The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers (97 page)

Yet the policy itself is not without its problems—as some French commentators are beginning openly to admit
¹¹¹
—and must cause the historically minded to recall the gap which existed between the theory and the reality of France’s defense policy prior to 1914 and 1939. In the first place, there is a great deal of truth in the cold observation that all of France’s posturings of independence have taken place behind the American shield and guarantee to western Europe, both conventional and nuclear. A Gaullist policy of assertiveness was only possible, Raymond Aron pointed out, because for the first time in this century France was not in the front line.
¹¹²
But what if that security disappears? That is, what if the American nuclear deterrent is admitted to be non-credible? What if the United States, over time, steadily pulls back its troops, tanks, and aircraft from Europe? Under certain circumstances, both of those eventualities might be seen as welcome. Yet, as the French themselves admit, they can hardly appear so in the light of Moscow’s recent policies: steadily building up its own nuclear
and
European-based conventional forces to excessive levels, keeping a tight hold upon its eastern European satellites, and launching “peace offensives” designed perhaps particularly to wean the West German public
out of the NATO alliance and into neutralism. Many of the signs of what has been termed France’s “New Atlanticism”
¹¹³
—a stiff er tone toward the Soviet Union, criticism of neutralist tendencies among the German Social Democrats, the Franco-German agreement for the forward deployment in Germany (possibly with tactical nuclear weapons) of the Force d’Action Rapide, the closer links with NATO
¹¹⁴
—are obvious consequences of French concern about the future. Until Moscow changes, Paris is bound to worry that the USSR might move
into
western Europe when (or even before) the United States has moved
out
.

But if that threat became more likely, what could France do about it in
practical
terms? Naturally, it could increase its conventional forces still further, moving toward the creation of an enhanced Franco-German army strong enough to hold off a Russian assault even if U.S. forces were diminished (or even absent). In the view of people like Helmut Schmidt,
¹¹⁵
this is the logical extension not only of the Paris-Bonn
entente
but also of international trends (e.g., the weakening of American capacities). There are all sorts of political and organizational difficulties in the way of such a scheme—ranging from the possible attitude of a future left-of-center German administration, to questions of command, language and deployment, to the touchy issue of French tactical nuclear weapons
¹¹⁶
—but in any event such a strategy is likely to founder upon one insuperable reef: lack of money. France is currently spending about 4.2 percent of its GNP upon defense (compared with the United States’ 7.4 percent and Britain’s 5.5 percent), but given the delicate state of the French economy, that percentage cannot be increased by very much. Moreover, France’s independence in atomic-weapons development means that its nuclear strategic forces absorb up to 30 percent of the defense budget, far more than elsewhere. What is left is not enough for the AMX battle tank, advanced aircraft, the new nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, “smart” battlefield weapons, and so on. While certain increases in the French armed forces may be likely, that could not possibly satisfy all requirements.
¹¹⁷
Just as in Britain’s case, therefore, the French are being faced with the awkward choice of either eliminating some weapon systems (and roles) entirely or forcing economies upon all of them.

Equally worrying are the doubts being raised about France’s nuclear deterrent, both at the technical and the (related) strategical level. Parts of the triad of French nuclear weaponry—the land-based missiles, and especially the aircraft—suffer from deterioration over time and even their costly upgrading and modernization may not keep pace with newer weapons technology.
¹¹⁸
This problem may become particularly acute if significant breakthroughs occur in American Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) technology, and if the Russians in their turn develop a much larger system of ballistic-missile defense. Nothing is more disturbing, from the French viewpoint, than the two superpowers
enhancing their potential invulnerability while Europe remains exposed. As against this, there is the significant buildup of the French submarine-launched ballistic-missile system (discussed below, p. 506). However, the general principle remains: advanced technology could render useless existing types of weaponry, and certainly will make the cost of any replacements much more expensive. In any case, the French are caught in the same trap of credibility as all of the other nuclear Powers. If Paris thinks it increasingly unlikely that the United States would risk a strategic nuclear exchange with the USSR because the German frontier had been invaded, how likely is its own promise to “go nuclear” on behalf of the Federal Republic? (The West Germans hardly believe it.) Even the Gaullist tradition of defending the “sanctuary” of France by firing off all its missiles at Russia hangs upon the unproven assumption that the French people prefer obliteration to a possible (or likely) defeat by conventional means. “Tearing an arm off the Russian bear” has always sounded like a good phrase, until it is remembered that one will certainly be devoured by the bear; and that Russia’s own antimissile defenses may limit the damage it will suffer. Obviously, the official posture of French nuclear strategy is not going to be altered soon, if at all. But it is worth wondering how realistic it is, should the East-West balance worsen and the United States weaken.
¹¹⁹

France’s problem, then, is that so many demands are pressing upon its own modest national resources. Given demographic and structural-economic trends, the high share of national income consumed by social security is likely to continue, and probably increase. Large funds may soon be needed for the agricultural sector. At the same time, the modernization of the armed forces requires substantial amounts of money. Yet all of these have to be balanced against—and take away from—the pressing need for vastly enlarged investment in R&D and in advanced industrial processes. If it cannot allocate the monies necessary for the last-named purpose, it will over time put into jeopardy the prospects of affording defense, social security, and all the rest. Obviously this dilemma is not France’s alone, although it is the French above all who have argued for a distinctively “European” position on international economic and defense issues—and who therefore most clearly articulate European concerns. For this reason, too, it is Paris which has usually taken the lead in initiating new policies—deepening Franco-German military ties, producing European Airbuses and satellites, and so on. Many of these schemes have met with skepticism among France’s neighbors at this Gallic fondness for bureaucratic planning and prestige endeavors, or with the suspicion that French companies are likely to be awarded the lion’s share of Euro-funded projects. Other schemes, however, have already proved their worth or seem to hold a rich promise.

