day the treaty was signed two and a

half years later.

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The second challenging issue for SALT II negotiations involved

developing US cruise missile technology. When Kissinger and

Ford met with the Soviets in Vladivostok in November 1974,

they thought they had all but wrapped up the negotiations.

However, in preparing the record of the summit meeting, the

aide-mémoire, the Soviets brought up the issue of air-launched

cruise missiles, even though cruise missiles had not been discussed at the summit. They wanted the record to specify that

the 2,400 ceiling on strategic delivery systems would include

“air-to-surface missiles,” while the United States had only been

discussing ballistic missiles, not cruise missiles.90 Despite the

fervent protestations of the secretary of defense and the JCS,

Kissinger and Ford agreed to include the more general term

“air-to-surface missiles.” This led to problems in later years as

the Air Force and the Navy began to see a bigger role for cruise

missiles, and wanted to undo the concession made at

Vladivostok.

Cruise missiles remained a major issue throughout the negotiations during the Carter Administration. In the interagency

negotiations in which the comprehensive proposal presented

to the Soviets in March 1977 was developed, there was significant disagreement on limits for cruise missile range. The OSD

proposed a 2,500 kilometer (km) limit for ALCMs, with stricter

limits for GLCMs and SLCMs, which Vance supported, while

the NSC and ACDA proposed a 1,500 km limit for all cruise

missiles.91 The JCS actually supported the lower limit, but

with an ulterior motive. According to a JCS officer, they “figured that a 1,500-kilometer limit on ALCMs was sure-fire

insurance that we would get the B-1, because without the B-1

the limit made no sense.”92 When Secretary of Defense Brown,

with Carter’s support, cancelled the B-1 program in 1977, it

was a shock to the US delegation in Vienna and the JCS, both

of whom had been counting on the B-1.93 The result was that

the issue of range had to be revisited, and Brown himself

sought to increase the range to 3,000 km, but Vance and

Warnke persuaded him that it was too late.94

Toward the very end of negotiations, in July 1978, another

cruise missile issue cropped up as the delegations got into the

fine points related to verification of the agreement—whether

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
missiles with conventional warheads would count against the

launcher limits. The DOD and the JCS were adamant on the

principle that the SALT agreement should not limit conventional or tactical weapons, particularly as both the Air Force

and the Navy began to see more possibilities for conventional

cruise missiles.95 Indeed, our German allies wanted access to

conventional GLCMs, so they were also pushing to exclude

them from any agreement. Over the objections of State and

ACDA who argued that such a distinction would be unverifiable, Carter agreed to push for the differentiation.96 In the

final agreement the United States and the USSR compromised and counted all long-range cruise missiles as strategic

launchers—but only for three years, after which time only

ALCMs on long-range bombers would count against the 2,400

launcher limit.

US-Soviet Negotiations

The complexity of the highly technical and myriad intertwined issues involved in SALT II led to the negotiations being

drawn out over seven years and three presidential administrations. Nixon, Ford, and Carter all thought early in their administrations that an agreement with the Soviets was imminent.

However, the two countries’ very different strategic nuclear

force structures made agreeing upon essential equivalency

very difficult. The Soviets concentrated their nuclear warheads

overwhelmingly in their ICBM forces as well as in their SLBMs.

The United States, on the other hand, was not building any

new ICBMs, had a lead in SLBMs (during the early negotiations), and was far ahead in developing cruise-missile technology, potentially enhancing the strategic bomber leg of the

triad. The negotiations only got more complicated as time went

on and each side continued to develop their weapons technology, so that mobile ICBMs, increasingly accurate MIRVs, new

ballistic missiles such as the intermediate range SS-20, and

the US’s improving cruise-missile technology all had to be

dealt with in the context of the negotiations. Furthermore, the

Soviets sought equal security, which in their eyes required

taking into consideration US forward-based nuclear systems,

as well as our NATO allies’ nuclear forces capable of reaching

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the USSR. At the same time, the United States was contending with already strained relations with its NATO allies, and

any agreements that could be perceived as divorcing the security interests of the United States from those of Western

Europe had to be avoided.

SALT II started out as a challenging endeavor. The detailed

negotiations required due to qualitative limitations, new technologies, and the complexities of verification meant that SALT

II only became more challenging as the years of negotiations

dragged on. To make sense out of the very complex negotiations that transpired over the seven-year period, the following

discussion examines the major agreements and disagreements

between the United States and the Soviets at a few critical

points in the process—the Ford/Kissinger Vladivostok negotiations of October–November 1974, the Carter/Vance comprehensive proposal and deferral proposal of March 1977, and

the breakthrough negotiations of November 1977 along with

the final SALT II agreement. The primary concerns of the two

sides remained the same. The United States was focused on

reducing or eliminating the threat to the survivability of its

Minuteman ICBM force posed by the Soviet MIRVed, heavy

ICBMs. The Soviets were primarily concerned about putting

limits on the range and deployment of the US cruise missile,

as well as the threat posed by all NATO nuclear forces. The

debate about the Soviet Backfire bomber and the US cruise

missiles were often at the center of the conflict, as was the

problem of verifiability of treaty provisions.

Vladivostok (October–November 1974). When Ford completed his summit meeting with Brezhnev in Vladivostok in

November 1974, he thought that with the SALT II negotiations

were 90 to 95 percent complete, and he looked forward to signing a treaty sometime in the spring of 1975.97 The groundwork

had been laid out the month before in meetings between

Kissinger, and Brezhnev and his Minister of Foreign Affairs

Andrei Gromyko, as well as in meetings between Kissinger and

Soviet ambassador to the United States, Anatoly Dobrynin.

Kissinger proposed the following in October 1974:

• a ceiling of 2,200 strategic nuclear launch vehicles

(SNLV);

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
• a subceiling of 1,320 MIRVed SNLVs;

• a limit of 250 heavy systems, including the Soviet’s SS-9

ICBM and the US B-52 and [future] B-1 heavy bombers;

• a ban on air-to-surface missiles with ranges of over 3,000

km; and

• a limit of modernization on launchers to 175 per year.98

However, Brezhnev sought to have unequal ceilings on strategic launchers, proposing a ceiling of 2,400 for the USSR and

2,200 for the United States in recognition of the approximately

200 British and French nuclear missiles.99 They discussed an

equal aggregates approach, whereby the Soviets would get more

launchers while the United States would get more MIRVs.

Brezhnev said nyet on any cuts to Soviet heavy missiles, but

he proposed a compromise on that issue—in exchange for not

counting the American FBS or its NATO allies’ nuclear

weapons capable of reaching the USSR, the United States

would not ask the Soviets to reduce their 308 heavy ICBMs.100

The agreement on the framework for SALT II that was

reached by Ford and Brezhnev in November 1974 still failed to

reduce the number of Soviet heavy ICBMs. The Vladivostok

accord included

• a ceiling of 2,400 SNLVs, including ICBMs, SLBMs, and

long-range bombers;

• a subceiling of 1,320 MIRVed ICBMs and SLBMs;

• a duration from October 1977 through December 1983;

• no compensation for forward-based systems; and

• maintain SALT I ban on additional ICBM silos and ban on

converting silos for light ICBMs into launchers for heavy

ICBMs.101

The Soviet concession on FBS was a relief to the Americans,

as was the agreement on equal levels of launchers which

would make it much more palatable for the domestic US

audience—particularly given the Jackson Amendment to

SALT I. However, as former President Nixon noted, the Soviets

resisted limits on throw weight and on the number of warheads (versus the number of MIRVed launchers)—the two limitations that would have made the greatest contribution to

reducing the threat of a Soviet first-strike capability destroying

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THE ROAD TO SALT
the ICBM component of the US strategic triad. The inability of

the United States to overcome Soviet intransigence was due,

in Nixon’s judgment, to the American’s not having much to

bargain with.102 The agreement did, however, limit the risk to

the United States somewhat by limiting the growth of the

number of Soviet warheads in the face of a rapid Soviet

buildup in ICBMs and its efforts to MIRV those missiles.

For the Soviet’s part, the Vladivostok accord allowed them to

continue their program of MIRVing ICBMs, and avoided any

cuts in their heavy ICBMs, while placing limits on US MIRVs

when the United States had already deployed 80 percent of the

1,320 limit.103 Surprisingly, the Soviets never raised the issue

of cruise missiles at the summit, but they soon sought to rectify that oversight. As noted in the discussion on interagency

negotiations above, the issue of cruise missiles came up in the

weeks following the summit as both sides sought to agree on

an aide-mémoire. Ultimately the Soviets prevailed on that

point. Apparently in his haste to get an agreed-upon communiqué to show to Congress, Kissinger allowed the Soviets to

leave out the word ballistic and to state that “air-to-surface

missiles” were included in the 2,400 SNLV limit if they had a

range over 600 km.104 The United States considered the issue

of cruise missiles unresolved; the Soviets thought they had

won a concession. Finally, an issue that both sides recognized

as being unresolved was whether the Soviet Backfire bomber

should count as a heavy bomber, and therefore count under

the 2,400 SNLV ceiling.

There was general support for the Vladivostok guidelines for

SALT II. The secretary of defense and the chairman of the

Joint Chiefs of Staff approved it, and both the House and

Senate passed resolutions supporting it.105 However, the

momentum was lost in the following months as the SALT delegations struggled with the cruise-missile issue, the Backfire

bomber, the verification of MIRVing, what constituted a “new”

ICBM silo, and how to define “light” and “heavy” missiles.

Domestic US public opinion and congressional opinion were

beginning to turn against the Soviets, and new Secretary of

Defense Rumsfeld was wary of the agreement. The roots of

congressional opposition were clearly there from the beginning,

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
for as Kissinger admitted in a background briefing to the press

the day after the Vladivostok summit, the accord did not provide a solution to the throw-weight problem; that would only

be solved if the president would decide to deploy heavier missiles, which the accord permitted him to do.106

Kissinger came close to working out an agreement with the

Soviets in early 1976; however, based on domestic opposition

within Congress and within the Ford Administration, the

cruise missile and the Backfire issues remained unsettled.

When the Soviets turned down Ford’s offer to conclude a

treaty based on the Vladivostok ceilings, with a three-year

agreement on cruise missiles and the Backfire bomber, that

ended the chances for a SALT II treaty with the presidential

elections and Ford’s hesitancy to push ahead with an agreement that was being criticized on all sides—for either doing too

much to limit the United States, or too little to limit both sides. 

Carter: Comprehensive Proposal and Deferral Proposal

(March 1977). As discussed above, Carter, with the urging of

Secretary of Defense Brown and National Security Advisor

Brzezinski, decided to push for major reductions in the ceilings agreed upon at Vladivostok. In a press briefing immediately after his meeting with Brezhnev and Gromyko, Secretary

of State Vance revealed that the Soviets had turned down two

proposals.107 The first was a deferral proposal, proposed to

defer the difficult cruise missile and Backfire bomber issues

and to sign a treaty based on the agreements reached at

Vladivostok. The second, the comprehensive proposal that

Carter preferred and urged the Soviets to seriously consider,

called for a

• 20 percent reduction in the SNLV ceiling from 2,400 to

1,800;

• reduction in MIRV launchers from 1,320 to between 1,100

and 1,200;

• sublimit of 550 MIRVed ICBMs;

• cut in large Soviet heavy ICBMs from 308 to 150;

• range limit of 2,500 km on all cruise missiles and mobile

missiles;

• limit of six ICBM flight tests per year;

• continued ban on construction of new ICBM launchers;

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THE ROAD TO SALT
• continued ban on the modification of existing ICBMs;

• ban on the development, testing, and deployment of

mobile ICBM launchers; and the

• Soviets would provide a list of measures to assure Backfire

bombers would not be used as strategic launchers.108

The comprehensive proposal met US needs by reducing the

number of Soviet MIRVs and heavy ICBMs, the major threat to

US Minuteman ICBMs, and by slowing down the Soviets’ ICBM

programs in general, while the United States could keep its

550 Minuteman ICBMs and accepted only minimal limitations

on cruise missile range. However, the proposal failed to meet

Soviet needs, and Brezhnev’s needs in particular. The JCS

representative on the SALT negotiation team notes that his

Soviet counterparts attributed the Soviets’ outright rejection of

the proposal to the fact that Brezhnev had staked his domestic credibility on the US acceptance of the Vladivostok

accords.109 ACDA’s Warnke was told similarly that Brezhnev

had “spilled political blood” to reach the compromise that

excluded US FBS in return for the Soviets’ maintaining all 308

heavy ICBMs.110

In his own press conference, Gromyko explained the Soviets’

utter dissatisfaction with both proposals, noting that, contrary

to what Vance had said to the press, there had not been

progress. The problem with the deferral proposal was that it

claimed that Vladivostok gave the green light to cruise missiles, but they should be considered under the limitations as

air-to-surface missiles; Kissinger’s aide-mémoire was coming

back to haunt the United States. Therefore, it was no concession for the United States to put off dealing with the cruise

missile, in particular because the Soviets categorically rejected

the idea that the Backfire was a strategic weapon. Furthermore,

in the comprehensive proposal, the United States proposed

that the USSR “liquidate half of those rockets in our possession which are simply disliked by somebody in the United

States” and the new ban against modernization would only

hurt the Soviets’ ICBMs while the United States went ahead

with its new B-1 bomber. Gromyko indicated that two proposals they had put forward in the past should also be open to

renegotiation—not handing strategic weapons over to third

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
countries and the advance deployment of US nuclear weapons

in Europe; if the United States was going to reopen issues

agreed upon at Vladivostok, then the USSR was entitled to

address these questions again. The Soviets decried the US

attempt to gain unilateral advantage, and urged the Carter

Administration to take up “a more realistic stand.” In other

words, the United States needed to go back to the Soviets’

understanding of Vladivostok.111

Breakthrough in September 1977 and the Signed

Agreement in June 1979. After the inauspicious beginning

of SALT II negotiations under the new administration, Carter

and his team recaptured some momentum later that year,

despite other complicating factors such as the Soviet deployment of SS-20 intermediate-range nuclear missiles and the

Backfire bomber, and the US plans to deploy enhanced radiation weapons (ERW) or neutron bombs as a response.112

However, in September of that same year in a meeting between

Carter, Vance, and Gromyko, the latter indicated that while

the Soviets would not cut the number of their heavy missiles,

they could negotiate a MIRVed ICBM subceiling in exchange

for the United States agreeing to count its cruise missiles on

heavy bombers in the 1,320 MIRV limits, plus the Soviets

would guarantee measures to assure the United States that

the Backfire bomber would not have intercontinental range.113

Taking his cues from the Soviet concessions, and the apparent necessity that any SALT II agreement incorporate the

2,400 and 1,320 ceilings from the Vladivostok agreement,

Brzezinski and some of his NSC staff came up with a three-tier

proposal which included

• the initial ceiling of 2,400 SNLVs to be lowered to 2,160

during life of treaty;

• a subceiling of 1,320 MIRVed launchers, including cruisemissile-carrying bombers and MIRVed ICBMs and SLBMs;

• an additional subceiling of 1,200 MIRVed ICBMs and

SLBMs; and

• a maximum of 800 MIRVed ICBMs.114

From the Soviet point of view, the proposal had the virtue of

including the 2,400 and 1,320 limits from the Vladivostok

accord, and it required the Americans to include long-range

85

THE ROAD TO SALT
capable ALCMs under the subceiling for MIRVed launchers.

From the American point of view, it limited the number of

MIRVed ICBMs, which was beginning to be a bigger concern as

the Soviets deployed the SS-19 and SS-18, and the United

States had to consider the possibility that the Soviets might

MIRV all of their ICBMs.115 It also reduced the overall number

of launchers and gave the United States 120 “free” ALCM

carriers—the difference between the 1,320 ceiling and the

1,200 MIRVed ICBMs and SLBMs that the Soviets would have. 

Although it would take another 19 months until Carter and

Brezhnev reached final accord in June 1979, the basic structure of SALT II limitations came from that November 1977

breakthrough. The major provisions of the final SALT II agreement included a treaty, a protocol, and a joint statement of

principles. The treaty included

• a limit on SNLVs, 2,400, to be reduced to 2,250 by the

end of 1981;

• a subceiling of 1,320 ICBMs, SLBMs, and long-range

bombers equipped with long-range cruise missiles (range

greater than 600 km);

• an additional sublimit of 1,200 missile launchers with

MIRVs and within that sublimit a maximum of 820 ICBMs

could be MIRVed;

• a limit on modern large ICBMs frozen at 308 for USSR, 0

for the United States;

• ceilings on throw-weight and launch-weight for

heavy/light ICBMs;

• a limit of one test of a new type of ICBM;

• fractionation limits—10 reentry vehicles (RV) on new

ICBMs, 14 RVs on SLBMs, and 10 RVs on air-to-surface

ballistic missiles;

• a ban on testing/deployment of ALCMs with a range

above 600 km other than on long-range bombers;

• a ban of heavy, mobile ICBMs, heavy SLBMs, and air-tosurface ballistic missiles;

• a ban on ballistic missiles with ranges greater than 600

km deployed on surface ships;

• advance notification of certain ICBM test launches; and

• a ban on ICBM systems that can be rapidly reloaded.116

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
As is often noted, “The devil is in the details.” And it was the

many details related to these SALT II provisions that caused

the negotiations to go on for months after the basic numerical

ceilings and subceilings had been agreed upon. The issue of

the Backfire bomber was only resolved the day that Carter

signed SALT II, when Brezhnev told Carter that the Soviets

would not produce more than 30 Backfire bombers a year—an

agreement that was heavily criticized during Senate ratification hearings.117 Other politically contentious provisions related

to the encryption of missile test data which impeded verification of new types of missiles, how the range of a cruise missile

is counted, differentiating between conventional and nuclear

cruise missiles, how to differentiate between MIRVed and

unMIRVed ICBMs, and whether a mobile land-based missile—

like the MX planned by the United States—was verifiable and,

hence, allowable.118 The United States wanted the Soviets to

concede that if one missile in an ICBM field was MIRVed, all

missiles in that field would have to be counted as MIRVed

because the United States could not differentiate between

what was in the different silos using national technical means.

However, at the same time, they wanted the Soviets to acquiesce

to a mobile-basing concept for the MX missile, where the survivability of US ICBMs would be enhanced precisely because

the Soviets would not know what was in a missile silo. It was,

as Soviet foreign minister Gromyko said, like a “ball of twine”

with each issue in the negotiations tied to other issues.119

Implications of SALT II

Unlike its predecessors, SALT II was never ratified by the

Senate, although both sides agreed to abide by its provisions

and the United States did so even into the first few years of the

Reagan Administration. Its demise in the Senate was due to a

combination of opposition within the broader defense community coupled with domestic politics and the negative linkages

that inevitably occurred when the Soviet Union invaded

Afghanistan in December of 1979. This section highlights the

shortcomings of the treaty, as well as the strengths of the treaty. 

The vocal, organized opposition to the terms of the treaty

was the single most important factor to its failure to pass.

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THE ROAD TO SALT
President Carter had been worried all along about getting support from Paul Nitze and Senator Jackson; in the end his

treaty was vigorously opposed by both men. In fact, the

Committee on the Present Danger was organized in 1976

specifically to watch over the SALT negotiations, and it used

its significant resources and influential supporters from government, industry, and organized labor to publicize what it

perceived to be the weaknesses of the treaty that was negotiated in 1979.120 The committee and other groups sought to get

the Senate Armed Services Committee (SASC) involved in the

ratification process, knowing that SASC member Senator

Jackson would be willing and able to highlight the shortcomings of the treaty in a way that the Senate Foreign Relations

Committee never would. A particularly convincing voice raised

in opposition to the treaty was that of then Lt Gen Edward L.

Rowny, the JCS representative on the SALT II negotiation

team in Geneva, who resigned in protest two weeks after

President Carter and General Secretary Brezhnev signed the

treaty. Rowny joined forces with the committee and others

who believed that SALT II would actually harm US security.

The major perceived problems were that SALT II had

• failed to reduce the threat that Soviet heavy ICBMs posed

to US ICBMs;

• prohibited mobile ICBMs which would be necessary to

ensure the survivability of US ICBMs;

• failed to achieve parity in throw weight;

• restricted US ability to develop a medium-heavy missile,

due to inclusion of only two throw-weight categories—

light and heavy;

• allowed the Soviets to encrypt some of the telemetry data

on missile tests that were essential to assess the technical capability of the missiles, particularly regarding the

number of MIRVs, yield, and accuracy;

• failed to count the Soviet Backfire bomber as a strategic

launch vehicle, leaving it as an unrestricted platform for

cruise missiles in the future;

• restricted cruise missiles, an area of US superiority; and

88

MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
• in conjunction with Carter’s stopping the B-1 bomber

and neutron bomb weapons, SALT II sapped the strength

of US security.

In support of SALT II, the treaty dealt with some of the difficult issues that SALT I had failed to address. The treaty

• included quantitative limits on the number of MIRVed

missile launchers, with sublimits on MIRVed ICBMs that

posed greatest threat to US ICBMs;

• included fractionation limits on the number of warheads

on MIRVed missiles which was significant given the Soviet

throw-weight advantage;

• finally defined a “heavy” missile;

• limited the development of new ICBMs;

• maintained the limit on the number of Soviet heavy

ICBMs; 

• reinforced the agreement that there would be no interference with NTMs; and

• banned heavy, mobile ICBMs that the Soviets were developing and would have been destabilizing to mutually

assured destruction.

But perhaps most important of all, it maintained a constant

channel for dialogue between the two superpowers, and provided for a degree of parity that reinforced the perceptions of

both the United States and the USSR that there was no advantage to be gained by a nuclear first strike.

Perhaps the greatest benefit of SALT II was, like its SALT I

and ABM predecessors, its contribution to reducing the likelihood of war between the United States and the USSR, by

engaging the two sides in negotiations that led to dialogue

rather than confrontation on arms control and other areas of

dispute. While SALT II included limits on total numbers of

strategic launchers and limits on total numbers of warheads,

it is not clear that these limits reduced the damages should a

war have occurred, primarily because those limits did not

entail any reduction in forces, but instead allowed both sides

to increase the number of nuclear weapons from their existing

levels. Its contribution to the goal of reducing the costs of

preparing for war are uncertain, as once again there seemed

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THE ROAD TO SALT
to be a buildup of certain defense programs—such as the cruise

missile, the MX missile, and the B-1 bomber—associated with

the treaty negotiations. SALT II was also invaluable in laying the

basis for later agreements in terms of verification procedures,

definitions, qualitative differentiation of weapons systems, and

many other highly technical details that were first tackled by the

SALT II negotiation teams. The SALT I and ABM treaties and the

SALT II agreement provided the basis upon which future arms

reductions agreements could and would be based.

Notes

1. John Newhouse, Cold Dawn: The Story of SALT (New York: Holt,

Rinehart, and Winston, 1973), 2.

2. Gerard Smith, Doubletalk: the Story of the First Strategic Arms

Limitations Talks (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1980), 19. The United States

had been considering an Army-proposed ballistic missile defense system for

several years, although there was significant opposition to the proposal

because of the assessment by some—like the President’s Science Advisory

Committee and Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara—that an ABM was

inconsistent with strategic stability. (See the National Security Archive at

www.gwu.edu. “Missile Defense Thirty Years Ago: Déjà Vu All Over Again?”

ed. by William Burr, 18 December 2000, document 1.) 

3. Raymond L. Garthoff, Détente and Confrontation: American-Soviet

Relations from Nixon to Reagan (Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution,

1994), 146; interview of Henry Kissinger for CNN’s “Cold War” series, episode

16, aired 7 February 1999. Transcripts for the Cold War series are available

at www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/coldwar/interviews/.

4. Smith, 21.

5. “Final Report to the Congress of Secretary of Defense Melvin R. Laird,”

January 1969–January 1973, 12. 

6. Ibid., 13–14.

7. Ibid., 17.

8. “A Statement by Secretary of Defense Melvin R. Laird, Fiscal Year 1971

Defense Program and Budget, before the House Subcommittee on

Department of Defense Appropriations,” 25 February 1970, 9–10.

9. Laird, Final Report, 16, 21.

10. Ibid., 35–36.

11. For brevity’s sake, I will refer to both the offensive and defensive

arms limitations negotiations as the SALT negotiations, since they were conducted concurrently and were not split into the separate SALT and ABM

agreements until late in the process.

12. “MEMORANDUM FOR THE PRESIDENT; Henry A. Kissinger;

Modified Sentinel System,” 5 March 1969, available in the National Security

Archives, “Missile Defense Thirty Years Ago,” doc. 4, at www.gwu.edu.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
13. Richard M. Nixon, The Real War (New York: Warner Books, 1980),

167–69.

14. Henry Kissinger, White House Years (New York: Little, Brown and Co.,

1979), 136. Quoting from Nixon memo to Secretary of State Rogers,

Secretary of Defense Laird, and director of the CIA Richard Helms on 4

February 1969.

15. Edward L. Rowny, It Takes One to Tango (London: Brassey’s, Inc.,

1992), 21.

16. Kissinger interview.

17. Garthoff, 153.

18. Smith, 32; Newhouse, 173.

19. Garthoff, 153; Kissinger, White House Years, 149–50.

20. Garthoff, 220, footnote 159.

21. Smith, 34–35.

22. Newhouse, 5.

23. Newhouse, 146–47, 178; William Burr, ed., The Kissinger Transcripts,

(New York: The New Press, 1998), 7–8.

24. Burr, 8.

25. Kissinger, White House Years, 540–44.

26. Melvin Laird, Memorandum, subject: FY73 Safeguard Program, 27

February 1972, available in the National Security Archives, “Missile Defense

Thirty Years Ago,” document 20, at www.gwu.edu. Document is now declassified.

27. Smith, 26.

28. Ibid., 154, 156. 

29. Newhouse, 41–42.

30. Smith, 30.

31. Ibid., 29.

32. Ibid., 27.

33. Kissinger, White House Years, 541–43; Newhouse, 176–78; and

Garthoff, 154–55. The Verification Panel was chaired by Kissinger and

included Under Secretary of State Elliott Richardson; Deputy Secretary of

Defense David Packard; chairman of the JCS, Adm Thomas Moorer; CIA

Director Richard Helms; ACDA Director and Chief SALT Negotiator Gerald

Smith; and Attorney General John Mitchell. See Newhouse, 178.

34. Kissinger, White House Years, 542; Garthoff, 154–55. Kissinger indicated that state’s first preference was for Option D; however, this author

included Garthoff’s recollection of his own agency’s position as Option C.

35. Kissinger, White House Years, 544.

36. Garthoff, 154–55.

37. Newhouse, 170.

38. Garthoff, 154.

39. Kissinger, White House Years, 541.

40. Ibid., 540; Garthoff, 154.

41. Kissinger, White House Years, 546.

42. Ibid., Newhouse, 180; Smith, 170.

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THE ROAD TO SALT
43. Garthoff, 157–58; Smith, 171–73.

44. Garthoff, 157–58; Smith, 171–73; Newhouse, 180–81.

45. Garthoff, 159, footnote 34.

46. Newhouse, 194–95.

47. Ibid., 195.

48. Smith, 225.

49. Ibid., 228; Garthoff, 180–81.

50. Garthoff, 181.

51. Smith, 320.

52. Garthoff, 183, 185.

53. Ibid., 187.

54. Smith, 372–75.

55. Garthoff, 193–94; Newhouse, 252; Smith, 417.

56. Garthoff, 216–17.

57. Burr, 219.

58. See, for example, Smith, 461.

59. Garthoff, 217.

60. Kissinger, White House Years, 550.

61. Annual Defense Department Report for FY 1976 and FY 1977,

Secretary of Defense James R. Schlesinger, I-10. 

62. Secretary of Defense FY1976 Report, I-5.

63. Annual Defense Department Report for FY 1977, Secretary of Defense

Donald H. Rumsfeld, ii–iii.

64. See Annual Defense Department Report for FY 1974 through FY 1977.

65. FY 1977 Annual Defense Department Report, iii–iv.

66. Nixon, 171.

67. Ibid., 173.

68. Strobe Talbott, Endgame: The Inside Story of SALT II (New York:

Harper & Row, 1979), 100.

69. Gerald Ford, interview for CNN’s “Cold War” series, episode 16, aired

7 February 1999. Transcripts for the “Cold War” series are available at

www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/coldwar/interviews/.

70. Jimmy Carter, Keeping Faith: Memoirs of a President (New York:

Bantam Books, 1982), 259–60.

71. Talbott, 24–25.

72. Nixon, 171.

73. Leslie Gelb, interview for CNN’s “Cold War” series, episode 19, aired

28 February 1999.

74. Burr, 125.

75. Rowny, 88.

76. Rowny, 90; Burr, 429; Garthoff, 881. Former National Security Advisor

Brent Scowcroft also noted the decisive role played by Secretary of Defense

Rumsfeld in a telephone interview conducted by Maj Charles Dusch, USAF,

on 15 July 2001.

77. Ford interview, 357.

78. Scowcroft interview, 15 July 2001; Garthoff, 599; Talbott, 37.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
79. Talbott, 37; Garthoff, 598–99.

80. Talbott, 50.

81. Ibid., 50.

82. Carter, 222, 239.

83. Zbigniew Brzezinski, Power and Principal (New York: Farrar, Straus,

Giroux, 1983), 316.

84. Brzezinski, 317.

85. Ibid.; Talbott, 146–47.

86. Garthoff, 887.

87. Ibid., 498–500. Also see Talbott, 33–35.

88. Garthoff, 598. 

89. Vance, 48; Talbott, 65.

90. Garthoff, 498; Rowny, 71.

91. Talbott, 61; Vance, 48.

92. Talbott, 61.

93. Rowny, 107–8.

94. Talbott, 183.

95. Garthoff, 901–2; Talbott, 183–86.

96. Talbott, 189.

97. Ford interview; Garthoff, 497.

98. Garthoff, 494.

99. Burr, 352.

100. Garthoff, 495–96.

101. Richard Dean Burns, ed., Encyclopedia of Arms Control and

Disarmament, vol. 2 (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1999), 900;

Garthoff, 497; Secretary of State Henry A. Kissinger, Vladivostok, 24

November 1974; Department of State Bulletin, 23 December 1974, 898–905.

Cited in Roger P. Labrie, ed., SALT Handbook: Key Documents and Issues,

1972–1979 (Washington, D.C.: American Enterprise Institute, 1979), 284.

102. Nixon, 172.

103. Encyclopedia, 900.

104. Garthoff, 498; Rowny, 71.

105. Garthoff, 501.

106. Background briefing of Secretary of State Henry A. Kissinger, 25

November 1974, in SALT Handbook, 288.

107. Press conference of Secretary of State Cyrus R. Vance, Department

of State Bulletin, 25 April 1977, 400–4, cited in SALT Handbook, 428.

108. Encyclopedia of Arms Control, 901; Vance press conference, in SALT

Handbook, 428–29.

109. Rowny, 104–5.

110. Garthoff, 889; Talbott, 72.

111. Remarks to the press by Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, Moscow,

31 March 1977. Soviet Embassy Information Department, News and Views

From the USSR in SALT Handbook, 435–42.

112. Brzezinski, 301–7.

113. Talbott, 124–28; Garthoff, 896.

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THE ROAD TO SALT
114. Talbott, 126.

115. Garthoff, 895–97.

116. Encyclopedia of Arms Control, 902.

117. Rowny, 122.

118. Talbott, 178–202; Rowny, 121–22.

119. Talbott, 212.

120. Rowny, 123.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Chapter 4

Strategic Arms Control and the US

Air Force: The SALT Era, 1969–80

Jeffrey A. Larsen

This chapter reviews the role of the United States Air Force

in making arms-control policy during the Strategic Arms

Limitation Treaty (SALT) era. It does this using a five-part

approach, examining in turn the international strategic setting of the 1970s (reviewing and highlighting the previous

chapter), the details of the strategic arms-control agreements

concluded during that decade, the competition between services over strategic acquisition programs, and the organization

of the Air Force for arms-control policy making. It then presents some themes regarding arms control and the Air Force

during this period. 

A note on methodology: Conducting historical research over

a period some 30 years ago, particularly when dealing with

issues of great sensitivity that were highly classified at the

time, is a challenging exercise. One ends up looking for traces

of evidence on the margins of the material rather than expecting to find direct evidence. For example, most books written on

the SALT negotiations deal with strategic-level issues, not

organizational considerations. The US Department of State

has published a comprehensive series of books detailing the

history of American foreign policy since the beginning of the

republic, but so far it only covers the years through 1968. The

Air Staff has not typically written unit histories, histories that

might prove quite helpful if they existed. As a result, one

resorts to first-hand accounts from interviews with participants of the era. But in many cases those memories and anecdotes are biased or faint, as most of the Air Force’s leaders

during the late 1960s and 1970s are now at least 75 years old. 

95
Setting the Stage: Strategic

Decisions and Programs, 1969–80

Reviewing the historical background of the period clearly

shows the close interrelationship between offensive forces,

defensive concepts, acquisition programs, and arms control.

Lyndon Johnson was still president of the United States when

our period of consideration began. During his final months in

office, the United States tested a new technology, multiple independently targetable re-entry vehicles (MIRV), on both intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBM) and submarine-launched

ballistic missiles (SLBM). A year later, under President Richard

Nixon, the request for proposal was released for a new manned

bomber—the B-1. The new president also announced his doctrine of strategic sufficiency and essential equivalence. Under

these strategic guidelines, the United States accepted the fact

that the Soviet Union had achieved parity—that is, reached a

level of strategic forces equivalent to those of the United

States—and abandoned its previous strategy of superiority in

nuclear arms and the means to deliver them. This opened a

window for arms control as a method of controlling the continued growth of Soviet strategic forces, a vital necessity now

that the United States had accepted essential equivalence and

had few new programs of its own under development.

In 1970 the United States began deploying MIRVs on its

existing Minuteman ICBM fleet. MIRVed warheads were seen

as a technological “fix” for matching the growing levels of

Soviet ICBM deployments, thereby maintaining parity without

having to build more missiles. To the great surprise and consternation of American strategists, however, the Soviets began

testing their own version of MIRVs in 1973.

In 1972 the United States and the USSR signed the SALT I

treaty in Moscow, agreeing to limit future offensive forces and

avoid defensive systems. That same year the United States promulgated National Security Decision Directive 242, which called

for a strategy of proportional deterrence, flexible targeting, and a

counterforce emphasis.1 Both the Trident submarine/missile

combination and the B-1 bomber were also approved for production in a package deal designed to show American strength

despite signing the SALT I treaty.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Studies on the MX (missile experimental) ICBM began in 1973,

as did the air-launched cruise missile (ALCM) program as part of

America’s continuing qualitative improvements to its strategic

forces. The first test flight of an air-launched Minuteman ICBM,

as well as the first prototype B-1 test flight, took place in 1974,

at about the same time that Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird

was warning Congress of a growing Soviet first-strike capability.

This fear, coupled with a desire to rein in Soviet growth, led to a

major breakthrough in the SALT II negotiations that fall, when

President Gerald Ford met with Soviet chairman Leonid

Brezhnev in Vladivostok. Their summit agreement set the

parameters for what would eventually become the SALT II treaty

five years later.

President Jimmy Carter came to Washington in 1977 with a

personal vision of achieving lasting arms-control agreements

with the Soviet Union and reducing the levels of strategic

nuclear weapons in the US arsenal. He cancelled the B-1

bomber program, at which time the State Department and the

Arms Control and Disarmament Agency (ACDA) recommended

that the United States move from a strategic Triad to a Dyad

(with land- and sea-based missiles only).2 At the same time, he

continued the research and development programs under way

for the ALCM (which had its first test flight in 1976, and held

a fly-off competition in 1979), the MX missile (which went

through multiple iterations of basing plans), and the Trident

submarine (the first Ohio-class boat was launched in 1979). 

The SALT II treaty was signed by the Untied States and

USSR in 1979. One year later, the president announced

Presidential Decision 59 that changed US policy to a countervailing strategy—essentially the same as under Nixon, but with

a new name. He also authorized the beginning of studies on

the stealth bomber and advanced cruise missile.

These years proved to be a golden era for arms control, with

a success rate (measured in terms of negotiations, agreements,

and treaties) not seen again until the Cold War was ending,

1989–1992. Half of the agreements during this period were the

direct result of the SALT negotiations that began in Helsinki

and Vienna in 1969. Those SALT-derived agreements are

highlighted in bold in table 2.3

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STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL 
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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL

Table 2

SALT-Derived Agreements

Year Agreement

1969 US unilateral ban on biological weapons and research

SALT talks begin

1971 Seabed Treaty

Nuclear War Risk Reduction Agreement

Hot Line Modernization Agreement

Zanger Committee created

1972 Biological Weapons Convention

Prevention of Incidents at Sea Treaty

Interim Offensive Agreement (SALT I Treaty) and ABM Treaty

Special Consultative Commission established

1973 Mutual and Balanced Force Reduction (MBFR) talks begin

Prevention of Nuclear War Agreement

Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe talks begin

1974 Threshold Test Ban Treaty

ABM Treaty Protocol

Vladivostok Agreement

1975 Helsinki Accords

NPT Review Conference

US ratifies 1925 Geneva Convention on chemical and biological warfare

1976 Peaceful Nuclear Explosions Treaty

US Arms Control Export Act

Chemical weapons talks begin

Military services begin providing ACDA with annual arms-control 

impact statements on strategic R&D programs

1977 Environmental Modification Treaty

Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty talks begin

Conventional Arms Transfer talks begin

Indian Ocean arms limitation talks begin

1978 Camp David Accords

US-Soviet antisatellite talks begin

1979 SALT II Treaty

NATO adopts dual track strategy on Intermediate Range

Nuclear Forces (INF)

1980 Convention on Physical Protection of Nuclear Material

Second NPT Review Conference
SALT I Negotiations and Treaty Details

The Strategic Arms Limitation Talks between the United

States and Soviet Union began in November 1969, alternating

between Helsinki and Vienna. The rationale for holding strategic negotiations at all has been summed up by Gerard Smith,

the chief negotiator of SALT I. He suggests that both sides

were reaching a level of strategic maturity, and both sides recognized that large arsenals of nuclear weapons were a wasting

asset. They also recognized that parity or sufficiency had been

achieved. The Soviets believed SALT was a way to prove that

they were the political and military equal to the United States,

thereby overcoming the embarrassment of the Cuban Missile

Crisis in 1962. In addition, President Nixon wanted to negotiate a zone of stability with the USSR (later called détente), and

thought that SALT would serve the cause of nonproliferation

by setting the example with limits between the superpowers.4

A US threat assessment conducted in 1969 drove a dualtrack policy in the early 1970s of simultaneously pursuing

arms control (leading to SALT and ABM) and new or accelerated strategic systems. President Nixon did not want to look

“soft” on defense issues. Accordingly, Secretary of Defense

Laird told the Senate in 1972 that he and the joint chiefs could

only support the SALT treaty if Congress approved new strategic systems. This was, in effect, a quid pro quo: Pentagon

opposition to arms-control limitations and restrictions on its

strategic forces would only be overcome by a new package of

strategic systems. The rationale for these new programs involved

matching Soviet research and development (R&D) efforts, providing an incentive to the Soviets and bargaining leverage to

the United States in future negotiations, and serving as a

hedge in case SALT failed to yield results.5

The treaty signed by President Nixon and Chairman

Brezhnev in May 1972 in Moscow consisted of two major

parts. The first, and the only part of the deal that was a legally

binding international treaty, was the Treaty on the Limitation

of Anti-Ballistic Missile Systems, commonly known as the

ABM Treaty. This was quickly ratified by the US Senate. It limited both parties to 100 ABM launchers at each of two sites

(later changed to one site by the 1974 ABM Treaty Protocol),

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STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL 
separated by 1,300 kilometers and defending only the national

capitals and one region of strategic value (such as an ICBM

field). It also limited the ability of either side to pursue

research and development efforts in ABM technology. The

United States chose to locate its one ABM system at Grand

Forks, North Dakota; the Soviets kept their operational site

near Moscow.

The second part of the treaty was an Interim Agreement on

Certain Measures with Respect to the Limitation of Strategic

Offensive Arms. This was the heart of the SALT I treaty, but it

was, in fact, an executive agreement that required no legislative concurrence during its five-year life. Both sides ostensibly

expected it to be formalized in a follow-on SALT II treaty before

the five years expired. The Interim Agreement limited the number of missile silos and submarine missile tubes to the levels

each side maintained in the summer of 1972, and prevented

either side from increasing its totals beyond those levels:

1,054 land-based silos and 710 SLBMs for the United States;

and 1,618 and 740 respectively for the USSR. The treaty also

restricted the total number of Soviet heavy ICBMs. The United

States was willing to accept this obvious numerical discrepancy between the two states because of its lead in MIRV technology, and because it wanted to stop further Soviet deployments. The treaty formalized the principle of verifying

compliance using national technical means (optical, thermal,

and electronic sensors on aircraft and satellites) and banned

either side from deliberately interfering with the other’s systems,

or of attempting concealment. This proved to be a real milestone

in arms-control agreements that reverberate to this day.

The US Air Force had little direct involvement in the SALT I

negotiations. With no previous arms-control experience upon

which to base its policy, the Air Force was generally content to

react to higher-level guidance from the political leadership.

The one key player was Maj Gen Royal Allison, USAF, who represented the Joint Chiefs of Staff on the SALT negotiating

team. But anecdotal evidence suggests that General Allison

was not particularly liked within the senior officer corps, and

that the Air Force may have sent him to the negotiations to

“get rid of him.”6 Later he was considered disloyal to his service

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
for having “given too much away” while serving as JCS representative to the SALT I negotiations.7 If the first part were true,

this would certainly indicate the low level of concern granted

the arms-control process by the corporate Air Force in this

first strategic session. And the second quote shows how dangerous an arms-control assignment can be for one’s career,

which in turn may have deterred other bright officers from

providing their expertise to this field. 

