Executive Summary: This report documents and analyzes the operational, tactical, and materiel evolution of the Norwegian Army’s special operations unit, Forsvarets Spesialkommando (FSK). It traces the unit’s lineage from its philosophical origins in World War II commando operations through its formal establishment as a domestic counter-terrorism (CT) asset during the Cold War, to its transformation into a globally recognized, combat-proven, full-spectrum Tier 1 special operations force. The key drivers of this evolution were the initial threat to Norway’s offshore energy infrastructure, the subsequent operational demands of post-Cold War deployments in the Balkans, and, most significantly, two decades of continuous combat and military assistance missions in Afghanistan. Today, FSK stands as a core component of the Norwegian Special Operations Command (NORSOCOM) and a critical asset for both national security and NATO’s collective defense, particularly in the strategically vital High North.
1.0 Genesis: Forging a Specialized Capability (1940–1982)
The formation of Forsvarets Spesialkommando in 1982 was not a singular event but rather the convergence of three distinct historical and strategic streams: the philosophical legacy of World War II unconventional warfare, the institutional development of elite ranger units within the post-war Norwegian Army, and the emergence of a new, specific geopolitical threat in the 1970s.
1.1 The Legacy of Kompani Linge: The WWII SOE Roots
The doctrinal foundation of all modern Norwegian special operations forces can be traced directly to the Second World War. During the German occupation of Norway, Norwegian volunteers served in the Norwegian Independent Company 1 (NOR.I.C.1), more famously known as Kompani Linge.1 Operating under the command of the British Special Operations Executive (SOE), these commandos demonstrated the profound strategic impact that small, highly trained, and motivated units could achieve through unconventional means.1
The most celebrated of these missions was Operation Gunnerside in 1943, the successful sabotage of the German heavy water production facility at Rjukan, which was critical to the Nazi atomic bomb program.1 This and other sabotage, reconnaissance, and resistance operations validated the core tenets of special operations: precision, strategic effect disproportionate to the size of the force, and the ability to operate deep within hostile territory.2 Despite this proven effectiveness, these specialized units were disbanded after the war. The concept of unconventional warfare was not formally re-evaluated until the 1950s, which led first to the establishment of a maritime special operations capability—the precursor to today’s Marinejegerkommandoen (MJK)—modeled on US Navy special forces.2
1.2 Post-War Realignment and the Rise of the Jegers
While the maritime component developed, the direct institutional lineage of FSK began to form within the Norwegian Army. In 1962, the Army established its parachute school, Hærens Fallskjermjegerskole.4 In 1972, this institution was renamed Hærens Jegerskole (HJS), or the Army Ranger School, reflecting a shift in focus toward Long-Range Reconnaissance Patrols (LRRP).6 The term Jeger, meaning “hunter,” became synonymous with elite light infantry and reconnaissance soldiers in the Norwegian military.
Throughout the Cold War, the main purpose of HJS was to train ranger platoons for intelligence gathering and reconnaissance deep behind enemy lines in the event of a Soviet invasion.7 This mission, central to NATO’s defense strategy for its Northern Flank, cultivated a pool of exceptionally fit, resilient, and skilled soldiers proficient in parachuting, survival, and small-unit tactics in Norway’s challenging arctic and mountain terrain.8 This school provided the institutional framework, selection criteria, and core skillsets from which FSK would later draw its founding members.
1.3 A New Threat, A New Unit: The 1979 Decision and 1982 Formation of FSK
The final catalyst for FSK’s creation was the emergence of a new, asymmetric threat in the 1970s. The rise of international terrorism, exemplified by events like the Munich Olympics massacre, combined with the discovery and development of vast oil and gas fields in the North Sea, presented the Norwegian government with a critical strategic vulnerability.7 These offshore platforms were high-value national assets, difficult to secure with conventional forces, and prime targets for terrorist attacks or hostage situations.13
Recognizing that neither the conventional military nor the police possessed the specialized capabilities for this complex maritime counter-terrorism (MCT) mission, the Norwegian government decided in 1979 to establish a dedicated armed forces CT unit.2 In 1982, this decision was formalized with the establishment of Forsvarets Spesialkommando (FSK) as an operational command within the structure of the Army Ranger School (Hærens Jegerskole).2 FSK was thus born from the imperative to apply the ranger skillset to the modern problem of counter-terrorism.
2.0 The Cold War Guardian: Doctrine and Development (1982–1999)
During its formative years, FSK developed as a doctrinal hybrid, balancing its primary, publicly mandated counter-terrorism role with a clandestine wartime mission. This duality was reflected in its tactics, training, and initial armament, which was heavily influenced by the standard equipment of the broader Norwegian Army.
2.1 Mission Profile: A Dual-Hatted Force
FSK’s primary and most visible mission was national counter-terrorism and hostage rescue.12 A particular emphasis was placed on protecting Norway’s offshore oil and gas installations, a mission that required advanced maritime interdiction and close-quarters combat (CQC) skills.7 In this capacity, the unit was a strategic asset to be used in support of the Norwegian Police in the most serious incidents.12
Concurrently, FSK maintained a wartime mission aligned with its Jeger roots and Norway’s role in NATO. In the event of a conflict with the Warsaw Pact, FSK would be tasked with conducting special operations behind enemy lines. These tasks would include special reconnaissance to gather intelligence on enemy movements, direct action against high-value strategic targets, and supporting other NATO forces operating on the Northern Flank.7
2.2 Armament and Tactics: The Battle Rifle Era
The unit’s initial armament reflected its position within the Norwegian Army’s logistical chain. The standard-issue rifle was the Automatgevær 3 (AG-3), a domestically produced licensed variant of the German Heckler & Koch G3 battle rifle chambered in the powerful 7.62x51mm NATO cartridge.15 FSK operators likely used both the standard fixed-stock version and the AG-3F1, which featured a collapsible stock better suited for operations in the confined spaces of vehicles or oil platforms.15 For a sidearm, FSK would have been issued the Glock 17, which the Norwegian Armed Forces adopted in 1985 under the designation P80.17
This choice of a full-power battle rifle for a unit with a primary CT mission was a significant doctrinal compromise. While the AG-3 was an excellent weapon for combat in the open, rugged terrain of Norway, it was far from ideal for hostage rescue scenarios. Compared to the H&K MP5 submachine guns and 5.56mm carbines used by peer units like the British SAS and German GSG 9, the AG-3 was heavier, longer, harder to control in automatic fire, and posed a significant risk of over-penetration in CQC environments. This indicates that FSK was initially equipped as an elite ranger unit with a CT mission added on, rather than a purpose-built CT unit from its inception. Its tactical doctrine was similarly split, combining LRRP and unconventional warfare skills from HJS with specialized CT techniques, for which it received assistance from the British SAS and Special Boat Service (SBS).7
2.3 From Clandestine to Acknowledged: A Gradual Unveiling
For the first decade of its existence, FSK operated in deep secrecy, with the Norwegian government officially denying its existence.7 Its establishment was briefly mentioned in a newspaper in 1983, and it was reportedly put on alert during a hijacking in 1985, though not deployed.7 The veil of secrecy began to lift in the 1990s. The first official acknowledgment of the unit by an armed forces representative occurred in connection with the hijacking of SAS Flight 347 at Gardermoen Airport in September 1993, an event that brought FSK into the public consciousness as a critical component of Norway’s national security apparatus.7
3.0 Trial by Fire: The Post-Cold War Deployments (1999–2021)
The end of the Cold War fundamentally altered the strategic landscape. For FSK, this meant a shift from preparing for a hypothetical invasion to deploying on complex, real-world operations abroad. These deployments, first in the Balkans and then for two decades in Afghanistan, would be the crucible that forged the modern FSK, transforming it from a specialized national asset into a full-spectrum, globally respected special operations force.
3.1 Kosovo (1999): A Proving Ground for Politico-Military Operations
FSK’s first major international test came during the Kosovo conflict in 1999. Operating in close cooperation with the British Special Air Service (SAS), FSK was the first special operations force to enter the capital city of Pristina.2 Their mission was not a conventional combat operation but one of immense political sensitivity: to “level the negotiating field between the belligerent parties” and facilitate the implementation of the peace agreement between Serbian authorities and the Kosovo Albanians.6 This required a sophisticated blend of reconnaissance, liaison, and subtle influence, demonstrating a high degree of operational maturity. The successful execution of this mission alongside the SAS solidified FSK’s reputation and accelerated its integration into the elite tier of NATO SOF.
3.2 Afghanistan (2001–2021): The Defining Conflict
No single experience has shaped FSK more than its 20-year deployment to Afghanistan. This long war can be divided into two distinct phases, each of which drove significant tactical, doctrinal, and organizational evolution.
3.2.1 Phase I – Direct Action Dominance (2001–2005)
In the initial stages of Operation Enduring Freedom, FSK was deployed as a direct action and special reconnaissance force.
Task Force K-Bar: From October 2001 to April 2002, FSK, alongside its naval counterpart MJK, formed a key component of the US-led Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force-South, known as Task Force K-Bar.19 In the harsh terrain and climate of southern Afghanistan, the Norwegian operators’ specialized expertise in mountain and arctic warfare proved invaluable to the entire coalition.19 Their skills in survival and mobility in extreme cold-weather environments directly enhanced the effectiveness of the multinational force.19 For its distinguished contributions, Task Force K-Bar, including its Norwegian contingent, was awarded the US Presidential Unit Citation, the highest honor that can be bestowed upon an allied military unit.2
Operation Anaconda: In March 2002, FSK participated in Operation Anaconda, the first major large-scale battle of the war.21 In the Shah-i-Kot Valley, FSK fought alongside conventional US forces and other SOF against entrenched Al-Qaeda and Taliban fighters.2 This experience tested the unit’s core combat skills under conditions of intense, sustained direct fire, far removed from the surgical nature of CT operations.
Following these initial operations, FSK continued to conduct the full spectrum of SOF tasks across southern Afghanistan, including direct action (DA), special reconnaissance (SR), and calling in precision airstrikes as Forward Air Controllers (FAC).2
3.2.2 Phase II – The Mentoring Mission (2007–2021)
As the war transitioned from a conventional fight to a long-term counter-insurgency, FSK’s role evolved. Beginning in 2007, the unit undertook a critical military assistance mission: training, advising, and mentoring the Afghan National Police’s elite Crisis Response Unit 222 (CRU 222) in Kabul.2 This long-term commitment, which continued under both the ISAF and Resolute Support missions, represented a strategic shift from unilateral operations to building host-nation capacity.2
This mentoring role was not a rear-echelon training job. FSK operators were embedded with CRU 222 during real-world operations, providing tactical advice and combat support during major terrorist attacks in the capital, such as the complex attacks in April 2012 and the assault on a maternity ward in May 2020.7 This required a different set of skills than direct action, emphasizing leadership, cross-cultural communication, and the ability to effectively advise a partner force in the midst of chaos.
3.2.3 Lessons in Blood and Steel: Tactical and Organizational Evolution
The crucible of Afghanistan forced FSK to adapt and innovate. The operational environment made the limitations of their legacy equipment clear. The 7.62mm AG-3 battle rifle, while powerful, was ill-suited for the dynamic, close-to-medium range engagements common in Afghanistan. This experience was a primary driver for the adoption of more modern, modular 5.56x45mm platforms: the Colt Canada C8 SFW and, subsequently, the Heckler & Koch HK416.2
Perhaps the most significant doctrinal innovation to emerge from this period was the creation of the Jegertroppen (Hunter Troop) in 2014.4 FSK operators identified an “operational need” for female soldiers who could engage with the female half of the Afghan population for intelligence gathering and relationship-building—a task that was culturally impossible for male soldiers.12 The establishment of this all-female special reconnaissance and direct action training pipeline was a groundbreaking development in the world of special operations, demonstrating the unit’s ability to adapt its structure to meet mission requirements.
By the end of its deployment, FSK had been transformed. It had entered the conflict as an elite unit with a strong reputation and specialized skills and emerged as a battle-hardened, full-spectrum force, capable of both high-end direct action and complex, long-term military assistance.
4.0 The Modern Force: NORSOCOM and Full-Spectrum Capability (2014–Present)
Building on the lessons of more than a decade of continuous deployments, the Norwegian Armed Forces undertook a major restructuring of its special operations capabilities, creating a unified command and ensuring its forces were equipped with state-of-the-art weaponry.
4.1 A Unified Command: The Establishment of NORSOCOM
On January 1, 2014, the Norwegian Special Operations Command (NORSOCOM), or Forsvarets Spesialstyrker (FS), was officially established.7 This landmark reform placed both the Army’s FSK and the Navy’s MJK under a single, joint two-star command.27 The primary rationale was to improve operational synergy and eliminate the command-and-control inefficiencies that had become apparent during deployments to Afghanistan, where both units often operated in the same theater with similar capabilities but under separate service command chains.4
The modern NORSOCOM structure is a fully integrated joint force. It consists of FSK as the land-centric component, MJK as the maritime component, and the 339 Special Operations Aviation Squadron (339 SOAS), a dedicated helicopter unit providing specialized tactical air mobility for both units.4 This structure provides the Norwegian Chief of Defence with a single, flexible, and highly capable instrument for special operations.
4.2 Contemporary Mission Set and NATO Role
Today, FSK is trained and equipped for the full spectrum of special operations missions. Its primary responsibilities include 7:
National Counter-Terrorism: Serving as the armed forces’ primary crisis response unit, ready to support the Norwegian Police in the most complex terrorist incidents, particularly in the maritime domain.
Direct Action (DA): Conducting short-duration strikes and small-scale offensive actions to seize, destroy, or capture enemy targets.
Special Reconnaissance (SR): Operating deep within hostile or denied areas to gather intelligence of strategic or operational value.
Military Assistance (MA): Training, advising, and assisting foreign security forces, a capability honed extensively in Afghanistan.
Through its proven performance and the unified structure of NORSOCOM, FSK is a highly sought-after partner within the NATO SOF community. The command provides a seamless point of integration with the NATO Special Operations Headquarters (NSHQ), ensuring full interoperability with allied forces.2
4.3 Armament and Technology of the Modern Spesialjeger
FSK’s current small arms inventory reflects a commitment to fielding the most reliable, effective, and modular weapon systems available. The lessons from Afghanistan directly influenced the transition away from legacy platforms to a suite of weapons optimized for modern special operations.
Primary Assault Rifles: The main rifle is the Heckler & Koch HK416, which the Norwegian military adopted in 2007.31 FSK uses several variants, including the standard rifle (HK416N) and carbine (HK416K).17 Its short-stroke gas piston operating system offers superior reliability in harsh environments compared to the direct impingement systems of standard AR-15/M4 platforms, a critical advantage in arctic or desert conditions.32 Alongside the HK416, the Colt Canada C8 SFW/CQB remains in service. Some operators reportedly favor the C8’s heavy barrel profile for its ability to maintain accuracy during sustained fire.25 Both platforms are chambered in 5.56x45mm NATO and feature extensive Picatinny rails for mounting optics, lasers, and other accessories.
Sidearms: The standard issue sidearm is the Glock 17, designated P80 in Norwegian service.17 This reliable 9x19mm Parabellum pistol has been in use since 1985, with current forces using modernized Gen4 versions.17 The Heckler & Koch USP is also listed in the unit’s inventory.2
Submachine Guns: For close-quarters work, the Heckler & Koch MP5 has been largely superseded by the Heckler & Koch MP7.17 Chambered in the high-velocity 4.6x30mm cartridge, the MP7 offers significantly better performance against body armor than traditional 9mm SMGs.7 The legacy MP5 is likely retained for specific roles where its suppressibility and low collateral damage risk are advantageous, such as certain maritime CT scenarios.2
Sniper & Precision Rifles: For long-range engagements, FSK employs a multi-tiered system. The Heckler & Koch HK417, the 7.62x51mm NATO counterpart to the HK416, serves as the Designated Marksman Rifle (DMR).17 For true long-range anti-personnel sniping, the unit fields the Barrett MRAD (Multi-Role Adaptive Design) rifle, chambered in the powerful.338 Lapua Magnum cartridge.2 This modern, modular platform allows for user-level caliber changes and exceptional precision at distances exceeding 1,500 meters.36 For anti-materiel tasks, such as engaging light vehicles or enemy equipment, FSK utilizes the Barrett M82 and the newer M107A1 rifles, chambered in.50 BMG (12.7x99mm NATO).17
Support Weapons: Squad-level fire support is provided by the FN Minimi light machine gun, used in both 5.56mm (Para variant) and 7.62mm (MK3) versions.17 The heavier Browning M2 machine gun is used in vehicle-mounted and static roles.7
Accessories: FSK rifles are typically outfitted with Aimpoint Micro T-2 red dot sights for fast target acquisition, often paired with magnifiers for longer-range shots.40 Variable-power optics like the Elcan SpecterDR are also employed.17 High-performance sound suppressors, such as those from Swiss manufacturer Brügger & Thomet (B&T), are standard issue to reduce the weapon’s signature and improve command and control.15
Table 4.1: Forsvarets Spesialkommando Current Small Arms Inventory
Weapon Type
Designation(s)
Manufacturer
Caliber
Origin
Notes / Role
Assault Rifle
HK416N / HK416K
Heckler & Koch
5.56x45mm NATO
Germany
Standard issue primary weapon. Short-stroke gas piston system enhances reliability. 17
Assault Rifle
C8 SFW / C8 CQB
Colt Canada
5.56x45mm NATO
Canada
In service alongside HK416. Valued for heavy barrel profile and accuracy. 17
Sidearm
P80 (Glock 17)
Glock
9x19mm Parabellum
Austria
Standard issue sidearm since 1985. Modernizing to Gen 4 standard. 17
Submachine Gun
MP7
Heckler & Koch
4.6x30mm
Germany
Primary PDW/SMG, offering superior armor penetration to 9mm. 7
Submachine Gun
MP5
Heckler & Koch
9x19mm Parabellum
Germany
Legacy system, likely retained for specialized suppressed or maritime CT roles. 2
Designated Marksman Rifle
HK417
Heckler & Koch
7.62x51mm NATO
Germany
Squad-level precision rifle for engagements beyond the range of 5.56mm platforms. 7
Used for engaging hard targets (light vehicles, equipment) at extreme ranges. 17
Light Machine Gun
FN Minimi (Para/MK3)
FN Herstal
5.56x45mm / 7.62x51mm
Belgium
Squad automatic weapon and general-purpose machine gun. 7
Heavy Machine Gun
M2 Browning
General Dynamics / FN Herstal
.50 BMG (12.7x99mm)
USA
Vehicle-mounted and static fire support weapon. 7
5.0 The Future Operator: A Speculative Analysis (2025 and Beyond)
As Norway and NATO shift their strategic focus from counter-insurgency in distant theaters to collective defense and peer-level competition, FSK’s role is set to evolve once more. The unit’s future will be defined by a return to its original geographic focus, the need to balance a diverse set of threats, and an even deeper integration into allied defense structures.