Europe’s “problems” are, of course, more than those considered here: they include aging populations and aging industries, ethnic discontents in the inner cities, the gap between the prosperous north and the poorer south, the political/linguistic tensions in Belgium, Ulster, and northern Spain. Pessimistic observers also occasionally allude to the possibility of a “Finlandization” of certain European states (Denmark, West Germany), which would then become dependent upon Moscow. Since that development could only follow from a leftward political shift in the countries concerned, it is difficult to estimate its likelihood. As it is, if one considers Europe—as represented chiefly by the EEC—as a
power-political
unit in the global system, the most important issues it faces are clearly those discussed above: how to evolve a common defense policy for the coming century which will be viable even in what may be an era of significant change in the international power balances; and how to remain competitive against the very formidable economic challenges posed by new technology and new commercial competitors. In the case of the other four regions and societies examined in this chapter, it is possible to suggest what changes are likely to occur over time in their present position: that Japan and China will probably see their status in the world enhanced, and that the USSR and even the United States will see theirs eroded. But Europe remains an enigma. If the European Community can really act together, it may well improve its position in the world, both militarily and economically. If it does not—which, given human nature, is the more plausible outcome—its relative decline seems destined to continue.

The word “contradiction” in Marxist terminology is a very specific one, and refers to the tensions which (it is argued) inherently exist within the capitalist system of production and will inevitably cause its demise.
¹²⁰
It may therefore seem deliberately ironic to employ the same expression to describe the position in which the Soviet Union, the world’s first Communist state, now finds itself. Nevertheless, as will be described below, in a number of absolutely critical areas there seems to be opening up an ever-widening gap between the aims of the Soviet state and the methods employed to reach them. It proclaims the need for enhanced agricultural and industrial output, yet hobbles that possibility by collectivization and by heavy-handed planning. It asserts the overriding importance of world peace, yet its own massive arms buildup and its link with “revolutionary” states (together with its revolutionary heritage) serve to increase international tensions. It claims to require absolute security along its extensive borders, yet its hitherto unyielding policy toward its neighbors’ own security concerns worsens
Moscow’s relations—with western and eastern Europe, with Middle East peoples, with China and Japan—and in turn makes the Russians feel “encircled” and
less
secure. Its philosophy asserts the ongoing dialectical process of change in world affairs, driven by technology and new means of production, and inevitably causing all sorts of political and social transformations; and yet its own autocratic and bureaucratic habits, the privileges which cushion the party elites, the restrictions upon the free interchange of knowledge, and the lack of a personal-incentive system make it horribly ill-equipped to handle the explosive but subtle high-tech future which is already emerging in Japan and California. Above all, while its party leaders frequently insist that the USSR will never again accept a position of military inferiority, and even more frequently urge the nation to increase production, it has clearly found it difficult to reconcile those two aims; and, in particular, to check a Russian tradition of devoting too high a share of national resources to the armed forces—with deleterious consequences for its ability to compete with other societies commercially. Perhaps there are other ways of labeling all these problems, but it does not seem inappropriate to term them “contradictions.”

Given the emphasis in Marxian philosophy upon the
material
basis of existence, it may seem doubly ironic that the chief difficulties facing the USSR today are located in its economic substructure; and yet the evidence gleaned by western experts—not to mention the increasingly open acknowledgments by the Soviet leadership itself—leave no doubt that that is so. It would be interesting to know how Khrushchev, who in the 1950s confidently forecast that the USSR would overtake the United States economically and “bury” capitalism, would have felt about Mr. Gorbachev’s 1986 admissions to the 27th Communist Party Congress:

To which it might be remarked that the final statement could have been made by
any
government in the world, and that the mere recognition of economic problems is no guarantee that they will be solved.

The most critical area of weakness in the economy during the entire history of the Soviet Union has been agriculture, which is the more amazing when it is recalled that a century ago Russia was one of the two largest grain exporters in the world. Yet since the early 1970s it has needed to import tens of millions of tons of wheat and corn each year. If world food-production trends continue, Russia (and certain other socialist economies of eastern Europe) will share with parts of Africa and the Near East the dubious distinction of being the only countries which have changed from being net food
exporters
to
importers
on a large-scale and sustained way over recent years.
¹²²
In Russia’s case, this embarrassing stagnation in agricultural output has not been for want of attention or effort; since Stalin’s death, every Soviet leader has pressed for increases in food production, in order to meet consumer demand and to fulfill the promised rises in the Russian standard of living. It would be wrong to assume that such rises have not occurred—clearly, the average Russian is much better off now than in 1953, when his situation was desperate. But what is much more depressing is that after some decades of drawing closer to the West, his standard of living is falling behind again—despite all the resources which the state commits toward agriculture, which swallows up nearly 30 percent of total investment (cf. 5 percent in the United States) and employs over 20 percent of the labor force (cf. 3 percent in the United States). Merely in order to maintain standards of living, the USSR is compelled to invest approximately $78 billion in agriculture each year,
and
to subsidize food prices by a further $50 billion—despite which it seems “to be moving further and further away from being the exporter it once was”
¹²³
and instead needs to pour out further billions of hard currency to import grain and meats to make up its own shortfalls in agricultural output.