In the early 1970s, the Air Force was not organized with any

thought given to the central role that arms control would take

in the years ahead. What little thinking was being done on

arms-control issues took place in a couple of key offices. In

1971, for example, the Secretary of the Air Force had an office

of Deputy Under Secretary for International Affairs—a likely

place, one would think, for arms-control policy to be designed.

But the secretary was not involved in arms control during

SALT.8 In fact, that office was eliminated the next year. Under

the Chief of Staff Gen John Ryan, Maj Gen Glenn Kent was the

assistant chief for Studies and Analysis from 1971–73, and Lt

Gen George Eade was deputy chief for Plans and Operations.

Most arms-control-related issues fell within the purview of

Plans and Operations. General Kent, called in one book a

“maverick general,” was doing personal studies of strategic

exchanges and the impact of arms-control limits on force

structure, but these were not officially Air Force-assigned

tasks.9 According to General Kent, nobody ever officially asked

him for any studies to support Air Force positions on SALT I.10

Presumably there were some Air Force positions, but those

were blended with the other services’ desires at the Joint Staff

level and presented to the OSD SALT committee as generic

“uniformed military” inputs.

The bottom line, according to those who remember the SALT

I years, was that the Air Force was uncertain what this new

concept of arms control meant to them, and as such was not

particularly involved in helping establish the US negotiating

position. It was reactive, rather than proactive. The Air Force’s

only real interest seemed to be in protecting its force structure

at the highest possible levels so it could support Strategic Air

Command in achieving the Single Integrated Operations Plan. 

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In this regard the Air Force had the support of Secretary of

Defense Melvin Laird and the joint chiefs. In 1972 they presented to Congress the quid pro quo of arms control: unless

strategic modernization (in the form of the Trident submarine

and the B-1 bomber) was approved, they could not support the

SALT agreement. Not building these weapons, said Laird,

would “raise the white flag of surrender” to the Soviets.11 As

the chief SALT negotiator at the time has written about the

military’s opposition to MIRV limits, “while the military generally supported the arms-control process as represented by

SALT, they drew the line at setting qualitative as opposed to

quantitative limits on U.S. forces. They made this position

clear within the bureaucracy early on.”12

Strategic Acquisition Programs

of Interest to the Air Force in the 1970s

The United States was pursuing a number of strategic systems during the 1970s, most of which were of particular interest to the Air Force. We now review four of the largest and most

contentious programs, in terms of arms-control restrictions

and limits.

The B-1 Bomber

The goal of the B-1 program was to develop a manned strategic bomber that could do everything: high and low altitude,

supersonic and subsonic speeds, conventional and nuclear

weapons. It first flew in 1974, but was cancelled by President

Carter in 1977 when he selected B-52s with air-launched cruise

missiles as the preferred future air-delivery method.13

The program remained in minimal R&D status until it was

restored by President Reagan in 1981. A 1976 Air Force

Impact Statement submitted to ACDA said that the B-1 was

simply force modernization, rather than a new system, and as

such was fully permitted under the SALT I Interim Agreement.

SALT I did not limit bombers in any case, but the Air Force

promised that the B-1 fleet would fall within the aggregate

ceilings of the proposed SALT II.14

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
The MX Missile

Studies began on a follow-on ICBM for the Minuteman force

in 1973. The MX program raced toward development in the

1970s because some believed it could serve as a bargaining

chip in the SALT negotiations. This belief was held even among

members of the Air Staff, although as the program developed,

the Air Force decided it wanted the MX and needed to protect

it from arms-control restrictions.15

The MX posed a real arms-control dilemma: fixed silos

would make verification easier, but also increased its vulnerability; a mobile MX, on the other hand, while having enhanced

survivability, would create verification issues that might

irreparably harm the SALT II process. The 1976 Air Force

Impact Statement claimed that MX was consistent with SALT

I, which allowed R&D and technological improvements to the

missile force. It would also be designed to comply with SALT II

limits and restrictions on weight, size, and sublimit numbers. 

The Air-Launched Cruise Missile

The ALCM program began in 1973, with a first air-launch

test in 1976. The Air Force had never much liked the concept

of cruise missiles. They seemed to pose a threat to the organizational essence of the service by potentially eliminating the

need for a manned bomber. Yet paradoxically the Air Force

eventually came to accept and embrace ALCMs as one means

of ensuring the survival of the bomber fleet as a strategic

stand-off delivery platform for ALCMs.16

This turnaround in Air Force interest in ALCMs came as a

bit of a surprise to the political leadership. In January 1976,

for example, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger went to

Moscow for what was hoped would be the final negotiations

leading to a SALT II agreement, but the talks were scuttled by

Soviet opposition to the Pentagon’s new-found love for cruise

missiles.17 The 1976 Impact Statement to ACDA claimed that

ALCMs were allowed under SALT I, and that while SALT II was

actively considering ALCM limits, the missile development program would proceed anyway “with full cognizance of any

agreement reached in SALT II.” President Carter assured

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Congress that bombers armed with cruise missiles would not

be considered MIRVed systems under SALT.18

Trident Submarines

A Navy program, the Trident was of considerable interest to

the Air Force senior leadership because of its potential for

usurping what they considered to be a role rightfully theirs:

the delivery of strategic weapons to an enemy’s homeland. At

a minimum Trident’s cost could negatively impact the ongoing

Air Force programs outlined above. The first Ohio-class

Trident boat was launched in 1979, seven years after the program was approved.

In its 1976 Impact Statement to ACDA, the Navy pointed out

that while modernized submarines were limited by the SALT I

Interim Agreement, that agreement would expire in 1977,

thereby making the Trident’s first sea trials legal when they

happened in 1979. Furthermore, SSBN limits would be included

in the proposed SALT II aggregate ceiling.

SALT II Negotiations and Treaty Details

Strategic arms limitations reached a high-water mark in

1972 with the signing of SALT I. For several years the armscontrol process served as the focus and centerpiece of USSoviet relations. By the end of the decade, however, arms control would find itself relegated to the political sidelines as

political and technological trends led to the abandonment of

SALT II. But we are getting ahead of our story. 

Negotiations on a second SALT treaty to replace and formalize the interim agreement began almost immediately after

SALT I was signed in November 1972. This time the venue for

negotiations was Geneva. Negotiations got off to a slow start,

however, as the Soviets appeared unmotivated to continue the

SALT process and the United States administration was distracted by the Watergate scandal and the final years of the

Vietnam War.19 It took seven long years of arduous debate to

reach an agreement, but the SALT II Treaty was finally signed

in June 1979 by President Carter and Chairman Brezhnev.

The final treaty was based closely on an agreed framework

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
signed by President Ford and Brezhnev in 1974 during their

Vladivostok summit and affirmed at a 1977 meeting between

Secretary of State Cyrus Vance and Ambassador Andrei

Gromyko in Washington. 

The SALT II Treaty limited strategic delivery vehicles. It

included sublimits on various system types. The treaty was

never ratified by the US Senate. After heated debate in late

1979 that raised questions over whether it could ever be ratified, Carter withdrew the treaty from consideration in January

1980 to protest the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. But there

were additional factors that suggested difficulties in achieving

Senate confirmation: technical issues and verification problems; differing definitions of détente given Soviet adventurism

in Africa; growing US ICBM vulnerability as a result of Soviet

military growth during the 1970s; and the fact that the US

administration was distracted from arms-control issues by the

Iranian hostage crisis.20 Nevertheless, both sides continued to

abide by the treaty limits through reciprocal unilateral statements until 1986, when the strategic buildup under President

Reagan surpassed one of the warhead sublimits.

The SALT II Treaty created an overall ceiling for strategic

delivery systems and sublimits on specific delivery types. The

overall ceiling was 2,400 delivery systems (to be reduced to

2,250 within a couple of years). There were several nested sublimits: 1,320 total MIRVed ICBMs, SLBMs, and cruise-missile

carrying bombers; 1,200 ICBMs and SLBMs; and 820 ICBMs.

These sublimits gave some flexibility to each side as to how

they would structure their forces. One new type of ICBM was

allowed, with a maximum of 10 MIRVed warheads; the counting would be based on the maximum number of warheads

tested for each missile type. No new heavy ICBMs were

allowed. New SLBMs were limited to 14 MIRVed warheads. The

Soviet heavy SS-18 was limited to 10 MIRVed warheads. The

maximum number of ALCMs allowed on a bomber was 20. No

new missile silos could be built. The treaty would be in force

through 1985, and national technical means were still considered sacrosanct for verification of the other side’s compliance

with the treaty provisions. Encryption of test results was

banned to enhance verification. Both sides agreed to contribute

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STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL 
to a database that would be kept at the Standing Consultative

Committee (SCC) and updated regularly. Finally, the two parties issued a joint statement that they were deferring several

difficult questions involving mobile systems, cruise missile

ranges, and future force reductions.21

US Air Force Role in SALT II

The Air Force was considerably more involved in SALT II

than it was in SALT I. By the mid-1970s Headquarters USAF

had established an office that dealt with arms-control-related

issues. In1976 the director of Air Force Studies and Analysis

(AFSAA) was Maj Gen Jasper Welch. Though sometimes at the

request of XO, the only organization doing any significant

studies on arms-control-related issues was AFSAA. These

included reviews of missile throw weight, the effect of armscontrol limits on first-strike survivability, the impact on US

forces of Soviet MIRVs, MX basing options, and so on.22

In 1978 the Air Staff underwent a major reorganization.23

Gen Lew Allen replaced David Jones as chief of staff; Jones

moved on to become chairman of the Joint Chiefs (CJCS). For

a few months he held both posts simultaneously, during

which time one of his staff officers for arms control remembers

receiving Air Staff papers on SALT and handing them directly

to General Jones for his consideration. Jones believed he was

representing the Air Force when he made a decision or took a

position as CJCS.24 The new Air Staff organization included a

deputy chief of staff (DCS) for Programs and Analysis, beneath

which sat General Welch’s Concepts and Analysis office. In

mid-1978 the executive secretary of the SALT delegation was

replaced on an interim basis by Air Force Maj Gen John

Ralph; at the same time, the deputy commissioner of the US

component of the Special Consultative Commission was Air

Force Brig Gen Harry Goodall.25 Within XO there was a small

office dealing with International Affairs (AF/XOXXI, the forerunner of today’s AF/XONP), headed up by Col Frank Jenkins,

which dealt with arms-control matters. According to Jenkins,

there were only three officers in his shop authorized to see the

compartmentalized SALT papers; one of those was Maj (future

Gen and CINCSAC) Lee Butler.26 Within the chief’s staff group

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Lt Col (future assistant secretary of defense for policy) Ted

Warner handled SALT papers and issues for General Allen. 

The Joint Chiefs of Staff realized that they had to walk a fine

line when dealing with the military services. It used the offices

of J-5 (and later, during the START era, the newly created J-8)

to develop trusting relationships with the services, including

the Air Force, by conducting studies such as military sufficiency analyses with service inputs. This allowed the JCS staff

to create better rapport with its service counterparts, which in

turn led to closer agreement in other arenas, including armscontrol negotiating positions.27

In the final SALT year, 1979, the Air Staff made a few additional minor organizational changes. Studies and Analysis,

still under the direction of General Welch, was restored to its

former level of assistant to the chief of staff, thus symbolically

elevating the importance of arms control within the Air Staff.

The military SALT apparatus was two sided, as figure 1

shows.28 “Pentagon” policy was developed in parallel by the

joint chiefs and the secretary of defense. Air Force inputs nominally went up the chain through the JCS and eventually

became JCS inputs to its representative on the negotiating

team. But this was just one of many such representatives, and

the chief negotiator had multiple such inputs to consider as he

developed America’s position in the talks. During SALT I the

JCS focal point for arms control, the SALT office, reported

directly to the chairman. But after 1973 that office was moved

to the J-5 Directorate, where its voice was muted by the time

it got to the chairman. Examples of personnel in these offices

include Paul Nitze, who was the OSD representative to the

SALT Delegation during the Nixon years, Michael May, who

replaced him under President Ford, and Walter Slocombe during the Carter presidency. Major General Allison, USAF, held

the JCS representative’s slot for SALT I, and Lt Gen Edward

Rowney, US Army, during SALT II.29 Air Force Brig Gen

William Georgi served as the chief of the international negotiations branch of J5 from 1972–75. That position was again

held by the Air Force when Brig Gen Harry Goodall took over

in April 1978.30

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STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL 
Rather than providing a united Pentagon front to the interagency process, occasionally the two views that came out of

these parallel processes were at odds with one another, particularly during SALT I when the process shown in figure 1

was still under development. The establishment of the formal

approach shown above did dampen such differences during

the SALT II negotiations.31

According to Air Force Lt Gen Brent Scowcroft, who served as

national security advisor to President Gerald Ford, it was hard

to separate the Air Force’s position from the consolidated

Department of Defense position that he saw when it came to the

White House. As an example, he relates that the two key issues

that took up most of his time during his tenure in the National

Security Council (NSC) involved the role of cruise missiles and

the Soviet Backfire bomber. Despite the amount of time he spent

on these military topics, he had no idea what the corporate Air

Force thought of either one of them.32

Given renewed fears of Soviet capabilities and attitudes in

the late 1970s, as evidenced by the Soviet invasion of

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL

Chairman,

Joint Chiefs

of Staff

Secretary

of Defense

Director,

Joint Staff

Deputy

Secretary

of Defense

J-5

JCS Rep

on SALT

Delegation

International

Negotiations

Branch

Deputy SCC

Commissioner

SALT office

Inputs from:

Services

DIA

Other Joint Staff

International

Security Affairs

OSD

on SALT

Delegation

Director, DOD

SALT Task Force

Inputs from:

PA&E, Strategic Planning

& Arms Limitation Branch

DDR&E

DIA

Other

Figure 1. US Military SALT Apparatus, 1976–78
Afghanistan in 1979, several strategic systems were saved

from extermination in the early 1980s under Presidents Carter

and Reagan. These included the MX and the B-1, which

returned from purgatory to full development, and the beginnings of two new stealth programs that would eventually lead

to the B-2 bomber and advanced cruise missile. Even Gen

David Jones, who supported the SALT concept in general and

President Jimmy Carter’s agenda in particular, expressed

“deep reservations” about supporting SALT without a mobile

MX system.33 Arms control also became more important during the Reagan years as a counter to the arms buildup; as

such, the role of arms-control policy making within the Air

Staff grew, as did the number of trusted agents.34

Arms Control and the US Air Force: Themes from the

SALT Era

Most observers of the SALT era believe that to the Air Force

arms control did not involve an arms-control process, per se—

rather, it was a process of protecting the Air Force from arms

control. That attitude underlies most of the themes that follow

as we analyze how the Air Force reacted to the new concept of

negotiated arms limitations, and then adapted to the realization that it needed to be more proactive in the process that

was developing despite its wishes.

SALT I was a new game. The SALT process that began in

the late 1960s seems to have caught the Air Force off guard.

There was little corporate Air Force involvement in SALT I, and

what little there was took place at the highest levels, behind

tight security and with a close-hold mentality regarding the

positions that were developed.

Since SALT I did not address strategic bombers, and since

ICBM deployments had been halted by Secretary of Defense

Robert McNamara in the mid-1960s, the Air Force had little

concern or interest in the negotiations. Certain individuals

were interested in the process and doing personal studies, but

there was little corporate attention given to SALT. 

SALT II included a broader cast of characters. With

SALT I completed, and SALT II taking a more comprehensive

approach to strategic systems, the Air Force became more

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STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL 
interested and involved. The process was still compartmentalized, close-hold, and involved only a few trusted agents on the

Air Staff, but the planning and policy papers were being developed at a deeper level within the Air Force bureaucracy than

was the case in SALT I. The work done in XOXXI, for example,

was accomplished by the three approved “SALTers” who dealt

directly with the chief of staff; there were no two or three star

intermediaries unless they were personally approved by the

chief as trusted agents.35 The process fell outside of the normal staff officer chain of command.

The chief’s staff group also had a key role in developing the

Air Force position on SALT issues. The final “Air Force” position was personally made by the chief of staff, with inputs

from a small group of advisors. Both General Jones and

General Allen believed that SALT II was the right thing for the

country to do, so the Air Force officially supported the negotiations and treaty outcomes, despite a widespread concern

with arms control among the officer corps.36

The Air Force’s goal in both negotiations was to protect

the existing and planned force structure. “Protect ours,

limit theirs” went the mantra. The Air Force seemed to go

along for the ride when it came to arms control, never taking

the lead within the interagency process, or even within JCS,

on SALT I or II. As one participant from the era put it, “The Air

Force only got involved when it had an ox about to be gored.”37

The corporate position was to prevent any agreement that

impinged on the Air Force’s ability to fight or deter—which

meant most arms-control deals. It also wanted to protect its

share of the strategic Triad, and keep those capabilities from

moving into the Navy’s hands. 

The Air Force was juggling multiple concerns, of which

arms control was just one. Echoing the previous theme, the

Air Staff was indeed busy during this period. It was trying to

keep enough MIRVs for the ICBM force and develop the B-1

bomber, and to protect MX basing plans.

The Air Force always wanted a new heavy bomber and landbased ICBMs, so it was willing to fight to protect those against

either enemy—arms-control negotiations or the US Navy. This

meant occasionally going against the political desires of the

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
JCS and higher levels, some of whom wanted to reach an

agreement with the Soviet Union despite any Air Force concerns or position. 

The Air Force worked the unofficial interagency process

more than it does today to protect its systems. Otherwise

known as lobbying, whether legal or not, this was commonly

done in the 1970s. The military services were not directly

involved in the interagency policy-making process. Their inputs

were supposed to be incorporated into a common Defense

Department position.

That process often meant that the Air Force’s specific concerns were lost or watered down to the point of inconsequence.

As a result, for example, to protect the MX missile during SALT

II, senior Air Force leaders held regular informative meetings

with Congressional members, National Security Council staffers,

ACDA, and the State Department. These were all quiet, behindthe-scenes get-togethers. Such meetings allowed the Air Force

to get its positions considered via back doors to these agencies,

rather than solely through a consensual compromise JCS joint

position paper.38 Such a system required senior officers who

understood how the process worked and were willing to allow

their staffs to do this sort of outreach.39

There was no coordinated Air Force input to the armscontrol process in the 1970s. Particularly during the late

1960s and early 1970s, the Air Force did not fight very

strongly for its beliefs, because it had not identified what those

beliefs or equities were. There was no real policy focus within

the Air Staff that could effectively deal with such issues, and

no section or division within the Air Staff devoted to arms control.40 The responsibility for dealing with arms control fell within

the strategic planning or acquisition directorates, rather than

programs or operations. As a result, the Air Force’s inputs to

the JCS were “not all that important,” according to a former

executive officer to a JCS chairman—at a time when both were

Air Force general officers.41 And this was during SALT II, when

the Air Force was more motivated than it had been in SALT I,

yet it still did not have an organized process to get its core

interests in front of the negotiating team. Instead, whatever

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papers it wrote ended up going through the joint process and

lost whatever service-specific focus they may have had.

The Air Force ended up reacting to arms-control initiatives,

rather than developing them. According to another participant, the Air Force’s attitude seemed to be characterized by

the belief that “we’ve got enough to worry about without worrying about arms control, too—it may be important, but it’s

not our job; let someone else think about that and we’ll accept

the decisions and then react to them at a later time.”42 Or as

one participant put it, in those days the attitude was that “real

men don’t eat quiche—or do arms control.”43

Air Force arms-control policy was developed by a small

group of analysts reporting to the chief of staff. The nexus

of arms-control thinking and policy development in the 1970s

can be located in a few specific offices. These included

• Air Force Studies and Analysis (AFSAA);

• Air Force International Affairs (AF/XOXXI);

• Air Force Concepts (AF/XOC);

• Air Force Intelligence (AF/IN);

• Air Force Chief of Staff’s Staff Group; and

• (sometimes) Air Force research, development, and engineering (DDRE), and acquisition (AF/AQ).

The Secretary of the Air Force had little involvement in

arms-control matters, preferring to leave those to the JCS and

OSD.44 Nor was Strategic Air Command involved in the SALT

years. It left the studies and negotiations to the joint chiefs,

and in the late 1970s, at least, the commander in chief,

Strategic Air Command (CINCSAC) was receiving quarterly

update briefings from XOXXI. SAC simply wanted to have

enough bombers and missiles to accomplish the SIOP; it didn’t

have to worry directly about acquiring those forces—that was

the service’s responsibility. The Air Force recognized those

needs and agreed with them, so it took the lead (such as it

was) for SAC in the arms-control realm. As Forrest Waller

points out in chapter 7, that role changed dramatically during

the START talks in the 1980s, as SAC became much more

invigorated and involved in the development of American

arms-control policy.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Conclusion

The Air Force role in arms-control policy development grew

during the 1970s along with its enhanced recognition of the

importance of that process and the potential consequences of

a reactive posture. Whereas there was very little involvement

by the corporate Air Force during SALT I negotiations, and

that only at the very highest levels, by START II the increasingly widespread role for Air Staff officers hinted at the degree

to which the Air Force would eventually make arms-control

policy development, negotiating strategy, and treaty implementation a central focus of its operations. But that perspective was still to come in the late 1960s and 1970s when the

organization found itself facing a new “enemy”: political leaders of its own country who were voluntarily negotiating away

Air Force strategic forces in a conference room in Europe. The

Air Force’s strategic culture, its view of self, had difficulty

accepting that premise, and it took years before coming to

grips with it and establishing the necessary structure to best

deal with this new process. 

Notes

1. Fen Osler Hampson, Unguided Missiles: How America Buys Its

Weapons (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1989), 118–19.

2. Ibid., 170.

3. For more on these treaties, see Jeffrey A. Larsen and James M. Smith,

Historical Dictionary of Arms Control and Disarmament (Lanham, Md.:

Scarecrow Press, forthcoming); also Gerard C. Smith, Disarming Diplomat:

The Memoirs of Gerard C. Smith, Arms Control Negotiator (Lanham, Md.:

Madison Books, 1996), 174–75.

4. Smith, 150–52.

5. Hampson, 292; also Strobe Talbott, Endgame: The Inside Story of SALT

II (New York: Harper & Row, 1979). 

6. Maj Gen Glenn Kent, USAF, retired, Arlington, Va., interviewed by

author, 14 June 2001. 

7. Col Frank Dellerman, USAF, retired, The Pentagon, interviewed by

author, 13 June 2001.

8. Multiple interviews, June 2001.

9. Hampson. An example of these studies can be found in a paper published after General Kent retired. See Glenn A. Kent with Randall J. DeValk

and Edward L. Warner III, A New Approach to Arms Control (Santa Monica,

Calif.: RAND Corp., June 1984).

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10. Kent interview. General Kent did special studies on alternative missile limit scenarios for Paul Nitze, but in doing these he was not representing the Air Force. General Kent admits that his primary agenda as director

of AFSAA during SALT I was to point out that arms control was wrong if it

limited the number of ICBM launchers but not the size of the missiles.

11. Nick Kotz, Wild Blue Yonder: Money, Politics, and the B-1 Bomber

(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1988), 105.

12. Smith, 167.

13. Kotz.

14. Excerpted in Arms Control Today, late 1976. 

15. Hampson and Col Ken Van Dillen, USAF, retired, McLean, Va., interviewed by author, 12 June 2001. 

16. Hampson, 180; and Kotz, 163. For more on the concept of organizational essence, see Morton Halperin, Bureaucratic Politics and Foreign Policy

(Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1974). 

17. Lt Gen Brent Scowcroft, USAF, retired, Washington, D.C., telephone

interview by author, 3 August 2001.

18. Hampson, 192.

19. Thomas W. Wolfe, The SALT Experience (Cambridge, Mass.: Ballinger

Publishing, 1979).

20. Smith, Talbott. 

21. Treaty details from Arms Control and Disarmament Agreements

(Washington, D.C.: US Arms Control and Disarmament Agency, 1996). 

22. Col Frank Jenkins, USAF, retired, McLean, Va., interviewed by

author, 12 June 2001. 

23. “Highlights of USAF Departmental Headquarters Realignments,” Air

Force Magazine, June 1978, 32–33.

24. Col Michael Wheeler, USAF, retired, McLean, Va., interviewed by

author, 12 June 2001.

25. Names from Wolfe, The SALT Experience, 307–9 notes, and interviews

June 2001. 

26. Jenkins interview.

27. Wheeler interview. 

28. Chart recreated from Wolfe, chap. 2, “Institutional Setting of the

SALT Process: The U.S. Side,” 41. It is representative of how the process was

organized within the Defense Department in the later SALT period. Notice

how small the Air Force input appears—it is lumped under “Service Inputs”

in the bottom box on the JCS side. 

29. Wolfe, 306. Interviews with participants of that period pointed out

that General Rowney’s reputation among those who worked with him during SALT II was much like General Allison’s in SALT I: poor. 

30. Wolfe, 35.

31. Ibid., 42.

32. Scowcroft interview. 

33. Hampson, 127.

34. Wheeler interview. 

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
35. Jenkins interview. Later, of course, that situation changed. As the

corporate Air Force became more interested and involved with the development of US arms-control policy in the 1980s, more of the intermediate

three-star directors became engrossed in the details of arms control, as well. 

36. Lt Col Ted Warner, USAF, retired, Arlington, Va., interviewed by

author, 14 June 2001. 

37. Kent interview.

38. A good example of this type of lobbying can be found in the discussion over Gen James McCarthy’s role in persuading congressmen of the B-1’s

value to their districts in Kotz, Wild Blue Yonder, 20–22.

39. Jenkins interview.

40. Kent interview. Others interviewed for this chapter believed that

there “must have been” some process or paper flow up through AF/XO to

the JCS for SALT I, but no one could recall any specifics that would verify

that process until XOXXI was created in the early 1970s for SALT II. 

41. Maj Gen Pete Todd, USAF, retired, Colorado Springs, Colo., interviewed by author, 6 June 2001.

42. Warner interview. 

43. Dellerman interview.

44. Multiple interviews, including Warner and Todd.

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PART III

The Reagan Years, 1981–88

Chapter 5

Arms Control during

the Reagan Administration

Charles D. Dusch Jr.

Ronald Wilson Reagan became the 40th president of the

United States at one of the more dangerous periods in

American-Soviet relations. The nation faced an aggressive

Soviet Union with an increasingly lethal strategic nuclear arsenal. But Reagan’s optimism in the inevitable triumph of democracy over an inherently evil and corrupt empire was unflagging.

His was a vision for America that reflected his confidence in her

people and his abhorrence of nuclear war, which would come to

be reflected in his approach to arms control. One of Reagan’s

major foreign policy themes of the 1980 presidential campaign

would directly influence US arms-control efforts—the consequences of losing military superiority to the Soviet Union.

The chief defense issue for Reagan was his conviction that

the United States had lost military superiority to the Soviet

Union. The new president felt that Moscow had used détente

to advance its global strategic interests while America unilaterally disarmed. His major strategic focus would be to reverse

this perceived “window of vulnerability” that characterized USSoviet relations, and move the United States from a position of

weakness to strength. In August 1980, Reagan summarized

his approach to arms-control talks with the Soviet Union: 

I think continued negotiation with the Soviet Union is essential. We

need never be afraid to negotiate as long as we keep our long-term

objectives (the pursuit of peace for one) clearly in mind and don’t seek

agreements just for the sake of having an agreement. It is important,

also, that the Soviets know we are going about the business of building up our defense capability pending an agreement by both sides to

limit various kinds of weapons.1

The purpose of this chapter is to review the strategic context

and the arms-control climate of the day, appraising the threat

119
the Soviet Union posed, their approach to arms control, and

the Reagan Administration’s strategy in dealing with them. It

examines the Reagan Administration’s approach to arms control and its desired objectives. Although there were many talks

with the Soviets at that time, from space to conventional

forces, our primary focus is on the Strategic Arms Reduction

Treaty (START) and Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF)

discussions. These two areas are central to the principal concern

of the period—imminent nuclear war between the superpowers—

that was perceived to be a very real and plausible threat in the

early 1980s. It also examines the negotiating strategy of the

US negotiating team and the difficulties and solutions encountered by them. Finally, it sums up the achievements and consequences from those negotiations.

The Threat: The Union of

Soviet Socialist Republics

When President Reagan took the oath of office on 20 January

1981, General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev had led the Soviet

Union since 1964. In his 18 years of power, Brezhnev had

driven the Soviet Union to accumulate an enormous nuclear

arsenal. The USSR had surpassed the United States in both

steel output and oil production. The living standards of the

Soviet people had actually improved in his first 12 years of

power.2 Under the guise of the Brezhnev Doctrine, the Soviet

Union was expanding its influence around the world. Although

initially applicable only to Eastern Europe, the Brezhnev

Doctrine claimed the right to expand Soviet influence of

“national liberation” while simultaneously claiming the right to

keep what they had gained. Essentially, it stated that communism was irreversible, and once a nation had become socialist,

it was not again to be surrendered to “counterrevolution.”3

In the 1970s, the global situation had begun to change.

Détente marked the relationship between the superpowers.

According to John L. Gaddis, the 1970s witnessed “the most

substantial reduction in American military capabilities relative

to those of the Soviet Union in the entire postwar period.”4

While the United States exercised unilateral restraint over

its strategic forces under détente, the USSR had continued

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
producing new generations of missiles, bombers, and submarines, outspending the Americans two-to-one overall, and

seven-to-one on ballistic missiles.5 These included two new

ICBMs built in violation of the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks

II (SALT II), the mobile SS-24 ICBM with 10 warheads and the

“heavy” SS-25, also mobile. A steady increase in the numbers

of Soviet MIRVs (by a factor of four) and in missile capability

(with the SS-18 Mod 5 and 6) continued.6 The Soviets developed

new supersonic Blackjack and Backfire strategic bombers. A

large, phased-array radar constructed at Krasnoyarsk, coupled

with ABM-related tests of surface-to-air missile components,

revealed the Soviets were developing a national ABM defense

in violation of the ABM Treaty, a violation they would later

admit. 7 It was also revealed that the Soviets were building

their own Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) program.8

More alarmingly, the Soviets appeared to be preparing to

fight and win a nuclear war. In speeches to the Russian people, Secretary Brezhnev and members of the Soviet military

leadership spoke of nuclear war in terms of “victory will be on

the side of world socialism” and “the attainment of victory.”9 In

a meeting of communist leaders in 1973, Brezhnev declared

that détente was a stratagem to allow the USSR to strengthen

its military so that by 1985 they could exert their will on a

global stage.10 With a superiority of strategic nuclear weapons,

the Soviet Union would never again be faced down by the

Americans as they were in the Cuban Missile Crisis.11 The

Soviet approach to arms-control negotiations unquestionably

reflected this growing confidence.

The Initial Soviet Approach to Arms Control

The Soviet approach to arms control was designed to

achieve both general national and specific objectives. These

general national objectives included

1. legitimacy for the Soviet political system and rule by the

Communist Party—including the recognition of the partition of Europe, 

2. expansion and enhancement of Soviet global influence,

3. defense of the Soviet Union,

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4. domination of the land and sea adjacent to Soviet borders,

5. protection of planned Soviet force modernization and

developments,

6. constraint and reduction of US and Western forces,

7. fragmentation of NATO and separation of the United

States from its global friends and allies, and

8. undermining support in the West for defense and hamstringing Western military programs.12

The more specific objectives included

1. stability and parity in the US-Soviet military competition

at the strategic nuclear level,

2. Soviet hegemony in Europe at the theater level,

3. preventing the United States from acquiring unilateral

strategic advantages over the Soviet Union, and

4. preserving as much of the SALT II framework as possible.13

Later, in the course of negotiations with the United States,

additional objectives would be inserted into Soviet arms-control

strategy and would achieve more prominence. In particular, a

key Soviet objective in 1984 became the prevention of an arms

race in space (or more accurately, preventing the United

States from joining the Soviet arms race in space with their

own SDI program).14

Noticeable by its absence in the list of Soviet priorities is the

reduction in militarily significant numbers of nuclear weapons.

In fact, early Soviet proposals allowed an increase in the number

of Soviet weapons (but not in the number of US weapons). Not

until Gorbachev came to power would the Soviets accept the

principle of deep cuts in strategic weapons in response to

President Reagan’s SDI program and policy of seeking deep cuts.

Numbers of weapons were not related to strategic stability.

One should note that the Soviet view of stability was associated primarily along political lines. The Soviets believed that a

situation was stable when their own military had confidence in

its ability to execute assigned functions and could compensate

for external or internal factors that might affect war plans.

Arms control could therefore make significant contributions to

stabilizing the threat environment for planning purposes. A

threat constrained by arms-control agreement was more

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
predictable and considered more stable. Any change in the

strategic environment, and especially changes in the threat,

compromised Soviet abilities to plan with confidence and

therefore was inherently destabilizing. Although the Soviets

never published a list of destabilizing weapons, one can reconstruct a list of those weapon systems based on public statements defending Moscow’s positions. According to those statements, the following features characterized destabilizing

weapons:

1. Their approach could not be detected with adequate

warning time.

2. They could hit targets with great precision (ergo, hardened targets).

3. There were few countermeasures against them and they

were difficult to defend against.

4. The Soviet military could not easily preempt them (they

had highly inherent pre-launch survivability).

5. They lacked secure central control and hence were prone

to accidents or unauthorized use.

6. The United States was ahead of the USSR technologically

in a given weapon system development.

This view labels as destabilizing precisely those weapons the

United States considered as stabilizing—for instance bomberdelivered weapons such as cruise missiles. The Americans did

not consider them as first-strike weapons since their time of

flight was so long, they had to penetrate sophisticated Soviet

air defenses, and their launch platforms could be recalled in

flight. But as Soviet negotiators insisted, “The cruise missile is

a very tricky weapon. I would even say it is the most destabilizing weapon . . . because it is low-flying. It cannot be seen by

radar. It can hit the target with great accuracy.”15

The Soviets had no formally developed theory of arms control or a bureaucracy whose sole purpose was advocating

arms control as an adjunct to its foreign and defense policies,

as did the United States and its Arms Control and

Disarmament Agency (ACDA). Consequently, Soviet armscontrol objectives were not as conceptually elaborate or as well

articulated as were US arms-control priorities.16 On top of this

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fact, the deaths of four Soviet leaders in rapid succession, and

the political impact that had on the Soviet bureaucracy, made

meaningful arms-control negotiations difficult for the first

term of the Reagan Administration.

Two dimensions of the Soviet approach to arms control—the

political and the military—were especially crucial to understanding Soviet arms-control policy, and START in particular.

At least three basic considerations probably influenced Soviet

political assessments of arms control: the traditional function

of arms-control diplomacy in Soviet foreign policy, the Soviet

concept of strategic stability, and the Soviet attitude toward

international treaty commitments. The latter Soviet attitude

was influenced by at least three factors. In terms of international law, the Soviets were strict constructionists who

believed that whatever was not specifically prohibited by the

agreement was allowed. Depending on the needs of the

moment, the “spirit” of the agreement would be short-lived. In

addition, a major asymmetry existed between the United

States and the Soviet Union in that there was no internal constituency within the USSR to ensure compliance. The Soviet

bureaucracy, not accountable to the electorate for their

actions, assigned arms-control compliance a low priority.

Finally, the Soviets approached each agreement with an eye

toward “options for evasive compliance.”17 Because of this attitude of using arms control as a means to gain an advantage,

the Soviets made sure that the text accurately reflected the

negotiation record.18

The Soviet military factor included three aspects in armscontrol compliance; first, Soviet political-military doctrine

which called for deterring war by being prepared to wage it

successfully at all levels of conflict; second, Soviet operational

targeting requirements to ensure they could preemptively

destroy an adversary’s nuclear forces; third, to sustain the

momentum of the Soviet nuclear force modernization programs. Therefore, the Soviet military played a central role in

Soviet negotiating policy.19 As Secretary of State George P.

Shultz pointed out, when Marshal Sergei Akhromeyev, the

equivalent of our chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, showed

up at the negotiations, the American delegation knew the

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Soviets were “serious and whatever we agree to, that’s going to

stick because the military is clearly represented.”20

From the earliest days of the Reagan Administration, the

Soviets waged a vitriolic propaganda campaign against several

key policies in an effort to justify the existing balance of forces,

as well as Moscow’s own peculiar perspective on the meaning

of strategic parity.21 This campaign was in response to the

Reagan Administration’s Four-Part Agenda, discussed in the

next section. The propaganda campaign intended to bring

maximum pressure to bear against the US strategic modernization program and to fragment and weaken the moral and

political resolve of the NATO alliance, especially the deployment of Pershing II and ground-launched cruise missiles

(GLCM) to Europe. A growing nuclear freeze movement was

gaining momentum in the West as expectations and fears of a

nuclear war increased.22 By portraying President Reagan’s

policies as destabilizing and leading the superpowers toward

nuclear war, the Soviet propaganda machine hoped to derail

Reagan’s key programs. Underlying much of the Soviet attack

was the fear that the strategic modernization program would

lead to a leap in technological superiority by the United States.

The degree to which Soviet actions in START were motivated

by Soviet fear of perceived American technological superiority

should not be underestimated, although they were always

careful to avoid explicitly acknowledging this superiority.23

Secretary Shultz played on this fear by detailing for General

Secretary Gorbachev how the world was about to radically

change with computer and information technology. If the

Soviet Union did not also change, it would be left far behind.24

The Reagan Strategy: Beyond Containment

Throughout President Reagan’s speeches and writings, he

reiterated that the main goal of the US Cold War policy should

be to expedite the fall of communism. Because communism

suppressed economic, political, and social freedoms contrary

to the needs and desires of mankind, he argued, communism

had laid the groundwork for its own destruction and could not

possibly survive. Reagan saw the first step toward accelerating

the fall of the Soviet Union as distinguishing the symptoms of

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the Cold War from its sources. In this respect, Reagan viewed

the arms race as a symptom of the Cold War, and thus concluded that arms-control negotiations would neither end the

Cold War nor improve relations with the Soviet Union. The

only reason to sign an arms-control treaty would be if the

treaty enhanced the security interests of the United States.

Reagan also believed that after a treaty was signed, the United

States needed to increase its vigilance because the causes of

the Cold War, the policies of the Soviet Union, remained.25

One might conclude that because communism was flawed,

the West merely had to “hang on” throughout the Cold War and

watch communism collapse. Although Reagan did think communism would not survive, he did not think Cold War victory

inevitable in the short-term. Reagan believed American leaders

had failed to properly situate the arms race into the overall context of the Cold War. They had ignored the Soviet buildup and

aggression, and there were only two choices for the superpowers in the Cold War: surrender or victory. For America to achieve

victory, her leaders had to understand what was required to

achieve it as well as have the courage to do whatever was necessary for the United States to emerge victorious.26

Reagan’s strategy, therefore, was to move the United States

beyond the old Cold War policy of containment. His was an

aggressive plan to roll back the gains the USSR made during

the 1970s. Reagan was convinced that a stratagem of strategic defense modernization—backed by US resolve—would lead

the Soviet hierarchy to conclude that it had no alternative but

to come to terms with the United States.27

On the political front, the Reagan Administration developed

what came to be known as the “Four-Part Agenda.” This outlined a broad agenda that confronted the USSR where it was

most vulnerable and put the initiative back into the hands of

the United States. The Four-Part Agenda addressed human

rights, regional issues, arms control, as well as bilateral issues.

This agenda allowed the Reagan Administration to meet the

Soviets head-on without increasing the risk of war and acted

as an assertive counterbalance to the strategic modernization

program. Positive movement by the Soviets in these four areas

would be an indicator that they were serious about meaningful

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contacts with the United States. That is why the Reagan

Administration gave priority to Soviet behavior, focusing on

regional conflicts rather than arms control.28

A popular misconception in the West was that Reagan was

recklessly leading the country down the path toward nuclear

war. This was based in part on Reagan’s insistence on rebuilding America’s strategic arsenal as well as his straightforward

rhetoric towards Soviet aggression. Nuclear war was in the

forefront of popular culture, portraying the president as a cowboy ready to push the nuclear “button.” Scientists asserted

that “nuclear winter,” meaning the end of life on earth, could

result from even a small-scale nuclear attack.29 The risk of

nuclear war was perceived as more serious than ever before,

and Soviet propaganda preyed upon this fear.30

Of course, the irony of this image of Ronald Reagan as a

maverick ready to hurl nukes at a moment’s notice is the fact

that Reagan was a nuclear abolitionist. On many occasions—

with the summit in Reykjavik as the most remembered—

Reagan stated that the world would be better off without

nuclear weapons. In his famous “Star Wars” speech of 23

March 1983, he publicly declared that the ultimate goal of the

SDI program towards nuclear weapons would be “to eliminate

the weapons themselves.”31

But Reagan was also very pragmatic in his approach to strategic forces and arms control. He was well aware that the United

States would only be able to successfully turn back the Soviet

Union when US forces were again a credible deterrent. Reagan

firmly believed that “Peace is purchased by making yourself

stronger than your adversary,” and that “Nations that place their

faith in treaties and fail to keep their hardware up don’t stick

around long enough to write many pages in history.”32

The first order of business was to remedy the “window of

vulnerability” that had opened during the 1970s. The most

pressing initiatives concerned comprehensive increases in

ongoing defense programs. Rather than change American

strategy, Reagan’s initiatives focused on obtaining the

resources needed to implement existing strategic goals successfully. In addition to continuing the Carter programs such

as air-launched and sea-launched cruise missiles (ALCMs and

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SLCMs), force modernization involved procurement of the cancelled B-1 bomber, deployment of the MX (Peacekeeper) and

Trident D5 missiles, research and development of the single

warhead missile (Midgetman), and acquiring the “Advanced

Technology Bomber,” now the B-2 Spirit.

Of equal importance, but less well known, the Reagan

Administration gave top priority to improving strategic command and control systems.33 The destructiveness of nuclear

weapons, along with the electromagnetic pulse (EMP) inherent

to a nuclear detonation, threatened the coherence of communications networks.34 An estimate in 1982 concluded that less

than one percent of Soviet warheads of the period could

destroy the US military command, control, communication,

and intelligence (C3I) that connected the National Command

Authorities (NCA) with fielded strategic forces. It was concluded that destroying C3I in a first strike was the single most

effective target to reduce American strategic power.