5.1 The High North Imperative: Back to the Future
The primary strategic driver for the Norwegian Armed Forces, and by extension FSK, is the security of the High North.43 A resurgent Russia’s military buildup on the Kola Peninsula, combined with the opening of Arctic sea routes and resource competition due to climate change, has returned this region to the forefront of geopolitical competition.45 FSK’s decades of experience operating in arctic and mountain environments, a core competency since its inception, makes it one of NATO’s most vital assets in this theater.2
Paradoxically, the unit’s two decades in the mountains of Afghanistan served as an ideal, if unintended, rehearsal for this mission. The core tactical competencies required to operate effectively in the Hindu Kush—long-range mobility in harsh terrain, small-unit autonomy, logistical austerity, and the ability to conduct precision strikes—are directly transferable to the vast, unforgiving expanses of the Arctic. FSK returns to its original Cold War mission not as a legacy force, but as a combat-proven unit whose skills are uniquely tailored to the demands of modern conflict in the High North.
5.2 Evolving Threats and Capabilities: Balancing the Spectrum of Conflict
The future challenge for FSK and NORSOCOM will be to maintain readiness across the full spectrum of conflict. The unit must prepare for high-intensity warfare against a peer adversary while simultaneously retaining its world-class capabilities in counter-terrorism and crisis response.48 This will necessitate continued investment in advanced technology. Key areas for development will likely include:
Unmanned Systems: Deeper integration of small unmanned aerial systems (UAS) for organic reconnaissance, surveillance, and potentially strike capabilities.
Electronic Warfare: Enhanced signature management (reducing electronic and thermal footprints) and communications systems resilient to enemy jamming and interception.
Cyber Operations: Integration of cyber effects into tactical operations.
The doctrinal balance between direct action and military assistance will remain crucial. While the High North scenario emphasizes direct action and special reconnaissance, the ability to partner with and train allied forces remains a key strategic tool that FSK has mastered.48
5.3 The NATO Spearhead: Leadership and Integration
With the accession of Finland and Sweden to NATO, Nordic defense cooperation has been fundamentally strengthened.43 FSK is positioned to be a leader within this new northern European SOF bloc, fostering deeper integration and interoperability with its Finnish, Swedish, and Danish counterparts. Having proven itself a highly capable and reliable partner in the most demanding combat environments, FSK will likely assume greater leadership responsibilities within the wider NATO SOF community, particularly in developing doctrine and training standards for arctic and peer-level conflict.
6.0 Conclusion
The history of Forsvarets Spesialkommando is a testament to purposeful evolution. Born from the legacy of WWII commandos and forged to meet the specific threat of terrorism against national infrastructure, the unit spent its formative years as a clandestine, dual-purpose force. It was the operational crucible of the post-Cold War era, from the political complexities of the Balkans to the sustained, high-intensity combat of Afghanistan, that transformed FSK into the force it is today.
This journey forced a complete modernization of its equipment, a broadening of its tactical repertoire to include both direct action and military assistance, and organizational innovations like the Jegertroppen. The establishment of NORSOCOM institutionalized these lessons, creating a unified and more effective special operations capability for Norway. Today, FSK stands as a world-class unit, equipped with the finest small arms and technology. It is a force that has proven its mettle at every point on the spectrum of conflict and is now uniquely positioned to face its next great challenge: safeguarding Norwegian sovereignty and anchoring NATO’s collective defense in the strategic High North.
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This report provides a strategic analysis of the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), tracing its four-decade evolution from a reactive solution to a catastrophic military failure into a proactive, globally-deployed, and indispensable tool of U.S. national security policy. It argues that JSOC’s history is a powerful case study in institutional learning, adaptation, and the changing character of modern warfare. The report begins by dissecting the systemic failures of Operation Eagle Claw in 1980, which served as the direct catalyst for JSOC’s creation. It then charts the command’s formative years through early operations in Grenada and Panama, which tested its nascent joint-force concepts. The core of the analysis focuses on JSOC’s profound transformation after September 11, 2001, when it was elevated to the nation’s primary instrument in the Global War on Terrorism. Under the leadership of figures like General Stanley McChrystal, JSOC pioneered a revolutionary model of intelligence-driven, network-centric warfare, exemplified by the successful campaigns against Al-Qaeda in Iraq and the raid that killed Osama bin Laden. Finally, the report assesses the modern command’s unparalleled capabilities, the complex legal and ethical controversies its operations have generated, and its current strategic pivot to address the challenges of great power competition.
Section I: The Crucible of Failure – Operation Eagle Claw and Its Aftermath
The genesis of the Joint Special Operations Command cannot be understood apart from the context of profound institutional failure. JSOC was not the product of proactive strategic foresight but was instead necessitated by the catastrophic and humiliating failure of Operation Eagle Claw, the attempted rescue of American hostages in Iran in April 1980. This event brutally exposed systemic weaknesses within the U.S. military’s structure, doctrine, and capabilities for conducting complex, multi-service special operations. The lessons learned from the sands of Desert One became the foundational principles upon which JSOC was built.
1.1 The Strategic Context: A Hollow Force
In the late 1970s, the United States military was a force grappling with the deep institutional scars of the Vietnam War. The subsequent drawdown in forces and a strategic reorientation toward Europe had significant consequences for its special operations capabilities.1
Post-Vietnam Drawdown: The Pentagon’s primary focus shifted decisively to the prospect of a large-scale conventional war against the Soviet Union on the plains of Europe. In this strategic calculus, Special Operations Forces (SOF), which had been a prominent and innovative component of the war in Southeast Asia, were viewed as a niche capability of diminishing relevance.1 As a result, SOF units were drastically reduced in size, their budgets were slashed, and their unique skill sets were allowed to atrophy. The military services, left to their own devices, prioritized conventional programs, leading to a significant degradation in the nation’s ability to conduct unconventional warfare or complex special missions.1
The Iranian Hostage Crisis: This strategic neglect was laid bare on November 4, 1979, when Iranian militants stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, seizing 66 American personnel (13 were later released).3 The crisis immediately became a national obsession and a paramount challenge for the administration of President Jimmy Carter.3 When months of diplomatic negotiations failed to secure the hostages’ release, President Carter turned to the U.S. military for a viable rescue option.3 The Pentagon was tasked with planning and executing a mission of extraordinary complexity in a region where the U.S. had few bases or resources. It quickly became apparent that no standing, integrated, and well-rehearsed force existed for such a task.3 The military was forced to assemble a rescue package from disparate, service-specific components that had little to no experience operating together.1
1.2 Anatomy of a Disaster: The Failure at Desert One
Operation Eagle Claw, executed on April 24-25, 1980, was a failure at every level: strategic, operational, and tactical. The mission unraveled not because of enemy action, but due to a cascade of internal failures rooted in systemic deficiencies. An analysis of the operation reveals recurring themes of flawed command and control, crippling security protocols, inadequate intelligence, and equipment failures.1
Flawed Command and Control (C2): The mission was placed under the authority of an ad-hoc Joint Task Force (JTF), a structure created specifically for this operation despite the existence of a standing JTF staff at the Pentagon. This decision resulted in a fragile and poorly defined command structure.1 Clear lines of authority between the planning staff and the various service components participating in the mission were never firmly established. This created a C2 architecture that was susceptible to misunderstanding and breakdown under the immense pressure of the operation.1
Crippling Operational Security (OPSEC): An obsessive focus on secrecy, while necessary, was implemented to a counterproductive extreme. Information was severely compartmentalized, or “stovepiped,” among the planners and operators.1 This meant that Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps elements were not fully integrated during the planning process and, critically, had never rehearsed the entire mission from start to finish as a single, cohesive unit.2 This lack of integrated rehearsal prevented the identification of critical flaws and friction points in the complex plan, many of which would manifest with tragic consequences at the Desert One rendezvous point.6
Inadequate Intelligence: The operation was launched into an intelligence vacuum. The U.S. had virtually no reliable human intelligence (HUMINT) sources in Tehran following the revolution.2 This deficiency had a direct and debilitating impact on operational planning. Lacking blueprints for the captured embassy, which were inside the building, planners were forced to reconstruct the compound’s internal layout from the fragmented memories of a few former staffers, who often could not recall specific details.2 There was no “pattern of life” analysis on the hostage-takers, meaning the assault force had little idea of the number of guards, their locations, or their routines. Critical intelligence that was collected was often managed in an amateurish, ad hoc manner and failed to reach the operators who needed it most.2 The force was, in essence, being asked to improvise a complex assault in the heart of a hostile capital city.
Equipment and Interoperability Failures: The plan’s vertical-lift component relied on eight U.S. Navy RH-53D Sea Stallion helicopters flying from the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz. These aircraft were designed for minesweeping, not for long-range, low-level, clandestine infiltration missions in desert conditions.1 During the infiltration flight, the force encountered an unexpected dust storm known as a haboob. Two helicopters suffered mechanical failures and aborted the mission, while a third experienced a hydraulic problem but pressed on to the landing zone.3
Upon arrival at Desert One, the mission was left with only five operational helicopters, one short of the six deemed the absolute minimum for continuation, forcing the on-scene commander to recommend aborting the mission.4 The final, devastating blow came during the withdrawal. In the darkness and confusion, one of the remaining helicopters collided with a USAF EC-130 transport aircraft laden with fuel. The resulting explosion destroyed both aircraft and killed eight American servicemen.3 This tragic accident was a direct consequence of the lack of joint training and standardized procedures for a complex, multi-service ground refueling operation under stressful conditions.
The catastrophic failure of Operation Eagle Claw was not due to a single point of failure but was a systemic breakdown. The mission’s requirements were simply beyond the capabilities of the disjointed, non-integrated force assembled to execute it.
Mission Requirement
Operational Reality
Consequence
Unified Command & Control
Ad-hoc JTF with unclear authority; stovepiped planning between services.1
Confusion at Desert One; inability to adapt to changing conditions; fragile command structure.
Actionable Intelligence
No HUMINT on the ground; reliance on memory for embassy layout; no “pattern of life” analysis on guards.2
Assault force unprepared for internal layout; unaware of local threats, conditions, or guard dispositions.
Long-Range Vertical Lift
Use of unsuitable RH-53D helicopters not designed for the mission profile; no dedicated special operations aviation unit.1
No integrated, full-dress rehearsal conducted due to excessive OPSEC concerns.2
Unforeseen friction points (e.g., refueling); lack of familiarity between units; poor coordination under pressure.
Inter-Service Communications
Incompatible radio systems and communication protocols between different service components.
Difficulty coordinating air and ground elements, particularly during the chaotic withdrawal.
1.3 The Holloway Report: A Catalyst for Radical Change
In the wake of the disaster, the Joint Chiefs of Staff commissioned an investigation led by retired Admiral James L. Holloway III. The “Holloway Report,” as it came to be known, was an unflinching and deeply professional critique of the entire operation.6 While the report concluded that the mission concept was feasible and the decision to execute was justified, it meticulously documented the severe deficiencies that led to its failure.6
The report’s key findings centered on the themes that had become painfully obvious: command and control was fragile, planning was hampered by the lack of a full-dress rehearsal, and contingencies for weather and helicopter failures were inadequate.6 The public release of this scathing assessment laid bare for Congress and the American people the profound shortcomings in the U.S. military’s ability to conduct joint operations.8
The Holloway Report became the undeniable catalyst for change.1 Its recommendations provided the direct intellectual and political impetus for the creation of a permanent, standing joint special operations headquarters. More broadly, its findings fueled a wider movement for defense reform that culminated in two landmark pieces of legislation: the Goldwater-Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act of 1986 and the Nunn-Cohen Amendment to the National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 1987, which mandated the creation of the U.S. Special Operations Command (USSOCOM).1
The disaster at Desert One, therefore, had a paradoxical legacy. The very depth and humiliation of the failure created an unstoppable political momentum for reform. Without such a public and undeniable catastrophe, it is highly probable that inter-service rivalries, budgetary competition, and institutional inertia within the Pentagon would have prevented the radical and necessary changes that followed. The central lesson of Eagle Claw was not about the bravery of the individuals involved, but about the catastrophic consequences of a lack of “jointness.” The inability of the services to effectively plan, communicate, train, and operate as a unified force was the root cause of the disaster. JSOC was created, first and foremost, to solve that fundamental problem.
Section II: Forged in Fire – The Birth of a New Command (1980-1987)
The ashes of Desert One provided fertile ground for the most significant reorganization of U.S. special operations capabilities since World War II. The immediate response was the creation of a dedicated joint command to fix the tactical and operational deficiencies exposed by Eagle Claw. This was followed by a broader, congressionally-mandated reform that addressed the strategic and institutional neglect that had allowed those deficiencies to develop.
2.1 The Beckwith Mandate: A Standing Joint Force
Colonel Charles “Chargin’ Charlie” Beckwith, the founder of the Army’s 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta (Delta Force) and a ground commander during Operation Eagle Claw, was a fierce advocate for a permanent joint command structure.11 He had witnessed firsthand the lethal consequences of inter-service friction and ad hoc planning. On his and others’ strong recommendations, the Department of Defense moved swiftly.
Establishment: The Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) was formally established on December 15, 1980, less than eight months after the failed rescue mission. It was headquartered at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, co-located with its primary Army components.11
Initial Mission: JSOC’s initial charter was not primarily as an operational warfighting headquarters. Instead, it was conceived as an internal problem-solver for the Pentagon, a laboratory for “jointness” in the special operations realm. Its core mandate was to ensure that the U.S. military would never again have to assemble a complex special operation from scratch. Its primary functions were to:
Study special operations requirements and techniques to develop doctrine.
Ensure interoperability of equipment and standardization of procedures across the services.
Plan and conduct rigorous joint special operations exercises and training.
Develop and refine joint special operations tactics.11
Major General Richard Scholtes, a seasoned Army officer, was appointed as JSOC’s first commander, tasked with turning this new concept into a functional reality.11
2.2 The Tier 1 Arsenal: Assembling the Special Mission Units (SMUs)
JSOC was designed as a command element to integrate the nation’s most elite and clandestine military units. These organizations are officially referred to as “Special Mission Units” (SMUs), a generic term for forces specifically selected, trained, and equipped to execute the nation’s most sensitive and high-risk missions under the direct authority of the President or Secretary of Defense.14 The initial components brought under JSOC’s umbrella represented a concentration of specialized capability intended to prevent the failures of Eagle Claw.
Core Components:
1st SFOD-D (Delta Force / Task Force Green): The Army’s premier SMU, established by Beckwith in 1977. Modeled on the British Special Air Service (SAS), Delta Force is a highly versatile unit specializing in counter-terrorism, direct action, and hostage rescue. It was the lead assault element planned for the Tehran embassy raid.12
Naval Special Warfare Development Group (DEVGRU / Task Force Blue): Commonly known by its former name, SEAL Team Six, DEVGRU was the Navy’s answer to Delta Force. It was established in the immediate aftermath of Eagle Claw to provide a dedicated maritime counter-terrorism capability, ensuring the U.S. had an elite force that could operate from the sea. Its operators, or “assaulters,” are selected from the already elite ranks of the Navy SEALs.13
Intelligence Support Activity (ISA / Task Force Orange): Perhaps the most direct and crucial response to the failures of Eagle Claw, the ISA was created in 1981 to solve the mission’s catastrophic intelligence deficit.18 Known by a variety of cover names like “The Activity” or “Field Operations Group,” ISA’s purpose is to provide dedicated and actionable human intelligence (HUMINT) and signals intelligence (SIGINT) directly to JSOC’s operational elements. It was designed to prepare the battlespace, providing the granular, on-the-ground intelligence that was fatally absent in 1980.14 The creation of ISA in parallel with JSOC signifies that the architects of this new structure understood that elite operators and elite intelligence are two sides of the same coin; one is ineffective without the other.
24th Special Tactics Squadron (24th STS / Task Force White): The Air Force’s SMU, the 24th STS provides what are known as “enablers.” It consists of the most highly trained Combat Controllers, who are experts in airfield seizure and air traffic control in hostile environments, and Pararescuemen, the military’s top trauma medics. These specialists integrate directly with Delta and DEVGRU teams to bring the full force of U.S. airpower to bear and to provide life-saving medical care at the point of injury.13
Key Enablers:
Beyond the core SMUs, JSOC relies on dedicated support units. The most critical of these is the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (Airborne) (160th SOAR / Task Force Brown), known as the “Night Stalkers.” Formed specifically to address the aviation shortfalls of Eagle Claw, the 160th provides highly modified helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft, and the world’s best pilots, for clandestine, low-level, nighttime infiltration and exfiltration of special operations forces.12
Unit Designation & (Task Force Color)
Service Branch
Primary Mission Set
1st SFOD-D (Task Force Green)
U.S. Army
Counter-Terrorism, Direct Action, Hostage Rescue, Special Reconnaissance
DEVGRU (Task Force Blue)
U.S. Navy
Maritime Counter-Terrorism, Special Reconnaissance, Direct Action
ISA (Task Force Orange)
U.S. Army
Clandestine HUMINT & SIGINT Collection, Battlespace Preparation, Operational Support
24th STS (Task Force White)
U.S. Air Force
Special Tactics, Global Access, Precision Strike Coordination, Combat Search and Rescue
160th SOAR (Task Force Brown)
U.S. Army
Special Operations Aviation, Armed Escort, Infiltration/Exfiltration
2.3 The Broader Revolution: Goldwater-Nichols and the Creation of USSOCOM
The establishment of JSOC was the immediate, tactical-level solution to the problems of 1980. However, the systemic issues of budgetary neglect and inter-service rivalry that had weakened SOF required a larger, strategic-level solution. The same political will that created JSOC, fueled by continued operational problems in Grenada in 1983 and the Beirut barracks bombing that same year, drove a broader push for defense reform on Capitol Hill.24
Led by influential figures like Senator William Cohen and Senator Sam Nunn, Congress concluded that SOF would remain a low priority for the services unless it was given its own institutional power and budget.8 This led to a two-pronged legislative revolution.
