The
Centrality of the Bomb
by Gar
Alperovitz and Kai Bird
Foreign
Policy (Spring 1994) No. 94: 3 -20.
Page
5 of 5
U.S. Overreaction?
What of
"the Cold War" per se - the larger, overarching dynamic? Recall
that the issue is not whether the usual tensions between great
powers would or would not have existed. The issue is whether
the relationship would have had to explode into the extremely
militarized form it took.
Recently
declassified archival materials from both sides should destroy
the traditional assumption that the Soviet army at the end
of World War II offensively threatened Western Europe. In
1945, roughly half the Soviet army's transport was horse-drawn,
and it would remain so until 1950.
Moreover,
Soviet troops demobilized massively and dramatically in the
early postwar period. Soviet documents suggest that Stalin's
army shrank from 11,365,000 in May 1945 to 2,874,000 in June
1947.
While
there is debate about how widely such information was known
or heeded by top U.S. officials, a number of scholars have
recently cited evidence suggesting that U.S. policymakers
fully understood that the Soviet Union had neither the intention
nor the capability to launch a ground invasion of Western
Europe. In December 1945, for instance, the State Department
circulated an intelligence estimate concluding that for at
least five years "the United States need not be acutely concerned
about the current intentions of the Soviet Union and has considerable
latitude in determining policy toward the USSR." A Joint Chiefs
of Staff report at the end of 1948 estimated the Soviets might
be able to marshal only some 800,000 troops for an attack
force. Two years later, the CIA used the same figure in its
intelligence estimate. Similarly, documents recapped in Frank
Kofsky's recent Harry S. Truman and the War Scare of 1948
provide devastating proof that American military intelligence
estimates consistently concluded that the Soviets could not
and did not want to wage war. One illustration is a high-level
briefing given directly to Truman in late 1948:
"The
Russians have dismantled hundreds of miles of railroads in
Germany and sent the rails and ties back to Russia. There
remains, at the present time ... only a single track railroad
running Eastward out of the Berlin area and upon which the
Russians must largely depend for their logistical support."
This same
railroad fine changes from a standard gage going Eastward,
to a Russian wide gage in Poland, which further complicates
the problem of moving supplies and equipment forward.
George
Kennan, for one, "never believed that they the Soviets have
seen it as in their interests to overrun Western Europe militarily,
or that they would have launched an attack on that region
generally even if the so-called nuclear deterrent had not
existed."
Credible
documentation has also emerged from the Russian archives that
Stalin repeatedly rejected North Korean leader Kim Il-Sung's
requests for support of an invasion of South Korea. As one
scholar, Kathryn Weathersby, has explained in a recent working
paper, Stalin reluctantly "approved the plan only after having
been assured that the United States would not intervene."
Even then he apparently did so because Kim Il-Sung would otherwise
have pursued the war anyway with support from the communist
Chinese. As Weathersby concludes, "it was Soviet weakness
that drove Stalin to support the attack on South Korea, not
the unrestrained expansionism imagined by the authors of NSC-68."
Moreover,
Bruce Cumings's sweeping, two-volume history, The Origins
of the Korean War, demonstrates that the U.S. command in South
Korea knew at the time that South Korean irregular army units
had been provoking the North Koreans for months. A once clear-cut
case of communist aggression is now seen by most knowledgeable
historians as a complicated civil war that dated back at least
to 1945.
The
Russian archives also show that often neither Stalin nor his
successors could control the regimes in Eastern Europe, Cuba,
China, North Korea, or North Vietnam. "It's a big myth that
Moscow directed a unified monolith of socialist states," argues
Deborah Kaple of Columbia University's Harriman Institute.
Newly uncovered documents, for instance, make it clear that
the Sino-soviet split existed almost from the day Mao Tse-tung
seized power. And other recent archival discoveries suggest
that East Germany's Walter Ulbricht largely initiated the
Berlin crisis of 1958-1961, forcing a reluctant Khrushchev
to engage in brinkmanship diplomacy.
All
of these events suggest a broadly defensive post-world War
II Soviet foreign policy that on occasion accommodated American
security interests.
The monolithic
enemy of Cold War fame, many now agree, existed mainly in
the imaginations of America's ardent anticommunist cold warriors.
At the very least, these events suggest Stalin appeared willing
to cut a deal with Washington in the critical early postwar
years.
This
analysis does not suggest that the American-Soviet relationships
could have been a tranquil sea of cooperation. But the unusual
and dangerous over-militarization of foreign policy during
the Cold War demands an explanation on its own terms - and
the atomic bomb is the first item in that lexicon.
This
essay has not attempted to untangle the many factors that
led to the end of the Cold War. One related issue, however,
may be noted: The advent of nuclear weapons (and the U.S.
nuclear monopoly in particular) upset the balance of power
in general and especially in Europe, where from the Soviet
point of view the critical issue was Germany. However, once
the Soviet Union had its own nuclear weapons and a credible
way to deliver them - and Germany had no such weapons - then
the implicit balance of power in general and in Europe, too,
was essentially restored, albeit at a higher level.
Before
that time the Soviets kept Germany relatively weak by occupation,
reparations, and tight control of the invasion routes. After
the Soviet Union had secured nuclear weapons (and once the
implications were digested and fought out by policy elites),
Soviet policy could relax all three prongs of its earlier
strategy. Old military and foreign policy apparatchiks did
not easily abandon traditional assumptions, as the crackdown
in Czechoslovakia in 1968 suggests. The preconditions for
ending the Cold War, however, were established only after
the basic power relationship between the Soviet Union and
the United States was rebalanced.
Might
history have taken a different course? Many high-level Western
policymakers believed an accommodation with the Soviet Union
was a reasonable possibility in the early postwar years. The
United States was also in a position to encourage Soviet cooperation
with the lure of desperately needed long-term economic aid.
Indeed, had the United States lacked a nuclear weapons monopoly
- and given the rapid pace of U.S.
demobilization
and Congress's rejection of universal military training -
such an approach might well have been the only acceptable
option from the U.S. point of view.
All
of this, of course, is "counter-factual" history. As the late
philosopher Morris Cohen observed in 1942, however, "we cannot
grasp the full significance of what happened unless we have
some idea of what the situation would have been otherwise."
But in a sense all history is implicidy counter-factual -
including, above all, the counter-factual orthodox theory
that had the United States not taken a tough stand after World
War II, there would have been no "long peace" and disaster
would inevitably have befallen the Continent, the world, and
the United States.
In
A Preponderance of Power, Melvyn Leffler concludes
that because of its enormous strength the United States must
also bear a preponderance of responsibility for the Cold War.
That important judgment, like Stimson's rejected 1945 plea
for an immediate, direct, and private effort to cut short
what became the nuclear era, brings into focus the question
of just how wise were the "wise men" who crafted America's
Cold War policies at the moment when the two great tracks
of twentieth-century scientific and global political development
converged. At the very least, they failed to find a way to
avoid one of history's most costly and dangerous - indeed,
literally world-threatening - struggles.
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