A final pillar of Reagan’s strategic modernization program

was to stay on schedule with the deployment of the INF missiles in Europe begun by the Carter Administration. This

deployment was seen as being key to demonstrating NATO

Alliance unity and resolve in the face of Soviet expansionism. A

successful deployment of these systems would be a major setback to Soviet aims in Europe and could potentially force them

into serious arms-control discussions with the United States,

the ultimate goal being Reagan’s “zero option,” elimination of

all superpower nuclear missiles in Europe. Such an achievement might lead to a more stable superpower environment.35

The US Approach to Arms Control

The paramount US arms-control objective since 1958 had

been strategic stability. The Reagan Administration’s new conception of the proper role of arms control in US security policy was that arms control should complement, not substitute

for, strategy. The administration set forth these strategic principles in the 1980 Republican Party platform.36

1. Negotiate from a position of strength.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
2. Negotiate on the basis of reciprocal benefits from the

Soviet Union.

3. Unilateral restraint by the United States had failed to

bring corresponding reductions by the Soviets during the

1970s.

4. Arms-control negotiations represent an important political and military undertaking that cannot be divorced

from the broader political and military behavior of the

negotiating parties.37

Critics of the administration cited the strategic modernization program and INF deployment as an indication it was not

serious about negotiations with the Soviets, and would term

these principles as “voodoo arms control.”38 Despite the criticism, Reagan was eager to engage with the Soviets, and knew

he could be extremely effective if he could meet with Soviet

leaders face-to-face.39 With Soviet leadership changing so rapidly during his first term, this desire could not be fulfilled.

Nonetheless, the Reagan Administration derived an approach

to arms-control negotiations from these strategic principles

that would eventually become START. This approach was

based on four basic premises, or operating assumptions.

1. The Soviets had, or would soon acquire, a destabilizing

first-strike capability.

2. The SALT approach to arms control had failed to restrain

the Soviet threat and had decreased stability and US

national security.

3. US strength was the best assurance of peace and stability.

4. The United States must attempt to restore its negotiating

capital.

The first premise addressed the “window of vulnerability”

resulting from the deterioration of US forces and Soviet

buildup in the 1970s. It also addressed Brezhnev’s goal of a

USSR with global dominance and influence.40 The second

premise was no surprise, for like détente, Reagan believed

SALT only had “meaning if both sides take positive actions to

relax the tensions.”41 Both of the first two premises described

the circumstances existing at the beginning of the 1980s as

Reagan and his advisors saw them. The second two premises

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formed a prescriptive basis for an alternative approach to US

national security. Mindful of the limitations of negotiating with

the Soviet Union, they prescribed a new and subordinate role

for arms control.42

The fourth premise recognized that serious negotiating

asymmetries had been allowed to fester, leaving the United

States at a disadvantage at the negotiating table. Unless the

United States could restore its negotiating capital, there would

be no incentive for the USSR to modify its stand or curb its

expansion. Short-term attempts to restore it included changing ICBM alert postures from the Carter Administration’s

“launch under attack” to “launch on warning,” proceeding

with the INF deployment on schedule, and keeping pressure

on the Soviets through rhetoric and the Four-Part Agenda.43

Long-term attempts included Reagan’s strategic modernization and eventually SDI.

SDI would ultimately become the single most important element in the conduct of negotiations with the Soviet Union. Of

all the US modernization programs, it would inflame Soviet

fears of a US technological leap and a new arms race in space.

Much of this Soviet fear was based on their own SDI

research.44 US negotiators would skillfully use SDI and

America’s restored negotiating capital to meet the overarching

arms-control goals of preventing war, limiting the damages if

war occurs, and lowering the costs of preparing for war.

During the Reagan Administration, these would be manifested

through four major objectives.

The four major objectives that emerged in the arms-control

process of the Reagan Administration included enhanced stability, militarily significant reductions, equality of rights and

limits, and effective verification. These objectives materialized

from a presidential request to review both US security and

arms-control policies shortly after he took office in 1981.

The American objectives in the arms-control negotiations

process sought to translate these premises into explicit priorities. One can clearly see in them an attempt to correct what

the administration perceived were flaws in the later SALT II

agreement. Many in the Reagan Administration felt that the

communists always won negotiations and treaties like SALT II

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
were the result. Reagan certainly expressed this view in his

pre-presidential radio broadcasts when he stated, “we are still

being out-traded by the Soviets.”45

Reagan believed that, unlike his predecessors, he would

change the focus of the arms-control process to make it work

for American interests. Reagan’s team would attack the existing negotiating asymmetries that had favored the Soviets by

attempting to match, neutralize, or compensate for them.46 He

set forth his arms-control agenda in his speech to the National

Press Club on 18 November 1981, when he called for talks

that would bring meaningful reductions in strategic arms, as

opposed to SALT’s purpose of mere limitations. Reagan also

reiterated his campaign theme of making reductions both

equal and verifiable, which remained a cornerstone of US

strategic arms-control agreements.47

Although a desired goal, strategic stability was not the preeminent goal.48 The United States recognized that other objectives would help to clarify and substantiate the overall goal of

enhancing stability. Therefore, achieving militarily significant

reductions, equality of rights and limits, and verification were

also interwoven into the fabric of arms-control negotiations to

achieve strategic stability. Since increases in weapons, throw

weight, and first-strike capability were considered by the

United States to be destabilizing, reductions in these capabilities were necessary for the agreement to be a success.

Arms race stability was a condition where neither side felt

pressured to respond to the other’s military programs by investing in weapon developments it would otherwise forego. To maintain this stability, both sides assumed that both US and Soviet

weapons procurement processes were driven by an actionreaction dynamic, and further, that both sides were determined

to maintain fixed and finite mutually assured destruction capability for inflicting unacceptable damage upon the other. Both

sides would also respond to any effort by the opposition to

diminish the potential effectiveness of that capability. Therefore,

both sides assumed that if neither side engaged in those efforts,

neither side would feel prompted to accumulate nuclear

weapons beyond those required for MAD.49

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The second major US objective, achieving militarily significant reductions, reflected Reagan’s belief that arms control

should go beyond mere limitations to achieve meaningful

reductions, thus distinguishing his approach from that of his

predecessor. Reagan wanted to avoid the trap of conducting

arms control for its own sake, which he believed had corrupted the SALT process. The focus on reductions would correct the errors of the past and make a substantive commitment to ensure that arms control actually served US national

security interests. Reagan wanted his negotiators to use arms

control to constrain military capability and potential instead of

legitimizing buildups or freezing weapons at levels, he held,

that were already too high. Consequently, US negotiators

would concentrate on reducing the actual destructive potential of forces, specifically numbers of warheads, launchers,

and throw weight. As we have discussed, stability required

that these reductions set forth lower numbers of forces at

equal levels. Domestically, this approach sought to appeal to

popular sentiment to end the arms race as well as deflect criticism from the nuclear freeze movement.50

Equality of rights and limits, often referred to as parity,

sought to bring about mutual reductions to equal levels in the

most important measures of military capability. This was an

important element of the US pursuit for stability. An unequal

agreement that established or prolonged an unequal balance

could only result in instability. According to the State

Department, “equality is an essential condition if arms-control

agreements are to fulfill the requirements of strengthening

stability and maintaining effective deterrence at reduced levels.”51 Parity is considered the only dependable basis for

mutual arms race stability and has been a traditional objective and prerequisite for arms-control agreements. But Reagan

differed from previous administrations in two ways: First, his

team interpreted this objective as applying to equality of limits as well as equality of rights. Equal limits referred to numbers parity and is the conventional meaning of the word. Equal

rights meant that neither side would have a unilateral or

uncompensated right to one type of system (for instance,

heavy ICBMs). Second, the Reagan Administration intended

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that equality be achieved in overall destructive capability of US

and Soviet forces—not just numbers of weapons. This is why

throw weight and warhead numbers were so important, since

Soviet warheads were about twice as destructive as US warheads.52

This objective of equal rights and limits was of such importance to US thinking that Congress had passed the JacksonVanik amendment in 1972. This amendment urged the president to ensure that future arms-control agreements would not

place US strategic forces at a disadvantage to Soviet forces,

thus making parity a part of public law (Public Law 92-448).

Critics of the final SALT II Treaty cited a Senate Armed

Services Committee report that concluded, “The treaty is

unequal in favor of the Soviet Union and, thus, is inconsistent

with Public Law 98-448.”53 As Dr. Kartchner points out, “parity is the sine qua non of strategic arms control.” Conventional

wisdom held that the strategic balance could only achieve stability in conditions of strict parity; hence strategic parity

became the “holy grail” of strategic stability. The resulting

inequalities promoted the incentives for an arms race, as one

side tried to counter or neutralize perceived advantages by the

other side, to achieve equality. The question is, how does one

measure equality?54

The Jackson-Vanik amendment attempted to measure

equality in terms of destructive capability. Because US strategic doctrine required an “essential equivalence” between

United States and Soviet strategic force capability, a US armscontrol objective of equality in destructive might would align

arms-control policy with US nuclear strategic doctrine, and

hence deterrence.

Nonetheless, the United States had traded strict equality of

rights for concessions in other areas, as was the case when the

United States agreed to halve the expected deployment of US

ALCMs (a weapon the Soviets saw as destabilizing) in return

for Soviet agreement to reduce heavy ICBMs by half (a weapon

the United States regarded as destabilizing).55 As US negotiators to the START process discovered, it is imperative to document what trades and concessions in these areas were

related to, because after a time the Soviets would return to the

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negotiating table requesting to change the deal hoping to dupe

new American negotiators who were unaware of the reasons

for the earlier concession. Recognition of this potential trap led

Forrest Waller from OSD to write an internal paper entitled

“Policy Advisor’s Guide to the START Treaty” in order to protect future negotiators.56

ACDA, too, noted from its experience in arms negotiations

that accords that lacked adequate provision for verification

and compliance became a source of suspicion, tension, and

distrust, rather than a source of international stability.57

Verification was the fourth major US arms-control objective.

The Reagan approach to verification provisions was revolutionary, and one of the most important contributions his

administration made to the theory and practice of arms control. Verification was a constant theme in his criticism of the

final SALT II Treaty as well as in his summit meetings with

General Secretary Gorbachev. To Reagan, the use of national

technical means was never enough verification upon which to

base US security. Reagan demanded intrusive, on-site verifications that would serve as an incentive for the Soviets to

comply with any agreement.

As we saw with SALT II, the accepted attitude towards verification was that each side maintained the “adequacy” of monitoring compliance. It assumed the agreement clearly demarcated what actions complied with the agreement and which

ones did not. If a party were accused of noncompliance, it

could respond in a timely and militarily effective manner to

answer the accusation. This traditional approach assumed

that all parties signed the agreement in good faith—never

intending to violate the treaty—that made the treaty selfenforcing.58 The administration contended that SALT had

finally renounced this approach. The Soviets were accused of

intentionally wording treaties to be ambiguous in an attempt

to deceive US intelligence, and of cheating on occasion, such

as the Krasnoyarsk radar site that violated the ABM Treaty.59

The Reagan Administration’s approach to verification differed from the traditional approach in several key areas. First

of all, rather than make concessions to secure verification provisions, which the administration believed was done under the

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Carter Administration, US negotiators would take the position

that verification would benefit all parties to an agreement.

Verification, to Reagan, was essential to the viability of the

arms-control process itself and therefore the United States

would not concede anything to achieve it. Second, to detect

violations in a timely manner, deter noncompliance, and provide an adequate evidential base upon which to determine the

severity of the violations and formulate proportional responses,

agreements would have to be “effectively” verifiable. In the

words of Ambassador Eugene Rostow: “We shall not confine

ourselves to negotiating only about aspects of the problem

which can be detected by national technical means. We shall

begin by devising substantive limitations that are strategically

significant, and then construct the set of measures necessary

to ensure verifiability.” The administration knew that more

intrusive means of verification were essential.60 Reagan himself had said about SALT, “there is no way without on site

inspection . . . to verify whether the Soviets are indeed complying with the treaty.”61

The second aspect of the administration’s new verification

policy required greater clarity and precision in the negotiated

treaty language and closing loopholes that could later lead to

differences of opinion regarding standards of compliance.

Ambassador Rostow called for a treaty text that would “limit the

likelihood of ambiguous situations developing.”62 By the time

the START I Treaty was signed by the first Bush Administration,

the substance of the treaty text was reasonably unambiguous

and error-free, which is a tribute to the attorneys who supported the delegation.63

To promote effective verification procedures, the administration made a distinction of just what comprised compliance.

The approach they took distinguished between monitoring

compliance, or observing treaty-constrained activities, and

verifying compliance, which was assessing the legalities of

those activities. 

Monitoring compliance used NTM to gather raw intelligence

data from the other party’s military activities, but did not

involve any judgment regarding whether those activities fulfilled or transgressed international obligations. NTM included

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photographic, radar, electronic surveillance, seismic instrumentation, and atmospheric sampling. Under President

Reagan’s guidance, the INF and START treaties would require

augmentation by various types of on-site inspections, and

include cooperative measures such as exchanges of data and

open displays of mobile missiles for NTM collection purposes.

Monitoring treaty-constrained activities and assessing the

degree of compliance may be thought of as two phases in an

effective verification process. The first phase is the technical and

analytical process, where data is collected and studied. The second phase, which addresses whether verification is effective, is

the process of actually verifying compliance. It involves the political process of passing judgment on the evidence collected in the

first phase. It also involves deciding on an appropriate response

after considering the importance and severity of any violated

provisions, and most importantly the associated risk posed by

the violation to the nation’s security.64

In past administrations, “adequate” verification was generally regarded as meaning “a level of verification which would

assure with high confidence that compliance could be determined to the extent necessary to safeguard national security.”

It also assumed that noncompliance could be detected in a

timely manner so that an appropriate response could follow.65

Deterring violations rested upon detecting them and not

through evidence to assess compliance.

Under the Reagan Administration, this traditional approach

applied only to the first phase (the monitoring phase).

Reagan’s team knew that effective verification had to be supplemented by an effective compliance policy. Its standards of

effective verification involved precise treaty language, cooperative and intrusive measures to assist monitoring compliance,

and the political will to respond to detected violations. This

approach to verification was revolutionary in that it framed

future arms-control agreements to both reduce treaty language ambiguity and enhance the quality of compliance evidence through intrusive, on-site inspections. Thus, for the

first time the Soviet bureaucracy had hard incentives to comply with negotiated agreements. The first Bush Administration

would endorse and perpetuate these objectives in their START

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negotiations, providing a solid degree of continuity designed to

ensure a timely conclusion to START.66

Negotiations: US Negotiating Strategy

Ideology and pragmatism struggled with each other in the

Reagan Administration’s negotiating strategy. Although Reagan

fervently desired meaningful negotiations and real arms reductions, he rejected the thesis that arms-control negotiations were

the most important step toward cooling off the Cold War and

thus could not be jeopardized. Soviet aggression, beginning with

Afghanistan and continuing through Reagan’s first term, such as

the shootdown of Korean Airlines flight 007 by the Soviet air

defense and the murder of Arthur Nicholson, a US Army major,

by a Soviet sentry in East Germany, kept pressure on the president to denounce the Soviets and avoid all talks.

Reagan’s condemnation of the Soviets during this period

was not mere rhetoric of the president’s personal ideology. It

served two specific purposes. First, it was intended to remobilize American public opinion after years of détente. Second, it

was meant to send the Soviet leaders a message, especially at

such an unstable time when Brezhnev, Yuri V. Andropov, and

Konstatin U. Chernenko died in rapid succession. Reagan’s

blunt declarations signaled that America had the will to resist

Soviet expansion and left no doubt that it would respond to

new Soviet aggression. Despite his “cowboy” reputation,

Reagan’s actions were operationally more cautious and careful. His rhetoric, coupled with military actions against Soviet

proxies like Libya and Grenada, served to avoid confrontation

and possible military clashes between the superpowers.

Public pressure for arms control and talks with the Soviets,

however, mounted throughout Reagan’s first term. Public

opinion equated arms control with a sincere search for peace.

Even had Reagan placed arms-control negotiations at the top

of his priorities, however, the rapid deaths of three Soviet leaders made meaningful negotiations virtually impossible.67 As

former Secretary of State Shultz pointed out, “the Soviet Union

was mired in a protracted and so far inconclusive process of

succession in leadership and in the difficulties of a stagnant

and foundering economy.” He recognized that the role of the

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Soviet military was prominent, as “transitional periods in

Soviet history had always witnessed an increase in the military’s influence” and hence, less interest in arms-control negotiations.68

The US negotiating strategy would thus proceed cautiously,

with negotiators available for talks in Geneva if the Soviets

desired to resume them. More importantly, the strategic modernization program would continue while US foreign policy centered on Reagan’s Four-Part Agenda. He rejected the NixonKissinger idea of “linkage.” Rather, he recognized an intrinsic

link among all issues in superpower relations: human rights,

regional crises, arms control, and bilateral contacts. The United

States would try to act with strength in each area.69

A firm believer in the United States acting from strength,

Ambassador Edward Rowny, spent six and one half years at the

negotiating table with the Soviets during the SALT II and START

talks. The former head of ACDA used his experience to compile

what he called “Ten Commandments for Negotiating with the

Soviets” for future arms-control negotiators. These were

1. thou shalt remember above all thine objective;

2. thou shalt be patient;

3. thou shalt keep secrets;

4. thou shalt bear in mind the differences in political

structures;

5. thou shalt beware of Greeks bearing gifts;

6. thou shalt remember that in the Soviet view, form is

substance;

7. thou shalt not be deceived by the Soviet “fear of being

invaded”;

8. thou shalt beware of negotiating in the eleventh hour;

9. thou shalt not be deceived by the Soviets’ words; and

10. thou shalt not misinterpret the human element.

Each of these commandments was the result of a hard lesson

learned by US negotiators throughout the SALT II process,

often resulting in a Soviet advantage. Ambassador Rowny was

painfully aware that the US imperative in arms-control policy

was and is to enhance our national security interests.70

During the START talks, he admonished US negotiators not to

be “soft” on the Soviets.71

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President Reagan, who considered himself a tough and experienced negotiator from his labor union days, also wanted

someone who could be tough with the Soviets—and who had

experience negotiating with them—in charge of his foreign policy and overseeing the negotiating process.72 That job eventually fell upon Secretary of State George P. Shultz, who had cut

his teeth in Soviet negotiations during the Nixon Administration

when he was secretary of labor, and where he earned a reputation for integrity, tenacity, and effectiveness. As secretary of

state, he would be responsible for keeping US foreign policy—

as well as US arms-control negotiations—aligned with the

Four-Part Agenda. Shultz, considered by most accounts a

pragmatist, inherited an arms-control institution that would

peak during this period.73 Shultz was also seen as a political

conservative in the usual meaning of the term, staunchly antiSoviet, and firmly behind the strategic modernization program

that was considered an essential precondition of successful

diplomacy.74

For the negotiating team to succeed in any negotiations with

the Soviets, Shultz believed that the United States must

accomplish two prerequisites for success: first, the nationallevel initiatives of the Reagan Administration, and second, a

unified composition and position of the US negotiating team

itself. Shultz regarded national-level initiatives, such as the

strategic modernization program and the INF deployment, as

essential for motivating the Soviets to negotiate, because they

signaled political will and solid alliance relationships.75 Also,

the will to use that force, such as in Grenada, did “more than

the MX will do to make US power credible and peace secure.”76

Shultz believed that improved economic growth, together with

a steady and consistent foreign policy, would benefit the

United States over the long haul, would indicate to our allies

and the American people that it was the Reagan Administration

and not the Soviets who were interested in serious armscontrol discussions, and would undermine Soviet foreign policy and propaganda.77

One of the most important and difficult tasks that the leader

of the US negotiation team had was developing a unified composition and position of the negotiating team itself. Because

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the negotiations process was designed to be adversarial, the

trick for the negotiator was to flesh out a consistent position—

a “unified front”—within his team’s own constituency. What

people “usually call ‘the negotiation’ is in a sense the tip of the

iceberg.” The real negotiations occur within one’s own constituency, where representatives from different agencies hash

out an agenda based upon the president’s guidelines.78 The

theory behind this process was that each agency would forward different ideas on how to proceed, and the best ideas on

a position would emerge. Preparation was about internal

issues, with each agency trying to “win” against the others.79

Based on his many years as a negotiator, Shultz saw this competitive relationship on tough issues as normal and healthy.

Though some aspects of these arguments and leaks to the

press were counterproductive, Reagan’s team had identified a

process through which people expressed honest and divergent

views. Shultz “would worry far more about an administration

whose members agreed on every subject.”80 Such a process

seemed to work best as long as arguments were direct and

substantive, as decisions needed to be timely and intelligent.

When the arguments turned personal, it could have a debilitating effect on the process. 

Presenting a “unified front” was crucial when confronting

the Soviets at the negotiating table, as Soviet negotiators were

often more experienced than their US counterparts and would

exploit any division on the US side. This was considered one

of the major problems with the SALT II.81

Once the head of the negotiating team unified his own constituency, the next task was to constantly assess how well his

Soviet opponent had done this appraisal within the Soviet constituency. In this way, the US side could exploit any fissures

among the Soviet delegation’s position that presented themselves and use those opportunities to further US positions. In

addition, by appraising the unity of the Soviet team, the US

team leader could evaluate the likelihood that any position the

Soviets agreed to would stick. 

As the Reagan Administration’s first term came to its end,

the strategic modernization program and INF deployments

were solidly on track. The US economy was strong. Reagan’s

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Four-Part Agenda provided clear foreign policy guidance, and

the secretary of state was focused both on solidifying his constituency and the direction in which the US negotiating team

was to proceed. There was only one obstacle to the Reagan

Administration’s goal of achieving credible strategic arms

reductions: Just what were the Soviets up to?

Developing a US Position on Arms Control?

As we’ve noted before, there were plenty of problems on the

Soviet side concerning their approach to serious strategic

arms negotiations during Reagan’s first term. Soviet reluctance was coupled with overtly aggressive conduct upon the

world stage. In Reagan’s State of the Union address in

January, 1983, he reasserted that he was still prepared for a

positive relationship with the Soviets, but “the Soviet Union

must show by deeds as well as words a sincere commitment to

respect the rights and sovereignty of the family of nations.”82

Soviet deeds were alienating them from the world community

at large and had sparked a heated debate within the administration on the wisdom of engaging them in arms-control talks.

Such Soviet conduct had inflamed the visceral hatred of

communism harbored by many in the administration. Debate

ranged from the pragmatic “how should the administration

proceed” to the ideological “whether the administration should

proceed at all.” Negotiations were still seen as dangerous, and

the “fatally flawed” SALT II remained a sore spot. The “evil

empire” appeared inflexible and imperturbable in its brutality.

During Reagan’s first term, the struggle between ideology and

pragmatism within the administration was at its height.83

Inside the administration, divergent views on US-Soviet

relations emerged along pragmatist and conservative lines

even though the Reagan cabinet consisted of conservatives in

the conventional sense of the word. The pragmatists included

George Schultz at state, Vice President George Bush, National

Security Advisor Bud McFarlane, Chief of Staff James Baker,

presidential assistant Michael Deaver, and first lady Nancy

Reagan. Those more ideologically conservative included

Secretary of Defense Caspar “Cap” Weinberger, former

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National Security Advisor Judge William Clark, CIA Chief

William Casey, and UN ambassador Jean Kirkpatrick. 

One of the main distinctions between these positions in the

arms-control arena was that the pragmatists saw the strategic

modernization program and Reagan’s rhetoric as an opportunity to drive hard bargains with the Soviets at the negotiating

table, while the conservatives believed that the Soviets only

responded to military power. The pragmatists did not believe

the force modernization would last after Reagan and sought to

use it to achieve the president’s goal of reducing strategic

arms between the superpowers, which required negotiations

with the Soviets. The conservatives, especially Secretary of

Defense Weinberger, perceived a similarity in aggressive Soviet

conduct with that of Nazi Germany before World War II. Hence,

the conservatives were preparing to fight World War III and

saw the force modernization as their means to credibly achieve

military victory.84 Naturally, these views would clash, competing for preeminence in US-Soviet relations.

Shultz saw the arms-control process as part of state’s jurisdiction within the context of US foreign policy. He believed he

had President Reagan’s support to pursue contacts with the

Soviets within the framework of the Four-Part Agenda. He, like

Reagan, wanted to engage the Soviets in discussions, which

Shultz believed would best serve US interests. However, following the president’s lead, any discussions must result from

a Soviet “deed” that clearly indicated they were moving toward

a US position in the Four-Part Agenda. Reagan, and ergo

Shultz, would undertake negotiations when “they are called

for.”85 Shultz also believed that a steady, patient, and tough

US foreign policy that was consistent and predictable would

reassure the American constituency and our allies, while forcing the Soviets to conclude they had no choice but to meet the

United States on Reagan’s terms. By making human rights a

central issue in his Four-Part Agenda, Reagan had targeted

one of the more vulnerable areas of Soviet policy. The Soviets,

who signed the 1975 Helsinki Accords on human rights, were

behind the brutal crackdown of the Solidarity movement in

Poland, maintained the “gulag” of political prisoners, and were

openly committing other human rights violations. Shultz’s job

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was to exploit that vulnerability and use it to drive the hardest bargain he could. He would begin every meeting with the

Soviets discussing human rights issues.86

Weinberger worried that a successful engagement with the

Soviets by the State Department would lead to a premature

return to the days of détente. Without the perceived danger of

war with the Soviet Union, Congress would be less willing to

keep the strategic modernization on track. The Soviets could

then achieve a political victory, continue negotiating from a

position of strength, and likely be able to defeat any US opposition by force of arms. Weinberger, a student of Winston

Churchill, saw parallels between Churchill’s unheeded warnings about the Nazi military buildup in the 1930s and his own

dire forecasts of Soviet military superiority. In the Pentagon

behind Weinberger’s desk hung a framed Churchill quotation:

“Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never; in

nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in.”87 This

position served him well during Reagan’s first term in office.

Later in Reagan’s second term, as world events changed and

the Soviet Union began to shift its positions due to the success

of the Four-Part Agenda, the effectiveness of that position

waned and he became a more marginal figure in the debate

over arms control. In October 1987, he would resign as secretary of defense.88

During Reagan’s first term, however, Weinberger kept the

Department of Defense on a steady course of preparing for

global war with the Soviets. Weinberger saw his responsibility

as dispassionately assessing the threat and recommending to

the Congress and the president a course of action to counter

that threat.89 With his ally at CIA, William Casey, Weinberger

planned to confront the Soviets in asymmetric forms of warfare to undermine Soviet power. They authored National

Security Decision Directive (NSDD) 66, which sought to wage

protracted economic warfare, psychological warfare, and sabotage of Western goods headed for the USSR, with the intent

of crippling the Soviet economy.90 Weinberger saw these measures as substantive ones, which would force the Soviets to

change their positions, whereas to engage in arms-control

talks was in his mind the more risky course. OSD wanted to

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reduce Soviet nuclear capability and change the nuclear balance to favor the United States.91

Considering the different viewpoints at defense and state,

one should certainly not be surprised that there would be a

conflict in their respective approaches to relations with the

Soviet Union. Unfortunately, much was leaked to the press,

which portrayed the administration as in a state of disarray for

its deep internal divisions and debates. The press had

described the conflict between state and defense in terms of “a

battle between the two Richards”: Richard Perle, the assistant

secretary of defense for international security, and Richard

Burt at state, who was director of the Bureau for PoliticalMilitary Affairs.92 Both assistants were deeply involved in the

arms-control process. Despite colliding on arms-control

issues, they achieved substantive movement early on with the

INF talks.

It should not be surprising that these differences rippled

down to the working groups who were “in the trenches,” hammering out the US position on arms control for the negotiating

team. One can sum up the divergent positions that permeated

the team, as “one group believed they were saving the world,

and the other believed they were saving the country.”93 At the

worst, the action officers often reflected the personalities of

their superiors in the meetings, which resulted in extreme

passions, laborious negotiations, and great delay in the armscontrol process. Four-letter words were exchanged, friendships were ruined, and grudges were held.94 Under these circumstances came the leaks to the press and disruption of the

process. At best, the team sculpted a firm US negotiating position and successfully fronted the Soviets. Their timing and

content, according to Shultz, was “just about right.” The US

position was gradually solidifying.95

At the highest level in the arms-control policy process was

the National Security Council, but the national security advisor position changed so often during the Reagan Administration

that it lacked the clout or staying power of Shultz and

Weinberger.96 While Bud McFarlane was the national security

advisor, he favored private channels with the Soviets. Such

contacts usually proved unsuccessful and clashed with

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Shultz’s efforts to conduct arms-control discussions as part of

the broader US foreign policy run by state. McFarlane also lobbied for an arms-control “czar” to oversee all strategic talks.

Eventually, the idea was adopted, with Max Kampelman filling

that role under the auspices of the Nuclear and Space Talks

(NST), which set forth an agenda to cover strategic nuclear

arms, intermediate-range forces, and defense and space.97

Another policy maker in the discussion of whether or not the

administration should proceed with negotiations, ACDA, was

designed to represent the arms-control viewpoint in discussions. However, Reagan conservatives ran it during this period

and it leaned along those conservative lines. Its level of influence

in the arms-control process was often a reflection of the stature

of the head of the agency. At the working group level, ACDA had

within it staff capabilities and corporate knowledge that were

very useful to everyone concerned with arms control.98

Although the CIA was not a policy maker on arms-control

policy issues, Weinberger could rely on their assessments of

Soviet military strength to support his objectives and position.

CIA was ideologically aligned with OSD.

Within the Department of Defense, the Joint Staff, supported

by the services, also had a role to play in arms-control negotiations. Although not a policymaker, the Joint Staff had at its disposal experts in the various weapon systems of interest to the

negotiators. Surprisingly, the Joint Staff would sometimes take

a position contrary to that of OSD during the Reagan

Administration. The Joint Staff was not ideologically motivated.

They understood what they wanted to preserve and were not

necessarily interested in using arms control to weaken the

Soviet Union. They wanted to make sure that the arms-control

agreements did not likewise injure US strategic forces.99 This

internal division sometimes hurt the OSD position.

One problem area between the Joint Staff and OSD regarded

program cuts. Sometimes the services would go overboard protecting pet programs after OSD had targeted them for cuts.

Members of the Joint Staff would rally support from program

allies in Congress in an effort to “backdoor” the OSD, putting

OSD in a position of constant negotiations with the services.100

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Resolving the Division

One of the first overtures from the Soviet Union that suggested talks could proceed occurred in 1983. A group of Soviet

Pentecostal Christians had entered the US embassy in

Moscow and refused to leave. They were seeking religious freedom and the right to emigrate from the USSR and were allowed

to live in the embassy basement. On President Reagan’s initiative, the State Department worked a deal with the Soviets:

they would release the Pentecostals and President Reagan

would not turn the issue into a propaganda event.

The Pentecostals were freed and Reagan kept his word. This

issue was, in a sense, the first successful negotiation with the

Soviets in the Reagan Administration. He had demonstrated to

the Soviets that here was a president that could be trusted in

negotiations.101 Secretary Shultz credits this trust as essential

for successful negotiations.102 Slight progress was at last being

made in US-Soviet relations along the guidance of the FourPart Agenda.

Progress was being made within the administration’s own

constituency. National Security Advisor Bud McFarlane,

Secretary of State Shultz, Secretary of Defense Weinberger,

and CIA Director William Casey had begun the initial “Family

Group” luncheons to try to arrive at a common position on foreign policy issues. Although the atmosphere was somewhat

confrontational, these weekly luncheons were a team-building

attempt at the cabinet level in which big issues, such as arms

control with the Soviets, could be discussed freely.103

The makeup of the US negotiating team was changing, however. The president had agreed to an idea that the United States

would go to Geneva with a large delegation representing all the

different points of view. Although the actual team to sit at the

table would be small, they would be supported by a large delegation with broad expertise that would be available to address

any issue on the spot. Besides being an opportunity to pull people together, it also would mean speeding up the negotiations

process on the US side, and would potentially keep the Soviets

off balance and responding to US initiatives. Periodically,

results and issues would be brought to President Reagan and

his top advisors. Every member of the delegation would be

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included in the process of arriving at a position, solidifying ownership in the negotiating process. Shultz believed, based on

his previous negotiating experiences in the world of labormanagement talks, that once the US team arrived at a position,

everyone would have been involved and therefore would more

likely support it.104 Each session involved a close “wringing out,”

but Shultz cited such involvement, as well as selecting good

people, as crucial to successful negotiations.105

Once the delegation arrived in Geneva, all bickering was

over. In an effort to eliminate leaks to the press or parties trying to negotiate through the press, a blackout was imposed on

the delegation forbidding anyone from talking to members of

the media. To do so meant expulsion from the team.106

For high-level talks with the Soviets, a senior US official,

someone of the status of Ambassador Paul Nitze or Ed Rowny,

would lead the team. Once the NST discussions began, the

arms-control “czar,” Max Kampelman, would head the US delegation. On other occasions, such as summits, Secretary of

State Shultz would lead the delegation. In Geneva, for

instance, National Security Advisor Bud McFarlane and

Ambassadors Paul Nitze and Art Hartman accompanied

Shultz at the table. Jack Matlock, ambassador to the USSR,

would be there to take notes. Fluent in Russian language and

culture, Matlock was equally expert in US-Soviet relations.107

A senior official, usually from the State Department, such as

Richard Burt or Roz Ridgeway, chaired the working group that

supported the team of negotiators. The State Department was in

charge of the policy process and they had a “long arm” on the

actual negotiations process. In a typical meeting on policy matters, there would be several other State Department representatives, from either the office of Strategic Nuclear Policy or the

Bureau of Political-Military Affairs. A representative from the

State Department’s General Council would also usually be

there, as would someone from the regional bureau that dealt

with Soviet matters. One advocate, such as Richard Perle, usually represented OSD. ACDA, the Joint Staff, and the intelligence community also had one representative. Beneath this tier

of delegates would be experts from the various agencies who

could quickly address the details on key issues.108

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The makeup of the Soviet delegation had traditionally been

under the leadership of the Foreign Ministry, which would

reflect the position of the general secretary and the Politburo

at the negotiating table. During Reagan’s first term that was

Andrei Gromyko. With the success of the large US negotiating

team, the Soviet delegation likewise changed about the time of

the Geneva summit to more closely mirror the makeup of the

US delegation. General Secretary Gorbachev created a special

Politburo commission with the task of coordinating the decisionmaking process. The head of the commission, Lev Zaikov,

was a secretary of the Central Committee on the Politburo. His

delegation consisted of members of the Foreign Ministry,

Ministry of Defense, scientific institutes, Gosplan, the militaryindustrial committee of the Council of Ministers, and experts

in various technical fields, similar to the US delegation.

During high-level discussions, Foreign Minister Eduard

Shevardnadze would head the delegation and speak directly

with Shultz.109 With the changes in Soviet leadership and the

depth of experience of the early Soviet negotiating delegation,

the difficulty for the US team was twofold: keeping the Soviet

delegation at the table and moving the Soviets toward the

Reagan position.

Dealing with the Soviets

With the release of the Soviet Pentecostals, the Reagan

Administration saw a glimmer of hope that the Soviets could

move forward on a point of the Four-Part Agenda. Yet the reality was that the Soviets still approached the US negotiators as

they had during the Carter Administration and expected to get

their way. As the deployment date for the Pershing II and

GLCM INF missiles to NATO neared, Soviet propaganda

increased, hoping to fan the flames of the peace movement

and force a political delay. The Soviets saw this deployment as

the most severe threat to their strategic stability to date.110

They threatened to pull out of all talks then under way if the

deployment continued on schedule and hyped the imminence

of nuclear war. From their perspective, this same tactic had

worked with the neutron bomb during the Carter

Administration. Should it work again, it would weaken

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Reagan’s bid for reelection in 1984 and could potentially mean

the end of the strategic modernization program.111

Fortunately for President Reagan, world public opinion was

changing. His “zero option” of INF in Europe was seen by the

world, and especially NATO and Japan, as moving forward on

the issue of arms control, and hence the cause of peace. The

Soviet position was seen for what it was, obstructionist. The

shoot-down of KAL-007 was fresh in the minds of many, further isolating the Soviets. One democrat wrote Sen. Howard

Baker that he was furious because Ronald Reagan had been

right about the Russians all along!112 The Soviets pulled out of

all talks as the deployment of the INF missiles continued.

Reagan had found an issue that credibly restored US negotiating capitol. If the Soviets wanted our missiles out of

Europe—and they did—they would have to come back to the

table and talk about it. The United States now had another ace

in the deck.

But Reagan wasn’t satisfied with that. His announcement in

the spring of 1983 that the United States was going forward

with SDI further pressured the Soviets. Now the Soviets were

faced with an arms race on earth and in space. The Soviets

were also looking over their shoulder at Japan’s economic

power and the dawn of the information age. Their economy

was already in trouble. Based on their own SDI research, the

Soviets feared that SDI signaled a US technological leap. SDI

had the potential to give the United States overwhelming firststrike capability. The Soviets also saw in it blackmail potential. Strategic modernization continued under Weinberger’s

guiding hand. How could the Soviet Union compete?113

Not only was the Reagan Administration going forward on

SDI, it was attempting to change the paradigm. NSDD 153 was

issued making SDI central to US strategy.114 Fred Ikle told

Congress “the Strategic Defense Initiative is not an optional

program at the margin of our defense effort. It is central.”115

This change to US strategy, coming on the heels of the

deployment of INF missiles to Europe, had suddenly given the

Soviets a strong incentive to talk with the Americans. More

importantly, it gave the Soviets motivation to approach the

American position. SDI gave American diplomacy a new

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potency.116 Stubbornly, the Soviets clung to the position that

what was needed was brand new negotiations before they

could return to the table.

President Reagan’s offer to the Soviets in his 24 September

1984 address to the United Nations General Assembly, where he

proposed umbrella talks that would include INF, START, space,

and SDI, seemed to offer just that. Using a time-honored negotiating technique, especially in the realm of arms-control negotiations, Reagan adopted the form but not the substance of the

opponent’s position. The Soviets wanted new negotiations, so the

United States adopted “new” negotiations. Max Kampelman was

the “new” head of the umbrella talks in his role as arms-control

“czar.” The reality, however, for the American delegation was simply the resumption of the original START and INF talks with the

addition of the new space and SDI talks.117

The Soviets returned to the negotiating table under

Gorbachev without the United States making any concessions.

A strong America, bolstered by the strategic modernization

program, the INF deployment, and now SDI, had restored

negotiating capital in spades. In a Congressional hearing, the

director of ACDA, Ken Adelman testified, “SDI helped bring the

Soviets back to the negotiating table and has proven to be the

engine driving them to make proposals for reductions.”118

The new Soviet General Secretary, Mikhail Sergeyevich

Gorbachev, was well aware of the weakness of the Soviet economy and its new untenable position vis-à-vis the United States.

He had no choice but to acknowledge what Marxists have traditionally prided themselves in recognizing objective reality. That

reality demanded rapprochement with the United States.

Although Gorbachev launched an immediate public-relations

campaign to arrest the blackened image of the Soviet Union,

knowledgeable observers detected he had a strong desire for an

end to the Cold War. Against this background, the Soviets eagerly

responded to the US invitation for a superpower summit between

Reagan and Gorbachev in Geneva in late 1985.119

Geneva

Gorbachev accepted the invitation to Geneva without “grand

expectations.” By his own admission, he merely sought to lay

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the foundations for serious future dialogue between the leaders of the superpowers.120 True to Soviet fashion, Gorbachev

initially took a tough approach with Reagan, telling him that

the United States should have no illusions about being able to

“bankrupt” the USSR, as called for in NSDD-66. Gorbachev

firmly added “we can match you, whatever you do.” Yet Max

Kampelman could see through the tough talk. In his sessions

with his Soviet counterpart, Yuli Kvitsinsky, Kampelman

detected an almost plaintive effort by the Soviets to at least

appear to make progress, especially over SDI. As recently as

October 1985, Kampelman had identified an evident split in

the Soviet delegation whose members had begun to criticize

each other in private statements to the ambassador. The

American delegation’s solidarity was having an effect on the

Soviets, who let both Shultz and Kampelman know that they

wanted to conclude the summit with an agreed statement—

something to show for their efforts.121

The US position was still solidly anchored in the Four-Part

Agenda. Along with Kampelman was Mike Glitman on INF and

John Tower on START. Other members of the delegation

included Roz Ridgeway from state in charge of the working

group, and Richard Perle, Don Regan, Bud McFarlane, Paul

Nitze, Art Hartman, Mark Palmer, and Col Bob Linhard, USAF.

Ridgeway and her charges deftly maneuvered the Soviets. At

one point, when her Soviet counterpart Georgi Kornienko tried

to use the “old style” Soviet negotiating technique of using

negotiations with linkage (contrary to a position Gorbachev

had agreed to earlier with Reagan), she snapped her briefing

book shut, stated “we aren’t going to negotiate that way,” and

walked out of the negotiations. The Soviets, eager for an

agreed statement, then requested that negotiations resume,

and inched closer toward the American position.122

The shining star of the talks, however, was Ronald Reagan

himself. Reagan and his wife, Nancy, acted as gracious hosts

to the Soviets and did their best to set a cordial and productive atmosphere for the delegations. Even so, on the second

morning of the talks, when General Secretary Gorbachev

began to berate the president’s SDI program, Reagan exploded

into an ardent debate with Gorbachev. Reagan took command

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of the floor, speaking with genuine passion about his vision of

a world without nuclear weapons. The old nuclear abolitionist

intensely expressed his abhorrence that the superpowers

relied on the ability to “wipe each other out” as the only means

of keeping the peace. “We must do better—and we can,”

Reagan exclaimed. The depth of President Reagan’s belief in

missile defense was vividly apparent to all present. He was at

his best, speaking from the heart with conviction. With the

simultaneous translation, Gorbachev could easily connect

with Reagan’s expressions, body language, and words. Silence

filled the room as Reagan concluded his discourse.