Goldwater-Nichols Act (1986): This landmark law was the most significant reorganization of the Department of Defense since its creation. It dramatically strengthened the authority of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the unified combatant commanders, forcing the services to operate in a more “joint” fashion and breaking down the parochial barriers that had contributed to the Eagle Claw disaster.10
Creation of USSOCOM (1987): The Nunn-Cohen Amendment, passed as part of the 1987 Defense Authorization Act, mandated the creation of a new unified combatant command for all Special Operations Forces. The U.S. Special Operations Command (USSOCOM) was officially activated on April 16, 1987.1 USSOCOM was given service-like responsibilities, including its own budget line (Major Force Program 11), and was commanded by a four-star general who reported directly to the Secretary of Defense. This ensured that SOF would have a powerful, high-level advocate to fight for resources and represent its interests within the Pentagon bureaucracy. Upon its creation, JSOC, which had been operating for seven years, was formally placed under USSOCOM as a critical sub-unified command.11
This reform of U.S. special operations was thus a two-stage process. JSOC was the initial, tactical fix designed to solve the operational problems of interoperability and joint training. USSOCOM was the subsequent, strategic fix designed to solve the institutional problems of budgetary neglect and bureaucratic marginalization. One could not have been fully effective without the other.
Section III: The Formative Years – Early Operations and Lessons Learned (1983-2001)
With its core units established and a new joint framework in place, JSOC spent the 1980s and 1990s transitioning from a theoretical construct to a tested operational command. Its early deployments in Grenada, Panama, and Somalia served as a crucible, revealing both persistent challenges and a rapidly maturing capability. This period was characterized by a steep and often bloody learning curve, as the command honed its skills and confronted the complex realities of employing special operations as an instrument of national policy.
3.1 Grenada (Operation Urgent Fury, 1983): A Test of Jointness
In October 1983, a violent coup by hardline communists in the small Caribbean nation of Grenada created a perceived threat to the safety of several hundred American medical students on the island.24 The Reagan administration ordered a hasty, short-notice military intervention, codenamed Operation Urgent Fury.27 For the newly-formed JSOC, it was an early, unexpected test.
JSOC’s Role: JSOC elements, including Delta Force, SEAL Team Six, and Army Rangers, were tasked with several critical missions at the outset of the invasion. These included seizing key airfields, capturing Richmond Hill Prison to prevent the execution of political prisoners, and rescuing the island’s governor-general, Sir Paul Scoon.28
Analysis of Performance: While the overall operation succeeded in its strategic objectives of rescuing the students and removing the communist regime, its execution was fraught with tactical problems that echoed the failures of Eagle Claw. Intelligence was poor, maps were outdated, and inter-service communications were abysmal. Different service components used incompatible radio systems, making coordination nearly impossible. At one point, a SEAL officer on the ground had to use a personal credit card at a payphone to call back to Fort Bragg to request air support.
JSOC’s performance was mixed. The rescue of Governor-General Scoon was successful, but the assault on Richmond Hill Prison was called off due to heavy resistance and a lack of intelligence on the prison’s layout. Navy SEALs suffered casualties in a daylight assault on a radio tower and lost four men when their reconnaissance boat was swamped in rough seas before the invasion.28 The operation revealed that simply creating a joint command on paper was insufficient. True integration required a deep cultural shift, compatible technology, and extensive, realistic joint training—precisely the things JSOC had been created to foster, but had not yet had time to perfect.24
3.2 Panama (Operation Just Cause, 1989): A Maturing Capability
Six years after Grenada, JSOC’s involvement in the invasion of Panama demonstrated a significant leap in capability. Operation Just Cause, launched on December 20, 1989, was a far more complex and meticulously planned operation designed to depose Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega.31 Unlike in Grenada, where SOF were an auxiliary component, in Panama, the Joint Special Operations Task Force (JSOTF) was central to the entire invasion plan.33
Key Missions & Outcomes:
Operation Acid Gambit: This was the marquee mission for JSOC and a textbook demonstration of its core competency. A team from Delta Force, delivered by MH-6 “Little Bird” helicopters of the 160th SOAR, conducted a daring raid on the rooftop of the Cárcel Modelo prison to rescue a captured American CIA operative, Kurt Muse.34 The mission, which had been rehearsed extensively on a full-scale mock-up, was a stunning success. It showcased the seamless integration of elite operators and specialized aviation that was the hallmark of the new JSOC model.34
The Hunt for Noriega: The JSOTF was assigned 27 targets in the opening hours of the invasion, with the primary objective being the capture of Noriega himself.34 This mission evolved into a multi-day manhunt as Noriega fled through a network of safe houses. JSOC forces tracked him relentlessly, eventually cornering him in the Apostolic Nunciature (the Vatican’s embassy) in Panama City, leading to his eventual surrender.34
Denial of Escape Routes: To prevent Noriega from fleeing the country, Navy SEALs were tasked with disabling his private Learjet at Paitilla Airfield and his personal boat.35 While the attack on the boat was successful, the raid on the airfield met with unexpectedly heavy resistance. Four SEALs were killed and eight were wounded in the intense firefight, a heavy price for a secondary objective.35
Analysis: Operation Just Cause is widely regarded as JSOC’s “coming of age.” The successful execution of numerous complex and simultaneous missions, particularly the flawless rescue of Kurt Muse, validated the concept of a standing joint command. However, the heavy casualties sustained by the SEALs at Paitilla served as a stark reminder that even with superior planning and training, special operations remain inherently high-risk endeavors.
In August 1993, a JSOC-led formation, designated Task Force Ranger, deployed to Mogadishu, Somalia. Commanded by the sitting JSOC commander, Major General William F. Garrison, the task force’s mission was to capture the Somali warlord Mohamed Farrah Aidid and his key lieutenants, who were responsible for attacks on U.N. peacekeeping forces.36
Tactical Successes: The task force was a potent combination of JSOC’s premier units: C Squadron of Delta Force, Bravo Company of the 3rd Ranger Battalion, and helicopters from the 160th SOAR, with Air Force combat controllers from the 24th STS attached.23 For several weeks, the task force executed a series of successful “snatch-and-grab” raids, capturing a number of Aidid’s key personnel.37 The tactical model—Rangers establishing a security perimeter while Delta operators conducted the assault—was well-rehearsed and effective.36 During the infamous battle on October 3-4, the individual bravery and tactical acumen of the operators and Rangers were extraordinary, as a force of roughly 100 Americans held off thousands of heavily armed Somali militia fighters for over 15 hours.38
Strategic & Tactical Failures:
The mission on October 3rd to capture two of Aidid’s top aides began as a routine raid but devolved into a catastrophic battle for survival.
Underestimation of the Enemy: U.S. forces had underestimated the Somalis’ tactical adaptation and their proficiency with rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs). The downing of two MH-60 Black Hawk helicopters by RPG fire was a tactical surprise that fundamentally changed the nature of the mission, shifting it from an assault to a desperate rescue.39
Inadequate Support and Political Constraints: The most critical failure was strategic, occurring in Washington D.C. long before the mission. The task force’s request for heavier armored support, specifically AC-130 Spectre gunships and M1 Abrams tanks, had been denied by the civilian leadership.36 This decision left the task force’s ground convoy of unarmored Humvees dangerously vulnerable in the dense urban environment of Mogadishu. When the helicopters went down, the lightly armored rescue convoy was unable to fight its way through the barricaded streets to the crash sites, leading to the encirclement of the American forces.40
Consequences: The Battle of Mogadishu resulted in 18 U.S. servicemen killed and 73 wounded.39 The political fallout was immense. Televised images of the bodies of American soldiers being dragged through the streets by Somali mobs caused a public and political backlash that led to the withdrawal of U.S. forces from Somalia and created a deep-seated reluctance in American foreign policy—the so-called “Somalia Syndrome“—to commit ground troops to humanitarian or stabilization missions for the remainder of the decade.
The operational history of JSOC’s first decade demonstrates a clear, if costly, learning process. The chaos of Grenada underscored that the concept of jointness had yet to become an operational reality. The precision of Panama showed a significant maturation in the command’s ability to plan and execute its core missions. Finally, the tragedy of Somalia revealed a new and more complex challenge: even a tactically superior force could be defeated by strategic miscalculation and political constraints imposed from afar. JSOC was learning not only how to fight, but also how its unique capabilities fit—and sometimes clashed with—the broader context of U.S. national policy.
Section IV: The Global Hunt – JSOC’s Transformation in the War on Terror
The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, were a strategic inflection point for the United States and, by extension, for the Joint Special Operations Command. The event fundamentally remade JSOC, transforming it from a small, specialized command focused on crisis response and discrete contingencies into the primary engine of a global, persistent counter-terrorism campaign. In the decade that followed, JSOC would receive unprecedented authority, resources, and a direct mandate from the highest levels of government, evolving into a global intelligence and operational network of unparalleled lethality and reach.
4.1 A New Mandate and Unprecedented Authority
In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, the U.S. government required a force that could rapidly find, fix, and finish Al-Qaeda operatives anywhere in the world, often in denied or ungoverned spaces.41 JSOC, with its existing stable of elite, clandestine units, was the natural choice for this mission.
The Rumsfeld Transformation: Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld was instrumental in this shift. He formally designated U.S. Special Operations Command (USSOCOM), and by extension its sub-unified command JSOC, as the lead U.S. military organization for planning and synchronizing the Global War on Terrorism (GWOT).25 This was more than a bureaucratic re-labeling; it represented a fundamental change in the command’s role and power. In 2002, Rumsfeld changed JSOC’s designation from a “supportive” to a “supported” command.10 This seemingly minor change had massive implications: it meant that JSOC now had the authority to request resources and support from any other command in the U.S. military—including geographic combatant commands like CENTCOM—to accomplish its global mission. JSOC was no longer just a tool for other commanders; it was now a primary actor on the world stage, with a direct line to the Secretary of Defense and the President.10
Expansion of Resources: This new authority was matched by a massive influx of resources. JSOC’s budget and personnel numbers grew exponentially. Before 9/11, the command consisted of approximately 1,800 troops; by the height of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, its ranks had swelled to an estimated 25,000 personnel.43 More importantly, JSOC was given priority access to the nation’s most advanced intelligence and surveillance assets, including fleets of unmanned aerial vehicles (drones), dedicated satellite coverage, and the full collection capabilities of the National Security Agency (NSA).41
4.2 The McChrystal Revolution: Fusing Intelligence and Operations
The most profound transformation within JSOC was not merely one of scale, but of doctrine and culture. Under the command of then-Major General Stanley McChrystal from 2003 to 2008, JSOC underwent a radical internal revolution to adapt to the nature of its new enemy, particularly Al-Qaeda in Iraq (AQI).41
From Raiding Force to Learning Network: McChrystal recognized that AQI was not a traditional, hierarchical army but a decentralized, adaptive, and geographically dispersed network. He argued that to defeat a network, JSOC had to become a superior network itself: faster, more intelligent, and more adaptable.41 This required breaking down the internal and external silos that had traditionally separated operators, intelligence analysts, and other government agencies.
The F3EA Cycle: To achieve this, JSOC perfected a new operational model that became its hallmark: the “Find, Fix, Finish, Exploit, Analyze” (F3EA) cycle.42 This model transformed the purpose of a special operations raid.
Find, Fix, Finish: The traditional components of a direct-action mission—locating a target, confirming its position, and then capturing or killing it.
Exploit, Analyze: This was the revolutionary addition. Every mission became an intelligence-gathering opportunity. Operators were trained to rapidly collect all materials from a target site—cell phones, computers, documents, and pocket litter. This material was immediately fed to co-located analysts who would “exploit” it for new intelligence—phone numbers, contacts, meeting locations. This analysis would then fuel the “Find” phase of the next cycle, often launching a new raid on a newly discovered target within hours.
This self-perpetuating cycle of operations and intelligence created a relentless tempo that systematically dismantled enemy networks. Under this model, capturing targets became preferable to killing them, as a live detainee was an invaluable source of intelligence that could illuminate the entire network.41
Breaking Down Silos: To make the F3EA cycle work at high speed, McChrystal physically and culturally broke down the walls between organizations. He established Joint Operations Centers where JSOC operators sat side-by-side with intelligence analysts from the CIA, NSA, and DIA, as well as law enforcement and other interagency partners.41 This fusion of intelligence and operations allowed for the near-instantaneous sharing of information, turning a multi-day intelligence cycle into one that could be measured in minutes. This collaborative, networked approach was the “secret weapon” that allowed JSOC to gain a decisive advantage over its enemies in Iraq.47
4.3 Case Study I: Dismantling Al-Qaeda in Iraq (AQI)
The hunt for Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the notoriously brutal leader of AQI, served as the crucible for JSOC’s new methodology. Zarqawi’s organization was responsible for thousands of deaths, spectacular bombings, and horrific beheadings, and was deliberately stoking a sectarian civil war between Iraq’s Sunni and Shia populations.46
The Hunt: For years, a JSOC-led task force (often designated Task Force 121 or Task Force 145) waged a relentless campaign to destroy AQI. Using the F3EA model, the task force conducted raids almost every night, systematically working its way up the AQI hierarchy. Each raid yielded new intelligence—a phone number from a captured SIM card, a name from a document—that would immediately trigger the next raid.41 This high-tempo “industrial counter-terrorism” put AQI under unbearable pressure, preventing them from planning, communicating, or massing effectively.
The Kill: The multi-year intelligence effort culminated on June 7, 2006. Intelligence gleaned from the network led JSOC to the spiritual advisor of Zarqawi, and by tracking him, they were able to pinpoint Zarqawi’s location in a remote safehouse near Baqubah.49 With the target fixed, a U.S. Air Force F-16C jet dropped two 500-pound guided bombs, killing the terrorist leader.48 The operation was a triumph for JSOC’s intelligence-driven model. However, as General McChrystal himself later noted, while the tactical success was undeniable, it may have come too late to prevent the strategic damage Zarqawi had already inflicted on Iraq by igniting the fires of sectarian war.46
4.4 Case Study II: Operation Neptune Spear
If the campaign against AQI demonstrated JSOC’s mastery of network-centric warfare, the raid that killed Osama bin Laden on May 2, 2011, represented the pinnacle of its surgical strike capability.
The Objective: The mission, codenamed Operation Neptune Spear, had a single, clear objective: to kill or capture the founder of Al-Qaeda and the mastermind of the 9/11 attacks, who had been the world’s most wanted man for nearly a decade.50
Intelligence and Planning: The operation was the product of years of patient, painstaking intelligence work led by the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). CIA analysts eventually identified and tracked one of bin Laden’s most trusted couriers to a large, unusually secure compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan.51 While intelligence strongly suggested bin Laden was there, there was no definitive proof.51 President Barack Obama tasked JSOC, under the command of then-Vice Admiral William H. McRaven, to develop a raid plan. The mission was assigned to the Naval Special Warfare Development Group (DEVGRU, or SEAL Team Six). For months, the selected SEALs from Red Squadron trained for the mission in full-scale replicas of the compound built in the U.S., rehearsing every possible contingency.50
Execution: In the early morning hours of May 2, 2011 (local time), a team of 23 SEALs, an interpreter, and a combat dog were flown from Jalalabad, Afghanistan, deep into Pakistan aboard two specially modified, stealth Black Hawk helicopters flown by the 160th SOAR.52 The raid itself took approximately 40 minutes. After a hard landing by one of the helicopters, the SEALs breached the compound, systematically clearing the buildings.51 Bin Laden was found and killed in a firefight on the third floor of the main residence. Before departing, the team collected a massive trove of computers, hard drives, and documents for intelligence analysis and destroyed the damaged stealth helicopter to protect its sensitive technology.50
Significance: Operation Neptune Spear was a flawless demonstration of JSOC’s post-9/11 capabilities. It showcased seamless interagency fusion (CIA intelligence driving a JSOC operation), meticulous and detailed planning, technological superiority, and unparalleled tactical proficiency under extreme pressure. It was the culmination of a decade of evolution, representing the ultimate application of the command’s “find, fix, finish” model against the nation’s highest-priority target.52
Section V: The Modern Command – Capabilities, Controversies, and the Future
In the decades since its post-9/11 transformation, JSOC has solidified its position as the nation’s premier special operations force. It has honed a set of advanced capabilities that allow it to project power with unprecedented speed and precision. However, this effectiveness has come at a cost, generating significant legal and ethical debates and creating complex challenges for democratic oversight. As the U.S. strategic focus pivots from counter-terrorism to great power competition, JSOC now faces its next great evolutionary test.
5.1 The Technological Edge: ISR, Drones, and Cyber
JSOC’s operational model is built upon a foundation of technological superiority, particularly in the realm of Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (ISR). This technological edge allows the command to execute its F3EA cycle at a tempo its adversaries cannot match.
Persistent Surveillance: The command has priority access to a vast array of national and theater-level ISR assets, most notably a fleet of unmanned aerial vehicles (drones) and other clandestine “covered air” platforms.41 These assets can provide persistent, 24/7 surveillance of a target, allowing analysts to build a detailed “pattern of life” that identifies vulnerabilities and determines the optimal time to strike.57
SIGINT-Driven Targeting: A key and controversial element of JSOC’s technological arsenal is its advanced use of signals intelligence (SIGINT) for targeting. Working in close partnership with the NSA, JSOC has pioneered techniques to locate and target individuals based solely on the electronic emissions of their devices, such as cell phones or satellite phones.58 Specialized systems, with codenames like GILGAMESH, can be mounted on drones, allowing them to function as “simulated cell towers” that force a target’s phone to connect, thereby revealing its precise location.58 While highly effective, this method has been criticized for its overreliance on technology, which can be spoofed or unreliable, and has been cited as a contributing factor in strikes that have resulted in civilian casualties.58
Integrated Cyber Operations: Recognizing that modern conflict spans multiple domains, JSOC has developed its own sophisticated cyber warfare capabilities. These allow the command to conduct offensive operations in the digital realm, such as hacking into enemy communication networks, disrupting command and control, and exfiltrating data to support physical operations.41 This integration of cyber effects with kinetic raids represents a significant evolution in special operations tactics.
5.2 The Gray Zone: Legal and Ethical Frontiers
JSOC’s global reach and lethal precision have pushed it to the forefront of complex legal and ethical debates about the nature of modern warfare. Operating in the “gray zone” between declared war and peace, its actions have challenged traditional legal frameworks and raised difficult questions about accountability.