After what must have seemed an interminably long time,

Gorbachev said, “Mr. President, I don’t agree with you, but I

can see that you really mean what you say.” Reagan had made

a firm impression on the general secretary, who realized that

Reagan would not be swayed, intimidated, conned, or negotiated away from his position on a missile defense. Secretary

Shultz summed up the event as, “Reagan had personally

nailed into place an essential plank in our negotiating platform.”123

At the end of the summit, the United States had made no

concessions. In a sense, the Soviets garnered some success in

that they got the agreed statement they were looking for, but

to get it they moved much closer to the US position on INF and

the Four-Part Agenda. The American delegation had gotten the

Soviets to agree to the principle of a 50 percent reduction in

nuclear arms, “appropriately applied.” They also agreed to

commit, along with the United States, to early progress at the

Nuclear and Space Talks, and to focus on areas where there

“is common ground.”124

Agreements were reached on ensuring air safety in the

northern Pacific, on negotiations for the resumption of air

services, the opening of consulates in Kiev and New York, peopleto-people exchange programs, and cooperation on fusion

research. Nuclear and chemical nonproliferation, the conventional arms reductions talks, and agreements to begin confidence-building efforts in Stockholm were all positive. The joint

statement issued from Geneva was right out of one of Reagan’s

early speeches, “The sides . . . agreed that a nuclear war cannot

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be won and must never be fought.” The statement also called

for progress toward “an interim agreement on medium-range

missiles in Europe,” as well as a new dialogue process, regular meetings between the foreign ministers, and periodic discussions on regional issues—a crucial pillar of the Four-Part

Agenda. A foundation was laid on the issue of human rights,

where the Soviets agreed “on the importance of resolving

humanitarian cases in the spirit of cooperation.”125

Reagan realized he shared a kind of chemistry with

Gorbachev.126 Beyond the movement of the Soviets toward the

US position, Shultz believed that “the big story was that they

had hit it off as human beings,” which meant that future

summits were likely.127

Although the leaders had established this foundation for a

personal relationship, Gorbachev had failed to make progress

on his principal goal of halting SDI. Gorbachev knew that he

would have to try and reclaim the initiative from the

Americans by putting forward sweeping arms-control proposals, which included discarding the age-old Soviet insistence of

including British and French nuclear weapons in the count of

Western missiles. This proposal was politically designed to

again try to divide NATO. If Gorbachev could not make progress

on SDI, perhaps he could re-attack NATO unity and disrupt

INF.128 Gorbachev recognized the stature of his American

counterpart and realized that Reagan would be a formidable

opponent at any future summit. Approaching the historic

meeting at Reykjavik, Gorbachev knew that not only was

Reagan a man of his word, but that he was also “a man you

could do business with.”129

Reykjavik

In the aftermath of Geneva, many around the world were

looking to the talks at Reykjavik for substantial progress in

arms control. There was an optimistic belief that this summit,

held 11–12 October 1986, would lead to real strategic arms

reductions. Those who were close to the discussions had a

much more guarded opinion, as the discussions between summits saw quite a few proposals, but only modest progress.

Secretary Weinberger thought the United States would be

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severely tested at Reykjavik, as the Soviets had launched a set

of preliminary public relations thrusts directed at the Strategic

Defense Initiative. The Soviets held out the prospect that they

would eliminate all nuclear weapons if Reagan would only give

up strategic defense.130

Secretary Shultz likewise cautioned that the desire for peace

could lead to unwise compromises, as had happened before

with the SALT II.131 In an effort to break the “logjam” in thinking about strategic issues in the administration as well as to

“call” the Soviets on their offer of eliminating nuclear weapons,

Weinberger surprised everyone with a dramatic and radical

proposal. He suggested that the United States put forward an

offer to eliminate all ballistic missiles. Dr. Fred Ikle, undersecretary of defense, had earlier pointed out the special dangers

unique to fast-flying ballistic missiles, such as the inability to

be recalled once launched. Weinberger’s proposal would eliminate this threat that the United States saw as the most destabilizing weapon system. It would also test how serious the

Soviets were about eliminating nuclear weapons.132 Finally, it

would pressure the Soviets’ public relations campaign while indicating just how far the Reagan Administration was willing to go.

Gorbachev hoped that Reykjavik would improve the USSR’s

blackened image in the eyes of the world and would demonstrate his determination to “prevent a new arms race.”133 The

explosion at the Chernobyl nuclear power station in the

Ukraine on 26 April 1986 transformed Europe’s remaining

uncertainty about Soviet intentions into anger and fear.

Gorbachev, the proponent of glasnost, or openness,

stonewalled information on the catastrophe, much to the aversion of the West.134 He badly needed success at Reykjavik to

restore his image. 

To that end, Gorbachev tried to exploit the Reagan

Administration’s decision to scrap US adherence to SALT II in

May of 1986. Hyping the propaganda war, the Soviets

announced on 1 June that they would not consider themselves bound by any provision of the treaty once the United

States exceeded the weapons ceiling limits.135 By calling for an

elimination of all nuclear weapons, Gorbachev was not just

trying to win the propaganda war. Elimination of all nuclear

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weapons by the superpowers would give the Soviet Union the

following advantages:

• The Soviets had overwhelming superiority in conventional

forces, which would change the balance of power in

Europe.

• Without nuclear weapons, the United States would have

no valid reason to develop its SDI and would leave the

Soviets free to develop their own clandestine space

weapons program.

• This agreement could answer the US proposal to eliminate all ballistic missiles and would help restore the

image of the Soviet Union.136

Defeat of SDI was the overarching concern for the Soviets;

hence they began trying to link all US actions, such as departure from SALT II, with a concession on SDI. Having failed at

Geneva, Gorbachev tried several different approaches to derail

the program up to and including the summit of Reykjavik.

Based upon their own SDI research, the Soviets knew that

at some point the United States would have to abrogate the

1972 ABM Treaty to achieve a credible research program. If

they could keep the United States strictly tied to the treaty,

then SDI would eventually die a natural death. A debate was

already in progress in the United States as to whether or not

SDI research was permitted under the provisions of the ABM

Treaty. The treaty had traditionally been interpreted in

America so as to forbid the development of antimissile systems, especially space-based systems, but would permit laboratory research.137 This interpretation of the ABM Treaty came

to be referred to as the “narrow interpretation.”

To resolve the debate in the United States as well as counter

the Soviet negotiating position, Secretary of State George

Shultz tasked state’s legal advisor, Abraham Sofaer, to study

the ABM Treaty text and interpret it from a precise legal perspective. What Sofaer discovered was that the text, as written

in “Agreed Statement D,” permitted research, development,

and testing of “other physical principles.” Because SDI was

based on new ideas (other physical principles) not in place in

1972, the broader scope indicated in “Agreed Statement D”

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would therefore be applicable. This interpretation of the treaty

came to be known as the “broad interpretation.”

During the 1972 ABM Treaty negotiations, the Soviets, ever

mindful of ways to word treaties so that they could have a

legalistic future advantage, purposely worded the ABM Treaty

to give them options to develop a new ABM system. “Agreed

Statement D” in the treaty was their means to do that. The

broad interpretation was the original Soviet interpretation of

the ABM Treaty. The American negotiators in 1972, knowing

the ABM systems technology of the day, accepted the narrow

interpretation position, and indeed it was this interpretation

that was briefed to the Senate prior to the treaty ratification.

Until SDI came along, the Soviets adhered to the broad and

the United States the narrow interpretation. When the two

heads of state met at Reykjavik, these positions were

reversed.138

Interpretation of the ABM Treaty was a central issue of contention in talks between the United States and the USSR and

would remain so beyond the Reykjavik summit. In Reykjavik,

the Soviets expectedly held firm to the narrow interpretation.

They tried to get an agreement from the United States as part

of the START talks that the Americans would not withdraw

from the narrow interpretation of the ABM Treaty for a period

of first 20, then 15, and finally 10 years. This was of such

importance to the Soviet position that they were prepared to

offer these concessions in return.

1. They would accept 50 percent cuts in heavy ICBMs.

2. They removed the demand that INF missiles be defined

as strategic systems.

3. They would drop the linkage position of British and

French nuclear weapons with US INF systems.

4. They would accept the “zero option” of SS-20 missiles in

Europe; and would reduce SS-20 systems in Asia to one

hundred.139

Having ascertained that the treaty text permitted the

broader interpretation, the United States aggressively pursued

this position. They challenged the Soviet construction of the

Krasnoyarsk radar site in clear violation of the ABM Treaty

and insisted on its dismantling. At home, support for SDI was

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
growing. The public reaction to Gorbachev’s proposals was “if

Gorbachev is so concerned about SDI, then there must be

something to it.”140

President Reagan was so persuaded that the broad interpretation of ABM was the correct interpretation that he would

make no concessions on SDI. Instead, he offered to conduct all

testing in the presence of Soviet observers and stated that if

tests showed that SDI worked, the United States would be

obligated to share SDI with the Soviet Union. Furthermore, an

agreement could be negotiated on the elimination of all ballistic missiles prior to the deployment of SDI.

While this conversation between the heads of state was going

on, Richard Perle and Ben Linhard were hard at work on a way

to break the impasse. Their proposal would break the ten-year

period of compliance with the ABM Treaty that Gorbachev had

proposed into two parts. In the first five years, strategic nuclear

arsenals would be reduced by half. Both sides would then

abide by the treaty for another five years if all ballistic missiles

were eliminated during that time. After 10 years each side

would be free to deploy a strategic defense system. Reagan

thought the proposal was “imaginative.” Reagan’s only concern

was the practicality of eliminating all ballistic missiles in 10

years. Perle assured him that with the advent of “stealth” technology, the United States would maintain an effective deterrent

force in both bombers and cruise missiles.141

The debate between the heads of state became heated.

Reagan stood his ground effectively in the face of fantastic

Soviet offers. Reagan was serious and determined. So was

Gorbachev. At one point during the debate over the term

strategic versus ballistic, Reagan remarked, “It would be fine

with me if we eliminated all nuclear weapons.” Gorbachev

retorted, “We can do that. Let’s eliminate them. We can eliminate them.” This famous exchange was reported in the press,

and many around the world thought it heralded the end of the

Cold War. But Gorbachev added a caveat. He had made many

concessions. He only wanted one in return: SDI. Without SDI

as an ongoing propellant, Soviet concessions could wither

away over the 10-year nonwithdrawal period from the ABM

Treaty. The superpowers had reached virtual agreement on

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INF and had set out the guidelines for START. Reagan knew

SDI was his “ace in the hole.” It was nonnegotiable.142

Such a leap to total nuclear disarmament was of course

much too idealistic. Both the Soviet and US Joint Staffs would

respond to the “no nukes” exchange with documentation

explaining why neither superpower could totally eliminate

nuclear weapons.143 NATO, staring across the Iron Curtain at

scores of Soviet divisions, breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Roz Ridgeway commented, “A love affair with the status quo

has started. A lot of people are starting to love the bomb.”

Reagan had been bold at Reykjavik. The world was not yet

ready for such boldness.144

Although total elimination of nuclear weapons was not

achieved, the Reykjavik summit was still a watershed event in

the history of negotiations. In the START talks, both sides made

extraordinary progress completing details on weapon ceilings,

warhead sublimits, and counting rules agreements. Each side

agreed to limits of 1,600 delivery vehicles and 6,000 warheads on

all missile systems. The Soviets accepted a 50 percent reduction

in heavy ICBMs. The Soviets no longer insisted British and

French INF systems be included as part of the INF discussions.

The counting rules on bombers favored the United States, and

the discussions on SLCMs were postponed.145

Reagan and Gorbachev had created a format for negotiations

about space and defense involving a nonwithdrawal period from

the ABM Treaty. It included talks on what could be done at the

end of that period and discussion over research, development,

and testing allowed under the ABM Treaty. Reykjavik would

come to be seen as the definition of the term summit. The INF

Treaty was virtually complete. Gorbachev had linked its completion to US concessions on SDI, something Reagan refused to

accept. That issue awaited resolution in Geneva before the INF

Treaty would be signed by both of these leaders at the next summit meeting in Washington.146

Washington

In the year between the Reykjavik and Washington summits,

both heads of state had strong motivation to conclude an armscontrol agreement by 1987. Gorbachev recognized that if he did

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not give the whole disarmament process a new lease on life, the

Soviets might miss an opportunity to make any headway

against SDI. With the 1988 presidential elections approaching,

Reagan’s presidency might be unable to conclude any agreements unless the Soviets acted soon.147 Ambassador Dobrynin

told Secretary of State Shultz that the Soviet goal was to sign

INF before the end of 1987.148 Reagan, of course, wanted a

treaty as a means to solidify his successes vis-à-vis the Soviets,

but he was unwilling to back away from the formula that was

successfully moving them toward the US position.

In February 1987 Gorbachev took the bold step of unlinking

the INF Treaty from SDI and the ABM Treaty. Gorbachev

hoped this move would give “positive impetus” to a full range

of arms-control negotiations. More importantly, the Soviets

were concerned that a new US administration might not pursue Reagan’s “zero option” proposal, and they would lose the

opportunity to get rid of the US Pershing II missiles in

Germany. Reagan quickly took up the Soviet offer, insisting

that any INF agreement “must be effectively verifiable” as a

hedge against Soviet cheating.149

Secretary Shultz and Foreign Minister Shevardnadze began

a series of meetings to iron out some of the remaining issues

on INF. The Soviets had traditionally resisted any attempts at

intrusive verification procedures to determine treaty compliance. Now however, Gorbachev changed tactics to try and

force US negotiators to contemplate the consequences of the

verification policies they had routinely advanced. The Soviets

announced that upon completion of INF they would dismantle

their short-range SS-12 and SS-23 missiles, counterparts of

the West German Pershing I-A missile, putting the ball into the

American court. The Soviets also seemed interested in intrusive verification measures. The intrusive verification plan discussed in Moscow in April 1987 would have placed US and

Soviet inspectors in each other’s factories to count missiles as

they came off the production line. Faced with this prospect,

the CIA and National Security Agency objected. The US intelligence agencies made it clear to the White House that the

Soviets might gather some very valuable technical information

from this arrangement.150 On the issue of verification, the

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Soviet and US Joint Staffs had much more in common than

they had separating them in the talks. Both militaries resisted

the idea of having their opponents enter and inspect sensitive

security areas. On several occasions, neither staff supported a

position agreed to by the negotiators and were relieved when

their counterparts rejected it.151

In this case, Chancellor Helmut Kohl of West Germany came

to the aid of his American ally, when in August he announced

that the Germans would dismantle their Pershing I-A missiles

in response to the Soviet move. The Joint Staff and intelligence

community alike welcomed this agreement, which came to be

known as “double global zero,” as factory inspectors would no

longer be needed because there would be no new missiles to

count. US negotiators at Geneva now presented a revised verification proposal doing away with factory inspection. Soviet

acceptance of the “double global zero” formula led to swift resolution of the remaining issues.152

Still, Shultz had the impression after meeting with

Gorbachev that “this boxer has been hit.” Gorbachev had been

severely criticized in a Central Committee session that had

taken place just before Shultz arrived in Moscow. Boris Yeltsin

had confronted Gorbachev that reforms were not proceeding

quickly enough, and hard-line Communist Ygor Ligachev

attacked Gorbachev from the right, claiming reforms were proceeding too quickly. This political infighting, combined with

the strains on the Soviet economy, were beginning to take

their toll on the once self-sure general secretary.153

In June, President Reagan toured Europe. The highlight of the

visit was a stop in West Berlin, where Reagan gave one of his

most celebrated presidential speeches. With the Brandenburg

Gate as a backdrop, Reagan challenged Gorbachev to “tear down

this wall.” His words resonated throughout the world. On 30

October, Shevardnadze arrived in Washington for another meeting with Shultz and announced that Gorbachev would come to

Washington for a summit. The Soviets were ready to sign the INF

Treaty.154

At the Washington summit, ceremony and substance were

woven together. The main event was the signing of the INF

Treaty. The two leaders signed the treaty in the East Room of

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the White House. Significantly, the Soviets had changed from

their immovable position to accepting Reagan’s “zero option” of

eliminating the entire class of intermediate-range ballistic

missiles. The Soviets would eliminate approximately 1,500

deployed warheads, and the United States about 350. The

treaty also included the most comprehensive verification

measures ever agreed to up to that time. Those measures

included enhanced national technical means as well as pioneering on-site inspection provisions, such as baseline data

inspections, inspections of closed facilities, and short-notice

inspections of declared sites. The teams would also observe

the elimination of missile systems.155 Gorbachev saw the INF

Treaty as a step out of Cold War and a precursor to success

with START.156

Yet as Reagan declared at the signing ceremony, the real

importance of the INF Treaty transcended numbers. While

only eliminating about four percent of the superpowers’

nuclear arsenals, it was the first superpower treaty of any kind

to provide for the destruction of an entire class of nuclear

weapons and to provide for on-site monitoring of that destruction. Over a three-year period, 859 US and 1,836 Soviet

nuclear missiles would be eliminated.157

Although the capstone event of the Washington summit was

the signing of the INF Treaty, in the trenches work continued

on strategic arms limitations. Eduard Shevardnadze told

Shultz: “The INF negotiations are a kind of academy, preparing the two sides for more difficult verification problems in

START.”158 Agreements were reached on guidelines for effective verification of the START Treaty by building upon verification provisions of the INF Treaty. However, each side disagreed on the issue of weapons sublimits. The original numbers

from Reykjavik of 1,600 delivery vehicles and 6,000 warheads

were still accepted, but neither side could agree on the sublimit of the total number of ballistic missile warheads.

In the final meeting of the summit, the new Secretary of

Defense Frank Carlucci, and new National Security Advisor

Gen Colin Powell, joined Secretary of State Shultz in talks with

the Soviets. Marshal Akhromeyev greatly appreciated seeing

fellow military men, especially another general, in the talks.

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For the Soviets too, having the US military represented

seemed to indicate a new level of seriousness in the discussions. At one point Carlucci, seeing an opportunity to make

progress with the Soviets, whispered to Shultz to suggest

4,900 warheads as the sublimit on ballistic missile warheads.

Shultz, who knew Marshal Akhromeyev well by now, recommended to Carlucci “You do it as secretary of defense and look

right at Marshal Akhromeyev when you speak.” Akhromeyev

quickly agreed to this proposal. The importance of having the

right people make proposals in negotiations is often as essential as the proposals themselves.159

Progress had now been made on START with the agreements on weapons ceilings, warhead sublimits, and guidelines

for verification. Disagreement still remained on ABM issues.

Both sides concluded the Washington summit by “agreeing to

disagree” over ABM. They agreed to observe the ABM Treaty

“as signed in 1972.” The Soviets interpreted this agreement as

giving them the freedom to develop their own SDI program

while restricting the United States to the narrow interpretation

of the ABM Treaty. The United States, however, would stand

firm on its understanding of the broad interpretation.160 Both

sides also agreed to meet in Moscow in 1988.

Judged in political terms, the Washington summit was, as

Reagan called it, a “clear success.” Progress had been made on

START, the INF Treaty had been signed, and slight movement

had been made on ABM issues. But while the summit was

hailed as a step toward peace by the world in general and the

populations of the United States and Soviet Union in particular, many conservatives were concerned that the INF Treaty

would lead to an imbalance in the East-West balance of power.

Many European conservatives were concerned that the United

States was distancing itself from Europe.161 Reagan and

Shultz tried to reassure allies that with over 4,000 tactical

nuclear weapons remaining in Europe, US commitments there

were still strong and the balance of power still favored

NATO.162 Nonetheless, ratification of the INF Treaty would be

a tough battle for the Reagan Administration before its final

summit in Moscow.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Moscow

By the spring of 1988, global expectations toward arms control and peace were still climbing. The continuation of executive-level dialogues between the superpowers was certainly

encouraging. Global tensions seemed to be easing. There was

a sense that the Cold War itself might be coming to an end.

The Soviets had moved towards the American position in

arms-control negotiations.

There were still differences remaining between the superpowers, and it became evident before the Moscow summit that

there would be no START treaty for Reagan and Gorbachev to

sign. Although Paul Nitze and his Soviet counterparts at

Geneva had both put forward a number of innovative proposals, the underlying gap over SDI was too great a chasm to

bridge. Reagan realized this early in 1988. He would not use

SDI as “a bargaining chip.” He saw the summit in Moscow—

the heart of Soviet soil—as a golden opportunity to make a

case for democracy and freedom. Although restrained on

human rights issues at Geneva, Reagan had marched steadily

forward on this issue at each subsequent summit meeting.

Therefore, Reagan gave the Soviets advance notice that he

intended to make human rights issues the focus of the

Moscow summit.163

In the same way General Secretary Gorbachev did not

expect to sign a strategic arms reduction agreement at the

summit meeting. After his April meeting with Secretary Shultz,

he was hopeful that the US Senate would ratify the INF Treaty

“in compensation” before Reagan’s arrival in the USSR.

Gorbachev knew that Reagan’s term was ending and that

Moscow would have to deal with a new administration.

In January 1988, the Soviets had tabled a new draft defense

and space agreement as a protocol to the draft START text.

The Soviets mainly wanted some accord on space weapons

that would have the legal impact as the START or ABM

treaties. This protocol declared that the agreements would

“cease to be in force if either party proceeded with practical

development and deployment of an ABM system beyond the

provisions of the ABM Treaty.” At the Moscow summit,

Gorbachev reiterated this condition, insisting that a START

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agreement could not be concluded unless the narrow interpretation of the ABM Treaty was upheld.164

Despite the low expectations, Gorbachev did expect agreement on a ballistic missile launch notification (BMLN) accord.

Progress had also been made on the conventional forces discussions in Vienna and the Soviets were hoping to continue

moving forward in Moscow. The Soviets wanted to again

address the issue of SLCMs, but realistically anticipated that

most of the work would be done with the new administration.

Although US expectations of the summit were also guarded,

the American delegation similarly hoped to make some progress

on arms control in Moscow. The delegation expected to sign the

BMLN accord and reach agreement on road/rail-mobile ICBMs.

Although the talks in Vienna were seen as promising, the

Americans were convinced that the Soviets were only willing to

continue discussing further cuts as another avenue to stall or

derail SDI. The US delegation saw any linkage to SDI as a dangerous hook that should be avoided.

The Moscow summit concluded with the signing of two modest arms-control agreements. Each side agreed that mobile

ICBMs would be confined to restricted areas with right of dispersal for occasional operations and exercises. They also

agreed to notify one another once dispersal began. They also

agreed on the BMLN accord, designed to reduce the risk of

nuclear war. This agreement required each side to notify the

other at least 24 hours in advance of all ICBM and SLBM test

launches.165 Neither side pretended that these accords were

important.

The Moscow summit symbolized that the superpowers were at

last rising from the grips of the Cold War. Speaking at Guildhall

in London on 3 June, Reagan hailed it as a turning point in EastWest relations that was ushering in “an era of peace and freedom

for all.”166 While both sides still maintained formidable nuclear

arsenals, they had turned the corner in superpower relations.

Reagan had restored American might and credibility and laid a

firm foundation in the arena of arms control for the Bush

Administration to build upon. The world had changed considerably from the dark shadows of the early 1980s.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Conclusions

As President Reagan left office, US-Soviet relations were better than they had been since World War II. This change is all

the more remarkable when one contrasts these results with

the situation Reagan faced when he took office. The 1970s had

been a dismal period for America that had seen defeat in

Vietnam and a foreign policy marked by uncertainty and confusion. Soviet policy was at its zenith during the period,

achieving a perceived strategic weapons superiority and an

“irreversible” geopolitical advantage through the Brezhnev

Doctrine.

By answering the Soviets with the Four-Part Agenda,

Reagan laid out a plan to move beyond containment and

reverse the “window of vulnerability” that resulted from the

policies of the 1970s. His strategic modernization program

rejuvenated US strategic capabilities so that the United States

could confront the Soviet Union from a renewed position of

strength. By insisting that NATO adhere to the INF deployment schedule, Reagan helped to solidify the resolve of the

Alliance and restored US negotiating capital. For the Soviets,

his Strategic Defense Initiative spearheaded the information/technology revolution they feared, and confronted them

with a costly arms race at a time when the Soviet economy

needed huge capital investments at home. SDI kept the

Soviets at the table, willing to make concessions.

Reagan’s priorities and policies did more than simply “bankrupt” the Soviet Union. Fundamentally, they rebuilt American

power and created incentives for the Soviets to negotiate on US

terms. US strategy dictated that the focal point of arms-control

policy was to ensure US security. Within that context, American

arms-control negotiators were free to use arms control to complement and not substitute for US strategy. In this way, US

arms-control policy under Reagan was focused on the three

objectives of arms control—preventing war, limiting damages

if war occurs, and lowering costs of preparing for war.

By reducing destabilizing systems like ICBMs, in which the

Soviets had so heavily invested, the American delegation

sought to restore stability and prevent war. Indeed it can be

argued that by achieving arms reductions, such as in START

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and the INF Treaty, Reagan sought to both prevent war and

lower the costs of preparing for war. As Reagan envisioned his

SDI program, war would be prevented by changing the paradigm from offense to defense.167 As the limited capabilities of

SDI technologies became better known, SDI came to be seen

as a means to limit the damages to the United States if nuclear

war were to occur. By emphasizing precise treaty language

and intrusive verification procedures, Reagan had rewritten

the traditional approach to arms control and gave his successor a solid foundation upon which to complete the START

accords.

Many believe that the Cold War ended with the Reagan

Administration. But in 1988, the Berlin Wall still divided

Europe. The Soviet’s Eastern European block would not collapse until 1989. The disintegration of communism in the

USSR would not occur until 1990. It would be left to the Bush

Administration to complete the START Treaty and proclaim “a

new world order.” 

The Reagan Administration’s approach to arms control was

in a sense a litmus test for determining the true value of arms

control in relation to first-strike stability. Despite the Soviet

Union’s best efforts to preserve first-strike counterforce dominance, Reagan’s negotiating team stayed focused on his major

foreign policy theme of denying the Soviets a first-strike capability. The American delegation reflected Reagan’s optimism

and confidence that a strong America and her people would

ultimately triumph over a corrupt and evil empire. Reagan’s

firm belief in negotiating from a position of strength and his

refusal to compromise SDI undermined Soviet strategy.

Although Reagan may not have ended the Cold War, when he

left office the end was in sight. 

Notes

1. Kiron Skinner, Annelise Anderson, and Martin Anderson, Reagan: In

His Own Hand (New York: Free Press, 2001), 64 and 484.

2. Hedrick Smith, The New Russians (New York: Random House, 1990),

22–23.

3. John Spanier, American Foreign Policy Since World War II (Washington,

D.C.: Congressional Quarterly Press, 1992), 215 and 266.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
4. John L. Gaddis, Strategy of Containment (New York: Oxford University

Press, 1982), 320–22, cited in Spanier, American Foreign Policy, 272.

5. Skinner, 83–84.

6. Kerry M. Kartchner, Negotiating START: Strategic Arms Reduction

Talks and the Quest for Strategic Stability (New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction

Publishers, 1992), 24 and 65–66. The Soviets maintained that the SS-25

was an improvement of the existing, silo-based, SS-13. However, the SS-25

was not only mobile, but also was larger, carried twice the throw weight, and

was more sophisticated. Dr. Kartchner’s work is an excellent source on the

START negotiations. My thanks go to Dr. Kartchner for his help and insights

on this project.

7. Caspar W. Weinberger et al., Soviet Military Power, 1985 (Washington,

D.C.: US Government Printing Office [GPO], 1985), preface and 46.

8. House, Hearings Before the Strategic Defense Initiative Panel of the

Committee on Armed Services, 100th Congress, 4 October 1988, 474.

9. Skinner, 81–82.

10. Ibid., 84.

11. Lt Gen Brent Scowcroft, USAF, retired, telephone interview with

author, 2 July 2001. My grateful thanks go to General Scowcroft for his wisdom and insights.

12. Kartchner, 56–57.

13. Ibid., 57.

14. Caspar W. Weinberger et al., Soviet Military Power, 1986 (Washington,

D.C.: GPO, 1985), 51. The Soviets were also working on antisatellite technologies and would oppose the United States pursuing such a counter program.

15. Kartchner, 8–9.

16. Ibid., 56–57.

17. Ibid., 10–12. Also see The Military Implications of the Proposed SALT II

Treaty, Report of the Senate Armed Services Committee, 20 December 1979.

18. Forrest Waller, interviewed by author, 15 May 2001.

19. Kartchner, 12.

20. George P. Shultz, telephone interview with author, 13 June 2001. My

sincere thanks go to Secretary Shultz for his invaluable assistance and insight.

21. US Arms Control and Disarmament Agency report; The Soviet

Propaganda Campaign Against NATO, October 1983; and The Soviet

Propaganda Campaign Against the U.S. Strategic Defense Initiative, August

1986, cited in Kartchner, 79.

22. Edward M. Kennedy and Mark O. Hatfield, Freeze! How You Can Help

Prevent Nuclear War (New York: Bantam Books, 1982), 79. The KennedyHatfield resolution called for an immediate freeze of nuclear weapons, with

the goal of an eventual build-down to arrest the arms race. The JacksonWarner resolution, although similarly calling for a freeze, allowed the United

States to catch up to the USSR before the freeze would go into effect.

23. Kartchner, 63–64.

24. George P. Shultz, Turmoil and Triumph: My Years as Secretary of

State (New York: Scribner’s and Sons, 1993), 586–87.

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25. Ibid., 23–24.

26. Ibid., 24.

27. Shultz, Turmoil, 266.

28. Spanier, 278.

29. Shultz, Turmoil, 373.

30. Kennedy, 144.

31. Ronald Reagan, “Address to the Nation on Defense and National

Security,” (Star Wars) speech, 23 March 1983.

32. Reagan used this text for a radio broadcast entitled “Peace” in April,

1975, citing Laurence W. Beilenson, Treaty Trap: A History of the

Performance of Political Treaties by the United States and European Nations

(Washington, D.C.: Public Affairs Press, 1969), cited in Skinner, 8. 

33. William Snyder and James Brown, eds., Defense Policy in the Reagan

Administration (Washington, D.C.: National Defense University Press, 1988),

xvi–xvii.

34. Bruce G. Blair, The Logic of Accidental Nuclear War (Washington,

D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1993), 6.

35. Ronald Reagan, “Remarks to Members of the National Press Club on

Arms Reduction and Nuclear Weapons,” speech, 18 November 1981.

36. Kartchner, 20.

37. Donald Bruce Johnson, comp., National Party Platforms of 1980

(Urbana, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 1980), 211–12, cited in Kartchner, 20.

38. Kennedy, 146.

39. Shultz interview. 

40. Kartchner, 20.

41. Skinner, 484.

42. Kartchner, 20–21.

43. Blair, 6–7.

44. House, Hearings Before the Strategic Defense Initiative Panel, 473–74.

45. Reagan’s radio broadcast on SALT II, 28 November 1978, cited in

Skinner, 85.

46. Kartchner, 32.

47. Ibid., 32.

48. Waller interview. 

49. Kartchner, 3–4.

50. Ibid., 36–37.

51. United States Department of State, Bureau of Public Affairs, Security

and Arms Control: The Search for a More Stable Peace (Washington, D.C.:

June 1983), 13. Also cited in Kartchner, 37–38. 

52. Kartchner, 37–38.

53. Spanier, 209. See also Kartchner, 38.

54. Kartchner, 38.

55. Ibid., 39.

56. Waller interview. 

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
57. Arms Control and Disarmament Agency (ACDA), Arms Control: U.S.

Objectives, Negotiating Efforts, Problems of Soviet Noncompliance (Washington,

D.C.: ACDA, 1984).

58. Kartchner, 40.

59. Weinberger, Soviet Military Power, 1985, preface and 46. See also

“The Soviet Space Challenge,” DOD pamphlet, November 1987.

60. Kartchner, 41.

61. Reagan’s radio broadcast, 13 March 1978, cited in Skinner, 78.

62. Kartchner, 41–42.

63. Waller interview.

64. Kartchner, 42–43. See also ACDA, 49–50.

65. Kartchner, 43.

66. Ibid., 43–44.

67. Spanier, 266–70.

68. Shultz, Turmoil, 478.

69. Skinner, 25.

70. Kartchner, xiii–xiv.

71. Shultz, Turmoil, 504.

72. Shultz interview.

73. Lou Cannon, President Reagan: The Role of a Lifetime (New York:

Simon & Schuster, 1991), 306–7.

74. Ibid., 306.

75. Shultz, Turmoil, 479–80.

76. George Will, “The Price of Power,” Newsweek, 7 November 1983, cited

in Shultz, Turmoil, 345.

77. Shultz, Turmoil, 479–80.

78. Shultz interview.

79. Waller interview. 

80. Shultz, Turmoil, 377.

81. Skinner, 78.

82. Ronald Reagan, “Address before a Joint Session of Congress on the

State of the Union,” speech, 25 January 1983.

83. Spanier, 271.

84. Cannon, 306–7.

85. Senate Confirmation Hearings, 13 July 1982, cited in Shultz, Turmoil,

18–22.

86. Shultz, Turmoil, 479–80.

87. Cannon, 309–10.

88. Shultz, Turmoil, 144 and 990. Also Waller interview.

89. Caspar W. Weinberger, testimony before Senator Donald Riegle Jr., 3

February 1983, cited in Caspar W. Weinberger, Fighting for Peace: Seven

Critical Years in the Pentagon (New York: Warner Books, 1990), 75–76.

90. Christopher Simpson, National Security Directives of the Reagan and

Bush Administrations: The Declassified History of U.S. Political and Military

Policy, 1981–1991 (Boulder: Westview Press, 1995), 80.

91. Waller interview.

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92. Ibid.

93. Ibid.

94. Ibid.

95. Shultz, Turmoil, 377.

96. Scowcroft interview.

97. Shultz interview.

98. Ibid.; also Scowcroft, telephone interview; and Waller interview.

99. Waller interview.

100. House, Hearings Before the Strategic Defense Initiative Panel, 483.

101. Shultz, Turmoil, 167–71.

102. Shultz interview.

103. Shultz, Turmoil, 503.

104. Ibid., 504–5.

105. Shultz interview.

106. Ibid.

107. Shultz, Turmoil, 510–14. Matlock played much more of a key role in

the Geneva summit than this. He was commissioned to prepare 25 papers

for the president to get ready for the summit. These papers would explain

the Soviet objectives, strategy, and negotiating tactics as well as Russian

culture and history. Matlock was ideally suited for this task. In addition to

his knowledge of Russian culture, Matlock understood that Reagan learned

by relating information to his own experiences. Thus he was able to engross

the president in these materials. Cannon, 748–49.

108. Waller interview.

109. Mikhail S. Gorbachev, Memoirs (New York: Doubleday, 1996), 181,

404–5.

110. Kartchner, 69.

111. Spanier, 290–91.

112. Shultz, Turmoil, 365–66.

113. Ken Adelman, “ACDA Report to Congress,” Congressional Record, 5

August 1986, 19186.

114. Simpson, 469.

115. Fred Ikle, Congressional Record, 19174.

116. Shultz, Turmoil, 536 and 575.

117. Waller interview.

118. Adelman, Congressional Record, 19186.

119. Ibid., 348.

120. Gorbachev, 401–5.

121. Yuli Kvitsinsky had jousted with Paul Nitze during “the walk in the

woods” negotiations early in the administration. Kampelman described

Kvitsinsky as being “imaginative, a doer; he tries.” Shultz, Turmoil, 583, 596,

and 599–601.

122. Ibid., 604–5.

123. Skinner, x–xi. Also cited in Shultz, Turmoil, 602–3.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
124. Federation of American Scientists website, Strategic Arms

Reduction Treaty (START I) Chronology, http://www.fas.org/nuke/control/start1/chron.htm. Also cited in Shultz, Turmoil, 605–6.

125. Shultz, Turmoil, 605-6. Also see Cannon, 754–55.

126. Cannon, 755.

127. Shultz, Turmoil, 602.

128. Cannon, 755.

129. Gorbachev, 405.

130. Weinberger, Fighting For Peace, 323.

131. Shultz, Turmoil, 753.

132. Ibid., 719–20.

133. Gorbachev, 414.

134. Cannon, 756.

135. Ibid., 758–59.

136. Shultz, Turmoil, 704.

137. Cannon, 759.

138. There are several excellent, detailed explanations of the changing

interpretations of the ABM Treaty. For detail of this impact during the

Reagan administration, see Shultz, Turmoil, 578–80, 591–93, 883–84, and

876. Also cited in Cannon, 758–60, and House, Hearings Before the Strategic

Defense Initiative Panel, 464–70. To review the ABM Treaty text, see

http://www.fas.org/nuke/control/abmt/text/abm2.htm.

139. Kartchner, 241–42. Also cited in Gorbachev, 416–18. On this last

concession, Shultz believed that Gorbachev was willing to eliminate all SS20s, but was testing Reagan to see how the president would respond if he

could not completely achieve a “zero option” on this issue. For more on this,

see Shultz, Turmoil, 776.

140. Shultz, Turmoil, 776.

141. Cannon, 767.

142. Ibid., 762–77.

143. Waller interview.

144. Shultz, Turmoil, 777.

145. Kartchner, 241.

146. Shultz, Turmoil, 776.

147. Cannon, 771–72.

148. Shultz, Turmoil, 883.

149. Cannon, 771–72.

150. Ibid., 772–73.

151. Waller interview.

152. Cannon, 772–73.

153. Shultz, Turmoil, 1001–2.

154. Cannon, 773–74.

155. Shultz, Turmoil, 1005. See also http://www.fas.org/nuke/control/

inf/text/inf.htm, for a summary of the INF Treaty text.

156. Gorbachev, 442–43.

157. Cannon, 774–75.

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158. Shultz, Turmoil, 1005.

159. Ibid., 1014.

160. Kartchner, 244–45.

161. Cannon, 778–79.

162. Shultz, Turmoil, 1082.

163. Cannon, 782–83.

164. Kartchner, 245–46.

165. Shultz, Turmoil, 1102. Also cited on FAS website, http://www.fas.

org/nuke/control/start1/chron.htm.

166. Cannon, 790.

167. For an excellent discussion on the subject of nuclear weapons

defense, see Michael Mandelbaum, The Nuclear Future (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell

University Press, 1983), 44–66.

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Chapter 6

National Security Strategy,

Arms Control, and the US Air Force:

The Reagan Years, 1981–88

Forrest E. Waller Jr.

The Reagan Administration took office in 1981 having made

arms control a national issue during the presidential campaign of the preceding year. President Reagan believed that the

US-Soviet SALT II Treaty sacrificed important American strategic

interests and presented to the Soviet Union unilateral strategic

advantages. Reagan objected to the treaty on four grounds. First,

SALT II did not address the most pressing strategic nuclear issue

facing both sides—the potential growth in deployed nuclear

weapons. SALT II capped deployed delivery systems, but it did

not limit growth in deployed warheads. The United States and

Soviet Union had begun to deploy multiple independently targetable reentry vehicles (MIRV) aboard strategic ballistic missiles in the mid/late 1970s. MIRV technology caused deployed

warhead numbers to grow geometrically. The United States

deployed MIRVs first and enjoyed an initial advantage.

However, the Soviet Union had made a larger investment in

ballistic missile forces than the United States, and Soviet missiles carried larger payloads. The combination of more missiles

and greater missile throw weight meant that the Soviet Union

had the ability to deploy significantly more nuclear weapons

than the United States unless Washington chose to expand its

retaliatory force. An expansion of the nuclear arms race did

not promise to contribute to US security, and in Reagan’s

view, neither did a nuclear arms-control treaty that failed to

reduce warhead numbers.

Second, Reagan believed that SALT II failed to contribute to

nuclear stability. The treaty allowed only the Soviet Union to

have heavy ICBMs. Soviet heavy ICBMs armed with MIRVs

173
had the combination of warhead yield, warhead numbers, and

missile accuracy to carry out a devastating first strike on

American land-based nuclear forces and their command and

control systems. Many defense analysts feared that Soviet

heavy ICBMs had inherent combat characteristics that would

lead to early use of nuclear weapons in a crisis; exactly the situation all analysts believed must be avoided. Reagan did not

want an equal US right to deploy heavy ICBMs. He wanted an

arms-control agreement that preferentially reduced destabilizing weapon systems, particularly heavy ICBMs. 

Third, Reagan agreed with many other US political figures

(e.g., Sen. Henry “Scoop” Jackson, D-Wash.) that bilateral

arms-control agreements should be equal agreements. Armscontrol treaties must not grant special privileges or advantages to one side or the other. The Carter Administration had

violated this principle when it granted Moscow the unilateral

right to possess heavy ICBMs.

Last, Reagan believed, as a matter of principle, that armscontrol agreements must be verifiable. The Islamic Revolution

in Iran had resulted in loss of important US technical intelligence collection capabilities needed to verify Soviet strategic

nuclear programs. Many defense analysts doubted whether

the United States could verify SALT II effectively without some

form of on-site inspection. Since SALT II had no provision for

inspections, Reagan believed the treaty failed to meet a fundamental arms-control requirement. For all these reasons, the

Reagan Administration concluded that SALT II was fatally

flawed. The administration did not pursue the treaty or

attempt to secure the Senate’s advice and consent to ratification, although Reagan did not formally abandon SALT II until

well into his second term. Reagan replaced the failed Strategic

Arms Limitation Talks with a more ambitious effort, the

Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (START). The objectives of

START were a 50 percent reduction in strategic nuclear warheads, selective emphasis on the most destabilizing nuclear

systems (ICBM), equality between the parties, and effective

verification.