The AUMF and the “Global Battlefield”: The legal foundation for most of JSOC’s post-9/11 operations is the 2001 Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF). Passed by Congress just days after the attacks, it grants the President the authority “to use all necessary and appropriate force” against those responsible for 9/11.61 Successive executive branch legal interpretations have stretched this authority to cover “associated forces” of Al-Qaeda and to apply globally, without geographic limitation. This has created a legal rationale for JSOC to conduct operations in countries where the U.S. is not officially at war, such as Yemen, Somalia, and Pakistan, effectively defining the entire world as a potential battlefield.61
Targeted Killing Debate: The policy of “targeted killing,” often executed by JSOC via drone strikes or direct-action raids, is at the heart of the legal controversy.
Arguments For: The U.S. government argues that these actions are lawful acts of self-defense against enemy combatants under the international laws of armed conflict. They are not considered “assassinations,” which are prohibited, but rather legitimate military operations against individuals who pose a continuing and imminent threat to the United States.61
Arguments Against: Critics, including many international law experts and human rights organizations, contend that outside of a recognized “hot” battlefield like Afghanistan, using lethal force against individuals who are not in custody amounts to extrajudicial execution, which violates international human rights law.63 The legal framework remains ambiguous, highly contested, and dependent on classified executive branch interpretations.66
Accountability and Oversight: JSOC’s culture of extreme secrecy, combined with its direct reporting chain to the highest levels of the executive branch, creates profound challenges for democratic oversight. Critics argue that the command operates with minimal accountability and that congressional oversight is largely ineffective.43 While formal oversight mechanisms exist, such as the requirement to notify congressional intelligence committees of significant activities, the speed, classification, and sheer volume of JSOC’s operations make meaningful, proactive review exceptionally difficult.67 Recent reports from the Government Accountability Office (GAO) have highlighted systemic weaknesses in the civilian oversight structure, noting that the office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Special Operations/Low-Intensity Conflict (ASD-SO/LIC) is understaffed and lacks clearly documented policies to effectively oversee the sprawling SOF enterprise.70
5.3 The Next War: Adapting for Great Power Competition
The 2018 National Defense Strategy marked a formal pivot in U.S. defense policy, shifting the primary focus away from counter-terrorism and toward long-term strategic competition with near-peer adversaries, specifically China and Russia.72 This new era presents JSOC with its most significant adaptive challenge since 9/11.
Evolving Role for SOF: In a conflict or competition with a peer adversary, JSOC’s role will necessarily change. While it must retain its high-end counter-terrorism capabilities, the command is re-emphasizing its core competencies in what is now termed “irregular warfare” (IW). This involves a suite of activities conducted below the threshold of conventional armed conflict, including special reconnaissance, unconventional warfare (i.e., working with resistance movements or proxies), foreign internal defense, information operations, and cyber warfare.45 The goal is to counter the “gray zone” activities of rivals and shape the strategic environment to the United States’ advantage.
Challenges of Adaptation: The operational environment of a peer conflict is fundamentally different from that of the GWOT. JSOC can no longer assume the conditions that enabled its success in Iraq and Afghanistan:
Contested Environments: Unlike against terrorist groups, JSOC cannot expect to achieve air superiority, a permissive communications environment, or unchallenged technological overmatch against a peer adversary. Its aircraft, communications, and operators will be actively targeted by sophisticated enemy air defenses, electronic warfare, and counter-reconnaissance capabilities.78
Risk of Escalation: A tactical engagement with a Russian or Chinese unit carries with it the risk of strategic escalation, a factor that was largely absent in counter-terrorism operations. This will necessitate tighter political control and less operational autonomy for commanders on the ground.
Cultural Shift: The command’s culture, honed over two decades of high-tempo direct-action raids, must adapt. The “kick down the door” model of the GWOT must be balanced with the deeper clandestine skills of long-term intelligence gathering, relationship-building with partners, and operating with a much smaller, less visible footprint.45 This requires a re-prioritization of missions, with some tasks potentially being handed off to conventional forces so that JSOC can focus on the unique, high-risk challenges that only it can address.73
The very success of JSOC in the GWOT has created a strategic dependency on its methods, potentially normalizing a state of perpetual, low-visibility warfare. As it pivots to face peer competitors, the command confronts a potential collision between its ingrained culture of technological overmatch and operational speed and the harsh realities of a new, more dangerous, and contested global landscape.
Conclusion and Strategic Assessment
The history of the Joint Special Operations Command is a powerful testament to the U.S. military’s capacity for institutional learning and adaptation, albeit a capacity most often catalyzed by profound failure. Born from the ashes of Desert One, JSOC was the direct, pragmatic solution to the critical problem of joint interoperability that had crippled a generation of special operations. Tested in the crucible of early deployments in Grenada and Panama, it matured from a theoretical construct into a lethally proficient direct-action force.
The attacks of September 11, 2001, did not just give JSOC a new mission; they fundamentally remade the command. Transformed by an unprecedented mandate and a revolution in intelligence-driven warfare, it became a global, networked organization that changed the character of counter-terrorism. Today, JSOC stands as the nation’s most elite and secretive military force, a “secret army” capable of projecting precise lethal and non-lethal power anywhere on the globe, often with little public acknowledgment or debate.43
However, its unparalleled effectiveness has created profound and unresolved challenges. Its operations exist in a legal and ethical gray zone, governed by broad and aging legal authorities that raise difficult questions about sovereignty, due process, and the definition of armed conflict. Its secrecy and direct reporting lines create significant hurdles for meaningful democratic oversight, a problem that persists despite decades of operations.
As the United States pivots from the long wars of the post-9/11 era to an age defined by great power competition, JSOC faces its next great evolutionary test. It must adapt the culture, tactics, and technologies honed in the fight against non-state terrorist networks to the far more complex and dangerous challenge of confronting peer and near-peer state adversaries. This will require a difficult transition from an environment of technological overmatch to one of contested domains, and from a focus on tactical attrition to one of strategic influence and irregular warfare. JSOC’s ability to navigate this fundamental shift will determine its relevance and effectiveness in the defining national security challenges of the 21st century.
Appendix
Table 3: Timeline of Major JSOC Operations and Doctrinal Impact
Date(s)
Event/Operation
Significance / Doctrinal Impact
1980
Operation Eagle Claw
Catalyst for reform; exposed systemic failures in joint SOF capabilities.
1980
JSOC Established
Creation of a standing joint SOF headquarters to fix interoperability and training deficiencies.
1983
Operation Urgent Fury
Exposed persistent joint C2 and intelligence flaws, highlighting that structural change alone was insufficient.
1987
USSOCOM Established
Placed JSOC under a unified command with budgetary authority (MFP-11), solving institutional neglect.
1989
Operation Just Cause
Demonstrated maturing capability in complex, pre-planned direct action (e.g., Operation Acid Gambit).
1993
Operation Gothic Serpent
Revealed strategic vulnerabilities and the impact of political constraints on tactically proficient SOF employment.
2001-Present
Global War on Terrorism
Massive expansion of JSOC’s authorities, resources, and global mission as the lead CT force.
2003-2006
Hunt for al-Zarqawi (Iraq)
Perfection of the F3EA cycle and the network-centric model of intelligence-driven counter-terrorism.
2011
Operation Neptune Spear
Pinnacle of intelligence-driven direct action; demonstrated seamless interagency fusion (CIA-JSOC).
2018-Present
Pivot to Great Power Competition
Ongoing adaptation to irregular warfare, information operations, and peer adversary threats in contested environments.
Image Source
The source JSOC emblem was obtained from Wikipedia on October 6, 2025 and inserted into a Google Gemini created image. The logo itself was created by United States Special Operations Command / Vector graphic : Futurhit12 – File:Seal of the Joint Special Operations Command.png, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=79124650
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Covert Action and Clandestine Activities of the Intelligence Community: Selected Congressional Notification Requirements | Congress.gov, accessed September 9, 2025, https://www.congress.gov/crs-product/R45191
Special Operations Forces: Documented Policies and Workforce Planning Needed to Strengthen Civilian Oversight | U.S. GAO – Government Accountability Office, accessed September 9, 2025, https://www.gao.gov/products/gao-24-106372
Special Operations Forces: Better Data Necessary to Improve Oversight and Address Command and Control Challenges – GAO, accessed September 9, 2025, https://www.gao.gov/products/gao-23-105163
The Amphibious Reconnaissance and Patrol Unit (ARPU), known colloquially as the “Frogmen,” constitutes a Tier 1 special operations force within the Republic of China Marine Corps (ROCMC).1 This unit stands as a critical instrument of the Republic of China’s (ROC) national defense policy, and its development serves as a direct reflection of Taiwan’s shifting geopolitical and military realities. The ARPU’s history charts a course from a force posture centered on the strategic objective of mainland recovery to its current role as a linchpin of determined asymmetric defense against the formidable and ever-modernizing People’s Liberation Army (PLA).4
This report will demonstrate that the ARPU has evolved from a conventional amphibious reconnaissance unit, heavily influenced by American Cold War-era formations, into a multi-domain special operations force optimized for sea denial, counter-invasion, and asymmetric warfare. This transformation has made it a pivotal component of Taiwan’s overarching “Overall Defense Concept” (ODC).7 The unit’s continuous adaptation in tactics, organization, and equipment—driven by the escalating threat across the Taiwan Strait and a deepening, albeit unofficial, security partnership with the United States—is the central theme of this analysis.
2.0 Genesis and Formative Years (1950–1996): Forging a Littoral Reconnaissance Capability
2.1 Post-War Origins and American Doctrinal Influence
The genesis of the ARPU lies in the turbulent period between 1950 and 1955, a direct consequence of the Nationalist government’s retreat to Taiwan and the immediate, existential need to develop a specialized amphibious warfare capability.1 Following the passage of the U.S. Mutual Security Act of 1951, American military advisory presence and aid became a cornerstone of Taiwan’s defense structure.3 It was within this context of close U.S.-ROC military cooperation that the ROCMC Command, with guidance from American advisors, established its first formal reconnaissance element.3
From its inception, the unit’s doctrine was a unique and deliberate hybrid. While its organizational structure was patterned after the United States Marine Corps Amphibious Reconnaissance Battalion, its core training philosophy and skillset were explicitly modeled on the U.S. Navy’s Underwater Demolition Teams (UDTs)—the direct predecessors of the modern Navy SEALs.1 This fusion was not an arbitrary choice but a strategic necessity. The ROC’s primary strategic objective of the era was a potential amphibious counter-attack on mainland China. A pure reconnaissance force could identify landing sites, while a pure demolition unit could clear them. Facing the monumental task of an opposed landing with finite resources, the ROCMC required a single, elite formation capable of performing both functions sequentially: to clandestinely reconnoiter a potential beachhead and then clear it of obstacles for the main landing force. This created a potent “force multiplier” unit possessing a broader, more direct-action-oriented skillset than a standard reconnaissance formation, a flexibility that would prove invaluable decades later as its mission pivoted from offense to defense.
Initial missions were aligned with this offensive posture, focusing on clandestine intelligence gathering, pre-invasion hydrographic surveys, beach obstacle clearance, and identifying enemy fortifications.15 Early operators reportedly conducted covert infiltrations of PRC-held coastal areas to gather critical intelligence.15 The selection pool for this arduous duty was limited to enlisted Marines holding the rank of Sergeant or below, who were subjected to a grueling, year-long training course.1 By 1955, after the first three classes had successfully graduated, the unit had cultivated a sufficient cadre of experienced operators and instructors to become self-sufficient in its training pipeline.1
2.2 A Fragmented Organizational Evolution
During its formative decades, the unit’s structure was fluid and subordinate to the larger conventional echelons of the ROCMC. It began as a reconnaissance team directly under the Marine Corps Headquarters before being broken down into smaller detachments (偵察分隊) and assigned to the Marine Brigades.9 With the establishment of the 1st Marine Division in 1955, the unit was formalized as an Amphibious Reconnaissance Company (兩棲偵察連).9 A second company was stood up in 1966 with the formation of the 2nd Marine Division.10
A significant consolidation occurred in 1969 when the division-level reconnaissance companies were merged with the reconnaissance platoons organic to the infantry regiments. This created larger, more capable division-level Reconnaissance and Search Battalions (偵察搜索營), which centralized command and control of these specialized assets within each division.10 This period saw further organizational flux that mirrored broader changes in the ROCMC force structure, such as the creation of a reconnaissance company for the newly formed 77th Marine Division in 1979 and its subsequent disbandment in 1984.10
This long period of subordination to conventional division commands likely constrained the unit’s development as a true special operations force. As a division-level asset, its primary function was to support the division’s amphibious landing mission, not to conduct independent, strategic-level special operations. This structure would have limited its access to the specialized equipment, transportation, and intelligence assets available only at the highest levels of command. The constant reorganizations tied to the fate of its parent divisions indicate that the unit was viewed more as a specialized component of a conventional force rather than a strategic asset in its own right. This institutional mindset would have to be fundamentally overcome for the ARPU to evolve into its modern form.
3.0 The Modern Era (1997–Present): Consolidation and Doctrinal Realignment
3.1 Unification and Creation of a Strategic Asset
The year 1997 marks the birth of the modern Amphibious Reconnaissance and Patrol Unit (海軍陸戰隊兩棲偵搜大隊).3 In a pivotal reorganization, disparate special-purpose units within the ROC Navy and Marine Corps were consolidated into a single, brigade-level command reporting directly to the ROCMC Headquarters.10 This consolidation was the most critical transformation in the unit’s history, elevating it from a collection of tactical-level assets into a strategic special operations command.
The new ARPU merged the existing Amphibious Reconnaissance and Search Battalion with the 66th Division’s Reconnaissance Company and, significantly, the Marine Corps Political Warfare Company.10 The unit’s capabilities were further enhanced by absorbing the 99th Division’s Reconnaissance Company in 2001, the elite Marine Corps Special Service Company (CMC.SSC)—colloquially known as the “Black Outfit Unit”—in 2004, and finally, the Navy’s own Underwater Demolition Group in 2005.1 Before this period, reconnaissance, direct action, and UDT capabilities were stove-piped in different units with separate command chains, creating significant friction in planning and executing complex operations. By merging these elements, the ROCMC created a single command with a full-spectrum maritime special operations capability, encompassing reconnaissance, direct action, underwater operations, and unconventional warfare. This unified structure allows for streamlined command, integrated training, and the ability to tailor force packages for specific missions—a hallmark of modern SOF commands worldwide.
Time Period
Unit Designation(s)
Parent Command
Key Changes/Events
1950–1955
Reconnaissance Team (偵察隊), Reconnaissance Detachment (偵察分隊)
ROCMC HQ, later Marine Brigades
Establishment with U.S. advisory input; training modeled on U.S. Navy UDTs.10
1955–1968
Amphibious Reconnaissance Company (兩棲偵察連)
1st & 2nd Marine Divisions
Formalized as company-sized elements organic to the newly formed Marine Divisions.10
1969–1996
Reconnaissance and Search Battalion (偵察搜索營)
Marine Divisions
Recon companies and regimental recon platoons merged into larger, division-level battalions.10
1997–Present
Amphibious Reconnaissance and Patrol Unit (兩棲偵搜大隊)
ROCMC Headquarters
Consolidated into a single, brigade-level strategic command.10
2001
Integration of 99th Division Recon Company
ARPU
Further consolidation as the 99th Division is disbanded.10
2004
Integration of Marine Corps Special Service Company (CMC.SSC)
ARPU
Unit absorbs the ROCMC’s top-tier direct action/counter-terrorism unit.1
2005
Integration of Navy Underwater Demolition Group
ARPU
All primary naval special warfare capabilities unified under the ARPU command.10
3.2 The Crucible: Selection and Training
The modern pathway to becoming a Frogman is a grueling 10-week basic training course conducted at the Zuoying Naval Base in Kaohsiung.1 The course is open only to volunteers from within the ROCMC and is designed for extreme physical and psychological attrition, with a completion rate that hovers between 48% and 50%.1 The curriculum pushes candidates to their limits with endless long-distance runs, punishing calisthenics, swimming in full combat gear, small boat handling, demolitions, and guerrilla warfare tactics.15
The training regimen culminates in the “Comprehensive Test Week,” more commonly known as “Hell Week” (克難週).10 This is a six-day, five-night ordeal of continuous physical activity, with candidates permitted only one hour of rest for every six hours of exertion, pushing them to the brink of collapse.17
The final test is the iconic “Road to Heaven” (天堂路), a 50-meter crawl over a path of sharp coral rock that candidates, clad only in shorts, must traverse while performing a series of prescribed exercises.1 Instructors loom over them, shouting orders and sometimes pouring salt water onto their open wounds to amplify the pain and test their resolve.1 This highly public and brutal ritual serves a dual purpose beyond mere physical selection. It is a powerful tool for psychological conditioning and a public display of national resolve. By enduring extreme, seemingly arbitrary pain under the watchful eyes of instructors and, uniquely, their own families, candidates demonstrate an unwavering commitment that transcends physical toughness.1 This public spectacle serves as a form of strategic communication: to a domestic audience, it showcases the military’s elite standards, and to a potential adversary, it sends an unmistakable signal of the fanatical resistance an invading force would face. Upon completing the crawl, graduates are officially certified as ARPU Frogmen.1
3.3 The Shift to Asymmetric Operations and the “Overall Defense Concept”
With the formal abandonment of the strategic goal to retake mainland China, the ARPU’s mission has been completely reoriented toward the defense of Taiwan.6 This doctrinal shift aligns the unit with Taiwan’s “Overall Defense Concept” (ODC), a strategy that de-emphasizes matching the PLA symmetrically and instead focuses on leveraging the advantages of defense, ensuring survivability, and destroying an invading force in the littoral zone and on the beaches.5
The ARPU’s modern tactical employment directly reflects this new reality. Its core missions now include:
Sea Denial: In a conflict, ARPU teams would likely be tasked with covertly deploying from small boats under the cover of darkness to conduct reconnaissance on PLA naval formations, acting as forward observers to call in precision strikes from Taiwan’s formidable shore-based anti-ship missile batteries.17
Counter-Infiltration and Guerrilla Warfare: The unit serves as a high-readiness rapid reaction force, prepared to counter PLA special forces attempting to seize critical infrastructure or establish a lodgment ahead of a main invasion force.15
Critical Infrastructure Defense: Reflecting a shift toward homeland defense, the ARPU has been specifically tasked with defending the Tamsui River and the Port of Taipei. These are key strategic entry points to the capital, and the ARPU is expected to work in concert with the Guandu Area Command and the Coast Guard to secure them against a riverine or port assault.20
Joint Operations and Training: The ARPU serves as a center of excellence for special tactics within Taiwan’s security apparatus. It provides advanced training to other elite units, including the Coast Guard’s Special Task Unit (STU) and the Military Police Special Services Company (MPSSC).1
4.0 The Operator’s Arsenal: An Evolution in Small Arms
The evolution of the ARPU’s small arms is a direct reflection of Taiwan’s strategic journey from near-total dependence on the United States to a robust indigenous defense industry, and finally to a sophisticated procurement strategy that blends domestic production with best-in-class foreign systems for specialized roles.
4.1 The American Legacy (1950s–1970s): Equipping for a Counter-Invasion
In the decades following the ROC’s retreat to Taiwan, its armed forces were almost entirely equipped through U.S. military aid programs established under the Mutual Defense Treaty and later the Taiwan Relations Act.3 The standard-issue rifle for the ROCMC, and by extension its nascent frogman units, was the U.S. M1 Garand, chambered in.30-06 Springfield.23 Taiwan received well over 100,000 of these powerful and reliable semi-automatic rifles.26 The primary sidearm was the venerable Colt M1911A1 pistol in.45 ACP, the standard U.S. military sidearm of the era.26 It is important to note, however, that the ARPU’s doctrinal predecessors, the U.S. UDTs, often operated with minimal armament during pure demolition and reconnaissance missions, prioritizing stealth and explosives over firepower. Their primary tools were often a Ka-Bar combat knife and haversacks of demolition charges.28 It is highly probable that the early ROCMC frogmen adopted a similar minimalist loadout for certain mission profiles, relying on standard infantry arms only when direct combat was anticipated.
4.2 The Indigenous Drive (1970s–2000s): Forging Self-Sufficiency
The geopolitical shifts of the 1970s, particularly the U.S. normalization of relations with the People’s Republic of China, injected a profound sense of uncertainty into Taiwan’s defense planning. This spurred a national effort to develop an indigenous defense industry capable of achieving self-sufficiency in critical weapons systems.30 This period saw the development of the T65 assault rifle series by Taiwan’s 205th Armory. Finalized in 1976 and chambered in 5.56x45mm NATO, the T65 was heavily influenced by the AR-15/M16 platform but incorporated a more robust short-stroke gas piston system derived from the AR-18, a design choice that prioritized reliability.31 The T65K2 variant became the standard-issue rifle for the ROC Army and Marine Corps, and ARPU operators would have transitioned to this platform during this period.31 To replace the aging fleet of M1911A1 pistols, the 205th Armory also developed the T75 pistol, a domestic copy of the Beretta 92F chambered in 9x19mm Parabellum.35
4.3 The Contemporary ARPU Armory: A Detailed Technical Assessment
The current ARPU arsenal represents a mature and sophisticated procurement strategy. It combines advanced, cost-effective indigenous systems for general issue with carefully selected, high-performance foreign weapons for specialized special operations requirements.
4.3.1 Primary Weapon System: T91 Assault Rifle
The T91 is the standard-issue rifle for all branches of the ROC Armed Forces, including the ARPU. Adopted in 2003 to replace the T65 series, it is a modern assault rifle built around a short-stroke gas piston system that offers enhanced reliability in harsh maritime environments while retaining the familiar ergonomics and controls of the AR-15/M16 platform.38 The rifle features an integrated MIL-STD-1913 Picatinny rail on the receiver for mounting optics, a 4-position selector switch (safe, semi-auto, 3-round burst, full-auto), and a telescoping stock modeled after the M4 carbine.39 Due to the nature of their missions, ARPU operators likely make extensive use of the T91CQC variant, which features a shorter 349 mm (13.7 in) barrel for improved maneuverability in the close confines of ship-boarding or urban combat scenarios.39
4.3.2 Sidearms: T75K3 and Glock Series
The standard-issue sidearm for the ARPU is the indigenously produced T75K3 pistol.35 This is the latest evolution of the T75 (Beretta 92 clone) and features improved ergonomics and a polygonally rifled barrel, which enhances both accuracy and service life.35 In line with global special operations trends, ARPU operators also utilize Glock 17 and 19 pistols.26 The Glock 19, in particular, is a worldwide favorite among elite units for its exceptional reliability, compact size, and vast ecosystem of aftermarket support, allowing for extensive customization.42
4.3.3 Close Quarters Battle (CQB) Systems: HK MP5
Despite its age, the German-made Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun remains a key tool in the ARPU’s arsenal for specialized CQB roles.26 Its continued use is not a sign of obsolescence but a testament to its superior performance in its intended niche. The MP5’s roller-delayed blowback, closed-bolt action provides a level of accuracy and control in full-automatic fire that is unmatched by simpler open-bolt designs.45 For surgical precision in hostage-rescue or maritime counter-terrorism scenarios, where over-penetration is a major concern, the 9mm MP5 remains an optimal weapon system.
4.3.4 Squad Support Weapons: T75 Light Machine Gun
For squad-level suppressive fire, the ARPU employs the T75 Light Machine Gun.26 This weapon, based on the highly successful Belgian FN Minimi, is produced in Taiwan and provides a high volume of 5.56mm fire.48 It is gas-operated, fires from an open bolt, and features the crucial ability to feed from both 200-round disintegrating belts and standard 30-round T91 rifle magazines, providing critical ammunition interoperability in a firefight.48
4.3.5 Precision Engagement Platforms
The ARPU fields a sophisticated and layered inventory of sniper systems for long-range precision engagement:
T93 Sniper Rifle: This is the standard-issue, domestically produced bolt-action sniper rifle, chambered in 7.62×51mm NATO and closely patterned after the U.S. M24 Sniper Weapon System.50 The ROCMC was a primary customer for this rifle, ordering 179 units beginning in 2009. The rifle has an effective range of over 800 meters, and an improved T93K1 variant features a 10-round detachable box magazine for faster follow-up shots.50
T112 Heavy Sniper Rifle: A new indigenous anti-materiel rifle scheduled for delivery in 2025.51 Chambered in 12.7×99mm NATO (.50 BMG), this weapon will provide ARPU teams with the capability to engage and destroy high-value targets such as light armored vehicles, radar installations, and small watercraft at an effective range of 2,000 meters.51
Accuracy International AXMC/AX50: For the most demanding missions, the Taiwan Marine Corps Special Forces have procured top-tier sniper systems from the British firm Accuracy International.52 The AXMC is a multi-caliber platform, likely used in.338 Lapua Magnum for extreme-range anti-personnel work, while the AX50 is a.50 BMG anti-materiel rifle. The acquisition of these world-class systems demonstrates a commitment to providing ARPU snipers with a qualitative edge on the battlefield.
Weapon Type
Model(s)
Origin
Caliber
Action
Role
Assault Rifle
T91 / T91CQC
Taiwan
5.56×45mm NATO
Gas-operated, short-stroke piston
Standard issue primary weapon; CQC variant for close-quarters
Pistol
T75K3
Taiwan
9×19mm Parabellum
Short recoil, DA/SA
Standard issue sidearm
Pistol
Glock 17 / 19
Austria
9×19mm Parabellum
Striker-fired
Special operations sidearm
Submachine Gun
HK MP5A5
Germany
9×19mm Parabellum
Roller-delayed blowback
Close Quarters Battle (CQB), Maritime Counter-Terrorism
Light Machine Gun
T75 LMG
Taiwan
5.56×45mm NATO
Gas-operated, open bolt
Squad-level suppressive fire
Sniper Rifle
T93 / T93K1
Taiwan
7.62×51mm NATO
Bolt-action
Designated marksman / Sniper rifle
Heavy Sniper Rifle
T112
Taiwan
12.7×99mm NATO
Bolt-action
Anti-materiel, extreme long-range engagement
Sniper Rifle
Accuracy International AXMC
UK
Multi-caliber (e.g.,.338 LM)
Bolt-action
Specialized long-range anti-personnel
Heavy Sniper Rifle
Accuracy International AX50
UK
12.7×99mm NATO
Bolt-action
Specialized anti-materiel
5.0 The Future Frogman: A Speculative Outlook
5.1 Deepening Integration with U.S. Special Operations Forces
The most significant factor shaping the ARPU’s future is the recently confirmed permanent stationing of U.S. Army Special Forces (Green Berets) in Taiwan for training and advisory missions.53 This deployment, authorized under the U.S. National Defense Authorization Act, represents a fundamental shift in U.S. policy, which for decades avoided a permanent military presence on the island to maintain strategic ambiguity.53 The placement of U.S. SOF on outlying islands like Kinmen, just miles from the mainland, transcends simple tactical instruction; it serves as a powerful geopolitical signal. This deployment creates a “tripwire” force, where any PLA action against these islands now carries the direct risk of causing U.S. casualties, an event that would dramatically increase the likelihood of a direct American military response and thus complicates Beijing’s invasion calculus.
For the ARPU, this “train the trainer” approach will instill the latest SOF tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTPs), particularly in areas like Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2) and decentralized operations—areas where Taiwan’s traditionally hierarchical command structure has been identified as a weakness.4 This will enhance interoperability, allowing ARPU teams to seamlessly integrate with U.S. or allied forces in a conflict.
5.2 The Technological Battlespace and Asymmetric Armaments
The future ARPU operator will be equipped to maximize the lethality and survivability of small, distributed teams. This will involve the widespread adoption of advanced optics, night vision, and laser designators as standard issue. The focus will shift heavily toward man-portable asymmetric systems that allow small teams to neutralize high-value targets. This includes loitering munitions (suicide drones), such as the indigenous Flyingfish system, and advanced anti-armor missiles like the Javelin and Kestrel, which can be used to destroy landing craft, armored vehicles, and command posts.3 Furthermore, the integration of micro-UAVs like the Black Hornet Nano at the squad level will become standard, providing teams with an organic and immediate intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) capability, reducing their dependence on higher-echelon assets.57
5.3 The Evolving Role in Cross-Strait Deterrence: The “Stand-In Force” Concept
In a potential conflict, the ARPU’s role will align closely with the U.S. Marine Corps’ emerging concept of “Stand-In Forces” (SIF).58 These are small, low-signature, highly mobile units designed to operate
inside the enemy’s anti-access/area denial (A2/AD) bubble.59 The ARPU’s mission will be to survive the PLA’s initial missile and air bombardment and then conduct sea denial and disruption operations along Taiwan’s coastline and outlying islands.
This represents a fundamental shift in the unit’s purpose. Historically, the ARPU was a “spearhead” intended to lead an offensive amphibious assault.15 In the future, it will function as the distributed “nervous system” of Taiwan’s defense. The “porcupine” strategy relies on a network of mobile, concealed weapon systems (like anti-ship missiles) to attrite an invading fleet.5 The primary challenge for this strategy is finding and tracking the targets amidst the chaos and electronic warfare of an invasion. ARPU teams, with their stealth, mobility, and organic ISR capabilities, are perfectly suited to act as the forward sensor nodes of this defensive network. Their future value will be measured less by the number of enemies they eliminate directly and more by the number of high-value targets—ships, command centers, logistics hubs—they enable the larger joint force to destroy. They are evolving from a kinetic tool into a critical Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (C4ISR) enabler, making them indispensable to the success of the Overall Defense Concept.
6.0 Conclusion
The evolutionary arc of the Amphibious Reconnaissance and Patrol Unit is a microcosm of Taiwan’s larger strategic transformation. From its origins as a U.S.-modeled reconnaissance force postured for an offensive mission that would never materialize, it has been forged by geopolitical necessity into a consolidated, multi-mission special operations command. Through a crucible of brutal selection and a pragmatic approach to armament, the ARPU has become a highly capable and professional force.
Today, the ARPU stands as a cornerstone of Taiwan’s asymmetric defense strategy. No longer a simple spearhead, its evolving doctrine positions it as a vital sensing and targeting network, designed to operate inside an enemy’s weapon engagement zone to enable the destruction of an amphibious invasion force. The unit’s advanced training, specialized equipment, and deepening integration with U.S. Special Operations Forces make it one of the most credible deterrents to a successful PLA amphibious assault. The continued modernization and effectiveness of these “Frogmen” will remain a key factor in maintaining stability in the Taiwan Strait and ensuring the defense of the Republic of China.
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The Republic of China (ROC) Marine Corps future role in Overall Defense Concept (ODC) under the threat of the PRC/PLA. – DTIC, accessed September 7, 2025, https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/pdfs/AD1177947.pdf
The fundamental nature of conflict as a political instrument, a violent means to compel an adversary to fulfill one’s will, remains an immutable feature of international relations. Yet, over the past 50 years, the character of this conflict—the domains in which it is fought, the tools employed, and the very definitions of victory and defeat—has undergone a radical transformation. The global strategic landscape has shifted from a state of episodic, declared wars, punctuated by periods of discernible peace, to a condition of persistent, undeclared, multi-domain competition. The clear delineation between war and peace has not merely blurred; it has been deliberately eroded and is now actively exploited as a domain of strategic ambiguity.1
This report analyzes this fundamental evolution in the character of conflict. It begins by establishing a strategic baseline circa 1975, a world defined by the bipolar certainty of the Cold War. In that era, the existential threat of a massive conventional and nuclear exchange between two superpowers paradoxically forced competition into the shadows, creating and refining the playbook for today’s hybrid conflicts. The analysis then traces the profound technological and doctrinal shifts of the post-Cold War era, marked by the “Revolution in Military Affairs” (RMA), which cemented U.S. conventional military dominance but also accelerated the turn toward asymmetric strategies by its rivals.
Finally, the report examines the current state of international competition, arguing that the major powers are already engaged in a form of “undocumented conflict.” This conflict is waged continuously across new and expanded domains—economic, cyber, and informational—and is increasingly shaped by emerging technologies, most notably artificial intelligence (AI). The ultimate battlefield has expanded from physical territory to encompass critical infrastructure, financial systems, and the cognitive domain of public perception itself. The central challenge for national security in the 21st century is no longer simply preparing for a future war, but navigating the unending conflict that is already here.
Section I: The Cold War Baseline – A World of Bipolar Certainty (c. 1975)
Fifty years ago, the strategic environment was defined by a stark, bipolar clarity. The world was divided into two ideological blocs, led by the United States and the Soviet Union, locked in a competition underwritten by the threat of global thermonuclear war.5 This overarching threat of Mutually Assured Destruction created a paradoxical stability at the strategic level. While it made direct, large-scale conventional war between the superpowers unthinkable, it did not eliminate conflict. Instead, it channeled geopolitical competition into deniable, indirect, and asymmetric arenas, creating an incubator for the hybrid methods that define the modern era.
The Conventional Battlefield – The Fulda Gap and the North German Plain
The central front of the Cold War was Europe, where two of the most powerful military alliances in history stood poised for a cataclysmic conventional battle. Military doctrine and force posture on both sides were overwhelmingly focused on this potential high-intensity conflict.
NATO’s strategy was formally codified in 1967 as “Flexible Response.” This doctrine moved away from the previous policy of “Massive Retaliation” and envisioned a tiered response to Warsaw Pact aggression. An attack would be met first with a direct conventional defense, followed by the deliberate and controlled escalation to tactical, and finally strategic, nuclear weapons if necessary.6 The goal was to possess a credible deterrent at every level of the escalatory ladder. NATO’s planning called for its forces to be capable of sustaining a conventional defense in Central Europe for approximately 90 days against a full-scale invasion, allowing time for political negotiation or the decision to escalate.6 However, a sense of unreality pervaded these preparations; while doctrine called for a seamless transition from conventional to nuclear operations, all practical attempts to devise tactics for actually fighting and winning on a nuclear battlefield had proven futile.8
The Warsaw Pact, guided by Soviet military thought, held a fundamentally offensive-oriented doctrine. Soviet theorists believed that the defensive was an inherently weaker form of warfare and that decisive victory could only be achieved through the offense.9 Their plans were officially framed as a massive “counterattack” that would follow the repulse of an initial NATO assault. This offensive would depend on the overwhelming numerical superiority of Soviet-style forces, particularly their vast tank armies, to break through NATO lines along axes like the Fulda Gap and the North German Plain and rapidly advance deep into Western Europe.9 In 1975, the Warsaw Pact enjoyed a considerable numerical advantage in Central Europe, particularly in tanks and artillery, and held the geostrategic advantage of “interior lines,” which allowed for the rapid transfer of forces between fronts.10
This doctrinal standoff fueled an intense technological arms race in conventional weaponry. The mid-1970s saw the introduction of a new generation of military hardware. Tanks were upgraded with stabilized turrets and electronic fire controls, while armored personnel carriers evolved into heavier infantry fighting vehicles from which troops could fight.8 The development of potent anti-tank guided missiles (ATGMs) forced armored divisions to adopt closer cooperation between tanks and infantry.8 Armies on both sides became increasingly motorized and mechanized. This period also saw the first significant use of remotely piloted vehicles (RPVs), or drones, for surveillance and target acquisition, and the maturation of the attack helicopter as a dedicated “tank-busting” platform, a lesson learned from its massive use in Vietnam.8 This unprecedented faith in technology led to a battlefield where the number and quality of electronic systems became a primary index of an army’s modernity.8 For the U.S. Army, this era was one of doctrinal ferment, with its focus shifting cyclically between conventional warfare in Europe, the specter of nuclear conflict, and the immediate lessons of counterinsurgency in Vietnam, resulting in a tactical doctrine more complex than at any other point in its history.12
The Shadow War – Proxy Conflicts and Clandestine Operations
While the armies in Europe planned for a war that never came, the actual superpower conflict was being fought—brutally and continuously—in the shadows and across the developing world. The high risk of nuclear escalation made direct confrontation too dangerous, turning proxy wars and clandestine operations into the primary instruments of geopolitical competition.14
Proxy wars were the main event of the Cold War, accounting for an estimated 20 million deaths, almost all of which occurred in the “Third World”.14 These conflicts were ostensibly local or regional disputes, but they became battlegrounds for the larger ideological struggle between capitalism and communism.16 The superpowers avoided direct military clashes but fueled the fighting by providing massive amounts of funding, weaponry, training, and political backing to their respective surrogate forces.14 The Vietnam War, which saw the United States supporting South Vietnam against the Soviet- and Chinese-backed North, was the most devastating example.5 Other major proxy conflicts of the era included the Angolan Civil War, where the Soviet Union and Cuba backed the MPLA against U.S.-supported factions 18, and the Ogaden War, where the superpowers switched allegiances, with the Soviets ultimately backing Ethiopia against U.S.-supported Somalia.21 These interventions allowed the superpowers to test strategies and military hardware while avoiding a direct “hot war,” but they left a legacy of devastation and long-term instability in the regions where they were fought.16
Parallel to these overt-by-proxy conflicts was a relentless, clandestine war fought by the intelligence agencies of both blocs. The CIA and the KGB engaged in a global struggle for influence through espionage, subversion, and covert action. The CIA’s activities included political subversion, such as providing financial support to officers plotting against Chile’s Salvador Allende before the 1973 coup, and paramilitary operations, such as arming and training mujahideen guerrillas in Afghanistan in the following decade.23 The agency also engaged in numerous, and often bizarre, assassination plots against figures like Fidel Castro.23 Espionage was rampant, with both sides dedicating immense resources to stealing military-industrial secrets and recruiting high-level agents within the other’s government and intelligence services.23 The KGB was notoriously effective in this domain, having infiltrated Western intelligence agencies to the point where the CIA was often “utterly ignorant of Soviet espionage operations” against it.25
The KGB, for its part, conducted what it termed “executive actions” or “wet work” (liquidations) through its secretive 13th Department.26 These operations targeted defectors, dissidents, and other “ideological opponents” abroad with the aim of silencing anti-Soviet voices and sowing fear within émigré communities.26 To maintain plausible deniability, the KGB often employed exotic methods, such as the ricin-filled pellet fired from a modified umbrella used to kill Bulgarian dissident Georgi Markov in London in 1978, and frequently relied on the intelligence services of allied Eastern Bloc nations to carry out the “dirty work”.26 In Africa, Soviet clandestine operations were particularly large-scale, as the KGB and GRU (military intelligence) worked to counter U.S. influence, supply arms to anti-government groups, and exploit the relatively weak capabilities of local security services to establish intelligence networks.27
This history reveals a significant divergence between the war that was being planned for and the war that was actually being waged. While the formal military doctrines of both NATO and the Warsaw Pact were fixated on a decisive, large-scale conventional battle in Europe, the true character of superpower conflict was predominantly irregular, clandestine, and fought through third parties. This created a deep reservoir of institutional knowledge and operational expertise in unconventional warfare, political subversion, and deniable operations within the intelligence and special operations communities. This expertise, developed in the shadows of the Cold War, would prove highly relevant in the multipolar, ambiguous security environment that followed.