During the Reagan years, United States arms-control institutions reached their evolutionary peak. These institutions

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
were found in the bureaus of the Arms Control and

Disarmament Agency, bureaus of the Department of State,

Directorate for International Negotiations of the Joint Staff,

Office of the Undersecretary of Defense for Policy, Office of the

Undersecretary of Defense for Acquisition, Directorate for

National Security Programs of the Department of Energy, and

Arms Control Intelligence Staff of the director of Central

Intelligence. In addition, each of the armed services had armscontrol staffs at their headquarters in Washington and also in

their major commands. During this period, the United States

government arms-control effort employed an estimated

2,500–3,000 civilian and military personnel. Many of these

people had supported, or negotiated, arms-control treaties for

more than 20 years.

Similarly, the Air Force organizations responsible for armscontrol matters were at their evolutionary peak. They included

the International Negotiations Division of Headquarters Air

Force, Air Force Studies and Analysis, Directorate for Intelligence

Estimates of Air Force Intelligence, and Directorate for Plans at

Strategic Air Command (SAC). The burden of arms-control policy, negotiation support, treaty implementation, and compliance

fell to the Air Staff’s International Negotiations Division.

Although it began as a small staff in the early 1980s, it had

grown to become one of the largest divisions in Headquarters Air

Force by the late 1980s. More than two dozen officers were

assigned to the division.

The Challenge

Within the US national security community, there was general agreement on the nature of the arms-control challenge

facing the United States, particularly in the nuclear arena. The

National Intelligence Officer for Strategic Programs during this

period, Dr. Lawrence Gershwin, completed annually a National

Intelligence Estimate (NIE 11-3/8) entitled Soviet Forces and

Capabilities for Intercontinental Nuclear Conflict. The estimate

projected Soviet strategic nuclear force growth for the next 10

years. Even at the lower end of the projections, the estimate

forecast that Soviet strategic nuclear forces would reach

numerical and technological equality with the United States

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NATIONAL SECURITY STRATEGY
no later than the late 1990s. At the higher end of the projections, the estimate forecast Soviet levels of deployed warheads

that would have required the United States to undertake

expensive modernization programs just to stay even.

Gershwin’s NIE findings informed two other important studies

of US-Soviet nuclear forces: the Joint Staff’s Red Integrated

Strategic Offensive Plan (RISOP) and the Office of Net

Assessment’s judgments about the relative strengths of Soviet

and US strategic nuclear forces. The former evaluated how well

US forces could achieve their wartime objectives. The latter

assessed whether trends in the respective strategic forces

resulted in net advantages for one side or the other. Each of

these efforts underscored the need for strategic nuclear arms

control, because additional strategic nuclear weapons appeared

to add nothing to US and allied security, nuclear stability, or the

predictability of the US-Soviet strategic relationship.

American allies strongly supported strategic nuclear arms

control as a means of improving security, stability, and predictability with the Eastern Bloc. Allied public support for

nuclear arms reductions was very strong, as was public opposition to the deployment of new nuclear systems. One of the

great challenges to NATO solidarity during the Reagan years

was the deployment of intermediate nuclear forces in Western

Europe as part of the dual-track decision. Public demonstrations against deployment of US Pershing IIs and groundlaunched cruise missiles in Europe occurred in nearly every

NATO country. Public support for nuclear arms control was

strong in the United States, too. American Catholic bishops

issued a pastoral letter condemning the nuclear arms race

and US nuclear deterrence policies. Large demonstrations

occurred at US nuclear weapon development facilities. Many

in the US Congress supported the Zablocki Amendment, legislation requiring a moratorium on nuclear testing. Western

publics looked to arms control to moderate the arms race,

establish a nuclear balance of power, and improve mutual

confidence. Essentially, the Western publics expected successful nuclear arms-control efforts to lead to “normal” political relations between the United States and Soviet Union.

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Most arms-control professionals were less optimistic about

the contribution they thought arms control could make.

Arms-Control Efforts

The Reagan years were a period of intense arms-control

activity. Much of that activity succeeded, although not during

his time in office. So successful were the efforts Reagan began

that the Department of Defense feared in the early 1990s that

it might be required to implement simultaneously the

Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE) Treaty, IntermediateRange Nuclear Forces (INF) Treaty, Chemical Weapons

Convention, and Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty. In addition,

four utilitarian arms-control arrangements either were signed

or entered into force during the Reagan years. These included

the Convention on Conventional Weapons (Land Mine

Protocol), Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe

(CSCE) Stockholm Document, Missile Technology Control

Regime, and Ballistic Missile Launch Notification Agreement. 

Arms-control activities during the Reagan years set the

stage for the unsurpassed successes that occurred during

“Reagan III” the administration of President George Bush.

More than a dozen treaties were signed or entered into force

during his administration. The Reagan years set the stage for

arms-control policy to become one of the most successful policy arenas in which the United States government operated.

The United States Air Force, like the other armed services,

routinely supported US national arms-control objectives. In

general, Air Force senior staff understood the impact arms

control could have on shaping the threat environment and

adding predictability to it. Air Force senior staff also appreciated that Congress liked to see progress in arms control before

agreeing to nuclear modernization programs. The Air Force

had been a strong supporter of SALT II. Among the Joint

Chiefs of Staff, only Gen Lew Allen, chief of staff of the Air

Force, had strayed beyond the weak JCS characterization, “a

modest but useful step,” in describing the SALT II Treaty. The

Air Force supported SALT II, because it contributed to concrete Air Force objectives and strategic force modernization.

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The Air Force’s primary arms-control objective during the

late Cold War period was force structure preservation. Many of

the arms-control initiatives of the period had arms reduction

as a goal. The Air Staff division responsible for arms control

coordinated closely with the Air Force major commands

(MAJCOM) most affected by these initiatives: Strategic Air

Command, Tactical Air Command, and US Air Forces Europe.

Long arms-control negotiations, which were the rule, facilitated internal Air Force coordination. The joint organizational

arrangements and authorities in effect at the time maximized

Air Force influence in its areas of responsibility. The Air Staff’s

relationship with Strategic Air Command was particularly

close and institutionally significant for the Air Force armscontrol effort.

Headquarters SAC was unique in the Department of

Defense (DOD) and in the Air Force. As the only specified command (a single-service combat command controlled by the

National Command Authorities) and an Air Force major command, SAC was the United States’ principal nuclear war

fighter. With its commanding sense of institutional identity

and operational focus, SAC was older than the US Air Force

and without peer within it. And in the Department of Defense,

only one institution, the United States Marine Corps, was its

analog. Strategic Air Command was the training ground for

virtually all Air Force staff officers assigned to arms-control

positions in DOD. Assignment to influential arms-control billets on the Air Staff or elsewhere came at the approval or with

the recommendation of SAC’s senior staff.

Preservation of operational flexibility was another Air Force

arms-control objective. Arms-control negotiations during this

period increasingly ventured beyond limiting numbers of

“things” to restricting production, testing, research and development, training, and deployment of forces. Air Force doctrine

was undergoing a rebirth during the late Cold War period

owing to the rapid expansion in precision-munitions technology. Arms-control agreements potentially prohibited the Air

Force from waging the kind of air warfare that its advanced

technology permitted and its modern doctrine demanded.

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The Link between National

and Air Force Arms-Control Objectives

In general, the United States government sought three

objectives in its arms-control initiatives: security, stability,

and predictability. Most administrations defined security as

preserving the peace by reducing the likelihood of war, improving relations with adversaries, and strengthening alliances.

Arms control was said to contribute directly to the first two

and indirectly, through allied consultation, with the last.

Security

The Air Force defined security in concrete terms. Arms control advanced US security when it allowed the Air Force to

meet commander in chief (CINC) requirements and support

the war-fighter’s objectives.

In the strategic arms-control arena, the requirements of the

Single Integrated Operations Plan (SIOP) dominated all other

considerations. Air Force arms-control staffs paid close attention to force structure objectives, modernization requirements,

war plans, mission needs statements, and operational requirements documents in their analysis of arms-control positions.

In particular, they paid attention to SAC. Arms control contributed to the Air Force objectives by shaping the threat environment and protecting Air Force operational preferences.

Stability

The US government tended to define stability in terms of the

arms race, crisis management, intra-war deterrence, and

escalation control. Arms control contributed to these by

reducing incentives the forces themselves may have added to

unwanted escalation.

The Air Force defined stability as numerical balance

between opposing forces. In so doing, the Air Force sought to

protect the qualitative advantages resident in its own forces

and in Air Force operational practices. The Air Force and

Strategic Air Command were persuaded that—weapon-forweapon and man-for-man—SAC combat crews, US technology,

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and Air Force operational practices were far superior to their

Soviet adversary. 

Predictability

The US government defined predictability as a process

resulting in increased defense planning certainty, confidence

in arms-control compliance, and ability to take corrective

steps to restore stability. Arms control contributed to predictability by creating regimes for verification, confidence

building, and transparency. The Air Force wanted to be certain

that arms-control agreements would permit it to operate its

forces according to its preferred operational style.

The Air Force clearly had a narrower perspective, operated at

a different level of detail, and spoke a different arms-control

dialect than the national government. These differences are

illustrated most clearly in the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty.

Prior to the START negotiations, Strategic Air Command and

the Joint Staff completed a deterrence study identifying a

requirement for many thousands of warheads to carry out the

SIOP with a responsible degree of risk. The Reagan

Administration had settled on a 50 percent reduction in strategic nuclear warheads, and then specified a ceiling of 6,000 warheads. The 6,000-warhead ceiling was thousands of warheads

lower than the SIOP requirement. The administration’s 50 percent/6,000-warhead decision set the Air Force’s nuclear armscontrol agenda for the next nine years. Fundamentally, the disconnection between the arms-control objective and the

war-fighting objective required something to “give.” The Air

Force’s goal was to make sure that the administration’s 6,000-

warhead ceiling literally did not mean what it said.

The Air Force was most concerned about its heavy bomber

force structure. Heavy bombers carried more warheads than

the other legs of the triad under some conditions, and their

value was constantly being questioned due to the strength of

Soviet air defenses. A 6,000-warhead limit promised to cut the

bomber force significantly. Over a period of eight years, the Air

Staff, SAC, and Joint Staff supported a series of arms-control

positions that effectively discounted the number of weapons

attributed to heavy bombers. These positions included

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• Attributing no nuclear weapons to heavy bombers.

Heavy bombers had not been included in SALT II limits,

and the Air Force tried to continue the practice. The argument for overlooking heavy bombers was that they contributed to nuclear stability. That is, they were incapable

of carrying out a first strike and were ideally suited to

retaliation. The US government argued this position in

presidential summits and in Geneva negotiations for two

years. Eventually, the United States had to discard the

position. Frankly, it was preposterous to exclude all heavy

bomber weapons from accountability, particularly as the

United States and Soviet Union were deploying airlaunched cruise missiles on a larger fraction of their

respective bomber forces.

• Attributing only one warhead to each heavy bomber.

This position was just as unacceptable as attributing no

weapons to heavy bombers for exactly the same reasons.

• Attributing one warhead to each penetrating heavy

bomber and 10 warheads to each bomber equipped

for cruise missiles. This position was known as the

bomber discount rule, and eventually both sides accepted

it. Although it substantially increased the number of warheads attributed to the US heavy bomber force, it allowed

the Air Force to preserve the bomber force structure called

for in its programmatic plans at the time. The Soviets also

received favorable treatment for its heavy bombers. Soviet

long-range naval aviation flew heavy bombers for antisubmarine warfare, surface strike, and reconnaissance

purposes. All these were excluded from the count, even

though the majority of them were capable of delivering

nuclear weapons against targets in US territory. All Soviet

Backfire bombers, a nuclear-armed intermediate-range

bomber whose range allowed it to strike targets across the

United States from bases in the northern USSR, were

ignored.

• Changing the range criterion in the definition of a longrange nuclear air-launched cruise missile (ALCM). The

effect of this definitional change was to redefine most US

ALCM-equipped heavy bombers as penetrating heavy

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bombers. With more headroom on the overall warhead

ceiling, the United States could have kept more platforms

(bombers or ICBMs) in its inventory. In the end, the

Soviets rejected this position and said that it would have

to reopen the entire discount rule (then agreed) if the

United States were serious about redefining the term, airlaunched cruise missile.

The net effect of all the bomber discounting was that each party

actually deployed about 9,000 strategic nuclear weapons while

attributing to themselves only 6,000. Throughout the nine-year

START negotiation, none of the military organizations arguing

for the discount rule ever worried about the threat environment

that discounting created.

Strategic ballistic missiles posed few force structure problems. The United States and Soviet Union had tested specific

missiles with more reentry vehicles (RV) than were later

deployed. The Minuteman III had been tested with seven RVs,

but deployed with three. The Poseidon SLBM had been tested

with 13 RVs, but deployed with 10. And the Soviets had tested

one of their SLBMs with more RVs than they deployed. So, it

was mutually convenient for each side to overlook such tests

of unusual numbers of RVs, provided that the tests were never

repeated and the testing practice stopped.

Although ballistic missile warhead accountability issues

were among the easiest to resolve, overall force structure management required more flexibility than the treaty allowed.

Rather late in the START negotiations, the Air Force, Strategic

Air Command, and the Navy discovered that it would be convenient from the perspective of force structure preservation to

be able to download US ballistic missiles and claim lower warhead attribution numbers. Originally, the US arms-control

interagency opposed the idea. It was late in the game to negotiate downloading rules. It looked like a loophole or a device for

cheating. It inevitably conferred breakout advantages to the

Soviets, because their missiles had larger payload potential.

When it was eventually presented to the Soviets, they opposed

the idea vigorously, until Soviet force structure managers saw

the advantages it conferred. In the end, downloading was

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accepted, and it is one of the most useful tools in START for

force structure management.

The arms-control interagency objective of predictability also

posed risks for the Air Force. The United States wanted overlapping regimes of verification, notification, and cooperative

measures to provide a degree of compliance confidence unattainable through national technical means alone. Soviet negotiators had a low opinion of most of these except where they

could be applied to heavy bombers, and there the Soviets

applied them with energy. The Soviets wanted to restrict US

heavy bomber operations outside US borders, restrict overseas

deployments, and limit employment of US bombers on conventional missions abroad. Had the United States accepted

these positions, the effect on heavy bomber operations would

have been profound. The Soviets wanted advance notification

of bomber deployments, heavy bombers to return to their

bases when their bases were inspected, and cooperative measures following large bomber exercises or deployments. The Air

Force, SAC, Joint Staff, and theater CINCs opposed such limitations. The Air Force-SAC objective was to be able to support

the regional CINCs’ war plans. As the 1980s drew to a close,

those plans increasingly called for precision-guided heavy

bomber weapons, particularly conventional air-launched

cruise missiles, a Black World program that START negotiators knew nothing about until just before Desert Storm.

Exaggerated predictability measures would have undercut the

utility of heavy bombers at precisely the moment when they

were about to enjoy a nonnuclear renaissance.

Air Force arms-control issues were among the most bitter

negotiating disagreements in START. In February 1991, just a

few months before treaty signature, the START Joint Draft

Text contained about 150 bracketed provisions (provisions on

which the two sides could not agree) down from several thousands of brackets one year earlier. Of the remaining bracketed

text, virtually all were associated with heavy bombers and

ALCMs. The head of the START delegation believed the United

States had negotiating leverage to get the US position (the

position of the US Air Force) accepted on only 10 percent of the

bracketed provisions. Maj Gen Gary Curtain, a former ICBM

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wing commander and career SAC officer, was the representative

of the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to the START Talks

and the US cochairman of the START Heavy Bomber-ALCM

Working Group. He developed a strategy to dismantle the

Soviet negotiating strategy on bomber-ALCM issues and gave

the United States the negotiating leverage it needed. As the

text was agreed, the sides adopted the US language on 60 percent of the brackets, almost 100 provisions. START would

have been a much different treaty for the Air Force had it not

been for Curtain.

Evolutionary Changes

in Defense Organization

During the Reagan years, a significant change in defense

organization occurred. Although its impact was not felt immediately, the Air Force’s role in arms control eventually changed

significantly. The change was the Goldwater-Nichols Act.

Goldwater-Nichols expanded the role of the chairman of the

Joint Chiefs of Staff and the regional and functional CINCs at

the expense of the armed services. The Joint Staff was subordinated to the chairman for the first time. The chairman also

received more authority in resource allocation decisions. The

CINCs received more responsibility for stating requirements.

Prior to Goldwater-Nichols, Joint Staff deference to service

positions was automatic unless the services could not agree

among themselves. Then, the Joint Staff performed the role of

honest broker. Goldwater-Nichols made the Joint Staff an

independent actor and first among equals with the service

staffs. It created the foundation of a general staff system by

inventing a joint career field, establishing a credential system

for it, and implying extravagant rewards for entering the joint

service specialty. This occurred in 1986 during Adm William

Crowe’s tenure as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Admiral Crowe chose not to impose his full statutory authority, inasmuch as he regarded himself as a transition figure.

His successor, Gen Colin Powell, implemented GoldwaterNichols completely. 

Under General Powell, the Joint Staff began to exercise its

statutory independence. Air Force positions on arms control

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
were not often overruled, but the chairman and his joint staff

made clear in a variety of ways that new rules were in place.

The full effect of these changes was not felt until the early

1990s when the Strategic Air Command was dissolved. With

the elimination of the only specified command and its replacement with a joint command, United States Strategic

Command (USSTRATCOM), the special relationship between

the Air Force and the nuclear war fighter ended. It did not end

all at once, and the ghost of its former self materializes on occasion. However, the special relationship is between STRATCOM

and the Joint Staff, not STRATCOM and the Air Staff.

After some initial fumbling, SAC’s assets and responsibilities were transferred to two other Air Force MAJCOMs, Air

Combat Command and Space Command. Arguably, the strategic nuclear mission is foreign to each and contributes to neither command’s vision of the future. SAC’s institutional identity and operational focus built over half a century had been

lost, and nothing like it has emerged to replace it.

Air Force Arms-Control Accomplishments

Participants in the Air Force arms-control process during the

late Cold War period are understandably proud of their achievements. Universally, they contend that they achieved all the

institutional objectives they were asked to secure. As a participant in the arms-control process outside the Air Force during

much of the period, I agree with them. Few participants in the

arms-control process can match the Air Force’s string of armscontrol achievements. Why was the Air Force so successful?

Participants in the process repeatedly point to the role

played by Air Force senior leadership as the most important

factor in their success. Action officers and division chiefs in

the relevant organizations frequently were surprised at how

sophisticated was the senior staff’s understanding of the

arms-control process and its impact on airpower, particularly

strategic airpower. The Air Force senior staff during these

years tended to have broad experience in strategic force operations, plans, programs, and studies and analysis. They also

had prolonged exposure of the course of their careers with the

Washington policy/legislative affairs community. As they rose

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to prominence in the Air Force, their careers exposed them to

many of the same issues again-and-again, but from different

perspectives. First, they saw it as operators, then as Air Force

planners, then as programmers. Finally, they saw it as joint

policymakers. It was particularly important for strategic arms

control that Air Force chiefs of staff frequently had been the

commander in chief of Strategic Air Command.

The second most important factor was the special relationship between the Air Staff arms-control staff and the nuclear

war fighter. The relationship was unimaginably close by

today’s standard. For a period of nearly 15 years, Air Staff and

joint arms-control positions were filled selectively by officers

who had risen in responsibility and rank in Strategic Air

Command. The personal and organizational connections

between the Air Staff and appropriate SAC staffs cannot be

overemphasized. They occurred at the personal, analytic,

organizational, and command levels and bestowed a degree of

trust, confidence, and unity that is not duplicable today.

In this period, the Air Staff and SAC had respected analytic

capabilities. Air Force Studies and Analysis had the ability to

conduct quantitative analyses independent of the Joint Staff or

Office of the Secretary of Defense. That analysis gave Air Staff

positions considerable impact on strategic nuclear matters.

The Air Force also went to great trouble to fill influential

arms-control positions with outstanding Air Force colonels

with strong operational and policy backgrounds. The list

includes Col Robert Linhard (National Security Council staff),

Col Michael Wheeler (special assistant to the chairman of

JCS), Col Richard Wallace (special assistant to the chairman

of the Joint Chiefs of Staff), Col John Eller (Joint Staff/DDIN),

Col Philip “Tony” Foley (Office of Strategic Nuclear Affairs,

Arms Control and Disarmament Agency), Col William “Gary”

Richardson (special assistant to Ambassador Edward Rowny,

Arms Control and Disarmament Agency), and Col Frank

Dellerman (deputy director, Office of START Policy, Office of

the Secretary of Defense). The practical experience and judgment of these officers helped shape issues in ways that contributed to Air Force interests.

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In retrospect, the only shortcoming of this period was the failure of all Air Force personnel involved to foresee the ultimate

impact of organizational change in the Department of Defense.

The combined effect of Goldwater-Nichols and the creation of US

Strategic Command eroded the role the Air Force was to play in

arms control and nuclear matters generally. Although participants in the arms-control process during the late Cold War

period believed they were protecting Air Force interests with each

success, they never believed it possible for the United States to

contemplate nuclear reductions on today’s scale. As a result, the

victories on which they congratulated themselves accelerated the

effects they were hoping to avoid. Yet, if this criticism is valid, it

is also academic. It is not clear what the Air Force could have

done to mitigate the impact of organizational change in DOD, or

change in the international security environment, had they foreseen the future perfectly. In the end, the Air Force is an armed

service, not an invisible government.

Conclusion

The influence of the Air Force in arms control reached its

apex in the 1980s and early 1990s. The conditions and circumstances that allowed the Air Staff and Strategic Air

Command to have such impact are now history. In all likelihood, they will never be duplicated. Gone are Strategic Air

Command, its institutional identity, and its operational focus.

Gone are the days in which a large number of the Air Force

senior staff can claim to have risen to high position in the

nuclear force. Gone is the special relationship between the Air

Staff and the nuclear war fighter. Gone is the Air Staff’s

respected, independent analytic capability in nuclear matters.

As a result of these changes, arms control may pose today an

immediate institutional threat to the Air Force that it never

posed before.

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PART IV

Strategic Arms Reductions,

1989–2000

Chapter 7

Arms Control after the Cold War

Thomas S. Mowle

The years from 1989 to 2000 saw many changes in

American defense and strategic posture. During this time, the

Soviet Union disintegrated, ending the bipolar era that had so

clarified the international environment. This made arms control much more complex.

Technology diffusion continued, so it became more realistic to

be concerned about a missile attack from many states around

the world. Worse than mere missiles, nuclear weapons technology diffused as well. Both India and Pakistan revealed their

nuclear weapons, the advanced state of a secret Iraqi program

became apparent after their defeat in 1991, and concerns

remained about North Korean and Iranian nuclear progress.

Themes

This chapter, and the previous one by Forrest Waller, describes

the major arms-control themes of the George Bush and Bill

Clinton presidencies. The first theme is strategic arms reductions. This continues the story Charles Dusch began in chapter

5, as Ronald Reagan began negotiations on a Strategic Arms

Reduction Treaty (START). By the end of the Bush presidency,

both a START and START II agreement had been signed—

although eight years after that, START II was not in effect.

The second theme, and the one that runs most steadily

throughout the period, is missile defense. Bush made a strong

effort to modify the Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) Treaty before

he left office, so defenses could be built to meet the threats of

a nonbipolar world. The Clinton Administration, operating

under the premise that theater defense was both more urgent

and more feasible than strategic defense, spent its first term

and part of its second trying to distinguish between strategic

and theater defense. The results of this effort, which have not

191
been ratified, were minimal. This second theme began to be

transformed at the end of the Clinton presidency, as the

launch of longer-range missiles by both North Korea and Iran

increased the rationale for national missile defense.

The third theme during this period, and the major focus of

the Clinton presidency in particular, was nonproliferation.1

Nonproliferation included a variety of programs designed to

safeguard the Russian nuclear arsenal and prevent the spread

of its technology. Even theater missile defense was seen as

contributing to this goal. Nonproliferation efforts also included

multilateral restrictions on weapons of mass destruction. The

Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty (NPT) was indefinitely extended.

A Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty (CTBT) for nuclear weapons

was signed. The Chemical Weapons Convention (CWC), signed

in the last week of the Bush presidency, received Senate consent. The Clinton team also worked on compliance provisions

to the 1975 Biological and Toxin Weapons Convention (BWC).

Once again, however—and this is the highest-level theme we

find throughout this chapter—many of these agreements languish, along with START II and the ABM demarcations. CTBT

was rejected by the Senate and no compliance protocol has

been completed for the BWC. Of all the negotiations and agreements since the end of the Cold War, only START I, Conventional

Forces in Europe (CFE), the NPT extension, and the CWC have

been ratified and put in force. Most of these were achievements of the Bush years—the Clinton Administration negotiated only the NPT extension.

Before moving on to a chronological review of arms-control

activity, which sets the stage for the topical treatment, here is

a note about methods and sources for this chapter. To a much

greater extent than in prior chapters, the interviewees continue to work for the US government. Many of these interviewees, as the price for candor, did not wish to have their names

associated with specific comments in this chapter. So each

section begins with a citation of the people who contributed

information, but no statements of opinion are cited specifically

in the text. The narrative combines the results of all these

interviews into what the author considers the most persuasive

version of events.

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Arms-Control Environment I: Decline of the Cold War

For one year, 1989, the Bush Administration faced the same

external environment as its predecessors, and arms control

proceeded as it had before. The focus was on a single adversary, the Soviet Union. And “adversary” is the correct word—

despite glasnost and perestroika, there was little trust

between the sides, especially with respect to Soviet intentions.

President Mikhail Gorbachev used the rhetoric of peace, yet

his military continued to modernize its air and strategic

forces. Regional concerns, at this time, did not make it onto

the agenda.

In 1989 the START talks continued, at the same slow pace

they had under Reagan. The negotiators continued to search

for ways to enhance stability by minimizing the attractiveness

of a first strike. Both sides sought to build up their own forces

while negotiating and to find ways to lock in their own advantages. In parallel, the Bush Administration tried without success to get the Soviets to accept its broad interpretation of the

ABM Treaty, which would allow space-based interceptors.

Arms-Control Environment II: End of the Cold War,

1990–92

By 1992 the bilateral relationship had changed dramatically. In late 1989 all the Soviet satellite regimes of Eastern

Europe fell, as did Berlin’s concrete symbol of bipolarity.

Germany reunified, the Warsaw Treaty Organization was dissolved, and Soviet/Russian forces began to withdraw from

their foreign bases. Gorbachev’s posture during the Gulf War,

abandoning his Iraqi client, demonstrated the potential for

what Bush called a “new world order.” The Gulf War also

demonstrated that regional threats must be addressed. While

Saddam Hussein’s forces were defeated with relative ease, the

danger posed by even his primitive ballistic missiles was

sobering to defense planners. Subsequent revelations about

Iraqi nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons programs

would broaden the focus of arms control.

For the meantime, the Bush Administration worked to codify the new reality, and the new sense of cooperation with the

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Soviets.2 The first breakthrough was the CFE Treaty, signed

during Operation Desert Shield on 19 November 1990. CFE

will not be described in detail later in this chapter, since it is

nonstrategic and has been mostly overtaken by subsequent

events. It created limits on numbers of tanks, artillery,

armored combat vehicles, combat helicopters, and attack aircraft within countries and subregions. A later protocol, signed

in July 1992, set limits on personnel.3 CFE entered into force

in November 1992.4 The CFE Treaty did serve the purpose of

arms control by allowing both sides to reduce their defense

expenditures, making war less likely through transparency

and inspections, and reducing the destructiveness of a conventional war. While the agreement seems less urgent after the

Cold War than it had previously, it did provide a way to lock in

the reductions that had been made, and to ensure that they

would be reciprocal.5 The same rationale would underlie the

START II agreement.

CFE was paired with the Open Skies verification agreement,

signed on 24 March 1992, which also largely falls outside the

scope of this book. Open Skies required its adherents to “permit frequent, unrestricted overflights of their national territories by foreign aircraft for the purpose of increasing confidence

about military intentions and capabilities.”6

START I was signed on 31 July 1991, and arms control

began to accelerate. Within a few months, both Bush and

Gorbachev announced unilateral steps to reduce nuclear tensions. When the Soviet Union collapsed at the end of the year,

Russian president Boris Yeltsin proved to be an even more

willing partner in arms control. Less than 18 months after

START I was signed, it had been amended on 3 January 1993

by the deeper reductions of START II, in which the United

States achieved much of what it had failed to achieve in the

first agreement. START I was also amended by the Lisbon

Protocol of 23 May 1992, which planned for the nuclear disarmament of the former Soviet republics that found themselves

in possession of part of the former Soviet arsenal. By the end

of Bush’s term, the United States, Russia, and Kazakhstan

had ratified START I.7

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Arms-Control Environment III: Adjusting to the New

World, 1993–97

Significant political changes affected arms control in 1993.

Bill Clinton, whose team brought a different emphasis on

arms control, succeeded President Bush. While President

Yeltsin remained in office, parties opposed to him, including

former Communists, would now dominate the Russian parliament, the Duma. The Russian approach to arms control

returned to more suspicion and hard bargaining, as they

regarded recent agreements as very unfavorable to them.

President Clinton, on the other hand, changed the focus to

nonproliferation and regional issues now that the strategic

problems seemed to be resolved.

Nevertheless, work continued on many fronts of arms control. START I went into force on 5 December 1994 with

Ukraine’s accession to the Lisbon Protocol.8 As for other legacies of the Bush Administration, the United States ratified

Open Skies in 1994 and START II in 1996.9 On 17 November

1995, the Russians and Americans reached agreement to

modify CFE’s flank limits to account for the collapse of the

Soviet Union.10 In the most protracted arms-control initiative

of the Clinton years, four years of talks resulted in the New

York Agreements of 26 September 1997. These were designed

to demark differences between theater and strategic defense

systems.

With respect to nonproliferation, the Clinton Administration

promoted both bilateral and multilateral measures. The

United States worked with the Russians to control their

nuclear stockpile via the Nunn-Lugar Cooperative Threat

Reduction (CTR) program. In May 1995, an indefinite extension to the NPT was accepted, without weakening its provisions. A CTBT was negotiated in the following year, and signed

by the United States on 24 September 1996. While the CWC

had been completed on 3 September 1992 and signed on 13

January 1993 under the Bush Administration, the Clinton

White House succeeded in winning Senate consent on 25

April 1997. 

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Arms-Control Environment IV: The End of Arms

Control? 1998–2000

For all the activity of the first five years of the Clinton presidency, however, the results were superficial. The New York

Agreements on missile defense may have been the centerpiece

of the efforts on traditional arms control, but they were never

sent to the Senate for its consent. The Duma had declined to

ratify START II for so long that a START II extension was

included in New York. When Russia finally ratified START II in

2000, seven years after its signing and four years after the US

Senate had initially consented to it, their approval was conditioned on US ratification of the New York Agreements. In part,

this was a tactical ploy to continue to link missile defense to

strategic arms reductions, but it also was a necessity: the

United States had ratified a treaty whose deadlines had

passed, so the Russians needed the United States to ratify the

extension as well. 

As for nonproliferation, the Clinton years did not produce an

acceptable compliance text for the BWC. The Senate rejected

the CTBT in 1999, although a testing moratorium remained in

place. The Nunn-Lugar CTR program faced continuing budget

battles, and its success has been difficult to evaluate.

Meanwhile, the Russian war in Chechnya appears to violate

the terms of CFE—although CFE was never intended to

address a civil war in Russia. While Open Skies verification

was ratified by the Duma in 2001, after President Clinton left

office, it was by this time no longer clear what that meant. 

Nevertheless, there is another side to these perceived “failures” of the Clinton Administration. In a nonbipolar world, the

focus of arms control becomes less clear. Arms control may

help prevent war in an adversarial relationship, but no major

state is clearly an adversary of the United States. With the

chance of war with Russia reduced already, there is less

incentive for a strategic arms buildup. Thus one can limit

defense costs unilaterally. Those states that are adversaries—

Iraq, for example—do not appear to be good candidates for traditional arms negotiations. In this situation, ambiguity with

regard to limits on missile defense systems may be wise. More

typically, arms-control efforts have entered a multilateral

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arena. Given the difficulty two states had during the Cold War

in assessing what agreements would serve their interests, it is

not surprising that progress on multilateral regimes is difficult. 

Strategic Arms Reduction

Chapter 5 described the basic rationale behind the START

talks during the Reagan Administration.11 For the first time,

the goal of arms control was first-strike stability—weapons

would survive a first strike but could not themselves disarm

the other side.12 To achieve this goal, ballistic missiles, especially those with multiple independently targetable reentry

vehicles (MIRV), should be reduced in favor of slower platforms like cruise missiles and manned bombers.13 START also

sought a more comprehensive verification regime than prior

agreements.14

While these principles fit a solid, neutral theory of arms control, they also tended to reinforce areas of American superiority and require cuts in areas of Soviet superiority. Thus the

two sides remained far from agreement when President Bush

took office. The new National Security Advisor Brent Scowcroft

called a brief pause for a strategic review in early 1989, before

negotiations resumed.15

START I

The most contentious issue facing the American team in

1989 was whether or not they should continue to demand a

ban on mobile missiles. The Office of the Secretary of Defense

(OSD) position, backed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) and

also by the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency (ACDA),

was that the United States should press for a ban. Mere limits on such systems would be difficult to verify with certainty,

and they had a rapid-reload potential not present in other systems. The State Department, on the other hand, wanted to

drop the proposal, since it was becoming apparent that it was

a roadblock to reaching any agreement. Bush’s National

Security Council (NSC) was less enthusiastic about the ban as

well, noting that mobile missiles were not as destabilizing a

first-strike weapons as fixed MIRVed intercontinental ballistic

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missiles (ICBM). In many ways, they played a similar role to

the American submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBM).

Along with the overall ban, OSD advanced the strategy used

successfully with the ground-launched cruise missile (GLCM) in

the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) treaty—continue

to build our own mobile systems so as to exercise leverage on

the Soviets.16 This proved untenable. By late 1989, it became

clear that Congress was unwilling to fund American mobile systems if they would only be bargaining chips. Furthermore, the

long delay in developing an American counter to the Soviets’

development of the mobile SS-24 and SS-25 meant that the

Soviets were being asked to actually dismantle a deployed system to offset a potential American system.17

All agencies came to realize that the mobile missile ban

must be dropped. The ban was “traded” for a 50 percent cut

in deployed Soviet heavy ICBM warheads, to 1,540 (10 MIRVs

on 154 missiles), and a limit of 1,100 on deployed mobile

ICBM warheads.18 This would allow the Soviets to continue

deploying mobile ICBMs. The Americans could do so as well,

but did not have either mobile or heavy ICBMs deployed. The

balancing American advantage was that both sides faced a

limit of 4,900 total accountable ICBM and SLBM warheads.

Another obstacle to completing START was how to count

bomber weapons. Both sides agreed with the general principle

that bombers were less destabilizing than ICBMs, and so the

potential weapons load from a bomber should be discounted

in arriving at the total of 6,000 accountable warheads.

Furthermore, the bombers should be discounted in compensation for Soviet air defenses. This issue can be dealt with

briefly, as by 1989 there was no major interagency dispute

over bomber discounts. One key sticking point was how one

would distinguish between conventional and nuclear-armed

bombers; another was the status of the Tacit Rainbow, a conventional air-launched cruise missile (ALCM). In the agreement signed on 31 July 1991, penetrating bombers were

counted as a single warhead, and standoff cruise missile

bombers were counted as 10 warheads for the United States

and eight for the Soviet Union. In each case, this was half of

the actual load these aircraft could deliver.19

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Unilateral Initiatives

START’s signature was followed in the next month by a

failed coup against Gorbachev. With the Cold War clearly collapsing, President Bush announced a series of unilateral initiatives on 27 September 1991. These included withdrawing

all naval tactical nuclear weapons and nuclear artillery shells,

taking all heavy bombers and 450 Minuteman II ICBMs off

alert, and canceling the short-range attack missile (SRAM II),

small ICBM mobile basing, and Peacekeeper rail garrison. One

week later, on 5 October, Gorbachev matched this unilateral

initiative with respect to tactical nuclear weapons. Furthermore,

he cancelled equivalent programs for new and modernized

mobile ICBMs and the Soviet short-range attack missile.

Gorbachev also withdrew nuclear air defense warheads and

nuclear mines, took 503 ICBMs and six ballistic missile submarines off alert status, and restricted Soviet rail-mobile

ICBMs to garrison.

A second unilateral round occurred in early 1992. During his

State of the Union Address on 28 January, Bush limited B-2

production to 20, advanced cruise missiles to 640, cancelled

the small ICBM, and stopped production of both the

Peacekeeper and Trident II warheads. The next day, Russian

President Yeltsin announced accelerated compliance with

START cuts, an end to production of the Blackjack and Bear-H

heavy bombers, an end to ALCM and sea-launched cruise missile (SLCM) production, and 50 percent cuts in air-launched

tactical nuclear weapons. While these initiatives would remain

unilateral, additional proposals contained within them would

become the basis for START II negotiations.20

START II

Prior to START II talks beginning, loose ends from the Soviet

breakup remained to be resolved. Parts of the Soviet arsenal

were dispersed in Belarus, Ukraine, and Kazakhstan. On 23

May 1992, the non-Russian republics agreed in the Lisbon

Protocol to be parties to START and also to become nonnuclear signatories to the NPT. By the end of the year, all but

Ukraine and Belarus had ratified START (the US Senate

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consented in October).21 Russian ratification was contingent

on the others, however, and Ukraine did not agree to the NPT

provisions until November 1994. In the interim, they obtained

a 14 January 1994 trilateral agreement with the United States

and Russia that gave them compensation and security assistance. This allowed START I to enter into force on 5 December

1994.22

With respect to START II itself, the primary arms-control

goal was no longer crisis stability. Instead, the goals were economic. The DOD wanted to cut strategic forces if it could, so

Bush’s team sought to ensure that the Russians would match

these cuts.23 With arms control no longer central to the bilateral relationship, a START II agreement represented an insurance policy against a return to bipolarity.24 As befit such a

low-stress diplomatic environment, the basic goals of START II

were simply announced at a 17 June 1992 summit. Within six

months, a small, high-level group (in contrast to the multitude

present at Geneva for START I) had set the stage for Bush and

Yeltsin to sign START II on 3 January 1993.25

In START II, the United States achieved most of the goals it

had set for the original START. Central to this was a ban on

land-based MIRVed ICBMs altogether. START II also lowered

the total deployed strategic warhead ceiling to between 3,000

and 3,500 for each side. Cruise missiles would be counted as

their actual totals, rather than being discounted 50 percent as

in START I. The cuts would occur in two phases: by 2000, total

deployed warheads would drop to between 3,800 and 4,250;

MIRVs to 1,200; and SLBMs to 2,160. The final phase, by

2003, would eliminate MIRVs and lower the SLBM sublimit to

between 1,700 and 1,750. Since START II was simply a modification to START I’s numbers, the verification regime remained

unchanged.26 The only major item not written into START II

was a mobile ICBM ban, but this was no longer a priority.

Unfortunately, the very speed of the negotiations—one

member of the team said that “every word” was written in

December 1992—may have contributed to the long delay in

ratifying START II. The return of the former Communist Party

to control of the Duma was accompanied by suspicions that

the United States had forced a bad agreement on a desperate,

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or inept, Yeltsin. While the US Senate consented to START II

on 26 January 1996, the Duma continued to link START II

ratification to side issues like ABM demarcation. The

Republican Congress, in response, prohibited the DOD from

cutting nuclear forces beyond the START I limits until Russia

ratified the treaty, since if US cuts were completed, the Duma

would have no incentive to do so. 

Despite the delay in ratification, interest in further cuts was

maintained. At the Helsinki summit of March 1997, Clinton

and Yeltsin set goals for START III of reducing warheads to the

2,000–2,500 range. This position was repeated at Cologne in

June 1999.27 At Helsinki, the two presidents also agreed to

stretch out the START II deadlines by four years, to 2007. This

modification to START II was rolled into the New York

Agreements described in the following section.28 The Duma

finally ratified START II on 14 April 2000, but its ratification

was conditioned on the deadline extension from Helsinki.

Since the Senate has not consented to this—in fact, has not

even been sent the extension for consideration, the eight

Clinton years ended with START II still not in force. 

Summary of Strategic Arms Reduction

The first four years of strategic arms negotiations cannot be

considered anything but a success. The Bush Administration

completed the tasks left it by the Reagan Administration, and

more. Deployed strategic warheads would be reduced by over

two-thirds from their 1990 levels, which were in excess of

10,000 on each side.29 The most destabilizing weapons, the

MIRVed ICBMs, would be eliminated by both sides. All development and modernization of new strategic forces had ended,

thus fully containing the arms race’s costs.

The following eight years are more difficult to assess, in part

because we have no historical perspective on them. Neither

the Russians nor the Americans have violated the terms of the

unilateral initiatives or START II. On the other hand, either

side may renounce the unratified treaty and do so. During the

Clinton years, strategic arms control moved from the central

current of foreign policy to a side eddy. Duma ratification did

not seem to be a priority of the Clinton Administration; on the

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other hand, the United States had more important issues

against which to exert its minimal leverage. The next two sections of this chapter describe the new arms-control themes,

missile defense and nonproliferation. 

Missile Defense

During the Bush and Clinton administrations, the emphasis placed on missile defense systems and on the ABM Treaty

varied over time. 30 During the first years of the Bush

Administration, the Reagan-era Strategic Defense Initiative

(SDI) continued, as described in chapter 5. This included the

so-called broad interpretation of the ABM Treaty, based on the

idea that if the treaty did not explicitly prohibit space-based

components, then testing and perhaps even deploying them

would not violate the treaty.

The Gulf War demonstrated to the United States that other

states besides the Soviet Union posed a potential ballistic missile danger. Accordingly, programs were initiated to address

theater missile defense (TMD). These programs continued after

the inauguration of President Clinton, even after he announced

in 1993 that the space-based portion of SDI would be abandoned, and the narrow interpretation of the ABM Treaty followed. Since the treaty did not define “strategic missile,” a

four-year set of negotiations followed, resulting in the New

York Agreements. These established the successor states to

the ABM Treaty, made an initial effort to distinguish between

strategic and theater defense systems, and enshrined the

“narrow interpretation” by prohibiting space-based interceptors. The Clinton Administration never submitted the New

York Agreements to the Senate for its advice and consent. 

In the following year, North Korea’s three-stage missile

demonstration changed the terms of the debate once again. It

became apparent that theater weapons would not be sufficient

to meet all short-term threats and that research and development of a National Missile Defense (NMD) system might be

appropriate after all. This led to a renewed look at changing

the terms of the ABM Treaty, an effort that did not net any

progress by the end of the Clinton Administration.

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SDI: 1989–93

During 1989, the primary public concern of the Department

of Defense (DOD) was its perception of a “gap” in strategic

defense efforts by the Soviets and Americans. At the August

1989 ABM Treaty review in Geneva, Americans emphasized

the apparent violations to the treaty posed by the phasedarray radar at Krasnoyarsk and additional radars at Gomel.

These were not directed at the perimeter of the Soviet Union,

as required by the ABM Treaty, and thus could become part of

a strategic defense targeting system. In parallel to these concerns, the Defense and Space Talks proposed by President

Reagan at the Washington Summit began in 1989.31

These talks, like all the missile defense negotiations during

the Bush Administration, were conducted outside the ABM

Treaty’s Standing Consultative Committee (SCC). Very little

was accomplished during the formal Defense and Space Talks.

They were initially demanded by the Russians as a way of linking the START and INF negotiations to restrictions on the

SDI.32 It remains unclear how much either side expected to

gain from the discussions, since neither was open to compromise as long as the Cold War strategic framework remained. In

any case, once the START I agreements were signed in 1991,

the Soviets ended the pallel Defense and Space Talks.

By this time, however, the Bush Administration’s perception

of the threat from ballistic missiles had changed radically. The

experience with SCUD-hunting in the Gulf War demonstrated

a serious deficiency in American military capabilities. For the

first time since the Korean War, an adversary inflicted

American casualties via aerial attack. The Patriot missile, originally the SAM-D, could not carry out the antimissile mission

adequately because it had been designed specifically to remain

compliant to the ABM Treaty. Furthermore, the breakup of the

Soviet Bloc and the beginnings of the breakup of the Soviet

Union changed the nature of the threat from that source: a

massive intentional attack now seemed unlikely, but an accidental or unauthorized one was now a realistic fear. The

August 1991 coup attempt in the Soviet Union only added to

the fear that the Soviet arsenal was no longer as secure as it

had been. Deterrence, after all, was designed to work against

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a “rational, unitary actor,” and it was not clear that Iraq, North

Korea, or even now the Soviet Union fit that definition.33

To meet this danger, the Strategic Defense Initiative Office

(SDIO) proposed developing and deploying a system called

Global Protection Against Limited Strikes (GPALS). The minimal GPALS, intended to comply with the ABM Treaty’s limits,

would have used 200 interceptors operating from a single

ground base or submarine.34 This size was designed to meet

the likely danger from any newly nuclear state, or from a single ballistic missile submarine. A larger version of GPALS was

also recommended, which would have increased the system to

six bases.35 Both versions envisioned using space-based sensors for early warning and tracking.36

In parallel to this effort, the Bush Administration began a

more serious attempt to convince the Soviets to revise the

ABM Treaty. On 27 September 1991, President Bush publicly

asked the Soviets to “join us in taking immediate, concrete

steps to permit the limited deployment of nonnuclear defenses

to protect against limited ballistic missile strikes whatever

their source.”37 The response from President Gorbachev a

week later was very positive—accepting the invitation and suggesting that they investigate developing joint missile warning

systems. Six-party discussions began on 27 November 1991,

with representatives of the four nuclear-armed Soviet

republics sitting with the Soviet and American delegations.

The United States proposed a new interim agreement that

would have lifted the ABM Treaty’s limits on development and

testing and permitted deployment of a small dispersed missile

defense system. The new agreement would have still limited

the number of sites, interceptors, and number of interceptors

at each installation, so as to ensure that it would only be capable of defending against a limited strike.38

While the Soviet Union itself would only survive for another

month, this ABM revision was encouraged even more strongly

by Russian President Yeltsin. In late January 1992, he called for

a Global Protection System (GPS) that would defend against

missile strikes worldwide and would integrate Russian,

American, and other development efforts. After working to win

the acceptance of his NATO allies, Bush agreed to the plan at

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his 17 June 1992 summit with Yeltsin. Their joint statement

said, “Such cooperation would be a tangible expression of the

new relationship that exists between Russia and the United

States.” The initial priorities would be to share early warning

information via a joint early warning center, to encourage the

participation of many states in developing and deploying the

technology, and to revise or establish the legal framework governing ballistic missile defense.39 One of the key treaty revisions

would be to lift restrictions on sensors, since no territorial

defense could otherwise be successful under the ABM regime.

These talks aimed at moving the Russian-American relationship into one founded on normal interstate relations,

rather than one governed by mutually assured destruction.

The Americans were hopeful for an agreement, since Russia

was geographically more vulnerable to the dangers of ballistic

missile proliferation than the United States.40 While the tone

of the negotiations was cooperative, the American position was

made clear to the Russians: If an agreement could not be

reached on limited defensive systems, then the United States

would “consider withdrawal, legally in accordance with the

provisions of the Treaty.”41

While the Bush Administration pursued these agreements

for several months, until his reelection defeat in November

1992, their wisdom was not universally accepted within the

government. ACDA was particularly skeptical of the joint

aspects of GPS. There would be practical problems with sharing command, control, and communications data as well as

technical data with the Russians; in the past the Department

of Defense had been reluctant to share such information even

with allies. Furthermore, once implemented, it was likely that

American systems would be protecting Russia more often than

the reverse, creating a built-in burden-sharing problem.

TMD and ABM Demarcation: 1993–97

With the inauguration of President Clinton in the United

States, and the weakening of Yeltsin’s power in Russia following the Duma elections, the focus on strategic defense ended.

The Clinton Administration did not find the need for missile

defense to be worth risking START II, which was still being

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held up in Russia.42 On 13 May 1993, the new Secretary of

Defense Les Aspin, signaled this new focus on theater missile

defense (TMD) by changing the SDI Office (SDIO) into the

Ballistic Missile Defense Organization (BMDO), which would

focus on TMD.43 The BMDO was also dropped in the wiring

diagrams—rather than reporting directly to the secretary of

defense, it would now report to the undersecretary for acquisition and technology. In July the new administration

announced that it would hold to the strict interpretation of the

ABM Treaty, ending the long-standing Russian objections to

space-based systems. Such systems would be researched for

their technology, but not tested or deployed. The theater systems would be designed to protect American forces, but also

would serve to protect regional noncombatants from the escalatory terrorism practiced by Saddam Hussein in the Gulf War.44

This new focus emphasized that the primary concern would

be states like North Korea, not Russia; these regional threats

could be met, and proliferation even deterred, with only a theater system. TMD would directly support an interventionist US

foreign policy by preserving our ability to operate in regions

where ballistic missiles had become dangerous.45 The DOD

cited six examples of recent missile use, all in the Middle East:

“the Iran-Iraq War, Libyan attacks on Lampedusa Island,

Operation Desert Storm, the war in Afghanistan, the Iranian

attack against dissident camps, and the recent conflict in

Yemen.”46

The only major obstacle to proceeding with TMD was a concern within the United States that even TMD might be seen as

a violation of the ABM Treaty. Article II of the treaty specified,

“an ABM system is a system to counter strategic ballistic missiles or their elements in flight trajectory.” This left unresolved

the definition of a strategic ballistic missile. In addition, Article

VI (a) bound the signatories “not to give missiles, launchers, or

radars, other than ABM interceptor missiles, ABM launchers,

or ABM radars, capabilities to counter strategic ballistic missiles or their elements in flight trajectory, and not to test them

in an ABM mode.” Once again, the definitions of capabilities

and ABM mode were left open. Finally, with the collapse of the

Soviet Union itself, the status of the treaty as a whole was in

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doubt. One could now view the treaty as defunct, view Russia

as the sole inheritor of Soviet obligations, or view each of the

now-independent former Soviet republics as a signatory.

The Clinton Administration’s efforts to resolve these questions began with the fourth five-year review of the treaty by the

SCC in September 1993; they ended four years later with the

signing of a package of documents that came to be known as

the New York Agreements. The initial US position on Article II

was straightforward. A “strategic ballistic missile” would be

one exceeding the capabilities of the Chinese CSS-2: a range

in excess of 3,500 km and a maximum speed in excess of 5.0

km/s. This proposal was quickly accepted by the Russians,

and was incorporated into the final agreements.

On the question of succession, Russia made it clear that

they wanted other republics, particularly Belarus, Ukraine,

and Kazakhstan, to participate. This would maintain the parallelism the Russians and Soviets had placed between the

START and ABM talks over the years. More importantly, the

former Soviet ABM facilities were now dispersed among its

neighbors, especially Kazakhstan. The National Security

Council, led on this issue by Bob Bell, recommended acceding

to this Russian proposal, and also recommended agreeing to

“defer indefinitely discussion of amendments to the ABM

Treaty that would allow for more robust NMD architectures.”

In exchange, in what he called a “grand bargain,” the Russians

would need to “agree to TMD clarifications that allow the U.S.

to execute those TMD programs . . . essential to U.S. national

security requirements.”47

The State Department and ACDA supported this position;

their position won out over the DOD’s opposition. Officials in

the latter saw this as an attempt by both the Clinton

Administration and Russia to make future changes to the

ABM Treaty more difficult to negotiate. In hindsight, interpretation of the bargain itself is difficult. Gertz’s assessment of it

seems to track fairly well with the position of many within the

DOD, although few would confirm specific dramatic details of

disagreement. In this most negative view, the demarcation

negotiations were “a grand scheme . . . a prescription for a

national security disaster.”48 On the other hand, it is difficult

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to see what the United States lost in the process. The Clinton

Administration had already determined that it would not be

actively pursuing any NMD projects that would require

amending or ending the ABM Treaty, so the United States was

not giving anything up by agreeing to “defer” doing that.

Likewise, the Russian insistence on multilateralizing the

treaty seemed nonnegotiable on their part. If we wanted to

demark TMD once and for all, then the Russians would need

to be offered something. While Gertz is correct in pointing out

that the Russians had not (yet) raised objections to the TMD

systems under development, and so in principle they were

given “a blank check to stymie development of American missile defenses,”49 the result of the negotiations described below

was much less dramatic: all US TMD systems ended up being

accepted as in compliance, and future, more capable systems

were left in a gray area, just as before. Furthermore, the signed

agreements never were submitted for the Senate’s consent.

While under international law the United States should be

behaving as if they were ratified, pending their rejection, the

Bush Administration’s high-profile efforts to amend the ABM

Treaty have been bilateral with Russia, ignoring the other

three successor states.

The most serious question at the demarcation talks was

how to define the Article VI(a) provisions. The US proposal was

straightforward: “testing in an ABM mode” would be testing a

system against targets traveling in excess of the strategic

speed of 5.0 km/s. If one does not test the systems in an ABM

mode, then one could assume that they would not have “capabilities to counter strategic ballistic missiles,” since no state

would depend on such an untested system for its security. 

The Russians disagreed with the second half of this argument, and so rejected the proposal.50 They argued that if one

conducted robust tests of a system against nonstrategic targets, one could extrapolate a measure of effectiveness against

strategic missiles. Their counterproposal was to limit the

speed of the interceptor to 3.0 km/s. This definition would

preserve the Army’s Theater High Altitude Area Defense

(THAAD) and Patriot Advance Capability (PAC-3), so the

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American negotiating team, led by Stan Riveles, was inclined

to accept it.

The 3.0 km/s proposal led to intense interagency disagreement. Part of the JCS opposition was on a matter of principle:

Setting a capability limit, as opposed to an effectiveness limit,

would shackle their ability to develop better (faster) TMD systems. The opposition was also based on programs under

development. Both the Navy Upper Tier and the Air Force’s

Boost Phase Interceptor (BPI) were planned to have higher

interceptor speeds, and would be prohibited under the

Russians’ proposal. Both the Air Force and Navy formally

opposed the plan; the Army did not join them. For the next

several years, Riveles’ team worked to persuade either the

Russians to drop their proposal or the Pentagon to drop its

opposition. 

Ultimately, the specific problem with the Navy and Air Force

programs resolved itself. The BPI was cancelled because it did

not seem technically feasible. After a congressionally mandated study in 1995, following the transfer of Congress to

Republican control, the Navy Upper Tier was declared compliant despite its interceptor speed. Since it was designed to be

integrated with the limited-range Aegis system, it would not be

able to detect and successfully engage an incoming target

moving at strategic speeds. 

While the specific practical impact of the 3.0 km/s interceptor speed limit was now moot, the principle remained.

Riveles’ team offered two major concessions to the Russians in

an attempt to induce compromise from them. Each of these

became the focus of further interagency debate.

First, the United States agreed to specifically prohibit all

space-based components of an ABM or TMD system. This

decision was announced at the April 1996 summit. The JCS in

particular had wanted to retain the option, but ultimately they

conceded the point as an acceptable trade for lifting the TMD

interceptor limit. Some within the DOD were more concerned

with style of the announcement itself—since missile defense

had not been on the agenda for the summit, no military representative was present when the final decision was reached.

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As it turned out, the concession was pocketed without an

agreement by the Russians to drop the 3.0 km/s position.

With this as context, the JCS staff also opposed offering the

“no plans” statement. In this statement, both the United

States and Russia agreed that they were not planning before

April 1999 to test systems with interceptor velocities in excess

of 3 km/sec, to develop systems with somewhat faster velocities (4.5 km/sec for sea-based, 5.5 km/sec for others), or to

test these against MIRVs. In retrospect, JCS opposition was

probably ill advised, since they had no firm grounds for it.

They had, in fact, no plans for such tests during that time.

Furthermore, legally, such a statement is not binding. Once

again, however, a principle was involved: The statement would

be politically binding in this country, and so it represented a

concession without compensation.

In the end, the talks proved anticlimactic. As signed in New

York on 26 September 1997, the set of agreements did not represent much progress over where matters stood when President

Clinton took office. Most significant was the Memorandum of

Understanding on Succession (MOUS), indicating that Belarus,

Ukraine, and Kazakhstan had inherited obligations along with

Russia. While this did multilateralize the treaty, it also recognized reality; with the old Soviet system dispersed, the ABM

Treaty limits would now apply to the same territory. Belarus

could not build its own strategic missile defense system unless

Russia dismantled the one around Moscow.

The New York Agreements left interceptor velocities unlimited

in practice. In the First Agreed Statement (FAS), all parties

agreed that a system would be considered a theater system, or

more properly would not be considered a strategic system under

Article VI(a) of the ABM Treaty, if “the velocity of the interceptor

missile does not exceed 3 km/sec over any part of its flight trajectory; the velocity of the ballistic target-missile does not exceed

5 km/sec over any part of its flight trajectory; and the range of

the ballistic target-missile does not exceed 3,500 kilometers.”51

The United States stated that the Patriot PAC-3, THAAD, and

Navy Area-Wide systems all met these provisions.52

The Second Agreed Statement (SAS) addressed systems with

interceptors faster than 3 km/sec. Such interceptors could

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not be tested against ballistic missiles whose range or velocity

exceeded the limits of the FAS. Beyond that testing limit,

review of disputed TMD systems would remain with the SCC.

In other words, after four years, no clear demarcation was set

forth. The SCC agreed, as part of the Agreement on Confidence

Building Measures, to exchange data and test notifications on

the THAAD and Navy Theater-Wide (formerly Navy Upper Tier)

systems, which the United States asserted were ABM-compliant,

even though the latter would exceed the interceptor velocities

of the FAS.53

Furthermore, the SAS stated that the signatories would not

“develop, test, or deploy space-based interceptor missiles to

counter ballistic missiles other than strategic ballistic missiles, or space-based components based on other physical

principles.”54 All space-based interceptors were assumed to

travel in excess of 3 km/sec in the fourth common understanding attached to the FAS. 

The New York Agreements have not been submitted to the

Senate for consent, and there is at this writing no indication

that the George W. Bush Administration intends to do so. As

noted in the first section of this chapter, the Duma made its

ratification of START II contingent on the United States’ ratification of the New York Agreements. That, perhaps, is the only

real legacy of ABM demarcation: the Russians achieved their

long-standing goal of linking arms reduction to missile

defense. On the other hand, the United States gave up very little on its part, other than codifying the strict interpretation of

space-based systems under the ABM Treaty. Since under

Article 18 of the 1969 Vienna Convention on the Law of

Treaties, “a State is obliged to refrain from acts which would

defeat the object and purpose of a treaty,” the United States is

restricted from building space-based systems until and unless

the government formally repudiates the agreements.55

NMD Reemerges: 3+3 and Taepo Dong, 1998–2000

The focus on TMD under Clinton was based on the belief

that a direct threat against the United States was many years

away.56 Politically, he could not completely neglect missile

defense once the Republicans gained control of both houses of

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Congress in 1994. So during the 1996 reelection campaign, he

proposed what came to be called the “3+3” program. Three

years of development, beginning in 1997, would be followed by

three years of deployment, with a minimal ABM-compliant

system operational in 2003.57

Once reelected, the program began to slide toward the future.

The 1997 DOD report said that a threat to the continental

United States was 15 years away, and that even the North

Korean Taepo Dong 2 missile was five years from operation (just

as it had been the year prior).58 By the following year, the threat

to the continental United States remained 15 years away, and

Taepo Dong 2 was now seven years from operation.59 Thus a

“national missile defense program” could wait until 2005 to be

operational. North Korea’s 31 August 1998 launch of their

three-stage missile disrupted these plans.

At their summit in June 1999, Clinton and Yeltsin agreed to

reopen discussions on the ABM Treaty, along with START III.

NMD remained three years away, and would not be fully operational until 2007, but the DOD recognized now that “NMD

deployment would require modifications to the treaty,” and so

the United States has “begun to engage the Russians and

allies on the need to change the ABM Treaty to permit deployment of a limited NMD system.”60 While Clinton remained in

office, these discussions did not produce results. In

September 2000, Clinton declined to make a decision on NMD

deployment, based on the administration’s assessment of the

threat, the status of the technology status, and the impact of

such a decision on arms-control efforts.61

Summary of Missile Defense

While issues relating to missile defense were without a

doubt the most active aspect of arms control during the first

decade after the Cold War, the activity should not be confused

with accomplishment. In 1989, President Bush was working to

persuade Moscow that the ABM Treaty should be revised significantly to address the current threats. In 2001, President

Bush was working to persuade Moscow that the ABM Treaty

should be revised significantly to address the current threats.

The only change was that other countries’ missile technology

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was 12 years more advanced, and two more states had

declared their nuclear capabilities. 

Even if the demarcation agreements had been ratified, one

cannot see them as significant. The four years of negotiations

had left the Russians and Americans where they started on

TMD: Below a certain interceptor threshold, a system clearly

lacked strategic defense capabilities; anything above that

threshold would be subject to review. Even the American concession on space-based interceptors only accepted the treaty

interpretation held by the Russians. They would have seen

space-based interceptors as a violation of the ABM Treaty in

any case. The New York Agreements just clarify that either the

Russians must accept them in the future, or the Americans

would need to withdraw from the treaty to deploy. The successor states agreement also only recognized that former

Soviet assets were dispersed. In principle Belarus, Ukraine, or

Kazakhstan could block an American-Russian modification to

ABM; the distribution of power among the states, however,

suggests that such a gambit would fail. The most significant

missile defense decision of these 12 years—and even it has not

been ratified—is accepting a common definition of a strategic

ballistic missile target.

Nonproliferation

As noted in the introduction, nonproliferation efforts were at

the center of the Clinton Administration’s arms-control program.62 Secretary of State Warren Christopher told the North

Atlantic Council on 2 December 1993 that the “most urgent

[challenge for the Alliance] is curbing the spread of weapons of

mass destruction and the means of delivering them. This

threat constitutes the arms-control agenda of the 1990s.”63 In

February 1994, the NSC defined counterproliferation as a twostep process. First, it included measures designed to prevent

proliferation by removing the incentive to do so, and to stop

the proliferation if it is not prevented. The second step was to

deter all use of weapons of mass destruction, via threats of

retaliation if necessary.64 This section does not look at all

aspects of counterproliferation, since clearly not all of them

fall into the scope of arms control. Four treaty negotiations

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were involved, however, and will be covered below. These

included extending the NPT, negotiating a CTBT, and developing verification or compliance procedures for the CWC and

BWC. Each of these treaties intends to discourage the development of such weapons, and to detect attempts to do so.

They are unusual, compared to the Cold War treaties, in that

each of them is multilateral—they required the agreement of

many states around the world. As we leave the clarity of the

bipolar world, however, such multilateral negotiations are

likely to become increasingly common. Even with strategic

arms, we are approaching the point where nuclear states

other than Russia and the United States will be participating.

Before discussing those four treaties, one other counterproliferation effort is worth mentioning. As the Soviet collapse

became imminent, Senators Richard Lugar (R-Ind.) and Sam

Nunn (D-Ga.) initiated a program to keep Soviet nuclear

weapons “under secure and responsible control” and also

reduce the chance that Soviet nuclear scientists and engineers

would “seek employment abroad.”65 Of the 30,000 former

Soviet weapons, the Nunn-Lugar CTR program was most concerned about the 3,200 outside Russia.66 While the program

began in fall 1991, funds were not used until 1993. The

Clinton Administration supported it from the beginning—on

22 March 1993, Christopher referred to the $800 million program as “a direct investment in our own security.”67 On

October 23 of that year, Christopher told a Moscow audience,

“It is in our shared interest to prevent the proliferation of

nuclear weapons within the former Soviet Union. Proliferation

would increase both the risks and the costs of conflict among

the new independent states.”68 Among other things, NunnLugar directly employed former Soviet nuclear scientists,

funded disarmament and storage facilities, and bought fissile

materials from the former Soviet states.69

Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty Extension

The most straightforward counterproliferation negotiation

during this era was the extension of the NPT, mandated for

1995 in the original treaty. Like all other agencies, the DOD

was “strongly behind the U.S. position to support indefinite

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and unconditional extension of the Treaty.”70 With the NPT

extension, all the action was on the international side of the

negotiations. Three alternatives to “indefinite and unconditional extension” were on the table. One was a second 25-year

extension, which some feared would end the treaty with its

expiration. A second was for there to be multiple extension

periods, punctuated by reviews. The third option was that the

nuclear states would need to finally take action toward disarmament or the treaty would be void.71

On 11 May 1995, the review conference did, without a formal vote, agree by consensus on the extension. This extension

did not require separate Senate consent, since Article X of the

original NPT provided for this conference and extension. As a

price for agreement, the nonnuclear weapons states called for

Israel to be required to join; the United States countered by

asking that all Middle Eastern states declare themselves

nuclear-free. The NPT extension also called for implementation of a comprehensive test ban. While this provision was

nonbinding, it set the stage for somewhat more conflictual

interagency diplomacy.72

Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty

Of the nonproliferation efforts, the negotiation of a CTBT

prompted the greatest interagency debate. During the bipolar

era, the DOD position, supported by the NSC, was simply that

testing was needed to maintain a deterrent force. While interested in ratifying both the 1974 Threshold Test Ban Treaty

(TTBT) and the 1976 Peaceful Nuclear Explosions Treaty

(PNET), the DOD “strenuously opposed congressional efforts

to limit further our nuclear weapons testing.” In principle, a

comprehensive test ban might be a good idea, “such a ban,

however, can be realized only when we do not need to depend

on nuclear deterrence to ensure international security and

stability.”73 Negotiation on verification protocols for both the

TTBT and PNET were signed at the Washington Summit in

June 1990. With September Senate consent, they entered into

force on 22 December 1990.74 With this complete, “The United

States has not identified any further restrictions on nuclear

testing beyond the TTBT that would be consistent with our

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national security requirements to maintain a safe and credible

nuclear deterrent.”75

The changing strategic environment, however, undermined

this long-standing position. In September 1992, Senators

Mark O. Hatfield, James Exon, and George J. Mitchell led

Congress to impose a testing moratorium through the following July. After that, 15 total tests would be allowed through

September 1996, followed by a complete ban “unless another

state tests after that date.” The DOD, still under the leadership

of Dick Cheney, objected that testing was still needed to

“maintain and improve the safety and reliability of our

forces.”76 President Bush signed this moratorium, however.

The Department of Energy disagreed with the extent of needed

testing. More significantly, with the sudden end of the Cold

War, there were no new weapons in development. With defense

policy moving away from reliance on nuclear deterrence, and

with nonproliferation receiving more emphasis, a comprehensive test ban seemed more realistic.

President Clinton’s inauguration, and the appointment of

Les Aspin to the Pentagon, cemented the shift in viewpoint.

Aspin’s department advocated a CTBT to “strengthen the

global norm against the proliferation of nuclear weapons and

constrain development of nuclear weapons capability in proliferant states and the nuclear weapons states.”77 With the

administration officially united in favor of a comprehensive

ban, the only remaining problem heading into the Conference

on Disarmament was defining comprehensive.

The TTBT and PNET had allowed individual tests with a yield

under 150 kilotons. Initially, the American position for CTBT

was to allow tests with yields under four pounds (1.8 kg). Such

“hydronuclear experiments,” in which fissile material was added

slowly to the reaction, were a legacy of the Eisenhower

Administration’s testing. In practice, such tests would be well

under a four-pound yield, but that was the safety limit that

would only be violated in one of a million experiments. The other

declared nuclear weapons states wanted even higher limits, as

high as 300 tons in the French case.78

In the wake of French nuclear tests in 1995, the Interagency

Group briefly considered proposing a 500-ton yield. Both JCS

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
and the State Department argued for this. The advantage

would be that very few tests would be required, compared to

ones with an even lower threshold. The disadvantage, of the

four-pound limit as well, was trying to convince the world that

a comprehensive ban had been achieved. OSD, now under

William Perry, preferred a true zero-yield option. On 11 August

1995, Clinton adopted that preference, which was shared by

ACDA and the NSC, deciding that the United States position

would be for zero-yield. This was politically acceptable domestically and internationally—France and the United Kingdom

were unwilling to resist the proposal, and China had been calling for it (perhaps insincerely) for some time. Russia finally

agreed in May 1996.79

Beyond the politics, which is always a valid negotiating concern, an arms-control rationale could be built for the true

zero-yield option. In practice, this meant that no self-sustaining

reactions would be permitted. With no positive yield permitted, this would effectively eliminate the breakout potential of a

nuclear program. This would counter proliferation more effectively than the higher-yield option. The four-pound experiments would be virtually impossible to detect in isolation, but

one could hope to be able to detect the long series of tests

needed to gain useful weapons knowledge from such tests. 

While all had agreed in May to the zero-yield, bargaining

over the inspection regime delayed signing until 24 September

1996—one week before the United States moratorium was set

to expire. The Western powers wanted inspections to be

allowed based on any relevant intelligence information. Such

inspections could be blocked by a “red light” from the CTBT

Executive Council. China, on the other hand, wanted inspections only with a supermajority “green light” from the

Executive Council. In a compromise, the Chinese accepted the

use of national technical measures along with the international monitoring system, and the United States accepted the

Chinese “green light” proposal.80

The CTBT would go into force only with the signatures of 44

specific states. Forty-one have signed; India, Pakistan, and

North Korea are the holdouts.81 While the United States

signed, the Senate rejected the treaty on 13 October 1999.

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President Clinton responded by stating that the United States

would comply anyway, and a moratorium on testing remained

in place for the remainder of his term.82 Like the New York

Agreements, the status of the CTBT for the United States

remains indeterminate. While the Senate rejected the treaty,

President Clinton’s subsequent reaffirmation may again

require the United States to follow the Vienna Convention on

the Law of Treaties and not violate the terms of the treaty

pending another attempt to persuade the Senate to consent to

its ratification. 

Chemical and Biological Weapons

On paper, at least, the executive branch has remained

united in favor of prohibiting both chemical and biological

weapons, in an effort to reduce the risk of proliferation. The

DOD was dismantling its systems by 1990, so it was easy to

assert that it was “committed to negotiating a comprehensive,

effectively verifiable, and truly global ban on chemical

weapons at the 40-nation Conference on Disarmament (CD) in

Geneva.”83 The bilateral agreement at the June 1990

Washington summit to reduce stockpiles to 5,000 agent tons

by 2002 would be a good example for a comprehensive effort.84

So when President Bush on 13 May 1991, in the immediate

aftermath of the Gulf War, proposed a global CWC to be completed within 12 months, there was little interagency objection. In his proposal, Bush waived even the right to retaliate in

kind to a chemical attack.85 While he missed his 12-month

goal, the CWC was completed on 3 September 1992; the

United States was an original signatory on 13 January 1993.86

CWC was unusual in that it was both multilateral and

would require concrete action by the signatories. The multilateral NPT had not required the United States or other

nuclear “haves” to do anything with their existing arsenals,

other than discuss arms reduction. CWC avoided this

dichotomy. While the states without chemical weapons would

be obliged to refrain from developing them, those with such

weapons would need to dismantle them. Twelve “Schedule A”

chemicals, considered “weapons” such as sarins, ricins, and

mustards, would be destroyed within 10 years. Three other

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
lists of chemicals, dangerous but with some legitimate commercial value, would also be subject to controls.87

A complex inspection regime was designed to ensure that

the CWC was followed. Challenge inspections could be conducted at any time, but following certain rules at the insistence of DOD. While a challenge team could be in-country

within 12 hours, and at the plant in 48 hours after the challenge was issued, inspections inside the plant would not begin

until 108 hours (41

⁄2 days) after the challenge.88 The inspections

would be managed, allowing some control over access to sensitive but nonprohibited activity.

With the agencies solidly behind the CWC, once the use of

riot control agents by downed pilots was agreed upon, its ratification seemed assured.89 This was not, however, a priority

for the Clinton Administration, and so it was not until 1995—

with 47 of the required 65 ratifications made—that the treaty

was submitted to the Senate.90 By this time, control of

Congress had passed to the opposition Republicans, who were

in no hurry to consent to the treaty (even though it was negotiated and signed under Bush). Sen. Bob Dole (R-Kans.) officially came out against the CWC in his 1996 presidential campaign; the vote was delayed until the following Congress.91 In

the meantime, Hungary became the 65th ratifier on 29 October

1996—so the CWC, and its commercial penalties against nonratifiers, would go into force with or without the United States

at the end of April 1997.

Ultimately, the Senate consented to the treaty four days

prior to its entry into force.92 Part of the delay was partisan—

Sen. Jesse Helms of North Carolina, for example, wanted the

US Information Agency and ACDA merged into the State

Department. Among the greatest concerns against the treaty,

which will hold true in future comprehensive arms-control

agreements, was its impact on the economy and on the rights

of private industry. In this case, the Chemical Manufacturers

Association (CMA) supported the ratification. The CMA represented the largest companies and represented about 95 percent of the relevant capacity. It regarded the odds of inspection at any plant as low enough to be acceptable; the many

smaller chemical firms disagreed.93 Despite the cost and

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ARMS CONTROL AFTER THE COLD WAR
inconvenience of inspection, however, the technical risk from

it was low. There was relatively little that a foreign inspection

team could steal from a chemical plant, since most chemicals

are not patented, and the manufacturing process itself would

be shielded.

These considerations did not apply to implementing the

1975 BWC. Within the Interagency Group, only the NSC, representing the president’s position, preferred moving ahead on

verification. The others were united on the common position

that the BWC could not be verifiable. There are just too many

small facilities capable of creating toxins, many of which also

would have dual uses. At best, the United States could work

toward a compliance mechanism. The Commerce Department

also weighed in on the debate, reflecting concerns of the pharmaceutical industry. Unlike the chemical industry, this sector

was united against BWC inspections. Even familiarization visits could afford the opportunity to steal patented compounds.

The majority opinion in this case carried the government position. The United States, unlike the rest of the world, rejected

all proposed BWC texts, through the end of the Clinton

Administration.94

Summary of Nonproliferation

The post–Cold War record with nonproliferation, as with

missile defense, is mixed. On paper, a great deal was accomplished. None dissented on the extension of the NPT. None in

the executive opposed the CWC. By the time it was signed, all

agreed on the zero-yield solution to the CTBT. Even the “failure” to achieve a compliance protocol on the BWC met the

Clinton Administration’s position in opposition to all such proposals. The results also appear good. Weapons of mass

destruction were not used by states. As far as is publicly

known, at least, the dangers of uncontrolled Soviet nuclear

weapons also have been averted. 

On the other hand, during this time both India and Pakistan

announced their nuclear capabilities. Suspicions remain

about nuclear programs in both North Korea and Iran. With

the expulsion of UN Special Commission (UNSCOM) inspectors,

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
Iraq also must be viewed as a possible proliferator. And within

the United States, the Senate rejected the CTBT.

Implications for US Policy and Strategy

The record of these 12 years suggests that arms control met

most of its goals. Reductions in strategic arms, renewed

regimes against proliferation of weapons of mass destruction,

and legitimization of theater missile defenses all contribute to

reducing the damage of war if it occurs. By eliminating whole

classes of weapons, economic savings were also achieved. In

so far as these agreements hold, the chances of war are also

reduced somewhat—an adversary equipped with WMD would

be more likely to initiate conflict than one that is not.

Even so, it is clear that more could have been achieved. Few

agreements were ratified and placed in effect; no agreement

was both negotiated and ratified during the Clinton

Administration. Repeatedly, the persons involved in these

agreements cited a lack of presidential leadership as a major

problem.95 One example of this is the lack of ratifications—

Clinton did not move as quickly as Bush did to secure the

gains of the early Yeltsin years. By 1995, both he and Yeltsin

faced uncooperative and suspicious legislatures. Many of

those interviewed noted an additional, more corrosive effect of

this lack of leadership. While the NSC typically represents the

president’s interests, many came to view the NSC as reflecting

the personal preferences of its staff. Whether this sentiment

was valid or not, it became difficult for the NSC to play its official role as a broker among the other agencies. 

As we move into the George W. Bush Administration, the

future of arms control seems likely to be different. He has

begun to implement the notion of strategic sufficiency, in

which the United Sates maintains only the number of nuclear

weapons it deems necessary. On 13 November 2001, he made

a unilateral commitment to reduce nuclear weapons to a total

of 1,700–2,200 deployed warheads, “a level,” he said, “fully

consistent with American security.”96 This announcement was

followed later that day by a commitment by Russian President

Vladimir Putin to cut Russian weapons by two-thirds.97 Putin

indicated a strong preference for a signed agreement, which

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Bush resisted. On this issue, Bush overruled the position of

Admiral Richard Mies, then CINCSTRAT, who was concerned

about the future of the nuclear triad.98 Secretary of Defense

Donald Rumsfeld has worked with the Senate to lift the

restrictions imposed on reducing the arsenal below the ratified

START I limits; while at this writing the House had only agreed

to finally allow the elimination of the 50 MX missiles, it is

probable that unilateral reductions will be permitted for this

president.99

If the November 2001 meetings in Washington and

Crawford, Texas, were designed to get Russian approval of

missile defense, they were less successful. While Putin hinted

that some additional compromises on testing could be worked

out, he reaffirmed the need to keep the ABM Treaty.100 As of

this writing, the Bush Administration has pressed forward on

testing with no announcement regarding withdrawal from the

treaty. For both strategic offenses and defenses, and the

remaining multilateral agreements, it will remain important

for the OSD and JCS to ensure that their positions are considered within the government whether arms control remains

informal or becomes more structured once again.

Notes

1. In Warren Christopher’s book on his time as secretary of state, if you

look up “arms control” in the index you find “see nonproliferation.” Warren

Christopher, In the Stream of History: Shaping Foreign Policy for a New Era

(Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1998), 573.

2. Stephen J. Hadley, “Arms Control and the Bush Administration,” in

Presidents and Arms Control: Process, Procedures, and Problems, ed. Kenneth

W. Thompson (Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1997), 60.

3. Jeffrey D. McCausland, “Conventional Arms Control,” in Arms Control:

Toward the 21st Century, eds. Jeffrey A. Larsen and Gregory J. Rattray

(Boulder, Colo.: Lynne Rienner, 1996), 144–46.

4. Department of Defense (DOD) Annual Report, 1993, 16. 

5. Sidney Graybeal and Patricia McFate, “Presidents and Arms Control,”

in Presidents and Arms Control, ed. Thompson, 72.

6. DOD Annual Report, 1991, 5.

7. DOD Annual Report, 1993, 14.

8. DOD Annual Report, 1995, 79.

9. DOD Annual Report, 1994, 47; and DOD Annual Report, 1995, 60.

10. DOD Annual Report, 1996, 61.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
11. In this section, interviews included, but were not limited to, Mark

Schneider, Kerry Kartchner, Forrest Waller, Susan Koch, Lucas Fisher,

Linton Brooks, David Hodson, Stan Riveles, and Rich Davidson.

12. Kerry M. Kartchner, Negotiating START: Strategic Arms Reduction

Talks and the Quest for Strategic Stability (New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction

Publishers, 1992), 3–4.

13. Kartchner, 35.

14. Ibid., 41–43.

15. George Bush and Brent Scowcroft, A World Transformed (New York:

Alfred A. Knopf, 1998), 40.

16. DOD Annual Report, 1990, 74.

17. Kartchner, 162–63.

18. Ibid., 164.

19. Ibid., 209.

20. Most of the details in this section are taken from ACDA fact sheet,

“Reductions in U.S. and Former Soviet Union Nuclear Weapons,” 30 April 1992.

21. DOD Annual Report, 1993, 14.

22. DOD Annual Report, 1995, 79–80.

23. Forrest Waller, “Strategic Offensive Arms Control,” in Arms Control,

106–7.

24. Hadley, 59–60.

25. Ibid., 61.

26. DOD Annual Report, 1993, 68.

27. DOD Annual Report, 2000, 69–70.

28. DOD Annual Report, 1998, 58.

29. ACDA Factsheet, 30 April 1992.

30. In this section, interviews included, but were not limited to, Stan

Riveles, Dr. Susan Koch, Linton Brooks, Lucas Fisher, Mitch Nikolich,

Dennis Ward, Col Glenn Trimmer, Dr. Mark Schneider, Lt Col Alan Van

Tassel, Lt Col Frank Wolf, and David Hodson.

31. DOD Annual Report, 1990, 16–17, 75–76.

32. Kartchner, 246–47.

33. DOD Annual Report, 1992, 59.

34. Graybeal and McFate, 127.

35. Robert G. Joseph, former ambassador to the ABM Treaty’s Standing

Consultative Commission, in statement to Senate Committee on Foreign

Relations, 13 May 1999, taken from http://www.fas.org/spp/starwars/congress/1999_h/s106-339-5.htm.

36. DOD Annual Report, 1991, 59.

37. Quoted by Stephen Hadley, former assistant secretary of defense, in

statement to Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, 13 May 1999, taken

from www.fas.org/spp/starwars/congress/1999_h/s106-339-5.htm.

38. Hadley, 13 May 1999.

39. Ibid., 13 May 1999.

40. DOD Report, 1993, 73.

41. Joseph statement, 13 May 1999.

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42. Janne E. Nolan, “Nuclear Weapons: Is There a Clinton Legacy?” in

Presidents and Arms Control, 77–93.

43. Graybeal and McFate, 129.

44. DOD Annual Report, 1994, 51–56.

45. Graybeal and McFate, 130.

46. DOD Annual Report, 1996, 221.

47. “Presidential Review 31,” published by Bill Gertz, Betrayal: How the

Clinton Administration Undermined American Security (Washington, D.C.:

Regnery Publishing, Inc., 1999), 234.

48. Gertz, 59.

49. Ibid.

50. While the other Soviet successor states participated in the negotiations, there is no evidence that they contributed to the negotiations in an

independent manner.

51. “First Agreed Statement Relating to the Treaty between the USA and

the USSR on the Limitation of ABM Systems of May 26, 1972,” signed 26

September 1997, par. 1.

52. ACDA Factsheet on the First Agreed Statement of September 26,

1997.

53. ACDA Factsheet on the Second Agreed Statement of September 26,

1997.

54. “Second Agreed Statement Relating to the Treaty between the USA

and the USSR on the Limitation of ABM Systems of May 26, 1972,” signed

26 September 1997, par. 2.

55. The point of law is in fact even more convoluted: While the United

States signed this convention, the Senate did not consent to Article 18.

56. DOD Annual Report, 1996, 219.

57. Ibid., 223.

58. DOD Annual Report, 1997, 216.

59. DOD Annual Report, 1998, 65.

60. DOD Annual Report, 2000, 70–74.

61. DOD Annual Report, 2001, 95.

62. In this section, interviews included, but were not limited to, Rick

D’Angelo, Amy Sands, Nicholas Carrera, and Ed Nawrocke.

63. Christopher, 137.

64. Virginia I. Foran, “Preventing the Spread of Arms: Nuclear Weapons,”

in Arms Control, 191.

65. DOD Annual Report, 1992, 3–4.

66. Gloria Duffy, “Beyond Defence, Deterrence, and Arms Control,” in

Arms Control: New Approaches to Theory and Policy, ed. Nancy W. Gallagher

(London: Frank Cass, 1998), 76.

67. Christopher, 49.

68. Ibid., 99.

69. Duffy, 77–78.

70. DOD Annual Report, 1994, 47.

71. Foran, 192–93.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
72. Foran, 194–95.

73. DOD Annual Report, 1990, 77–78.

74. DOD Annual Report, 1991, 5.

75. DOD Annual Report, 1992, 12.

76. Ibid., 15–16. 

77. DOD Annual Report, 1995, 77.

78. Rebecca Johnson, “Nuclear Arms Control through Multilateral

Negotiations,” in Arms Control: New Approaches to Theory and Policy, ed.

Nancy W. Gallagher (London: Frank Cass, 1998), 88.