Section II: The Technological Rupture – The Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA)
Beginning in the 1970s and accelerating dramatically after the end of the Cold War, a suite of new technologies catalyzed a fundamental shift in the conduct of conventional warfare. This “Revolution in Military Affairs” (RMA) was characterized by the integration of advanced surveillance, precision-guided weaponry, and networked command and control, creating an era of unparalleled U.S. military dominance.31 However, this very dominance had a profound and unintended consequence: it rendered symmetrical, conventional warfare an untenable option for potential adversaries, thereby accelerating their pivot toward the asymmetric and hybrid methods that now define the contemporary conflict landscape.
The Dawn of Precision and Stealth
Two technologies in particular formed the core of the RMA: precision-guided munitions and stealth.
Precision-Guided Munitions (PGMs), or “smart bombs,” fundamentally altered the calculus of air power. The ability to guide a weapon to its target with a high degree of accuracy represented a quantum leap in lethality and efficiency.33 During the Vietnam War, PGMs proved to be up to 100 times more effective than their unguided “dumb bomb” counterparts.35 This was starkly illustrated by the destruction of the Thanh Hoa Bridge in North Vietnam in 1972. The bridge, a critical supply line, had withstood hundreds of sorties and the loss of numerous aircraft over several years of conventional bombing, but was finally dropped by a small number of aircraft using laser-guided bombs.33 The 1991 Persian Gulf War served as the global debut for this capability on a massive scale. Coalition forces demonstrated that PGMs could destroy Iraqi armored vehicles with pinpoint accuracy in a process pilots dubbed “tank plinking”.33 Overall, while guided munitions accounted for only 9% of the total ordnance used in the war, they were responsible for 75% of all successful hits, proving 35 times more likely to destroy their target per weapon dropped than unguided bombs.33 This shifted the logic of bombing from achieving effects through mass to achieving them through precision.34
Stealth Technology provided the means to deliver these precision weapons by rendering aircraft nearly invisible to enemy radar. Platforms like the F-117 Nighthawk and the B-2 Spirit bomber were designed with faceted shapes and coated in radar-absorbent materials to reduce their radar cross-section (RCS) by several orders of magnitude.37 This innovation effectively negated decades of investment by adversaries in sophisticated integrated air defense systems.39 Like PGMs, stealth technology had its coming-out party during the Gulf War. F-117s flew with impunity over Baghdad, one of the most heavily defended cities in the world at the time, and decimated critical Iraqi command and control nodes, air defense sites, and other high-value targets. No stealth aircraft were lost in the conflict.39
The true power of the RMA, however, lay not in these individual technologies but in their integration into a networked “System of Systems”.40 This concept linked intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) platforms—such as satellites, spy planes, and drones—with command, control, and communications (C3) networks and precision-strike assets.31 This synergy created a virtuous cycle: ISR assets could find a target, the network could rapidly transmit that information to a decision-maker and a shooter, and a precision weapon could destroy the target with high probability. This integration of technology, doctrine, and organization produced a dramatic increase in military effectiveness.31
Doctrinal Transformation and Asymmetric Consequences
This technological revolution was accompanied by a doctrinal one within the U.S. military. Reeling from the experience in Vietnam and absorbing the lessons of the 1973 Yom Kippur War—where modern ATGMs and surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) inflicted heavy losses on Israeli armor and aircraft—the U.S. Army undertook a profound intellectual reassessment.41
In 1976, the Army published Field Manual 100-5, Operations, which codified a new doctrine known as “Active Defense”.44 This doctrine was a radical departure from previous thinking, focusing almost exclusively on a high-intensity, conventional battle against the Soviet Union in Europe.44 It was heavily focused on firepower, emphasizing the need to “win the first battle of the next war” by attriting the numerically superior Warsaw Pact forces with technologically advanced weaponry.45 Active Defense was controversial, however, and criticized for being too defensive and ceding the initiative to the enemy.41
This critique led to another doctrinal evolution. In 1982, the Army released a new version of FM 100-5 that introduced the concept of AirLand Battle.41 This doctrine was more aggressive and maneuver-oriented, designed specifically to defeat the Soviet operational concept of echeloned attacks.43 AirLand Battle envisioned an “extended battlefield” where U.S. forces would not just defend against the enemy’s front-line troops but would use integrated air power and long-range fires to attack and disrupt their follow-on echelons, command posts, and logistics deep in the rear.42 This required unprecedented levels of cooperation between the Army and the Air Force and was a perfect doctrinal match for the emerging technologies of the RMA.48
The stunning success of this new American way of war in the 1991 Gulf War had a chilling effect on potential adversaries. It became clear that challenging the United States in a conventional, state-on-state conflict was a recipe for swift and certain defeat. This reality, however, did not lead to a more peaceful world. Instead, it created a “compelling logic for states and non-state actors to move out of the traditional mode of war”.51 Unable to compete symmetrically, adversaries were forced to invest in asymmetric capabilities and strategies that could bypass or neutralize U.S. technological strengths.32 This strategic adaptation accelerated the global shift toward the very hybrid, irregular, and grey-zone methods that had been practiced during the Cold War. The RMA, in effect, made conventional war obsolete for most actors, thereby making unconventional conflict the new norm. The U.S. military had perfected a doctrine for fighting a specific adversary in a specific way, just as that adversary collapsed and the fundamental character of conflict was shifting beneath its feet.
Section III: The Expanded Battlefield – Hybrid Actors in New Domains
The end of the Cold War and the subsequent era of U.S. conventional military primacy did not end great power competition; it merely displaced it. Conflict migrated from the physical battlefield into non-physical and previously non-militarized domains. We have entered a state of persistent, low-level conflict where the distinction between peace and war is not simply blurred but is actively manipulated as a strategic tool. Adversaries now operate in a “grey zone,” employing hybrid methods to achieve strategic objectives without crossing the threshold of overt warfare.
The New Domains of Contestation
The modern battlefield is no longer confined to land, sea, and air. It has expanded to encompass the global economic system, digital networks, and the critical infrastructure that underpins modern society.
Economic Warfare has evolved into a primary instrument of statecraft, a sophisticated method of coercion that leverages global interdependence as a weapon.52 The “weaponization of finance” allows states, particularly the United States with its control over the global dollar-based financial system, to “cripple [countries] financially” through targeted sanctions against individuals, companies, and entire sectors of an economy.52 The unprecedented sanctions imposed on Russia following its 2022 invasion of Ukraine, which froze central bank assets and cut off major banks from international payment systems, demonstrate the power of this tool.56 Similarly, the “weaponization of trade” involves using tariffs, embargoes, and regulatory barriers to induce policy changes in a target state by exploiting economic dependencies.53 China’s campaign of economic coercion against Australia, which targeted key exports like wine, barley, and coal after Australia called for an inquiry into the origins of COVID-19, is a prime example of this strategy in action.59 Russia has also long used its position as a major energy supplier to Europe as a tool of political leverage, manipulating gas prices and threatening supply cutoffs to achieve foreign policy goals.62 This trend transforms economic interdependence from a source of mutual benefit into a critical vulnerability.55
Cyber Warfare has matured from a tool of espionage into a distinct domain of military operations. The watershed moment was the 2010 Stuxnet attack, a highly sophisticated computer worm believed to be a joint U.S.-Israeli operation. Stuxnet infiltrated Iran’s Natanz nuclear facility and caused physical damage to its uranium enrichment centrifuges, demonstrating for the first time that malicious code could produce kinetic effects.67 Since then, state-sponsored cyber operations have become commonplace. Advanced Persistent Threat (APT) groups linked to the governments of China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea now routinely conduct campaigns against adversaries.71 Their objectives range from espionage and intellectual property theft to prepositioning for future disruptive attacks on critical infrastructure, including telecommunications, energy grids, and transportation networks.74
Critical Infrastructure has become a new front line. The physical systems that support the global economy and information flow are now considered legitimate targets for grey-zone aggression. Undersea cables, which carry an estimated 99% of all transoceanic digital communications and trillions of dollars in financial transactions daily, are a point of extreme vulnerability.78 This vast network is susceptible to damage from both accidental causes, like fishing trawlers and dragging anchors, and deliberate sabotage.80 State actors, particularly Russia, are developing the capabilities to target these cables. Russia’s Main Directorate for Deep-Water Research (GUGI) operates specialized submarines and surface vessels, such as the
Yantar, which are equipped for deep-sea operations and have been observed loitering near critical cable routes.78 Recent incidents in the Baltic Sea, where data cables and a gas pipeline were damaged by a Chinese-flagged vessel dragging its anchor, have heightened concerns about coordinated hybrid attacks.83 The key strategic advantage of such attacks is the challenge of attribution. It is exceptionally difficult to prove that a cable cut by a commercial vessel was an intentional act of state-sponsored sabotage rather than an accident, providing the aggressor with plausible deniability and complicating any response by NATO or other targeted nations.78
The Doctrine of Ambiguity – Hybrid and Grey-Zone Warfare
To describe this new era of persistent, ambiguous conflict, analysts have developed two interrelated concepts: grey-zone conflict and hybrid warfare.
The Grey Zone is the conceptual space in which this competition occurs. It is defined by the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) as “the contested arena somewhere between routine statecraft and open warfare”.86 It is a realm of coercive and subversive activity deliberately designed to remain below the threshold that would provoke a conventional military response.1 In this space, revisionist powers like Russia and China use a range of non-military and quasi-military tools—including information operations, political and economic coercion, cyber operations, and the use of proxies—to gradually achieve strategic gains and weaken adversaries without triggering a full-scale war.86
Hybrid Warfare is the methodology employed within the grey zone. It is not a new form of warfare, but rather the integrated and synchronized application of multiple instruments of power—conventional and unconventional, military and non-military, overt and covert—in a unified campaign to achieve a strategic objective.89 Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and subsequent intervention in the Donbas region of Ukraine is the archetypal modern example. This operation seamlessly blended the use of deniable special forces (“little green men”), local proxy militias, economic pressure, cyberattacks, and a sophisticated, multi-platform disinformation campaign to achieve its goals before the West could formulate a coherent response.51
This environment has also transformed the nature of Proxy Warfare. The Cold War model of two superpowers manipulating client states has been replaced by a far more complex, multipolar system.96 Today’s sponsors include not only great powers but also ambitious regional actors like Iran, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and the UAE. The proxies themselves are no longer just state armies but a diverse ecosystem of non-state actors, including militias, transnational terrorist groups, private military companies, and political movements, many with their own ideologies and agendas that may diverge from those of their sponsors.96 The proliferation of advanced technology, from anti-tank missiles to armed drones and secure communications, has made these proxy forces more lethal and capable than ever before.101 Modern proxy battlefields, such as the Syrian civil war, are characterized by a dizzying array of local and international actors, with multiple sponsors backing various factions, creating a complex and brutal multi-sided conflict.14 Iran’s long-standing support for Hezbollah is a prime example of a modern proxy relationship, where financial aid, weapons, and training have cultivated a formidable non-state actor that serves as a key instrument of Iranian foreign policy.106
The defining trend of this new era is the normalization of hostile acts. Actions that would have once been considered casus belli—such as sabotage of critical national infrastructure, systemic economic coercion, or major cyberattacks against government and industry—are now treated as features of routine international competition. This has shifted the nature of conflict from an episodic state of declared war to a persistent condition of undeclared competition. In this grey zone, ambiguity is not a byproduct of conflict; it is a central objective and a strategic weapon. The ability to conduct a hostile act while making attribution difficult or impossible paralyzes the victim’s decision-making process and allows the aggressor to act with a degree of impunity.
Feature
United States / West
Russian Federation
People’s Republic of China
Doctrine Name
Grey-Zone / Hybrid Warfare Response
New Generation Warfare / Gerasimov Doctrine
Three Warfares / Systems Destruction Warfare
Primary Objective
Maintain status quo; deter/counter aggression; manage escalation
Revise post-Cold War order; re-establish sphere of influence; destabilize adversaries
Primarily a deterrent and response force; kinetic action is a last resort, often through SOF or proxies
Concealed military means supplement non-military efforts; special forces (Spetsnaz) and conventional forces are used for intimidation and decisive action
Military presence (PLA) creates physical leverage; used for intimidation and coercion (grey-zone tactics); prepared for decisive conventional action if necessary
Role of Information
Reactive; focus on countering disinformation and attribution
Central; aims to alter consciousness, create domestic chaos in target state, and achieve “information superiority” before kinetic action
Foundational; aims to control the narrative, shape domestic and international opinion, demoralize the adversary, and legitimize CCP actions
Sources
86
89
111
Section IV: The Cognitive Domain – The Battle for Perception
Perhaps the most fundamental transformation in the character of conflict over the past half-century has been the elevation of the human mind and collective public perception as a primary, and often decisive, battlefield. The strategic objective is increasingly not to defeat an enemy’s military forces, but to erode their society’s cohesion, paralyze their political will, and manipulate their very understanding of reality. This is narrative warfare, and its tools have evolved from state-controlled broadcast media to a global, AI-powered, social media-driven disinformation engine.
The Weaponization of Media and Social Media
The power of modern media to shape conflict was evident throughout the late 20th century, but the rise of the internet and social media in the 21st century created a new paradigm.
The Arab Spring, beginning in late 2010, was the first major geopolitical event to showcase the power of social media as a tool for political mobilization. Activists across Tunisia, Egypt, and other nations used platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube to organize protests, share information about government brutality, and bypass state-controlled media censorship to broadcast their message to a global audience.115 In Egypt, the “We Are All Khaled Said” Facebook page became a rallying point for a movement that ultimately toppled a decades-old regime.117 This demonstrated the potential for these new platforms to empower organic, bottom-up movements and challenge authoritarian control.120
However, state actors quickly recognized the power of these tools and began to co-opt them for their own purposes, leading to the industrialization of influence operations. The most prominent example is Russia’s Internet Research Agency (IRA), a state-sponsored “troll farm” dedicated to conducting online influence operations.121 The IRA’s tactics, revealed in detail following its interference in the 2016 U.S. presidential election, involve a sophisticated, multi-layered approach. Operators create and manage vast networks of fake social media accounts, or “bots,” designed to impersonate real citizens.122 These accounts are used to amplify divisive narratives, spread disinformation, and infiltrate online communities on both the political left and right, with the overarching goal of exacerbating existing social divisions and eroding trust in democratic institutions.123 The IRA’s methods include “narrative switching,” where accounts post non-political content most of the time to build a credible persona before injecting targeted political messages, and organizing real-world events, such as opposing protests, to bring online division into the physical world.122
This weaponization of information is not merely opportunistic; it is now a core component of state military doctrine. China’s concept of the “Three Warfares” explicitly codifies this approach. It includes “public opinion warfare” to dominate narratives and ensure domestic and international support, “psychological warfare” to demoralize an adversary and weaken their will to fight, and “legal warfare” (lawfare) to use international and domestic law to challenge the legitimacy of an opponent’s actions.114 Similarly, Russia’s doctrine of
“New Generation Warfare” (often associated with General Valery Gerasimov) views “information-psychological warfare” as a critical tool for achieving strategic goals by creating domestic chaos within a target state, often before any military action is taken.3 The Syrian Civil War serves as a stark case study of this new reality, where a brutal physical conflict has been accompanied by a relentless narrative war waged by all factions—the Assad regime, various rebel groups, and their respective foreign backers (including Russia, Iran, and Western powers)—each using traditional and social media to frame the conflict, legitimize their actions, and demonize their opponents.125
The AI-Powered Disinformation Engine
If social media provided the platform for modern information warfare, artificial intelligence is now providing the engine, promising to “supercharge” disinformation campaigns by dramatically increasing their speed, scale, and sophistication.130
The most alarming development is the rise of deepfakes and other forms of synthetic media. Using advanced AI techniques like generative adversarial networks (GANs), malicious actors can now create highly realistic but entirely fabricated audio and video content.132 This technology makes it possible to convincingly impersonate political leaders, military officials, or other public figures, having them appear to say or do things they never did.134 The national security implications are profound. A well-timed deepfake video could be used to fabricate a scandal to influence an election, spread false orders to military units to create chaos, or create a fake atrocity to serve as a pretext for war.135 An AI-generated image of an explosion at the Pentagon in 2023 briefly caused a dip in the U.S. stock market, demonstrating the real-world impact of such fabrications.137
Beyond deepfakes, AI is being used to automate and personalize propaganda on an unprecedented scale. Large language models can now generate false news articles and social media posts that are often indistinguishable from human-written content.138 These tools can be used to create tailored messages designed to appeal to the specific psychological vulnerabilities of target audiences, and to automate the operation of vast bot networks that can amplify these messages across multiple platforms.130 This dramatically lowers the barrier to entry for conducting large-scale influence operations, making these powerful tools available not just to states, but to a wide range of malicious actors.138
The cumulative effect of this AI-driven information warfare is not simply the spread of more falsehoods. Its ultimate strategic objective is the erosion of trust itself. The goal is not necessarily to make people believe in a specific lie, but to destroy their confidence in all sources of information—in the media, in government institutions, in scientific experts, and ultimately, in their own ability to discern fact from fiction. This fosters a state of what can be called “epistemic exhaustion,” where citizens become so overwhelmed by the flood of conflicting information that they disengage from civic life, making them passive and more susceptible to manipulation. A population that trusts nothing cannot form the consensus required to recognize and counter a national security threat, thereby achieving an adversary’s goal of societal paralysis without firing a single shot.