79. Johnson, 89.

80. Ibid., 100–101.

81. Ibid., 105.

82. DOD Annual Report, 2001, 93.

83. DOD Annual Report, 1990, 78.

84. DOD Annual Report, 1991, 5.

85. DOD Annual Report, 1992, 12.

86. DOD Annual Report, 1993, 16; DOD Annual Report, 1994, 48.

87. Marie Isabelle Chevrier and Amy E. Smithson, “Preventing the

Spread of Arms: Chemical and Biological Weapons,” in Arms Control, 203–4.

88. Chevrier and Smithson, 205.

89. Rebecca K.C. Hersman, Friends and Foes: How Congress and the

President Really Make Foreign Policy (Washington: Brookings Institution,

2000), 86, 96.

90. DOD Annual Report, 1996, 58.

91. Amy Sands, “The Impact of Governmental Context on Negotiation

and Implementation: Constraints and Opportunities for Change,” in Arms

Control, 125.

92. Bureau of Arms Control Factsheet.

93. Jennifer E. Sims, “The U.S. Domestic Context,” in Arms Control,

66–73.

94. Chevrier and Smithson, 213–14.

95. Sands is one who has put this view into print.

96. Karen DeYoung and Dana Milbank, “Bush, Putin Agree to Slash

Nuclear Arms,” Washington Post, 14 November 2001, A01.

97. “Putin pledges ‘radical’ arms cuts,” BBC, 14 November 2001.

98. Peter Baker, “A Familiar Bush Strategy on Disarmament,”

Washington Post, 14 November 2001, A06.

99. Walter Pincus, “The Tough Task of Nuclear Reduction: History Shows

Weapons Are Hard to Eliminate,” Washington Post, 17 November 2001, A03.

100. David E. Sanger, “Before and After Bush and Putin’s Banter, No

Agreement on Missile Defense,” The New York Times, 15 November 2001.

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Chapter 8

Downsizing and Shifting Operational

Emphasis for the US Air Force: The Bush

and Clinton Years, 1989–2000

Thomas D. Miller

If the period from 1989 to 2000 began when the Cold War

was still “hot,” it also encompassed the end of the Cold War

and began what is still referred to as the Post-Cold War period.

It marks a time when the United States began the transition

from a well-defined and fairly constant security landscape of

impressive duration. Where the transition is to remains the

subject of continuing debate and speculation. It has however,

transformed the arms-control community. While the fall of the

Soviet Union and the dissolution of the Warsaw Pact are not

solely responsible for the transformation, it was the seminal

event and provides the context in which to reflect upon the

arms-control trends of this period.

An examination of this period is, at best, a work-in-progress

as the lens of time has not yet moved far enough from the

events to permit a clear picture of the importance and interplay of the various forces at work. Indeed, within the Washington

arms-control community, sides are still being taken over the

questions of what happened, why, and with what result. This

condition is exacerbated by the fact that much of the detailed

arms-control documentation of this period remains classified,

thus forcing undue reliance on individual remembrances of

events that grow less clear with the passage of time. Events of

the period are thus more susceptible to the innocent and

unavoidable memory lapses of individuals concerning what

negotiating positions were taken, and why, because they can

no longer separate those memories from later events. The current agendas of involved organizations may also affect the way

significant events of the last decade are now described. The

227
classified nature of the documentation thus limits the examination of specific treaty issues of interest to the Air Force to a

more general treatment than would be preferred.

In the Beginning

Sometime between 1989 and 1992, the US arms-control infrastructure reached its high-water mark. Leadership was experienced; organizations were clearly defined, staffed with talented

personnel, and well funded. This was certainly true within the

US Air Force. On the Air Staff, the responsibility for all facets

of arms control—from negotiation support to treaty implementation and compliance activities—was centralized in the

International Negotiations Division (AF/XOXI) (today the

National Security Policy Division, AF/XONP). This was perhaps

the only Air Staff organization that defined Air Force policy,

made plans, determined and budgeted for the resources necessary, and directed Air Force-wide execution of those plans. At

its peak, over two dozen officers were assigned to AF/XOXI.

Due to the direct impact of nuclear arms-control efforts on

its war-fighting capabilities, an arms control, or more properly, a treaties division, existed in the Plans and Policy directorate of the Strategic Air Command (SAC/XPXT). This division directed the execution of Air Force treaty implementation

and compliance activities at SAC bases. It also functioned as

SAC’s conduit into both the Air and Joint Staffs. That SAC had

a direct relationship with both organizations resulted from its

dual status as both the only remaining specified command,

with a commander in chief (CINC) and his attendant combatant command responsibilities, and as an Air Force major command with its service responsibilities to train, organize, and

equip combat forces for employment. In this regard, SAC was

unique in the Department of Defense (DOD). It had the

responsibility to acquire and train, in peacetime, the force it

would employ in war. A specified command is comprised of

only a single service, in this case the Air Force, and as such,

the Air Staff clearly had a special relationship with the predominate nuclear war fighter of the day. This relationship

extended to their respective arms-control organizations. 

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
SAC not only heavily influenced Air Force positions on armscontrol issues; it was the source of many experienced armscontrol staff officers later assigned to XOXI. An excellent example of this, and of the experienced leadership enjoyed by the Air

Force arms-control community early in this period, was

Richard B. Wallace. Wallace, a B-52 radar navigator, was

assigned as a major to SAC/XPXT before being transferred to

AF/XOXI. After his first tour in XOXI, he served in a variety of

arms-control positions, including special assistant to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS). Bringing with him a

wealth of knowledge on the treaties and related issues, experience with the negotiating process, and close personal contacts

with many in the arms-control community, Colonel Wallace

returned to XOXI early in this period to lead the division.

The US internal negotiation support process was well structured and understood by those government agencies involved,

as were the various perspectives and equities of the participants. The history of Cold War arms control, at that time, was

one of extended bilateral negotiations. These negotiations were

focused on nuclear force structure and supported by extremely

detailed analyses of the relative costs and benefits accrued to

each side in each possible interpretation of each element of

every proposal. The perspective of the Air Force was that arms

control was the use of diplomacy and international law to

increase national security and promote international stability.

This included actions which

• decreased the danger of military and technical surprise;

• improved military transparency and built confidence;

• controlled the spread of nuclear, chemical, biological, and

other sophisticated weapon technology; and,

• reduced the risk to defensive forces and noncombatants

from hostile acts.

Clearly, from a military perspective, the value of an armscontrol proposal was determined by its effect on national security. At that time, the Soviet Union presented a clear and present danger to national survival. National security was the

overriding concern and was the responsibility of the chiefs of

the four military services. Given the influence of the service

chiefs at the start of this period, there was little chance that

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DOWNSIZING AND SHIFTING OPERATIONAL EMPHASIS
any arms-control proposal which placed limitations on the

development, fielding, or use of military equipment, or forces,

yet offered no reasonable expectation of increased national

security, would be accepted. Treaty progress often appeared

glacial, but there was an underlying confidence that the

agreements were being well defined, the security ramifications

and force structure implications were well understood, and

talking with the Russians was better than fighting with them.

There was also a sense that arms control was on the verge of

major breakthroughs.

The potential for breakthroughs had two major elements.

First, it became apparent that exciting possibilities existed for

further deep bilateral reductions in nuclear forces. As the

scope of the economic collapse of the Soviet Union became

evident, this sense of an upcoming breakthrough found focus

as a desire to codify the US Cold War victory. This could be

accomplished by capturing, in legally binding documents, the

force structure reductions that would be forced, at least in the

near term, on the Soviet Union, and later Russia, by economic

limitations. The other potential breakthrough was based upon

a growing awareness that the proliferation of nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons and technology (outside the context of East-West competition) was a serious problem that

would likely become worse as the Soviet Union’s economic and

political decline accelerated. There was widespread interest in

the utility of arms-control vehicles to effectively address these

broad new challenges.

As shown in figure 2, the sense that there were new and exciting possibilities for arms control proved to be accurate. When the

US Air Force came into existence, there was one agreement for

the Air Force to comply with—the Geneva Protocol banning the

use of chemical and biological weapons. Even when the AntiBallistic Missile (ABM) Treaty was signed in 1972, there were few

agreements, and fewer still relevant to the Air Force. Starting in

the 1987 time frame, however, the number of arms-control

agreements increased rapidly, and by the end of 2000, the

United States had signed over 40 arms-control treaties and

agreements with implications for the Air Force. This rapid expansion was only an indicator of more fundamental changes.

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
What Changed

An essentially bipolar world emerged shortly after the end of

World War II and provided a useful military, political, and economic construct for over four decades. The breakup of the

bipolar structure, marked by the fall of the Soviet Union,

transfigured much of the world and fostered a significant

increase in the number of actors and regional conflicts. These

“new” actors and conflicts, which appeared to fuel the proliferation fire, were often viewed by the United States as new and

different because they took place outside the familiar context

of US-USSR competition. Many, however, were actors and conflicts that had lain more or less dormant for years due to the

overriding influence of the superpower conflict and the tight

control exercised by the Soviet Union within its post-WWII

sphere of influence.

If arms control were to address these broad new challenges

and objectives, new arms-control tools would clearly be

required. Obviously, bilateral treaties between the United

States and Soviet Union, or later Russia, would not be effective. New multilateral agreements were required and a variety

of new confidence and security building measures, such as

observations and force structure data reporting requirements,

were also introduced. The movement from bilateral treaties to

multilateral treaties included the ABM Treaty between the

United States and the Soviet Union, which was formally

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DOWNSIZING AND SHIFTING OPERATIONAL EMPHASIS

Geneva Protocol

NPT

ABM

SALT I

SALT II

START I

CWC

CFE

INF

APL

Open Skies

START II

START III

CFE II

?

50

40

30

20

10

0

1945 1948 1951 1954 1957 1960 1963 1966 1966 1969 1972 1975 1978 1981 1984 1987 1993 1996 1999 2002

Figure 2. Treaties and Agreements Growth
“multilateralized” by determining the Soviet Union successor

states. With the end of the Cold War, the trend of US involvement in arms control was a gradual and informal movement

from a clear emphasis on improving security to the more nebulous objectives of fostering global norms of behavior and supporting broad US political and economic agendas. This is to

say, some reduction in US combat capability became acceptable even if the United States gained no additional security.

This change in direction produced arms-control efforts

increasingly disconnected from the national security strategy.

The results of the US arms-control process also became less

predictable as the center of influence shifted away from the

services. 

Service positions were no longer decisive on arms-control

issues due to a combination of factors. First, the fall of the

Soviet Union removed the clear and present danger, the

accepted metric, against which the effects on national security

of any arms-control proposal could be assessed. This proved

to be a serious deficiency when the broadened objectives of

arms control led naturally to the increased involvement of

nongovernmental organizations with humanitarian and abolitionist, rather than national security, interests. This eventually led to proposals to ban or greatly restrict the use of socalled blinding lasers (which could have eliminated most US

laser range finders), the Ottawa Convention on Anti-personnel

Land Mines, and most recently, small-arms controls. Political

and economic concerns began to dominate what had been

political-military discussions. 

Instead of meaningful participation in the process of formulating the US position from the onset, the services were increasingly brought into the discussion late in the internal US debate,

and in essence asked, “Is there any reason the United States

cannot ... ?” There was less interest in the effect on national

security of a particular agreement because “as the last remaining super power, we can afford to give up our....” What concern

there was focused more on whether US compliance with a proposal was physically possible and, on occasion, the cost of compliance. Arms control became well and truly disconnected from

national security strategy to the extent that the Air Staff

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
developed a briefing, shared with the other services and Joint

Staff at the three-star level, illustrating that national security

was facing a “death by a thousand cuts” from the accumulated

effects of numerous arms-control concessions. Even in nuclear

reductions, the question of “how low can you go” seemed driven

by economics and ideology, not security concerns. By historical

standards, major arms-control negotiations were completed

unbelievably rapidly, and without the benefit of analysis concerning the national security implications.

Under the Clinton Administration, the Air Force perspective

on arms control outlined earlier was increasingly out of step.

From a service perspective, it appeared arms control had been

transformed from a sometimes painful tool useful in increasing national security to an end unto itself. At the same time,

the reduced force structure and less stable, more unpredictable world increased the desire of the Air Force to maintain

current operational flexibility and keep future options open.

This flexibility was viewed as essential in an era when it was

seemingly impossible to predict where US troops would next

be deployed, and why, or what new defense challenges the

United States would turn to advanced technology to address.

Accordingly, during this period, Air Force arms-control priorities shifted from protecting force structure to avoiding operational constraints and opposing proposals that would clearly

limit or prohibit the military uses of future technology. It

became increasingly difficult for the Air Staff to support armscontrol initiatives of the Clinton Administration that seemed to

further what the Air Staff was trying to avoid.

The military was not unique. Congress was openly antagonistic and as a result, congressional consultations were avoided,

and the president signed treaties that had virtually no chance

of ratification. The START II Modification and the Treaty on

Conventional Armed Forces in Europe (CFE) Adaptation are

good examples. The Chemical Weapons Convention (CWC) was

ratified by the United States (barely), largely to ensure a US

role in the governing body, but was widely viewed as being

unverifiable and unenforceable, yet permitting the most intrusive inspections to date. The Biological Weapons Convention

showed all indications of being worse yet—more intrusive than

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the CWC, yet even less verifiable. Further, the United States

rejected the inspection protocol, largely due not to security

concerns of the military, but rather the intense lobbying of the

pharmaceutical industry whose industrial secrets were potentially at risk. During this period of decreasing military influence in the arms-control process, the Air Force was also

simultaneously coming to grips with the effects of two other

factors: the gradually increasing responsibility and authority

of the Joint Staff and CINCs due to the Goldwater-Nichols

Defense Reorganization Act of 1986 and the disestablishment

of SAC in 1992. 

Authority and responsibility in the military is seen as a

“zero-sum” equation. If one organization is assigned more,

another has less. The increased authority and responsibility of

the Joint Staff and CINCs mandated by Goldwater-Nichols

came at the expense of the military services. The shift did not

occur at once, certainly not in the arms-control arena. It took

place gradually as the CINCs and Joint Staff came to understand the expanded limits of their new authority and the services gave ground grudgingly. Bureaucratic momentum is slow

to change, but over time the ascendancy of the CINCs took

place. This did not, however, leave the services without authority in arms control. Treaty implementation and compliance

remained largely a service responsibility, but establishing war

fighting requirements, and thus the assessment of an armscontrol proposal’s effect on national security, became predominantly the role of the CINCs. The other contributing factor the

Air Force was coming to grips with involved SAC.

The transmutation of the specified command, SAC, into a

unified command, US Strategic Command (USSTRATCOM)

caused a fundamental transformation of the Air Force. In this

case, some effects were felt almost immediately, but here also,

others were recognized more slowly. The immediate effects

involved the transfer of the service responsibilities of an Air

Force major command to train, organize, and equip forces. The

retirement of the SAC shield made possible a large reorganization of the Air Force. As SAC stood down, so did the Tactical

Air Command and the Military Airlift Command. Replacing

these three commands were two: Air Combat Command (ACC)

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
and Air Mobility Command (AMC). The responsibility to plan,

program for, and train SAC’s tanker aircraft went to AMC.

Initially, the bomber and intercontinental ballistic missile

(ICBM) responsibilities both went to ACC; however, after about

a year, the ICBMs moved to Air Force Space Command. 

USSTRATCOM, ACC, and AMC all established provisional

headquarters elements before the actual stand-up date to

smooth the transition to the new command structure.

Regardless, it was still a traumatic event, particularly at ACC

and AMC where the transfer of responsibilities was significant

and occurred, in a very real sense, overnight. The change was

also felt at the Air Staff, albeit more gradually. The change was

more gradual for two reasons. First, no SAC responsibilities

were formally transferred to the Air Staff and second, the circumstances and personnel surrounding the stand-up of

USSTRATCOM provided a certain amount of continuity.

Almost two-thirds of the personnel billets in USSTRATCOM

were planned to be Air Force, with one-third being Navy with

a smattering of Army and Marine Corps billets. At the time

USSTRATCOM stood, however, well over three-fourths of the

staff was comprised of Air Force personnel as former SAC personnel were retained in the new command for varying periods

of time. This was done to either spread out arrival dates of new

personnel in an effort to avoid the turbulence which would

occur three years later if the majority of the staff completed its

joint tour and transferred at the same time, or to allow SAC

personnel, who chose not to accept another assignment, the

opportunity to complete their careers and retire. Additionally,

some billets were identified as critical to the USSTRATCOM

transition and the SAC incumbent was retained to provide

continuity. This initial imbalance was acceptable to the US

Navy as it provided time for their personnel system to “grow”

into satisfying the new USSTRATCOM staff requirement for

over 200 Navy personnel. 

In the nuclear arms-control arena, the continuity provided

by three Air Force officers slowed the inevitable growing apart

of the Air Staff and USSTRATCOM for several years. The last

CINCSAC, Gen “Lee” Butler, became the first CINCSTRAT; the

last SAC/XP, deputy chief of staff for Plans and Resources,

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DOWNSIZING AND SHIFTING OPERATIONAL EMPHASIS
Maj Gen Robert Linhard, became the first USSTRATCOM J-5,

director of Plans and Policy; and Col Robert “Dusty” Rhoades,

the last SAC/XPX, director of Force Plans and Policy, became

the first USSTRATCOM J-51, chief of the Strategy and Policy

Division. All were experienced “arms controllers,” and were

familiar with the current nuclear arms-control issues from Air

Force and SAC perspectives. Colonel Rhoades had led

SAC/XPXT earlier in his career; and, as a colonel, General

Linhard had served in the National Security Council during

the Reagan Administration when the groundwork for the

treaty successes of the Bush Administration was put into

place. General Butler had supported the Strategic Arms

Limitation Talks while assigned to the Air Staff in 1974 and

had served as the Joint Staff J-5 prior to assuming command

of SAC in 1991. In effect, a talented and experienced SAC

arms-control “chain of command” transitioned unbroken to

USSTRATCOM. As a result, although common interests facilitated a more robust relationship with the Navy, the close relationship between SAC and the Air Staff was retained for their

tenure. Naval officers would later move into all three of these

positions on at least a rotational basis, and this encouraged

the natural development also of a stronger relationship with

the Navy. However, USSTRATCOM appropriately developed its

closest relationship with the Joint Staff. 

As time passed, another effect of SAC’s demise was recognized. The Air Force had lost its organizational focal point for

nuclear matters. On the Air Staff, the historical dependency

on SAC for nuclear expertise gradually became apparent as

the interests and agendas of the Air Staff and USSTRATCOM

diverged over time. It also became apparent that, in this

regard, neither ACC nor Air Force Space Command had filled

the void left by SAC. In response, and as part of a larger reorganization of the Air Staff in 1996, Gen Ronald Fogleman, the

Air Force chief of staff, directed the creation of AF/XON, the

Nuclear and Counterproliferation Directorate. As part of this

reorganization, XOXI formally assumed additional responsibilities involving counterproliferation and became XONP, the

National Security Policy Division. Despite the additional

responsibilities, however, the division’s manpower was being

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
steadily reduced as a result of a series of large, congressionally

mandated, service headquarters staff reductions. Although it

had greater responsibilities, XONP manning had been reduced

over 60 percent and, by the end of 1999, less than 10 officers

were assigned.

What Worked

The central Air Force arms-control organization, XOXI,

entered this period with experienced leadership, an office well

manned with experienced people, and great institutional

power in the arms-control process. By the end of the period,

XONP had none of these things, yet had undeniably remained

remarkably effective in influencing events throughout the

period. This happened for a variety of reasons, among them

the personal contributions of Major General Linhard.

After completing his tour as the USSTRATCOM J-5 in 1994,

General Linhard was assigned to the Air Staff as the director

of Plans, AF/XOX, where, as part of a broad and diverse set of

responsibilities, he supervised and directed the activities of

XOXI. Exceptionally well-respected in the US arms-control

community, he had remained current in nuclear arms-control

matters as the J-5. He brought to the Air Staff a belief that

good ideas combined with a thorough understanding of the

issues and process could be decisive. Accordingly, he emphasized thoroughly understanding the staff processes involved in

an issue, the key actors and their equities, and seeking to

strategically effect results through intellectual excellence. This

philosophy required the Air Force to be proactive in the armscontrol process. As the Air Force’s institutional power had

been greatly reduced, the Air Force now had to demonstrate it

offered great value to the process. Key to the strategy was

compensating for the continuity and source of experienced

arms-control officers that disappeared with SAC and the

reduction in service headquarters staff personnel. Air Staff

efforts to address this shortfall focused on hiring highly qualified contractor personnel to augment the Air Staff arms-control

office. Examples include Commander Kenneth J. Chapman,

USN, retired, who was the acknowledged Joint Staff and DOD

expert on the CFE Treaty when he retired and Dr. Mitch

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Nikolich, whose academic background and involvement in

missile defense programs during the Reagan years enabled the

Air Force to achieve a strong technical understanding of futuristic missile defense and the associated treaty implications

and issues. It would be difficult to overestimate the impact of

these talented individuals and others like them, in advancing

Air Force positions in the arms-control arena through the

years that followed. 

Another way that XOXI, and later XONP, added value to the

arms-control community on a routine basis was by identifying

emerging arms-control issues, thoughtfully constructing a

framework which identified the implications, pros and cons,

and then vetted the work with the broader arms-control

community—in effect helping the community determine how

to think about an idea conceptually before it became an issue.

Key factors in the success of this approach were the collegial

manner in which the vetting was accomplished, the senior level

of the personnel, the personal nature of the relationships

involved, and the trust this approach fostered.

Many of the major XOXI/XONP efforts were vetted as part of

a conference series held at Airlie House, a conference center in

Warrenton, Virginia. These conferences were typically one and

one-half to two days in length. While the format of the programs varied slightly, it generally involved a half-day of the Air

Force presenting a body of work it had finished, usually a

framework which organized the important factors and implications of a given issue or question. This was followed by a

half-day or more of small group activities designed to validate

the work by using it, often building upon it in some way to

become familiar with the rationale supporting the construct or

to explore the implications of different US courses of action.

During the last half-day, the small groups briefed their activities to the entire conference and the results were discussed. 

A series of 10 Airlie House conferences were held between

1995 and 2000. They were

• Airlie I (Arms Control Political—Military Game); the international political ramifications of early implementation of

START II;

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
• Airlie II (Alternative Futures for Strategic Arms Control);

three START II implementation scenarios—accelerated,

on-time, and delayed;

• Airlie III (Strategic Offense/Defense Issues); strategic

offense/defense issues in the current security environment;

• Airlie IV (Asian Regional Security Issues); understanding

arms control and proliferation issues in Asia;

• Airlie V (The Future of US Nuclear Strategy); factors effecting US nuclear strategy and implications for the Air Force;

• Airlie VI (US Nuclear Strategy—Back to the Future); role

of nuclear weapons in national security and potential

objectives of arms control;

• Airlie VII (Counterproliferation); linkage between policy

objectives and operational capabilities shaping efforts to

organize, train, and equip forces;

• Airlie VIII (Implementing Counterproliferation); inform

senior officials on DOD and Air Force counterproliferation

initiatives and build consensus;

• Airlie IX (The Future of Air Force Nuclear Strategy); the

future nuclear force structure requirements, issues, and

challenges facing the Air Force; and

• Airlie X (The Air Force Agenda for Arms Control); the

extent current and future treaties could restrict technologies and ways to resolve restrictions.

Clearly the quality of the Air Force work was important to

the success of these conferences, but no less important were

the participants. Largely due to General Linhard’s efforts, the

list of conferees was literally a “Who’s Who” of the DOD armscontrol world. Mr. Bob Bell, from the National Security

Council, was a frequent attendee, as were Ambassadors

Linton Brooks, Henry Cooper, Reed Hamner, Bob Joseph, and

Ron Lehman. At least one general officer and often several

always represented the Air Force. On occasion, either the vice

chief of staff of the Air Force or the Air Force director of Air and

Space Operations were present. Depending on the subject

being addressed, conferees also represented the Joint Staff,

other services, CINCs, Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers

Europe (SHAPE), NATO, several offices in OSD, the

Department of Energy, and the Defense Nuclear Agency—later

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DOWNSIZING AND SHIFTING OPERATIONAL EMPHASIS
becoming the Defense Special Weapons Agency, and most

recently, the Defense Threat Reduction Agency. Also included

were the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency, the National

Laboratories, national intelligence organizations, and senior

policy analysts and futurists. 

The effects of the Airlie House series were threefold. First,

the series established Air Force credibility and involvement on

a subject. Second, it provided a forum for the Air Force to

informally and subtly register its position, or at least the intellectual underpinnings of a future position, on an issue, determine the leanings and rationale of other agencies likely to be

involved, and hopefully sway a few towards the Air Force line

of reasoning. Last, it provided an opportunity for the Air Staff

to develop the personal relationships that enabled the sharing

of sensitive information.

This same philosophy extended to implementation and compliance activities. During this period, the Air Force routinely

supported the Joint Staff as part of the US delegation during

negotiating sessions in Geneva, which could last six weeks.

Given the manpower cuts, this became increasingly burdensome for the Air Staff, but in truth, due to their own manpower reductions, the Joint Staff nuclear arms-control organization required support from the Air Force to be completely

effective, particularly as the objectives of the military and

Clinton Administration diverged. In this environment, it was

advantageous for the Air Staff to be inside the US delegation

where it could immediately inform and influence the US position when the Russians raised an issue. These lengthy sessions in Geneva also provided another opportunity to establish

a close working relationship with key actors in the US armscontrol community that would keep the Air Staff informed as

events unfolded even after returning to Washington, D.C. 

Other initiatives of XONP demonstrating the proactive mindset of the time included the development of a treaty

“Compliance Gameplan” for the Airborne Laser (ABL) and

working treaty-compliance issues within the US government.

The ABL Gameplan was designed to ensure the Air Force did

not inadvertently violate a treaty during the ABL’s development phase or take an action, such as testing the ABL against

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MILESTONES IN STRATEGIC ARMS CONTROL
an ICBM, which would cause it to be defined as a strategic ballistic missile defense system, and thus prohibited by the ABM

Treaty. The second part of this effort involved introducing

information on new weapons systems to the United States.

Compliance Review Group (CRG), the DOD forum with the

responsibility to formally determine, for the US government,

treaty compliance when it even appears there may be an issue.

Being proactive in providing information to the CRG well

before a specific compliance issue arose paid huge dividends

for the Air Force both in preventing an issue from being raised

due to a simple misunderstanding concerning the operation or

capabilities of a weapons system, and in successfully defending the Air Staff position if a compliance issue were raised. 

Sharing information to educate others involved in the broader

arms-control process regarding Air Force weapons systems and

procedures also proved valuable. For instance, in the interest in

improving warhead monitoring, the United States was contemplating a proposal that would open nuclear weapon storage areas

(WSA) for inspection. This would permit the nuclear weapons, in

their sealed containers, to be viewed and counted. The Air Force

strongly opposed this and arranged a tour of base-level WSAs for

involved members of the Joint Staff and OSD. It was quickly

established that the specific proposal was unworkable. Similarly,

the Air Force also provided a forum for the larger arms-control

community to explore more complex issues and create a common understanding of the intricacies of implementation. This

established the Air Force’s credibility and provided it the opportunity to highlight important Air Force operational issues and

influence the US position. It also served, in the same manner as

Airlie House conferences and Joint Compliance and Inspection

Commission (JCIC) sessions, to build the common frame of reference and relationships that would ensure the Air Force was

considered a valuable participant in any discussion of the issue.

For example, the CWC inspection protocols included provision

for a “challenge inspection.” If directed at the United States this

would initiate the most intrusive arms-control-driven inspection

a US facility had ever experienced. In an effort to foster an understanding of the operational, security, and policy issues and

potential pitfalls of such an inspection, the Air Force hosted a

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DOWNSIZING AND SHIFTING OPERATIONAL EMPHASIS
series of “mock challenge inspections” at active US air bases both

in the continental United States (CONUS) and abroad. There was

broad interagency participation in these week-long, high-fidelity

exercises designed to test various US procedures and policies

prior to treaty entry into force. As a result of this initiative, many

US procedures were revised and policies modified as a better

understanding of the demands of such an inspection and the

military equities at risk was achieved.

When It Was Over

By the end of the Clinton terms, the way the world thought

about arms control had changed. The concepts of equality,

verifiability, and deep cuts that were the heritage of the

Reagan years were no longer the cornerstones of negotiations.

Nuclear negotiations were at a full stop; it appeared the

Russians were neither really interested in additional cuts nor

particularly influenced by the size of the US force. The number of arms-control agreements had slowed appreciably: 26

agreements concluded between 1987 and 1995, compared to

only four between 1996 and 2001. Perhaps more troubling

from a US perspective is that historic US allies in Europe

seemed interested in arms-control efforts that would limit US

unilateral capabilities or constrain US technology advances in

areas such as space and information operations. In some US

circles, there was now growing dissatisfaction with the old

bilateral treaties and recognition that they not only failed to

address the new security concerns, they could also be counterproductive. The old tools, force reduction and inspection,

were still in place, but Russian compliance was increasingly

not enforced for economic or political reasons. As a result, the

utility of these agreements was increasingly called into question. Due to the rapid completion of several major treaties

early in the period (INF, START I, CFE) with several others in

work (CWC, START II, Open Skies), emphasis in the Air Force

had shifted from treaty negotiation support to implementation

and compliance issues. New compliance concerns were being

raised involving treaties of indefinite duration as the discontinuities between the current security environment and those at

the time of treaty signature became increasingly apparent. For

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example, the CFE Treaty did not envision the circumstances

surrounding US involvement in Bosnia, but did complicate the

logistics problem of US force deployment. Likewise, the Vienna

Document did not envision a situation which would permit the

Russians to conduct 10 inspections of NATO staging bases

and provide information on force composition and location to

a third party actively engaged in a conflict with NATO. Yet, that

is what happened. Finally, from a US perspective, the ABM

Treaty was never intended to restrict theater missile defense

or leave the US homeland vulnerable to rogue threats, yet

arguably, it was doing both. 

The new multilateral treaties were often not considered a

success either. The Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) was one

example. Although generally regarded in military circles as

useful, the pressure by nonnuclear weapons states on the

nuclear weapons states for a specific commitment on nuclear

disarmament left many in the United States wondering if the

cost of the treaty might exceed its usefulness in the near

future. More importantly, there was a sense that with the end

of the Cold War, and its underlying economic and political

competition, old bilateral treaties, such as the Strategic Arms

Reduction Treaty I (START I) and the ABM Treaty, were out of

place. Military treaties seldom exist between friendly nations,

and, rather than being viewed as the foundation of the US

strategic relationship with the Russians, there was a growing

suspicion these bilateral treaties might only be preserving an

adversarial relationship and inhibiting the evolution of a

warmer one. As the period ended, there was in the arms-control community a sense that the United States was again on

the verge of major change, but there was great uncertainty as

to what the direction would be. 

Treaty Issue Addendum

Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty

The Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (START I) which

entered into force in 1994 is a good example of a treaty that

was largely negotiated in one reality (Cold War) but entered

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into force in another (Post-Cold War). Generally accepted as a

landmark treaty, there continued to be implementation and

compliance issues discussed at the JCIC. Examples include

use of ICBM parts for space activities, B-1B cruise missile

hard point covers, and Peacekeeper elimination procedures.

These issues resulted from individual interpretations of treaty

text and, in some cases, conflicting treaty provisions.

For the Air Force, these were largely resource issues. The Air

Force was unwilling to spend additional, and in its view

unnecessary, money to satisfy Russian concerns involving

issues not believed to be important to the Russians. Rather,

they were believed to be issues of “convenience” used to keep

the other treaty partner on the defensive. As such, even if

resolved, another issue would quickly be found. These issues

were not resolved. 

Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty II

The Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty II (START II) was ratified and represented the US attempt to codify the Russian economic disadvantage. In several areas, it clearly favored the

United States and was substantially modified by the Russian

Duma before ratification. The modified treaty has not been

resubmitted to the US Senate as of this writing.

For the Air Force, the significant issue was that the retention

of the bomber conventional capability that the United States was

finding increasingly important was apparently not taken into

account when negotiating the treaty. The treaty states that

bombers would count against nuclear warhead limits “as

equipped” without defining the term or stating any requirement

to modify the aircraft. This statement all but guarantees compliance issues with the Russians if the treaty is ratified by the

United States.

A Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty III (START III) was first

envisioned as a rapid follow-on to START II, and it was presented by the Clinton Administration as a way to reenergize

the nuclear reduction process. The concept was to resolve the

START II impasse by getting past the START II equity issues

through a substantial reduction in the numbers of deployed

nuclear weapons permitted by START II. This effort died when

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it became apparent the JCS would not support START III

without a START II entry into force prerequisite. Without

START II as a known departure point, the chiefs found it

impossible to define the issues, goals, and security objectives

for START III or assess the impact on US national security.

START III standing alone was too unfocused and unbounded

for the chiefs to support given their distrust of a US negotiating process that no longer recognized that no agreement might

be better than a bad agreement.

Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty

The Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty (ABM Treaty) raised serious

issues associated with theater missile defense (TMD) and, later,

with national missile defense. Although a treaty vehicle already

existed to resolve the issues, in 1993 Congress required a treaty

compliance review of three specific TMD programs, including the

Army’s Theater Air Defense (THAD) program.

Both the Ballistic Missile Defense Organization (BMDO) and

the US Army conducted reviews. It was eventually concluded

that THAD could likely violate the ABM Treaty. This was a serious issue because if THAD had a compliance problem, there

were probably many to follow as improved technology increased

capability. Given the US experience with theater ballistic missiles

during Desert Storm, there was a need to negotiate room for

TMD in the ABM Treaty. Within the US government this evolved

into an internal debate concerning broad versus narrow interpretations of the treaty. The Air Force views on many issues were

not adopted, and it was soundly defeated on the issue of spacebased interceptors, despite the strong intervention of

USSPACECOM. However, the Air Staff was successful in arguing

that many issues, such as the role of space sensors, definition

and use of “other physical principles,” and the ABL were simply

too complex to address with the Russians at this time. Although

signed in 1997, the agreement on demarcation has not been ratified. The great irony is that in successfully driving such a hard

line for a narrow interpretation of the treaty, the Clinton

Administration may have inadvertently sown the seeds of the

treaty’s demise at the hands of the succeeding Bush

Administration. Time will tell. The other interesting note is that

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the United States resolved all three of the specific program issues

that ignited the original debate internally before the foreign negotiations were completed.

Treaty on Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces

The Treaty on Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF),

responsible for the removal of an entire class of nuclear

weapons, provided an example of unintended consequences

resulting from treaties of indefinite duration. Were unmanned

combat aerial vehicles (UCAV) airplanes or cruise missiles?

The Air Force position was that they were airplanes; however,

the treaty language provided no specific definition other than

range parameters, which were in fact, descriptive of the

UCAVs’ capabilities.

This was a newly recognized shortcoming of the treaty

because the technology enabling development of the UCAVs

did not exist when the treaty was drafted. It was an important

issue to the Air Force because if considered cruise missiles,

the INF Treaty prohibited UCAVs. This was an internal US

issue; however, it was not decided that UCAVs were aircraft

until 2001.

Treaty on Conventional Armed Forces in Europe

The Treaty on Conventional Armed Forces in Europe (CFE)

entered into force in 1992; however, it was formally

revised/adapted in 1999 to address Russian exemptions from

the agreements and the new European realities, which

included the former Warsaw Pact nations of Poland, Hungary,

and the Czech Republic joining NATO. The Air Force unsuccessfully opposed a US proposal to include long-range transport aircraft as treaty-limited equipment, but the Russians

declined to accept the proposal.

The Air Force, with the support of the United States

European Command (USEUCOM), was successful in defeating

US efforts to include fighter aircraft and attack helicopters in

territorial ceilings. The Air Force argued that their inclusion

would create a reporting requirement nightmare with no practical impact given the speed of the aircraft, and the CINC

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shared Air Staff concerns regarding loss of operational flexibility.

Despite a four-year delay and relaxed requirements, the

Russians are still not treaty compliant and the agreement has

not been presented to the US Senate for ratification.

Open Skies

Open Skies was once the air observation portion of the CFE

Treaty, but developed a life of its own. Given other intelligence

resources available and Open Skies censor restrictions, Open

Skies offers little intelligence value to the United States.

The most heated Air Staff issues involved resources. The Air

Staff successfully defeated a proposal that would have forced

it to buy new aircraft by arguing that the existing capability

was sufficient to meet joint trial flight requirements and sufficient time existed to increase capability prior to treaty entry

into force, if needed. There has been some effort by the

Defense Threat Reduction Agency to establish direct operational control over the US Open Skies aircraft, but this was

also defeated. Open Skies has yet to enter into force, but this

may happen before the end of 2001. 

Ottawa Convention on Anti-Personnel Land Mines

The Ottawa Convention on Anti-Personnel Land Mines (APL)

raised issues of primary interest to the US Army. The Air Force

supported the Army position opposing the United States signing the agreement because the loss of area denial munitions

would create an increased demand for direct air support from

the Air Force. It was also evident that a number of countries

that had signed the treaty were violating it with impunity.

Obviously, it offered no increased US security and the

United States did not become a party to the treaty. The Clinton

Administration did however establish a goal of signing the

treaty by 2006 if alternatives to APL become available.

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PART V

Conclusion

Chapter 9

The USAF and Strategic Arms Control

Gwendolyn M. Hall

From the dawn of the nuclear age until the present time, it

should be no surprise that arms control (the process and the

substance) evolved as the global environment changed, and as

the US-Soviet/Russia relationship progressed from adversarial to more cooperative. There were no serious arms-control

initiatives by US administrations until the United States faced

a peer competitor in the Soviet Union.

Throughout the history of strategic arms control there are several noticeable trends and realities that provide guidance as to

the role arms control will and can play in the future. These armscontrol realities relate to both the process of negotiating agreements and to the substantive terms of those agreements. For the

United States Air Force, its involvement in US strategic armscontrol initiatives followed a rather predictable path given the

political nature of the arms-control process. The military in general, and the USAF in particular, were able to exercise influence

when they felt compelled to do so and when they were organized

to make it happen.

The Process

The first characteristic of the arms-control process in the

United States is that it was and still is primarily a civiliandominated exercise in the political sector with the military

playing a reactive, though sometimes influential, role. By contrast, in the Soviet Union/Russia the military is an active and

formidable participant, whose role is made more prominent

because the Soviets do not have a civilian arms-control agency

to take on an active/leadership role (this was most likely

intentional). This author is not convinced the Soviets suffered

significantly from this in the Cold War years in terms of getting much of what they wanted.

251
As Wheeler notes in his examination of arms control in the

early years, there were opportunities for military involvement

but mostly to voice support for positions already negotiated by

the political leadership. Though the military was not excluded

in the early years, its involvement was diminished because of

secrecy surrounding the atomic bomb. Being in a reactive

mode would last for the military and for the Air Force until

organizational structures were in place allowing the Air Force

to be more proactive. Larsen is probably correct that there has

been a lack of interest in the Air Force in the details of armscontrol negotiations, but a willingness to voice its concern

about or support for certain outcomes.

Whether serving to stymie progress in arms-control negotiations or allowing for a certain decisiveness leading to success, another noticeable characteristic is the continuity of

many of the political actors through much of US strategic

arms-control history. For the most part, the military was not

poised to provide the same continuity within its ranks (though

as Waller notes, there was some continuity during the Reagan

years). Having some of the same political actors involved in the

process from agreement to agreement across presidential

administrations accentuates the importance of individual

actors and their own beliefs about the objectives of arms control. It also influences the outcome because of the actors’

notions about what deterrence and strategic stability require.

For the Department of Defense and for the Air Force,

bureaucratic perspectives prevailed after the early years. For

the military, it wasn’t until later that a service perspective prevailed (i.e., what is good for the service). In the early years

there was a certain consistency between the Air Force and

those in the political arena about the likely success of arms

control. The Air Force was involved and supported US political

arms-control initiatives. Kaplan’s chapter demonstrates how

the Air Force perspective was the perspective of its chiefs of

staff and the leaders of Strategic Air Command. Their personal

experiences, like those in the political arena, influenced their

opinions about arms control.

In the 1950s and early 1960s, when civilian and military

perspectives diverged, and the Air Force did not support the

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Kennedy and Johnson arms-control positions, Kaplan shows

how the Air Force was not organizationally situated to examine, devise, and subsequently present a service perspective,

thus, its input was ad hoc and not influential. At the beginning of the SALT era, when Air Force weapons were not really

at issue, the Air Force wasn’t engaged. Larsen concludes the

Air Force wasn’t interested enough to be engaged. SALT II

changed this, with the Air Force becoming more involved, but

the Air Force position resulted from a centralized process that

reflected individual inputs from a few. It wasn’t until the late

1970s that the Air Force staff reorganized to expand the number of members dealing with arms-control-related issues.

What Larsen writes in his piece on the SALT era holds true

today—the organizational structure within DOD serves to

“mute” individual service inputs and promote a joint perspective. The Air Force would need to be motivated and creative to

address this organizational challenge.

The third noticeable characteristic of strategic arms control,

whether necessitated by the political process or by the technological advancement of the strategic arsenal, is the evolutionary nature of arms control. It has been a systematic

engagement with subsequent agreements building on previous

ones, sometimes correcting certain shortcomings in previous

agreements. Campbell reviews how SALT I, that negotiated

inequalities in strategic offensive weapons, required (some

would say mandated) certain outcomes for SALT II to reverse

that inequality. Dusch demonstrates how START focused on

SALT’s shortcomings and a desire to reverse SALT’s adverse

consequences for stability and security.

The START negotiations are the model of modern-day Air

Force involvement in formal arms control, and it is an indicator of what is required for the Air Force to succeed when it

comes to articulating its views on weapons systems in its portfolio. According to Waller’s account, the Air Staff, SAC, and the

Joint Staff worked over a period of eight years to get bomber

discount rules that wouldn’t threaten the future of the bomber

force. This kind of sustained involvement produced substantive results.

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The Substance

These characteristics of the strategic arms-control process—

civilian dominated, though military influenced and supported;

continuity over time of many of the political actors involved in

the negotiation process; and the evolutionary nature of agreements—have resulted in and contributed to certain trends in

arms control and in the strategic weapons they are designed to

address.

One is struck by how since WWI there has been a clear

intent to satisfy at least one of the classic objectives of arms

control not just because they are desirable goals, but also to

gain military and political support at home and allied support

abroad. It has been a challenge at times because these objectives (preventing war, limiting damage should war occur, and

reducing the costs preparing for war) can conflict when devising a national security strategy, and when negotiating limits

and reductions in nuclear arms.

In general, one can conclude that the overall substantive

themes one sees in arms-control agreements are either those

that are ambitious in nature with broad objectives (mostly in

the early years), to more narrowly defined outcomes pointed at

certain weapons systems (though the negotiation exercise

might have been linked to other political behavior), to pessimism about arms-control’s benefits and concern that initiatives today can be a straightjacket to US national security

goals in the future. The desire for arms control at the beginning of the atomic age was first motivated by the weapon’s

destructiveness. The Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) showed support for the need for arms control because the military recognized that others would acquire similar weapons and possibly

use them against the United States. Put another way, the

United States should negotiate from a position of strength, a

theme that would resonate throughout the Cold War. Even

during the early years, there were concerns about treaty compliance, and this issue would be an ever present element during negotiations throughout the Cold War period, sometimes

limiting what weapons and weapons characteristics could be

“controlled.” Kaplan reviews how the Air Force position was

one that insisted on verification as a necessary part of arms

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control because of distrust of Soviet motivations and fear that

they would cheat. This was a constant military and civilian

position throughout the history of strategic arms control leading to intrusive on-site inspections as the expectation instead

of relying on verification by national technical means. 

Since the 1950s the Air Force focus has been on technological capability and superiority, and thus it had concern about

any attempts to limit technological and qualitative advancement in more than just offensive weapons systems (e.g.,

reconnaissance satellites, space vehicles). Air Force war plans

called for a quantitative edge as well. So, any arms-control initiatives that put limits on an Air Force advantage were met

with opposition. It is clear that for the Air Force the essence of

arms control starting in the 1950s—reductions and/or limits—

were contrary to what it saw as necessary for performing its

national security role. Though many thought early on that

deterrence was the best response should arms control fail, the

Air Force leadership was more concerned about having the

forces necessary should deterrence fail. While the United

States had superiority, there was no motivation to limit or even

dilute that superiority (e.g., the Air Force opposition to the

1963 Limited Test Ban Treaty).

The mid-1950s saw the evolution and maturation of deterrence as a concept in the strategic arena—the evolution of various deterrence strategies designed to deter the Soviet threat

and minimize the costs of doing so (e.g., minimum and graduated deterrence, and countervalue targeting). The Air Force

did not support these approaches because it felt they were not

credible responses to the Soviet threat and could have unintended consequences. Minimum deterrence, for example, would

require an increase in costly conventional forces as a counterweight to a smaller nuclear force structure.

In an environment of US-Soviet parity in the 1970s, arms control became a device to control the strategic arsenal, keep the

other side from advancing, and for enhancing stability. Campbell

and Larsen review this vigorous era of arms control. 

Campbell’s chapter covers how during the SALT era armscontrol’s goals were broadened. Not only was it a vehicle to

stop Soviet advancement and reduce defense expenditures, it

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was hoped it could be used to increase stability by reducing

military competition elsewhere. While it became a political tool

in the 1970s to address certain fiscal realities (i.e., the need to

reduce defense spending) there were other political benefits

from an era of détente. This linkage between arms control and

broader issues during the Nixon administration was inevitable

though not supported by subsequent administrations. This

gave arms control additional responsibility over and above its

classic objectives.

The SALT years, the ambitious era of arms control that

included using arms control to engage the Soviets on broader

international security issues, resulted in a clash not only

between the DOD and State Department, but within DOD

itself, between the military and a strong secretary of defense

(McNamara). Dusch shows how DOD and state diverged in

opinion, and how civil-military tensions within DOD during

the McNamara years limited the Air Force’s ability to influence

the strategic debate. Given all this, when the debate centered

on particular weapons systems, the OSD and JCS had influence on relevant positions that affected the outcome (e.g.,

insisting on the requirement for on-site inspections for a MIRV

flight test ban the military didn’t want knowing it wouldn’t be

accepted by the Soviets). 

One could argue that arms control becomes very difficult

when linked to broader political goals. But even when negotiations focus on weapon systems the task has been difficult,

with agreements taking years to finalize and the outcomes

sometimes considered ineffective, if not dangerous. One reason for this was the constant disagreement between the

United States and the Soviets as to which weapons contribute

to or detract from strategic stability. Added to this is the military’s insistence that it not be prevented or limited in being

able to fight and prevail in a conflict should deterrence fail.

Because the USAF had an obvious interest in the systems

under contention in SALT II (mainly due to its concerns about

ICBM vulnerability), it is not surprising that it established an

office to deal with arms-control issues. In addition to this action,

Larsen notes how the Air Force used the political process to

make its views known (e.g., meetings with members of Congress,

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the State Department, the Arms Control and Disarmament

Agency, etc.). Waller says the Air Force used the lengthy armscontrol negotiation process to consolidate its position and gather

inputs from its subordinate units. This proactive approach was

needed if the Air Force’s organizational interests were to be considered (and some of these positions were inconsistent with

those held by some in the administration).

Waller is right; the Air Force sees things like security, stability, and predictability in strictly military terms while the

political arena sees these things achieved through a variety of

political and military actions culminating in these desirable

goals. When it was proactive, organized to provide a substantive input, and used the political process to its advantage, the

Air Force usually got what it needed. 

This is a lesson that among others should be noted by Air

Force leadership, especially since, as the Miller chapter reminds

us, over 40 treaties and agreements have direct implication for

the Air Force. Given the current focus on dramatic strategic

arms reductions of systems “owned” by the Air Force, the leadership will need to be organized, proactive, and savvy enough

to influence how many are reduced and how fast. The Air

Force has not supported the dramatic post–Cold War reductions proposals, and Miller shows how its opposition continues to reflect the military’s views since the dawn of the atomic

age—avoiding operational constraints and opposing proposals

that limit the use of future technology.

It is unclear whether and how internal DOD organizational

changes might dilute the Air Force’s ability to influence strategic

arms control. The Larsen chapter covers how DOD’s organizational structure serves to “mute” individual service inputs by

promoting a joint perspective. Goldwater-Nichols is responsible

for this organizational change and the consequences resulting

from it. On the other hand, as Miller notes, even the Joint Staff

needs Air Force input and its support. Another significant organizational development is the dissolution of SAC and the obvious

questions relate to what this means in terms of Air Force influence on arms control, and on the ability to maintain a pipeline

of development of USAF arms-control expertise.

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All of the authors note the primacy of SAC in the DOD armscontrol arena. Miller talks about how SAC’s leaders were influential in the process and how SAC provided many of the armscontrol staff officers who would be engaged in the process.

SAC “owned” the strategic nuclear bombers and land-based

ICBMs (the two legs of the triad belonging to the Air Force),

and it “owned” the officers involved in negotiating their limits

and reduction. When SAC was dissolved, the bombers went to

Air Combat Command and the ICBMs went to Space

Command. On the other hand, the Air Force’s Pentagon-based

arms controllers are still in place organizationally (AF/XONP)

and members of that organization appear to be proactive and

creative in developing and promoting Air Force interests.

Lessons Learned

There are a few inevitable realities about the future of

strategic arms control in general, and a few lessons learned for

the Air Force to consider. For the most part, the future of

strategic arms control will be a reflection of the international

environment, its challenges and threats. Strategic arms control is still a bilateral exercise between the United States and

Russia, but it no longer holds center stage: the relationship

has mellowed and it is no longer adversarial; the weapons still

concern the United States, but other weapons of mass

destruction concern many states. And these are getting the

same attention now as nuclear weapons have in the past.

The new weapons of concern are chemical and biological,

and the likely employers may not be states. Thus, the shift for

arms control will be multilateral initiatives aimed at weapons

of mass destruction in general. This also suggests the continued focus on strategic and theater defenses as a means to satisfy one of the classic objectives of arms control—reducing the

damage should war (attack) occur. Without knowing any

details of how and whether the Air Force influenced this new

direction towards defenses, it got what it must want—no limit

on its ability to develop new and better technologies, and no

limits on its ability to prevail should deterrence fail.

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• LESSON 1. The general trend at the end of the 1990s was

one in which the Air Force was organized to engage in the

arms-control area. This is positive because the history of

strategic arms control is one that showed the Air Force is

generally successful when it is proactive and engaged.

Developing and maintaining a cadre of Air Force expertise

in arms control cannot be overstated. The continuity of

political actors helped, and the expertise of military participants helped when it was available. Having some historical perspective increases the likelihood of success.

• LESSON 2. Having influence and being organized to maximize it (for the Air Force) is important because history

also shows that the political community needs it and will

reward service support perhaps in the form of weapons

systems funding to compensate for some capability lost at

the negotiating table (as it did in getting strategic modernization and the B-1 in the early 1970s).

• LESSON 3. An arms-control outcome the Air Force (and

military) worried about throughout the Cold War and the

current administration worries about now (and has dealt

with it head on) is the fact that earlier arms-control agreements can bind you when they prevent you from taking

advantage of new technologies, or prevent you from

addressing current and future security challenges. This is

an obvious reference to the ABM Treaty (which the Bush

Administration has decided to walk away from) and the

need to make progress in national and theater defenses

technologies.

• LESSON 4. The previous lesson increases the likelihood

that unilateral actions will continue. This started with the

first Bush Administration’s decisions on tactical nuclear

systems in Europe, and continues with the current Bush

Administration’s initiatives. With no formal agreements to

bind you, you can make adjustments in your arsenal

when the environment dictates change. Also, there aren’t

any states involved that might later see dramatic changes

in their political systems that could complicate things. In

general, unilateral actions are quick, can be exactly what

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you want to do (not a watered-down, negotiated outcome),

and they are reversible.

• LESSON 5. These realities, along with the nature of arms

control being one that is evolutionary, not revolutionary

(except for perhaps the revolutionary INF Treaty that

resulted in the elimination of a class of nuclear weapons)

means that bilateral arms control will have limits in what

it will achieve in the immediate future (yet another justification for unilateral actions). Even the current dramatic

nuclear-weapons proposals have provisions for reductions over a long period of time, with weapons being

“stored,” not destroyed.

• LESSON 6. Successful arms control ultimately depends

on more than just the brilliance and logic of one’s negotiation proposal—sometimes prodding by the public based

on a desire to alter spending priorities matters. Also, the

men sitting in the White House or Kremlin, along with

their staffs’ ideological views, can set the tone for success

or failure. There are a number of explanations for the end

of the Cold War, among which are the tough Reagan armscontrol positions based on a strategy of negotiating from

a position of strength, along with insistence on tough verification measures. But clearly, Reagan’s success with

getting the Soviets back to the negotiating table, and his

influence on “ending” the Cold War were due to the centrality of SDI, and the Soviet economic crisis, and the new

Soviet political leadership in the form of Mikhail

Gorbachev. All of the planets were in alignment.

• LESSON 7. Graham Allison’s Bureaucratic Politics model

describes the strategic arms-control process in the United

States, within both the civilian and military arenas, as it

focuses on the pulling and hauling within these sectors and

between them. The differences between DOD and state,

within the administration, and between the administration

and the DOD (and the Air Force) are the result of “fundamental disagreement among reasonable men about how to

solve” problems.1 Graham also notes that “different groups

pulling in different directions produce a result, or better a

resultant—a mixture of conflicting preferences and unequal

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power of various individuals—distinct from what any person

or group intended.2 As Dusch notes, one’s negotiating strategy begins at home where the various constituencies hash

out a set of proposals based on the president’s guidelines. In

strategic arms control, the Air Force is one of those constituencies. And finally, “To explain why a particular formal

governmental decision was made, or why a pattern of governmental behavior emerged, it is necessary to identify the

games and players, to display the coalitions, bargains, and

compromises, and to convey some feel for the confusion.”3

This book on the Air Force and strategic arms control does

just that. Arms control has come a long way from “how much

is enough” during the Cold War to “how low can we go” in the

post–Cold War era (i.e., strategic sufficiency, which was not

supported by CINCSTRAT). There was some serious discussion during the Reagan years about eliminating all ballistic

missiles (see Larsen’s review of the Weinberger proposal in

preparation for the Reykjavik summit). These discussions

don’t come close to the debate generated by retired Gen Lee

Butler (former CINCSAC), who proposed in 1996 the total

elimination of nuclear weapons. General Butler was supported

by many retired and well-known flag-ranked officers in the

United States and in Russia. Total elimination of nuclear

weapons could be considered the ultimate goal of arms control

for some.

The debate this generated rejuvenated arms control in the

post–Cold War period if only to introduce new formations of

arms-control-type actions such as “de-alerting” and “virtual

arsenals.” Not surprisingly, the military does not support

numbers below those in START II, and it opposes these creative conceptualizations of how to base one’s strategic nuclear

forces. This leads to the final lesson.

• LESSON 8. Strategic nuclear arsenals, once they start

declining as the means of control, will continue to decline

to minimum levels deemed safe by the military. It is hard

to imagine strategic nuclear forces increasing. There is

reason to believe that technological development will continue so that smaller forces are more capable to meet

emerging and evolving threats. Whether or not formal

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arms-control measures are used, traditional elements of

the process and concerns about the substance of those

limits, reductions, and controls will remain.

Notes

1. Graham T. Allison, Essence of Decision (Boston: Little, Brown and Co.,

1971), 145. 

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

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Contributors

Lt Col Anne G. Campbell is associate professor of political

science and chief of the American Politics and Policy Division

at the Air Force Academy. She has previously completed INSS

research on “Countering the Proliferation of Weapons of Mass

Destruction and Advanced Delivery Systems in Latin

America,” and research for the Defense Intelligence Agency on

the illicit production of narcotics in Peru. Colonel Campbell is

a graduate of the Air Force Academy, and she holds a MBA in

international business from Bentley College, a MALD in international relations from the Fletcher School of Law and

Diplomacy at Tufts University, and a PhD in political science

from the University of Colorado.

Maj Charles D. Dusch Jr. is an assistant professor of military

strategic studies and director of the Cadet Aerospace Strategy

and Instruction School at the Air Force Academy. He is a former Titan II ICBM missile crew commander and is an F-15E

weapon systems officer. He is editor of Aerospace Combat

Operations (2001) and has published articles in USAFA’s

Airman Scholar. Major Dusch holds a BA in history from West

Virginia University and a MS in operations research from the

University of Arkansas.

Lt Col Gwendolyn M. Hall is professor of political science and

commander, dean of the Faculty Squadron Section at the Air

Force Academy. She is a member of the executive board of the

International Studies Association, past chair of its International

Security Studies Section, and a member of the executive board

of Women in International Security. She is coauthor of a series

of publications: Tactical Nuclear Weapons: Debunking the

Mythology (2002); “Triad 2025: The Evolution of a New Strategic

Force Posture” in Nuclear Deterrence and Defense: Strategic

Considerations, ed. James M. Smith (2001); “US Counterproliferation Strategy for a New Century” in Searching for

National Security in an NBC World, ed. James M. Smith (2000);

and A Post Cold-War Nuclear Strategy Model (1998). Colonel Hall

263
holds a Master of Public Policy and a PhD in policy studies from

the University of Maryland at College Park.

Capt Edward Kaplan is an instructor of history at the Air

Force Academy. He is an intelligence officer who has served

with U-2 and SR-71 aircrews at Beale Air Force Base as a

watch officer, as flight commander at the Misawa Cryptologic

Operations Center, and in a number of deployed functions

including most recently field intelligence support for COMSFOR

in Bosnia. Captain Kaplan is a graduate of the Air Force

Academy, and he holds a MA in military and diplomatic history from the University of Calgary.

Col Kurt J. Klingenberger is vice air base wing commander,

Lajes Air Base, Azores, Portugal. He previously served as chief

of the Air Staff’s National Security Policy Division, Nuclear and

Counterproliferation Directorate. His publications include

Controlling Non-Strategic Nuclear Weapons: Obstacles and

Opportunities, eds. Jeffrey A. Larsen and Kurt J. Klingenberger

(2001). He is a graduate of the Air Force Academy and holds a

MA from the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced

International Studies.

Dr. Jeffrey A. Larsen, the founding director of the USAF

Institute for National Security Studies, is a senior policy analyst

in the Strategies Group at Science Applications International

Corporation (SAIC). He served as senior editor for the official Air

Force history of the 1999 air war over Serbia, and is currently

senior editor for the ongoing Task Force Enduring Look. His publications include coauthor (with James M. Smith) of The

Historical Dictionary of Arms Control and Disarmament (forthcoming); editor, Arms Control: Cooperative Security in a Changing

Environment (2002); editor (with James M. Wirtz) of Rockets’ Red

Glare: Missile Defenses and the Future of World Politics (2001);

editor (with Kurt J. Klingenberger) of Controlling Non-Strategic

Nuclear Weapons: Obstacles and Opportunities (2001); editor

(with Thomas D. Miller) of Arms Control in the Asia-Pacific Region

(1999); and editor (with Gregory J. Rattray) of Arms Control:

Toward the 21st Century (1996). Dr. Larsen is a graduate of the

264
Air Force Academy and a retired USAF officer. He holds a masters degree in national security affairs from the Naval

Postgraduate School and both masters and PhD degrees from

Princeton University.

Mr. Thomas D. Miller is a senior policy analyst in the Strategies

Group at Science Applications International Corporation (SAIC).

He retired from active USAF duty as chief, National Security

Policy Division at HQ USAF (XONP) where he was responsible for

the development of Air Force policy on US arms-control negotiations, treaty implementation, and compliance issues. His other

military positions included planner to the Joint Chiefs of Staff

and National Security Council, chief of the Air Force Theater

Planning Support Division, chief of the Strategic Air Command

Policy and Doctrine Division, and United Nations military

observer in Palestine. He has lectured on strategic topics at

Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, the Wilton Park UK

conference series, the Defense Threat Reduction Agency

International Conference on Controlling Arms, the National

Defense University, and the Air War College. He is editor (with

Jeffrey A. Larsen) of Arms Control in the Asia-Pacific Region

(1999). Mr. Miller is a graduate of Florida State University, and

he holds a Master of Arts degree from Central Michigan

University.

Maj Thomas S. Mowle is assistant professor of political science

at the Air Force Academy where he chairs the Western

European Area Studies Group. He is also a fellow with the

European Union Center at the University of Oklahoma. He is

author of The United States and the European Union: Allies at

Odds? (forthcoming). Major Mowle holds both BA (government) and BS (electrical and computer engineering) degrees

from the University of Notre Dame, a MA in international

affairs from the University of Dayton, and a PhD in political

science from the Ohio State University.

Dr. James M. Smith is director, USAF Institute for National

Security Studies (INSS) and professor, military strategic studies at the USAF Academy. Relevant to this publication, he is

265
coauthor (with Jeffrey A. Larsen) of The Historical Dictionary of

Arms Control and Disarmament (forthcoming); author of “NonStrategic Nuclear Weapons and Arms Control: Implications for

the US Air Force” in Controlling Non-Strategic Nuclear Weapons:

Obstacles and Opportunities, eds. Jeffrey A. Larsen and Kurt

J. Klingenberger (2001); editor of Nuclear Deterrence and

Defense: Strategic Considerations (2001); and editor of

Searching for National Security in an NBC World (2000). Dr.

Smith is a graduate of the Air Force Academy and a retired

USAF officer. He holds a MS from the University of Southern

California and a Doctorate in Public Administration (public

policy) from the University of Alabama.

Mr. Forrest E. Waller Jr. is a senior scientist and corporate officer in the Strategies Group, Science Applications International

Corporation (SAIC). During his Air Force career, he served in fellowships at the White House, the Department of State, and the

Center for Strategic and International Studies. He also served on

the faculty at the Air Force Academy, as the chief of the Western

Hemisphere/Western Europe Branch at HQ Air Force

Intelligence, as senior USSR strategic forces analyst in Air Force

Intelligence, and as senior military advisor for strategic armscontrol policy in the Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense

for International Security Policy. His recent publications include

“Strategic Nuclear Arms Control” in Arms Control: Cooperative

Security in a Changing Environment, ed. Jeffrey A. Larsen (2002);

and “Strategic Offensive Arms Control” in Arms Control: Toward

the 21st Century, eds. Jeffrey A. Larsen and Gregory J. Rattray

(1996). Mr. Waller is a graduate of the Air Force Academy, and he

holds a Master of Public Affairs in international affairs from

Princeton University. He has also attended the National and

International Security Manager’s Program at Harvard.

Dr. Michael O. Wheeler is a senior analyst in the Strategies

Group, Science Applications International Corporation (SAIC).

He recently served as staff director of the Commission on

Maintaining US Nuclear Weapons Expertise (the Chiles

Commission). During his Air Force career, he served as special

assistant to the chief of staff, US Air Force; special assistant

266
to a commissioner of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission;

special assistant to the deputy secretary of state (White House

Fellow); special assistant to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs

of Staff; staff secretary, National Security Council; chief,

Nuclear Negotiations Division, Joint Staff (J-5); and armscontrol advisor to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and

Air Force member of the Chairman’s Staff Group. His recent

publications include “A History of Arms Control” in Arms

Control: Cooperative Security in a Changing Environment, ed.

Jeffrey A. Larsen (2002); “Analytical Case Study on USRussian Nuclear Arms Control” in An Assessment of

Preventive Threat Reduction (2001); and Contributions of

Nuclear Weapons to American Security During the Cold War

(1999). Dr. Wheeler is a graduate of the Air Force Academy,

and he holds an MA in political science from Georgetown

University and a PhD in philosophy from the University of

Arizona.

267

Bibliographic Essay

Jeffrey A. Larsen

Arms control is a field rich with material but not much has

been written specifically about the United States Air Force and

its relationship with arms-control issues. One has to look

closely in books and articles on arms control for nuggets of

information on the Air Force. The ability to read between the

lines is exceptionally important. Alternatively, one must conduct original primary research, and it is not easy finding either

the right people to interview or the right staff papers to read.

The most recent period, in particular (since the START treaties

were signed in the early 1990s), is problematic precisely

because of its recency—there simply has not been time for

serious analysis or writing about arms control in this period,

and much of the source material remains classified. Nor is the

level of public interest over arms control as high as it once

was. With the end of the Cold War and a new relationship

between the United States and Russia, people simply don’t

think about strategic issues in the same way. This has also

effected the volume of material in recent years. Finally, many

of the archives and files on more recent arms-control issues in

which the Air Force took an interest were put at risk by the

attack on the Pentagon on 11 September 2001, when the

offices of the National Security Policy Division (AF/XONP),

where these files were stored, suffered significant damage.

Nevertheless, we can suggest a number of recommended

works on arms control. For complete texts of all treaties ratified before 1991, as well as some analysis of the negotiating

history, see Josef Goldblat, Arms Control: A Guide to

Negotiations and Agreements (London: Sage Publications,

1994). A superb source for general information, analytical

essays, and treaty highlights is the three-volume set by

Richard Dean Burns, ed., Encyclopedia of Arms Control and

Disarmament (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1993).

Updated references can be found in Jeffrey A. Larsen and

Gregory J. Ratttray, eds., Arms Control Toward the 21st

Century (Boulder, Colo.: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 1996), and

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a forthcoming edition from the same publisher, also edited by

Jeffrey A. Larsen, Arms Control: Cooperative Security in a

Changing Environment (2002). An annual publication that provides excellent up-to-date material is SIPRI Yearbook

(Stockholm International Research Institute, published by

Oxford University Press and also found at www.sipri.org). The

Institute for Defense and Disarmament Studies, Cambridge,

Mass., publishes monthly editions of The Arms Control

Reporter; archived editions can be found on their web site at

www.idds.org. The best monthly journals that follow armscontrol topics and related issues are Arms Control Today, published by the Arms Control Association, Washington, D.C.,

also found at www.armscontrol.org; The Bulletin of the Atomic

Scientists, published by the Educational Foundation for

Nuclear Science, Chicago, and found at www.thebulletin.org;

and the irregular but frequent Documents on Disarmament

series put out by the US State Department (which, along with

treaty summaries, can be found at www.state.gov). Other good

databases for basic treaty and arms-control negotiations information are found at the web sites of the Federation of

American Scientists (www.fas.org), Physicians for Social

Responsibility (www.psr.org), the University of Illinois program

in Arms Control, Disarmament, and International Security

(www.acdis.uiuc.edu), and the Center for International

Security and Cooperation at Stanford University (www.cisac.

stanford.edu). A forthcoming publication that will provide indepth background and reference material on this subject is

being written by two of this book’s authors: Jeffrey A. Larsen

and James M. Smith, Historical Dictionary of Arms Control and

Disarmament (Lanham, Md.: Scarecrow Press, 2002).

Specific information on the role of the US Air Force in armscontrol deliberations and negotiations, as well as compliance

issues, is hard to find. Some can be gleaned from the

Secretary of Defense’s Annual Report to the President and the

Congress (Washington, D.C.: US Government Printing Office);

some can be found in the sections on arms control in

American Defense Annual, edited from 1985–1993 by Joseph

Kruzel and in 1994 by Charles Hermann (Cambridge, Mass.:

Lexington Books); and in the US Arms Control and

270
Disarmament Agency’s regular publication Arms Control and

Disarmament Agreements (Washington, D.C.: US Government

Printing Office, latest edition 1996), although whether the

State Department will continue to publish this valuable reference guide now that ACDA has been dissolved is yet to be

seen. Good sources of current topics are the published papers

of the annual International Arms Control Conference held at

Sandia National Laboratories, Albuquerque, N.Mex. (since

1991) and the findings of the annual International Conference

on Controlling Arms hosted by the Defense Nuclear Agency

(which became the Defense Special Weapons Agency, which

then became the Defense Threat Reduction Agency) from

1992–2000. 

The remainder of this bibliographic essay will provide some

key works in each of the four historical periods addressed in

this book: the early post–World War Two era, the SALT era of

the 1970s, the Reagan era of the 1980s, and the START era of

the 1990s and beyond. Within each section we have attempted

to find and list some of the best sources used by the authors

of those chapters. 

The Early Post–World War Era

The period 1945–68 could be called the “pre-arms-control”

period, as the United States and the Soviet Union aggressively

sought strategic superiority in terms of numbers of weapons

and delivery vehicles. The concept of containment led the push

for advanced military capabilities, rather than a serious effort

towards cooperative security, arms control, or disarmament.

To be sure, there had been a considerable body of literature

prior to the nuclear age devoted to questions of the legality of

aerial bombardment, the role and purpose of airpower, and

the like. But not until the early 1960s was the theory of arms

control writ large properly developed. A number of books came

out in 1961, however, that set the stage and laid the foundation for all the arms-control successes of the following

decades.

The US Air Force in this era was concerned with achieving

superiority using the manned bomber and the intercontinental ballistic missile. Both of these were controlled by Strategic

271
Air Command, the preeminent organizational element within

the Air Force. As arms-control measures began being considered toward the end of this period, the concept of national

technical means of verification arose. This, too, fell under

SAC’s control, as satellites and high-altitude manned spy

planes began looking at the USSR and its proxies. But neither

SAC nor the corporate Air Force had any desire to get involved

in arms control, nor did they see any advantage to be accrued

from doing so. A telling point about the Air Force’s view of

arms control during this period—or the lack thereof—can be

seen by omission: in the 665 pages of Ideas, Concepts,

Doctrine, Volume I: Basic Thinking in the United States Air Force

1907–1960, by Robert Frank Futrell (Maxwell AFB, Ala.: Air

University Press, 1989), there is not one single mention of the

words arms control or disarmament.

What arms control that did occur took place in multilateral

forums, primarily the United Nations, and led to vague agreements couched in disarmament terms. None of these directly

affected the Air Force; none of these was affected in any way

by inputs from the Air Force.

Suggested Reading

Air Force Manual (AFMAN) 1-8. Air Doctrine: Strategic Air

Operations. 1 May 1954.

Bechhoefer, Bernhard. Postwar Negotiations for Arms Control.

Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1961.

Bernstein, Barton J. “The Quest for Security: American

Foreign Policy and International Control of Atomic

Energy, 1942–1946.” The Journal of American History,

March 1974, 1003–44. 

Biddle, Tami Davis. “Air Power.” Chapter 9. In Michael

Howard, George J. Andreopoulos, and Mark R. Schulman,

eds., The Laws of War: Constraints on Warfare in the

Western World. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press,

1994.

Bowie, Robert P., and Richard H. Immerman. Waging Peace:

How Eisenhower Shaped an Enduring Cold War Strategy.

Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1998.

272
Bundy, McGeorge. Danger and Survival: Choices About the

Bomb in the First Fifty Years. New York: Random House,

1988. Especially see chapter 4.

Carnesale, Albert, and Richard Haas. Superpower Arms

Control: Setting the Record Straight. Cambridge, Mass.:

Ballinger, 1987.

Crum, Norman. Arms Control Guide: An Annotated

Bibliography. Santa Barbara, Calif.: Tempo, 1963.

Dean, Arthur H. Test Ban and Disarmament: The Path of

Negotiation. New York: Harper & Row, 1966.

DeWeerd, H.A. Disarmament Failure and Weapons Limitations.

Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND Corporation, 1956.

———. United States Policies on Disarmament 1946–1955 — A

Critique. Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND Corporation, 1956.

Disarmament: A Bibliographic Record. Washington, D.C.: Army

Library, 1960.

Emme, Eugene. Thought on Air Power as a Political Weapon.

Maxwell AFB, Ala.: Air University Press, 1953.

———. Foreign Relations of the United States. Washington,

D.C.: U.S. State Department, 1968.

Freedman, Lawrence. The Evolution of Nuclear Strategy. 2d ed.

New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989.

Frye, Alton. Space Arms Control: Trends, Concepts, Prospects.

Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND Corporation, 1964.

Gaddis, John Lewis. Strategies of Containment: A Critical

Appraisal of Postwar American National Security Policy.

New York: Oxford University Press, 1982.

Gaddis, John Lewis, et al. Cold War Statesmen Confront the

Bomb: Nuclear Diplomacy since 1945. Oxford, UK: Oxford

University Press, 1999.

Kaplan, Fred. The Wizards of Armageddon. Stanford, Calif.:

Stanford University Press, 1983.

Kunsman, David, and Douglas Lawson. A Primer on U.S.

Nuclear Strategy. Albuquerque, N.Mex.: Sandia National

Laboratories, 2001.

LeMay, Curtis. America Is In Danger. New York: Funk and

Wagnalls, 1968.

273
Nalty, Bernard. Winged Shield, Winged Sword: A History of the

United States Air Force. Washington, D.C.: Air Force

History and Museum Program, 1997.

Peacock, Lindsay. Strategic Air Command. London: Arms and

Armour Press, 1988.

Posvar, Wesley. “The Process of Long-Range Planning.”

Presentation to RAND Corporation. College Park, Md.:

National Archives and Records Administration, Record

Group 341.

Singer, J. David. Deterrence, Arms Control, and Disarmament.

New York: Lanham, 1984.

Smoke, Richard. National Security and the Nuclear Dilemma.

3d ed. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1993.

Senate Committee on Foreign Relations. Test Ban Negotiations

and Disarmament. 11 March 1963.

Watt, Donald Cameron. “Restraints on War in the Air Before

1945.” Chapter 4 in Restraints on War: Studies in the

Limitation of Armed Conflict. Edited by Michael Howard.

Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1979.

Wheeler, Michael. “The Air Force and Arms Control: The Past

Fifty Years.” Paper written by Science Applications

International Corporation for the Air Force National

Security Policy Division, Washington, D.C.

Worden, Mike. Rise of the Fighter Generals: The Problem of Air

Force Leadership, 1945–1982. Maxwell AFB, Ala.: Air

University Press, 1998.

York, Herbert. Making Weapons, Talking Peace. Santa Monica,

Calif.: RAND Corporation, 1961.

Suggested Readings on Basic Arms-Control Theory 

Averch, Harvey. Strategic Ambiguity, Asymmetry and Arms

Control: Some Basic Considerations. Santa Monica, Calif.:

RAND Corporation, 1963.

Bull, Hedley. The Control of the Arms Race: Disarmament and

Arms Control in the Missile Age. New York: Frederick A.

Praeger, Publishers, 1961.

Schelling, Thomas, and Morton Halperin. Strategy and Arms

Control. New York: Twentieth Century Fund, 1961.

274
The SALT Era

The period 1969–80 was a golden era for arms control.

During this period the United States and the Soviet Union

entered a phase of their relationship known as détente, a

relaxation of relations whereby both sides began taking tentative steps away from the nuclear brink that had epitomized

their relationship for the previous 15 years. Part of this change

involved direct bilateral negotiations between the superpowers

that proved quite successful. During the 1970s barely any

years passed without at least one, and usually several, new

arms-control treaties or agreements between the two. In part

this reflected unilateral political decisions on both sides to further the arms-control agenda despite conservative arguments

to the contrary.

The Air Force was caught off guard by the new centrality of

arms control in interagency negotiations and decision making.

It had been so busy building up its forces that it entered this

vibrant period without any bureaucratic apparatus in place to

deal with arms-control issues. As a result, the Air Force did

not play a major role in the early agreements (such as the ABM

Treaty and Interim Agreement of SALT I). But by the latter part

of the period, it had created a small and tightly controlled

advisory group within the Air Staff to provide the chief of staff

with inputs as he developed the Air Force’s official position on

negotiations. 

There is scant direct evidence in print about how the Air

Force went about creating this network. Between the closehold nature of the business and the fact that this was but one

policy development aspect of a major government agency,

there has been very little written about the inner workings of

the Air Force. Again, one must read the books on the era carefully to glean Air Force-specific items from the prose. Some of

the best material comes from stories about the strategic procurement programs of the era, and the effect on those programs generated by distant arms-control negotiations that

seemed to be permanently in the background, but which were

becoming increasingly annoying—like the droning sound of a

distant cloud of mosquitoes that was slowly drawing ever

275
closer. Other anecdotal evidence can be found in the memoirs

and autobiographies written by participants in the era.

Suggested Reading 

Arms Control and the Arms Race: Readings from Scientific

American. New York: W. H. Freeman and Company, 1985.

Arms Control Today, Air Force Magazine, and Bulletin of the

Atomic Scientists. Articles from the 1970s.

Brzezinski, Zbiegniew. Power and Principle. New York: Farrar,

Straus, Giroux, 1983.

Foundation for the Future: The ABM Treaty and National

Security. Washington, D.C.: The Arms Control

Association, 1990.

Garthoff, Raymond. Détente and Confrontation: AmericanSoviet Relations from Nixon to Reagan. Washington, D.C.:

Brookings Institution, 1994.

———. Policy versus the Law: The Reinterpretation of the ABM

Treaty. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1987.

Halperin, Morton. Bureaucratic Politics and Foreign Policy.

Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 1974.

Hampson, Fen. Unguided Missiles: How America Buys Its

Weapons. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1989.

Kissinger, Henry. The White House Years. New York: Little,

Brown and Company, 1979.

Kotz, Nick. Wild Blue Yonder: Money, Politics, and the B-1

Bomber. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1988.

Lorell, Mark, and Hugh Levaux. “The 1960s and 1970s:

Acquisition Reform, Doctrinal Ferment.” Chapter 4. In

The Cutting Edge: A Half Century of U.S. Fighter Aircraft

R&D. Santa Monica, Calif.: RAND Corporation, 1998.

Newhouse, John. Cold Dawn: The Story of SALT. New York:

Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1973.

Nixon, Richard M. The Real War. New York: Warner Books,

1980.

Rowney, Edward L. It Takes One to Tango. London: Brassey’s,

1992.

Smith, Gerard. Doubletalk: The Story of SALT I. New York:

Harper & Row, 1985.

276
Smith, Gerard C. Disarming Diplomat: The Memoirs of Gerard

C. Smith, Arms Control Negotiator. Lanham, Md.: Madison

Books, 1996.

Talbott, Strobe. Endgame: The Inside Story of SALT II. New

York: Harper & Row, 1979.

Wolfe, Thomas W. The SALT Experience. Cambridge, Mass.:

Ballinger Publishing Company, 1979.

The Reagan Era

From 1981 to 1988 the United States and the USSR

expanded their strategic systems and capabilities through a

series of innovations, and moved the confrontation into new

realms (such as outer space and information operations). This

was the era of the Reagan defense buildup, and strategic

forces (both offensive and, after 1983, defensive) were a major

winner in the budgetary largesse of this presidency. After a

rocky start, during which time it appeared as though arms

control might have been cast aside in the interest of military

power, both sides were back at the negotiating table by the

middle of the decade. This renewed vitality, enhanced perhaps

by the realization during the early 1980s that neither side

could win a nuclear war, led to a second period of pronounced

success in arms control. This period included agreements on

a myriad of issues, from theater and strategic weapons to

chemical and conventional forces. It carried over into the early

1990s, its momentum uneffected by the end of the Soviet

Union, the dissolution of the Warsaw Pact, and the final stages

of the Cold War.

The US Air Force during this period had achieved a central

role in the bureaucratic political maneuvering of the interagency process when it came to arms control. True, most of the

central strategic weapons systems were controlled by the Air

Force, but its influence extended beyond simple management

of those systems. 

As researchers seeking insight into the Air Force and arms

control we run into the same problem in this era as in the previous one: lack of direct sources to verify what went on behind

the scenes during the arms-control negotiations of the START

277
period. There have been several key works written about the

Reagan years, but much of that literature deals with NATO,

Europe, Euromissiles, and the Strategic Defense Initiative

rather than strategic arms control. This was a transition

period between the SALT successes and the START deals still

to come. 

Suggested Readings

Congressional Record from the period.

Kartchner, Kerry M. Negotiating START: Strategic Arms

Reduction Talks and the Quest for Strategic Stability. New

Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Publishers, 1992.

Shultz, George P. Turmoil and Triumph: My Years as Secretary

of State. New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1993.

Skinner, Kiron, Annelise Anderson, and Martin Anderson.

Reagan: In His Own Hand. New York: Free Press, 2001.

Spanier, John. American Foreign Policy Since World War II.

Washington, D.C.: Congressional Quarterly Press, 1992.

Talbott, Strobe. Deadly Gambits: The Reagan Administration

and the Stalemate in Nuclear Arms Control. New York:

Alfred A. Knopf, 1984.

———. Master of the Game: Paul Nitze and the Nuclear Peace.

New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1988.

Thompson, W. Scott, et al. National Security in the1980s: From

Weakness to Strength. San Francisco, Calif.: Institute for

Contemporary Studies, 1980.

START and the Transition to the Future

Our final period begins with 1989 and continues through

today. It was an era that witnessed the culmination of the

negotiations and understandings reached between the superpowers toward the end of the Reagan administration, reflecting a renewed sense of common destiny between the superpowers, as well as the rise to power of one key individual in the

Soviet Union: Mikhail Gorbachev. Gorbachev’s term of office

witnessed (indeed, in many ways predicated) the end of the

Soviet state, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the dissolution of the

Warsaw Pact, and the Western victory in the Cold War.

278
Throughout the early years of this period, as the world tried to

sort out the strange and exhilarating news, the United States

and the USSR, then Russia, continued to negotiate new armscontrol deals, to ratify old treaties that had lain on the sideboard for many years, and to set up organizational constructs

to help bring the world peacefully and uneventfully into the

new era. 

By later in the decade, the bloom was off the arms-control

rose. The George W. Bush Administration came to power in

2001 with unilateralist tendencies and a decided dislike for

arms control of any stripe, and it began overturning many of

the fundamental agreements of past years. At the same time,

however, the United States made valid points that the world

had outlived the usefulness of treaties made in a different era,

that some of these treaties had, in fact, outlasted the problems

they were created to solve in the first place. Therefore, it was

argued, perhaps the international strategic setting could be

better served through unilateral force-level decisions and less

formal agreements than in the past. 

For the United States Air Force, this period was truly one of

transition. In the early 1990s, the Air Force had a large and

robust organizational commitment to arms-control negotiations and implementation, and it foresaw years of work bringing all the new treaties to fruition. Yet by the end of the

decade, many of these agreements and the sometimes burdensome implementation and compliance requirements

seemed old-fashioned if not outright unnecessary. The Air

Force was attempting to make the transition to a nonnuclear,

strategic conventional force with global reach, and arms-control

restraints on its less important strategic arsenal seemed less

and less relevant.

The literature for this period is, by nature of its recency,

scanty when it comes to illuminating internal Air Force decision making. The sources listed below deal primarily with

national strategic-level issues, rather than bureaucratic ones.

This reflects the continuing theme we have seen in each of

these periods: that the Air Force has been constantly caught

in the tug and haul of strategic and policy alternatives and has

never been in complete control of its own destiny. This has

279
certainly been true for the Air Force’s strategic weapons, and

may ultimately extend to its force in space, information operations, and possibly the strategic conventional realm, as well. 

Suggested Reading 

Bothe, Michael, Natalino Ronzitti, and Allan Rosas, eds. The

New Chemical Weapons Convention–Implementation and

Prospects. The Hague: Kluwer Law International, 1988.

Brown, James, ed. Arms Control in a Multi-polar World.

Amsterdam: VU University Press, 1996.

Dando, Malcolm, Graham S. Pearson, and Tibor Tóth, eds.

Verification of the Biological and Toxin Weapons

Convention. Dordrecht, Netherlands: Kluwer Academic

Publishers, 2000.

Drell, Sidney D., Abraham D. Sofaer, and George D. Wilson,

eds. The New Terror: Facing the Threat of Biological and

Chemical Weapons. Stanford: Hoover Institution Press,

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Milestones in Strategic Arms Control, 1945–2000

United States Air Force Roles and Outcomes

Air University Press Team

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