Section V: The Next Revolution – The AI-Enabled Battlespace
Just as the integration of precision, stealth, and networking catalyzed a Revolution in Military Affairs at the end of the 20th century, artificial intelligence is now driving another profound transformation in the character of warfare. This emerging revolution is centered on three key elements: the compression of decision-making to machine speed, the proliferation of intelligent autonomous systems, and the dominance of data as the central resource of military power. This shift promises unprecedented efficiency but also introduces complex new risks of escalation and loss of human control.
Accelerating the Kill Chain – AI in Intelligence and C2
Modern military operations are drowning in data. A torrent of information flows from satellites, drones, ground sensors, and countless other sources, far exceeding the capacity of human analysts to process it in a timely manner.140 Artificial intelligence is becoming the essential tool for turning this data overload into a decisive advantage.
The U.S. Department of Defense’s Project Maven (officially the Algorithmic Warfare Cross-Functional Team) is a flagship initiative in this area. Launched in 2017, Maven employs machine learning algorithms to automatically analyze full-motion video from drones and other ISR platforms.142 The system can detect, classify, and track objects of interest—such as vehicles, buildings, or groups of people—freeing human analysts from the tedious task of watching countless hours of footage and allowing them to focus on higher-level analysis and decision-making.144 This capability dramatically accelerates the intelligence cycle, reducing the time it takes to find and validate a target from hours or days to minutes or even seconds.146
This accelerated intelligence is being fed into increasingly AI-enhanced Command and Control (C2) systems. The objective is to create a seamless, networked architecture that connects any sensor to any decision-maker and any weapon system on the battlefield. This concept is at the heart of the U.S. military’s overarching strategy for Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2).147 AI algorithms within these C2 systems can fuse data from disparate sources to create a unified, real-time operational picture, predict enemy movements, analyze potential courses of action, and recommend optimal responses to commanders.140 The ultimate goal is to radically compress the “sensor-to-shooter” timeline, enabling forces to act at a tempo that overwhelms an adversary’s ability to react.
This pursuit of AI-driven military advantage has ignited a fierce technological competition, often described as an AI arms race, primarily between the United States and China.150 China has made AI a national priority and is pursuing a strategy of “military-civil fusion” to systematically leverage the expertise and innovation of its burgeoning private tech sector and universities for military modernization.111 Beijing’s goal is to achieve “intelligentized warfare,” using AI to achieve “decision dominance” through a highly integrated “systems warfare” approach.111 While the United States is widely seen as maintaining a lead in developing the most advanced, cutting-edge AI models, China’s state-directed approach gives it an advantage in the broad-scale adoption and practical integration of AI technologies across its military and economy.153
The Proliferation of Autonomy
The most visible and disruptive impact of AI on the battlefield is the proliferation of autonomous and semi-autonomous systems, particularly unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs).
The drone revolution has unfolded in two parallel tracks. On one end of the spectrum are sophisticated, reusable military drones like the Turkish Bayraktar TB2. In conflicts such as the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war, the TB2 proved devastatingly effective, combining long-endurance surveillance with precision-guided munitions to destroy Armenian air defenses, armor, and artillery, effectively dominating the battlefield.154 On the other end of the spectrum is the widespread use of cheap, commercially available, and often disposable drones, a trend brought to the forefront by the war in Ukraine. Both sides have deployed thousands of small quadcopters for reconnaissance and, more significantly, as first-person-view (FPV) “kamikaze” drones capable of destroying multi-million-dollar tanks and other armored vehicles.157 This has created a new reality of attritional drone warfare, where the low cost and sheer quantity of these systems can overwhelm even sophisticated defenses.159
This trend points toward the next frontier of military autonomy: Lethal Autonomous Weapon Systems (LAWS), colloquially known as “killer robots.” These are weapon systems that, once activated, can independently search for, identify, target, and kill human beings without direct human control over the final lethal decision.150 The development of LAWS raises profound legal and ethical challenges. Organizations like the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) have raised serious concerns about whether such systems can comply with the core principles of International Humanitarian Law (IHL), such as distinction, proportionality, and precaution.163 Key questions revolve around accountability—who is responsible when an autonomous weapon makes a mistake?—and the fundamental ethical principle of “meaningful human control” over the use of lethal force.166 In response to these concerns, the ICRC and numerous other bodies have called for the negotiation of new, legally binding international rules to prohibit unpredictable autonomous systems and those that target humans directly.162
The relentless pace of technological development is creating a strategic environment where the speed of combat is poised to exceed the limits of human cognition. As AI-enabled C2 systems compress decision cycles to seconds and autonomous weapons are designed to react instantly to threats, conflicts between two AI-enabled militaries may be fought and decided at machine speed, potentially before human commanders can fully comprehend the situation or intervene. This creates an inescapable and dangerous strategic logic: to remain competitive, militaries feel compelled to delegate more and more decision-making authority to AI systems, despite the profound ethical concerns and the immense risk of rapid, unintended escalation.171
Furthermore, the proliferation of cheap, effective, and increasingly autonomous systems is upending the traditional military-technical balance. The war in Ukraine has vividly demonstrated the problem of “cost asymmetry,” where inexpensive drones, costing only a few thousand dollars, can neutralize or destroy highly valuable military assets like tanks and warships that cost millions.158 Defending against swarms of these cheap drones with expensive, sophisticated air defense missiles is an economically unsustainable proposition.160 This challenges the entire Western military model, which has for decades relied on a relatively small number of expensive, technologically superior platforms. The future battlefield may not be dominated by the nation with the most advanced fighter jet, but by the one that can deploy the largest, most adaptable, and most intelligent swarm of inexpensive, autonomous, and attritable systems.
Conclusion: A State of Undocumented, Perpetual Conflict
The evidence of the past 50 years is conclusive: while the fundamental nature of war as a political act has not changed, its character has been irrevocably transformed. The clear, binary world of the Cold War, with its defined states of “peace” and “war,” has been replaced by a state of persistent, multi-domain competition. The lines have not just blurred; they have been erased and weaponized. The major powers are not on the brink of a new conflict; they are, and have been for some time, engaged in one. It is an undocumented, undeclared, and unending conflict fought not primarily with massed armies on physical battlefields, but with a new arsenal of hybrid tools across a vastly expanded battlespace.
This transformation has been driven by a confluence of factors. The nuclear stalemate of the Cold War forced competition into the shadows, normalizing the use of proxies, covert action, and political subversion. The subsequent Revolution in Military Affairs created such a profound U.S. advantage in conventional warfare that it compelled adversaries to abandon symmetrical competition and double down on these asymmetric, hybrid methods. The globalization of finance and information, coupled with the proliferation of cyber capabilities and advanced technologies, provided the new domains—economic, digital, and cognitive—in which this competition would be waged.
Today, Russia, China, the United States, and other powers are engaged in a constant struggle for advantage in the grey zone. This is a conflict fought with sanctions designed to cripple economies, with cyberattacks that probe critical infrastructure, with deniable sabotage of undersea cables, with proxy forces that allow for influence without attribution, and, most pervasively, with information campaigns designed to fracture societies from within.
The advent of artificial intelligence is now catalyzing the next revolution, one that promises to accelerate the speed of conflict beyond human comprehension. AI is transforming intelligence analysis, command and control, and the very nature of weaponry, pushing toward a future of algorithmic warfare and autonomous systems. This raises the specter of a battlefield where decisions are made in microseconds and escalation can occur without deliberate human intent.
In this new era, the traditional concept of “victory” is becoming obsolete. Victory is no longer solely defined by a signed treaty or a captured capital. It may be the successful paralysis of a rival’s economy through financial warfare 55; the quiet degradation of their military readiness through sustained cyber espionage 76; the fracturing of their political system through a multi-year disinformation campaign 123; or the achievement of a decisive technological breakthrough in AI that renders an adversary’s entire military doctrine irrelevant.150
The greatest danger of this new paradigm is not necessarily a deliberate, cataclysmic war, but the potential for uncontrollable escalation out of the grey zone. A miscalculation in a proxy conflict, a cyberattack with unforeseen cascading effects, or the autonomous action of an AI-powered weapon system could trigger a rapid spiral into a conventional conflict that no party initially intended. The central challenge for national security in the 21st century is therefore twofold: not only to prepare to win the wars of the future, but to learn how to successfully navigate the unending, undocumented conflict that is already here.
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A global kill list: Inside the KGB’s secret retribution operations beyond the Iron Curtain, accessed September 30, 2025, https://theins.ru/en/history/281554
Russia Sanctions and Export Controls: U.S. Agencies Should Establish Targets to Better Assess Effectiveness, accessed September 30, 2025, https://www.gao.gov/products/gao-25-107079
Iran’s use of cyberspace has evolved from an internal means of information control and repression to more aggressive attacks on foreign targets. The regime has been developing its own cybersecurity software and internet architecture in order to protect and insulate its networks, and it has been developing technological cyber expertise as a form of asymmetric warfare against a superior conventional US military. – Congress.gov, accessed September 30, 2025, https://www.congress.gov/crs_external_products/IF/HTML/IF11406.web.html
“The Tactics & Tropes of the Internet Research Agency” by Renee DiResta, Kris Shaffer et al. – UNL Digital Commons – University of Nebraska–Lincoln, accessed September 30, 2025, https://digitalcommons.unl.edu/senatedocs/2/
Combatting deepfakes: Policies to address national security threats and rights violations, accessed September 30, 2025, https://arxiv.org/html/2402.09581v1
An Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP) is a short, intense burst of electromagnetic energy that can disrupt, damage, or destroy electronic systems over a wide area. While EMP phenomena can occur naturally, their potential as a weapon of mass disruption presents one of the most severe and asymmetric threats to the national security of the United States. The nation’s profound and growing dependence on a complex, interconnected web of electronic systems makes it uniquely vulnerable to an attack that targets this very foundation of modern society. Understanding the distinct types of EMP, their physical generation mechanisms, and the specific ways they interact with and destroy electronics is the essential first step in assessing this threat and formulating a credible national response.
Taxonomy of EMP Events
EMP events are broadly categorized by their origin: natural or man-made.1 This fundamental distinction is critical, as it defines the characteristics of the pulse, the scope of its effects, and the nature of the threat itself.
Natural vs. Man-Made
Natural EMP events are primarily the result of severe space weather. A Coronal Mass Ejection (CME) from the sun can send a wave of plasma and charged particles toward Earth, causing a Geomagnetic Disturbance (GMD).2 A historically significant example is the 1859 Carrington Event, which induced currents so powerful they set telegraph offices ablaze.4 While a modern Carrington-class event would pose a catastrophic threat to long-line infrastructure like the electric grid, its effects are primarily low-frequency and do not contain the fast, high-frequency components that directly destroy smaller electronics.5
Man-made EMPs, by contrast, are engineered to maximize destructive potential across a broad frequency spectrum. These intentional attacks are the focus of this report and are divided into two primary categories based on the energy source used to generate the pulse.3
Nuclear vs. Non-Nuclear
The most powerful and wide-ranging EMP threat comes from a nuclear detonation, specifically a high-altitude burst, which generates a Nuclear Electromagnetic Pulse (NEMP).4 A single such event, known as a High-Altitude EMP (HEMP), can blanket the entire continental United States with a complex, multi-component pulse designed for systemic destruction.3
Conversely, Non-Nuclear Electromagnetic Pulse (NNEMP) weapons, often called E-bombs, use conventional energy sources to generate a more localized but still potent EMP.4 These devices offer tactical flexibility and can be deployed without crossing the nuclear threshold, presenting a different but equally serious set of strategic challenges.4
The Physics of a High-Altitude Nuclear Detonation (HEMP)
A HEMP is the most catastrophic EMP threat due to its vast area of effect and its complex, multi-layered waveform. A single nuclear weapon with a yield of 1.4 megatons, detonated at an altitude of 250 miles over the central U.S., would affect the entire continent.9 The 1962 Starfish Prime test, a 1.4-megaton detonation 250 miles over Johnston Island, caused streetlights to fail and burglar alarms to sound in Hawaii, nearly 900 miles away, demonstrating the profound reach of the phenomenon.6
The generation of a HEMP begins in the first nanoseconds after a nuclear detonation above an altitude of 30 km.10 The explosion releases an intense, instantaneous burst of gamma rays. These high-energy photons travel outward and collide with air molecules in the upper atmosphere. Through a process known as the Compton Effect, the gamma rays strip electrons from these molecules, creating a massive cascade of high-energy “Compton electrons”.9 These electrons, traveling at relativistic speeds, are captured by the Earth’s magnetic field and forced into a spiral trajectory, creating a massive, coherent, time-varying electrical current. This current radiates a powerful electromagnetic pulse that propagates down to the Earth’s surface.12
The resulting HEMP waveform is not a single pulse but a sequence of three distinct components, designated E1, E2, and E3. These components arrive in rapid succession, each with unique characteristics tailored to attack different parts of the technological infrastructure. This is not a random side effect but a synergistic weapon system, where each component’s attack enables and amplifies the damage of the next.
The E1 Pulse (Early-Time)
The E1 component is the first, fastest, and most direct threat to modern microelectronics. It is an extremely intense electric field, reaching peaks of 50,000 volts per meter (50 kV/m), with an incredibly rapid rise time measured in mere nanoseconds.12 Its duration is brief, lasting only a few microseconds.14 The E1 pulse’s energy is spread across a very broad frequency spectrum, from direct current (DC) up to 1 GHz, which allows it to efficiently couple with small-scale conductors like the wiring in buildings, the traces on printed circuit boards, and the internal architecture of microchips.11 This component acts as the “key” that unlocks the system’s defenses. Its speed is its greatest weapon; it rises too quickly for conventional surge protectors, which typically react in milliseconds, to provide any meaningful protection.11 By inducing voltages that far exceed the breakdown threshold of delicate semiconductor junctions, E1 is capable of destroying the “brains” of modern society: computers, communication systems, industrial control systems, and sensors.9
The E2 Pulse (Intermediate-Time)
Following the E1 pulse, from about one microsecond to one second after the detonation, is the E2 component.11 Generated by scattered gamma rays and inelastic gammas from neutrons, the E2 pulse has characteristics very similar to the electromagnetic pulse produced by a nearby lightning strike.11 On its own, the E2 pulse would be a manageable threat, as much of the nation’s infrastructure has some level of lightning protection.13 However, its danger is synergistic and opportunistic. The E2 pulse acts as the “crowbar” that exploits the now-undefended system. The E1 pulse may have already damaged or destroyed the very surge protection devices and filters designed to stop a lightning-like transient. The U.S. EMP Commission concluded that this synergistic effect is the most significant risk of E2, as it allows the energy of the second component to penetrate deeply into systems whose defenses have been compromised moments before.11
The E3 Pulse (Late-Time)
The final and longest-lasting component is the E3 pulse, which begins seconds after the detonation and can persist for minutes or even longer.11 This slow, low-frequency pulse is not generated by the Compton Effect but by the large-scale distortion of the Earth’s magnetic field. The expanding nuclear fireball, a massive bubble of hot, ionized gas, effectively shoves the planet’s magnetic field lines aside. As the field slowly snaps back into place, this magnetohydrodynamic (MHD) effect induces powerful, low-frequency currents in the Earth itself.15 The E3 pulse’s characteristics are very similar to a severe GMD from a solar storm.11
This component is the “demolition charge” that targets the “muscle” of the nation’s infrastructure: the electric power grid. The slow-changing fields of E3 are perfectly suited to induce geomagnetically induced currents (GICs)—powerful, quasi-DC currents—in very long electrical conductors, such as high-voltage transmission lines, pipelines, and railway lines.14 AC power systems, particularly the massive extra-high-voltage (EHV) transformers that form the backbone of the grid, are not designed to handle these DC-like currents. The GICs cause the magnetic cores of these transformers to saturate, leading to extreme harmonic distortion, rapid overheating, and catastrophic physical destruction within minutes.13 The E3 pulse ensures that even if some electronics survive the E1 and E2 pulses, they will be without the electrical power needed to function for a very long time.
The Physics of Electronic Disruption
The destructive power of an EMP stems from its ability to use an electronic system’s own wiring against it. According to Maxwell’s equations, a time-varying magnetic field induces an electric field, and thus a current, in any nearby conductor.1 An EMP is an intense, rapidly changing electromagnetic field; therefore, any conductive material within its range—from a continental power line to a microscopic wire in a CPU—acts as an antenna, collecting the pulse’s energy and converting it into damaging electrical currents and voltages.18
Coupling and Induced Currents
The efficiency of this energy transfer, or “coupling,” depends on the relationship between the wavelength of the EMP’s energy and the length of the conductor. The high-frequency E1 pulse couples best with shorter conductors (a few inches to several feet), which is why it is so damaging to personal electronics and the internal components of larger systems.15 The low-frequency E3 pulse couples most efficiently with very long conductors (many miles), making the nation’s vast network of power lines the primary collector for its destructive energy.15 Once coupled, these induced currents can reach thousands of amperes, and voltages can reach hundreds of kilovolts, overwhelming circuits designed to operate on a few volts and milliamps.15
Failure Modes
The induced energy surge destroys electronics through two primary mechanisms:
Dielectric Breakdown: Every electronic component contains insulating materials (dielectrics) designed to prevent current from flowing where it should not, such as the thin silicon dioxide layer that insulates the gate of a transistor. When the voltage induced by an EMP exceeds the dielectric strength of this material, the insulator permanently breaks down, creating a short circuit. This process effectively “fries” the microchip, turning a complex transistor into a useless carbon resistor.18
Thermal Damage: The flow of an immense current through a tiny conductor, per Joule’s law (P=I2R), generates an incredible amount of heat in a fraction of a second. This intense local heating can melt or vaporize the delicate internal wiring of an integrated circuit, fuse transistor junctions together, or burn out components on a circuit board.9
Vulnerability of Modern Electronics
The relentless drive for smaller, faster, and more energy-efficient electronics has inadvertently made modern society exponentially more vulnerable to EMP. Solid-state microelectronics operate at very low voltages and have microscopic feature sizes, which dramatically reduces their tolerance to voltage spikes compared to older, more robust technologies like vacuum tubes.20 The very complexity and miniaturization that enable our technological prowess have become a critical vulnerability.
Non-Nuclear EMP (NNEMP) Weapons
While HEMP represents the most catastrophic threat, the development of effective NNEMP weapons has created a new class of tactical threats. These devices allow an adversary to achieve localized, debilitating electronic effects without resorting to nuclear weapons, thus occupying a dangerous strategic “gray zone”.4 An attack using an NNEMP weapon could paralyze a city’s financial district or disable an air defense network without causing direct loss of life, potentially creating confusion and plausible deniability that might delay or prevent a kinetic military response.22
Technology Overview
NNEMP weapons use conventional energy sources to generate a powerful, localized pulse. The two primary technologies are:
Flux Compression Generators (FCGs): An FCG uses a bank of capacitors to send a strong initial current through a coil of wire (the stator), creating an intense magnetic field. A cylinder filled with high explosives (the armature) is placed inside the coil. When the explosive is detonated, the rapidly expanding armature creates a moving short circuit with the stator, compressing the magnetic field into an ever-smaller volume. This rapid compression converts the chemical energy of the explosive into a single, massive electromagnetic pulse.23
High-Power Microwave (HPM) Weapons: These devices function like highly advanced, weaponized microwave ovens. They use technologies like virtual cathode oscillators (vircators) or magnetrons to generate an extremely powerful, focused beam of microwave energy.23 This directed energy can be aimed at a specific target to disrupt or destroy its internal electronics. The U.S. Air Force has successfully tested HPM weapons delivered by cruise missiles, such as the Counter-electronics High Power Microwave Advanced Missile Project (CHAMP) and its successor, the High-Powered Joint Electromagnetic Non-Kinetic Strike Weapon (HiJENKS).23
Tactical Applications
NNEMP weapons can be delivered by a variety of platforms, including cruise missiles, drones, or even ground vehicles like a van.4 Their effects are geographically constrained, ranging from a single building to several square miles, depending on the size of the weapon and its altitude.9 This makes them ideal for surgical, non-lethal (to humans) first strikes against high-value military or civilian targets. An NNEMP could be used to disable enemy command and control centers, blind air defense radars to clear a path for conventional bombers, or cripple a nation’s stock exchange to trigger economic chaos.22
Table 1: Comparison of EMP Threat Characteristics
Threat Type
HEMP (E1)
HEMP (E3)
NNEMP (HPM/FCG)
Geomagnetic Disturbance (GMD)
Generation Source
High-Altitude Nuclear Detonation
High-Altitude Nuclear Detonation
Conventional Explosive / Microwave Generator
Solar Coronal Mass Ejection
Rise Time
Nanoseconds (10−9 s)
Seconds to Minutes
Nanoseconds to Microseconds
Hours to Days
Duration
Microseconds (10−6 s)
Minutes to Hours
Microseconds to Milliseconds
Days
Peak Field Strength
Very High (~50 kV/m)
Very Low (~0.01−0.1 V/m)
High (Localized)
Extremely Low
Frequency Spectrum
Broadband (DC – 1 GHz)
Very Low Frequency (<1 Hz)
Narrowband (Microwave) or Broadband
Quasi-DC
Primary Coupling
Short Conductors (Circuit Boards, Wires)
Long Conductors (Power Lines, Pipelines)
Direct Illumination, Short Conductors
Long Conductors (Power Lines)
Primary Infrastructure Target
Microelectronics (Computers, SCADA, Comms)
EHV Transformers, Power Grid
Targeted Electronics (e.g., Radars, Data Centers)
EHV Transformers, Power Grid
Vulnerability Assessment of U.S. Critical National Infrastructure
The United States’ civilian infrastructure is profoundly and uniquely vulnerable to an EMP attack. The Congressional EMP Commission, after years of study, concluded that the protections common during the Cold War are now “almost completely absent” in the civilian sector.25 This vulnerability is not isolated to a single area but is systemic, rooted in the interconnected nature of the 16 critical infrastructure sectors defined by the Department of Homeland Security. The failure of one foundational infrastructure—the electric power grid—would trigger a rapid, cascading collapse across all others, leading to a national catastrophe.3
The Electric Power Grid: The Linchpin of Modern Society
The electric power grid is the single most critical infrastructure in the United States. Its collapse is the primary catastrophic outcome of a widespread EMP event because all other infrastructures—telecommunications, finance, water, food, transportation, and healthcare—are entirely dependent upon it.6 A society of nearly 330 million people is not structured to provide for its basic needs without electricity.26 While other infrastructures might suffer direct damage from an EMP, only the power grid faces the prospect of a nearly complete, long-term collapse from which recovery could take years.26
EHV Transformers: The Achilles’ Heel
The most acute vulnerability in the entire U.S. infrastructure lies within the nation’s fleet of extra-high-voltage (EHV) transformers.28 These massive, house-sized devices are the backbone of the bulk power transmission system. They are also uniquely susceptible to the low-frequency E3 component of a HEMP or a severe GMD.27 The quasi-DC currents induced by these events cause the transformers’ magnetic cores to saturate, leading to extreme internal heating that can physically melt windings and destroy the unit in as little as 90 seconds, as was observed in the 1989 Quebec blackout.17
This physical vulnerability is compounded by a catastrophic logistical problem. EHV transformers are not mass-produced, off-the-shelf items. They are custom-built, weigh hundreds of tons, and have manufacturing and delivery lead times of 12 to 18 months or longer.28 Critically, there are no domestic manufacturers for the largest EHV transformers, meaning they must be sourced from overseas competitors like Germany or South Korea.28 The United States maintains an insufficient stockpile of spares, and a single HEMP event could destroy hundreds of these transformers simultaneously.27 This creates a “Recovery Paradox”: the nation’s ability to recover from a grid collapse depends on manufacturing and transporting replacements, an industrial and logistical feat that is itself impossible without a functioning power grid and global supply chain. This feedback loop means that a large-scale loss of EHV transformers would not be a temporary blackout but a potential decade-long societal shutdown. A 2008 study presented to the National Academies estimated a recovery time of 4 to 10 years and a direct economic cost of $1 to $2 trillion for such an event.27
SCADA Systems
Compounding the physical destruction of the grid’s “muscle” is the vulnerability of its “brain.” The Supervisory Control and Data Acquisition (SCADA) systems that utilities use to monitor and control the flow of power are complex networks of computers, sensors, and communication links.6 These systems are composed of modern, solid-state electronics that are highly susceptible to the fast, high-frequency E1 pulse. The destruction of SCADA systems would leave grid operators blind and unable to manage the grid, assess damage, or coordinate restoration efforts, greatly complicating any recovery attempt.6
Telecommunications and Information Networks
The telecommunications infrastructure, the nation’s nervous system, is equally vulnerable, primarily through its dependence on the electric grid. This creates the “Illusion of Resilience,” where many critical facilities believe they are protected by backup power systems. While data centers, central switching offices, and cellular towers are often equipped with diesel generators and battery backups, this resilience is measured in hours or days, not the years that would be required for grid recovery.26 The fuel for these generators is delivered by a supply chain that requires electricity for refineries, pipelines, and transport. This chain would break within days of a grid collapse, rendering the backup systems useless and exposing the true fragility of the communications network.
The Fiber Optic Paradox
It is a common misconception that the widespread use of fiber-optic cables has made telecommunications networks immune to EMP. While the glass fibers themselves are not conductive and are therefore unaffected by electromagnetic fields, the network as a whole is not immune.21 A long-haul fiber-optic cable requires electronically powered repeaters and amplifiers every 40-60 miles to boost the signal. These devices, along with the routers and switches at network nodes, are filled with vulnerable microelectronics and are powered by the electric grid.15 Even armored fiber-optic cables, designed for underground use, often contain metallic strength members or shielding layers that can act as antennas, collecting EMP energy and channeling it into the connected electronic equipment.31 Therefore, while the data-carrying medium is robust, the supporting infrastructure that makes it function is highly fragile.
The Financial Sector
The modern financial system is not merely supported by electronics; it is electronics. All transactions, records, and market operations are digital. An EMP attack would represent an existential threat to the entire banking and finance infrastructure.32 The E1 pulse could cause direct damage to servers, routers, and data storage systems within financial institutions. This could lead to irreparable hardware destruction, system latch-up, and the corruption or erasure of magnetic storage media like backup tapes.32 While major data centers are often housed in physically secure facilities with robust backup power, they are rarely shielded against a direct EMP field and remain dependent on the long-term viability of the power grid and communications networks.26 The immediate paralysis of all electronic payments, ATM withdrawals, and market trading would be catastrophic. Perhaps more damaging in the long term would be the complete loss of public trust in the security and stability of financial institutions, a foundation upon which the entire economy is built.32
Interdependent Infrastructures and Cascading Failures
An EMP attack would not be a series of isolated failures but a single, systemic collapse. The mathematical principles of network theory apply: in a highly interconnected system, the failure of a critical node—the electric grid—will trigger a rapid, cascading failure across all dependent nodes.15
Transportation: Modern automobiles and trucks contain dozens of vulnerable microprocessors and electronic control units (ECUs) that manage everything from engine ignition and fuel injection to braking and transmission systems.9 A HEMP event would likely render a significant fraction of post-1980s vehicles inoperable, instantly paralyzing road transport.9 The failure of electronic traffic signal systems would create gridlock, and the collapse of the fuel distribution network would halt all remaining vehicles.
Water and Wastewater: Municipal water systems rely on electric pumps to maintain pressure and distribute water to homes and businesses. Wastewater treatment plants are similarly dependent on electricity for all their processes.2 The failure of these systems would lead to a rapid loss of access to safe drinking water and a complete breakdown of sanitation, creating the perfect conditions for a massive public health crisis and the spread of diseases like cholera and dysentery.35
Food and Healthcare: The U.S. food supply operates on a “just-in-time” logistics model with minimal reserves. The paralysis of transportation, the loss of refrigeration, and the shutdown of food processing plants would mean that grocery store shelves would be empty within days.36 Simultaneously, hospitals, filled with sophisticated electronic diagnostic and life-support equipment, would be rendered technologically inert. With limited backup power, they would be overwhelmed by the public health crisis and unable to provide anything beyond the most rudimentary care.37
Strategic Attack Scenarios: Analysis and Recovery
To operationalize the preceding vulnerability assessment, this section presents three plausible attack scenarios. These scenarios are designed to illustrate the different scales of the EMP threat, from a civilization-ending catastrophe to a targeted, strategic disruption. Each scenario is analyzed in terms of the weapon system, its likely impacts, the daunting road to recovery, and potential mitigation strategies.
Table 2: Summary of Strategic Attack Scenarios
Scenario
Impact Level
Weapon System
Delivery Method
Target Area
Scale of Infrastructure Impact
Scenario A
Catastrophic
Single High-Yield (1.4 MT) “Super-EMP” HEMP
Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM)
Continental United States (CONUS)
Total, nationwide collapse of all critical infrastructures
Scenario A (Catastrophic Impact): Coordinated HEMP Attack
This scenario represents the worst-case, existential threat to the United States.
Weapon & Delivery: A peer adversary, such as Russia or China, launches a single, high-yield (e.g., 1.4 Megaton) thermonuclear warhead specifically designed to maximize gamma ray output—a so-called “Super-EMP” weapon.25 The warhead is delivered via an ICBM and detonated at an optimal altitude of approximately 250 miles (400 km) over the geographic center of the country, such as Kansas.5 This attack vector is well within the known capabilities of several nations, who have reportedly integrated EMP attacks into their military doctrines as a means to defeat a technologically superior U.S. force.25
Impacts: The line-of-sight effects of the detonation would create an EMP field covering the entire continental United States, as well as parts of Canada and Mexico.9 The impact would be immediate and absolute.
Direct: The E1 pulse would instantly destroy or disrupt a significant fraction of all unhardened microelectronics nationwide. This includes computers, cell phones, SCADA systems, and the electronic controls in vehicles and aircraft. The E3 pulse would follow, inducing catastrophic GICs in the power grid, leading to the rapid, simultaneous destruction of hundreds of EHV transformers. This would trigger a cascading failure and complete collapse of all three major U.S. power interconnections (Eastern, Western, and ERCOT) within minutes.27
Cascading: The result would be a total, nationwide, and indefinite blackout. Every interdependent infrastructure described in Section 2.4 would fail systemically. Communications would revert to pre-industrial methods like runners and word-of-mouth, with limited connectivity from the small amateur radio community.35 The transportation network would cease to function. The water, food, and medical systems would collapse. The nation would be plunged into a pre-industrial existence but with a 21st-century population density and a near-total lack of relevant survival skills. The EMP Commission grimly warned that under such conditions, a majority of the U.S. population could perish within a year from starvation, disease, and the complete breakdown of social order.6
Road to Recovery: Recovery from this scenario would not be a matter of years, but of decades or generations. The primary impediment is the “Recovery Paradox” of the EHV transformers. The industrial capacity to build and transport hundreds of these massive devices would have been destroyed along with the grid itself. Recovery would depend on massive, sustained international aid, which may not be forthcoming given the global economic depression that would follow the collapse of the U.S. economy. The nation would have to be rebuilt from the ground up.
Mitigation: This catastrophic outcome can only be prevented through a pre-emptive, federally mandated, and funded national effort to harden the electric grid. This includes shielding all critical EHV transformers with technologies like neutral current blockers, deploying multi-stage E1/E2 protection devices on all SCADA and control systems, and establishing a large strategic reserve of spare EHV transformers.17
Scenario B (Likely/Regional Impact): Limited HEMP Attack by a Rogue State
This scenario outlines a more limited but still devastating attack, potentially executed by a rogue state or a state-sponsored terrorist organization.
Weapon & Delivery: An adversary with basic nuclear and missile capabilities, such as North Korea or a future nuclear-armed Iran, places a lower-yield nuclear weapon (10-20 kilotons) aboard a commercial freighter. Off the U.S. coast, the weapon is launched via a common short-range ballistic missile, like a Scud, and detonated at an altitude of 50-100 miles.5 This method of attack is particularly insidious because it could be executed with a degree of anonymity; a high-altitude burst leaves no bomb debris for forensic analysis, potentially allowing the perpetrator to escape immediate retaliation.5
Impacts: The effects would be confined to a regional footprint with a radius of several hundred miles, rather than continent-wide. A detonation 200 miles off the coast of Virginia, for example, could blanket the entire Eastern Seaboard from New England to the Carolinas, encompassing the nation’s political and financial capitals.
Direct: A regional grid collapse would ensue, plunging tens of millions of people into darkness. All unhardened electronics, communications, and transportation systems within the affected zone would fail.
Cascading: While the rest of the country would remain powered, it would be faced with a national emergency of unprecedented scale. The paralysis of Washington D.C., New York, and other major eastern cities would trigger an immediate and severe national economic crisis. A massive humanitarian crisis would unfold as millions of people trapped in the blackout zone attempt to flee, creating a refugee flow that would overwhelm neighboring states. The unaffected regions of the country would see their resources, from the National Guard to food and fuel supplies, stripped to support the massive relief and recovery effort.
Road to Recovery: The recovery of the affected region would be a multi-year national priority, likely taking 2-5 years. The EHV transformer bottleneck would still be the primary limiting factor, but the nation could, in theory, divert its entire stock of spares and prioritize new manufacturing for the stricken region. The effort would require a full-scale mobilization of federal resources, including FEMA and the Department of Defense, for security, logistics, and humanitarian aid on a scale never before seen.
Mitigation: In addition to the grid-hardening measures described in Scenario A, mitigation for this threat requires enhanced maritime and atmospheric surveillance to detect and interdict potential launch platforms before an attack can be executed. Furthermore, developing robust “black start” capabilities—the ability to restart isolated segments of the power grid independently without relying on the wider network—is critical for regional resilience.37
Scenario C (Tactical Impact): Coordinated NNEMP Attack
This scenario demonstrates the strategic use of non-nuclear weapons to achieve precise, debilitating effects without causing widespread destruction or loss of life.
Weapon & Delivery: A sophisticated adversary launches a coordinated swarm of 5 to 10 advanced cruise missiles equipped with NNEMP warheads (either HPM or FCG).4 The missiles could be launched from a submarine, long-range bomber, or even covert ground platforms, flying low to evade radar detection before striking their targets simultaneously.24
Targeting: The attack is surgical and not aimed at the general power grid. Instead, it targets a cluster of specific, high-value nodes within a single metropolitan area to achieve a strategic effect. A prime example would be a synchronized attack on the New York Stock Exchange, the NASDAQ data center in New Jersey, and the major clearinghouse banks in the Wall Street financial district. Other potential target sets include the data center clusters of Northern Virginia (the backbone of the internet), the port complex of Los Angeles/Long Beach (a critical national supply chain node), or a key military command and control facility.
Impacts:
Direct: The attack is non-kinetic and causes no direct fatalities. It does not trigger a widespread blackout. Instead, the targeted facilities are instantly transformed into “electronic deserts.” The intense microwave or radio-frequency pulses would induce currents that cause a “hard kill” on the unshielded electronics within the target buildings, destroying servers, routers, communication hubs, and data storage systems.21 The damage would be permanent, requiring the complete replacement of the affected hardware.21
Cascading: The immediate effect of an attack on Wall Street would be the complete paralysis of U.S. and global financial markets. The inability to access records, clear transactions, or execute trades would trigger a financial panic and economic crisis far more damaging than the physical cost of the destroyed equipment. The non-lethal, non-kinetic nature of the attack could create initial confusion, potentially being mistaken for a massive technical failure, which would delay a coherent national security response.
Road to Recovery: The recovery timeline would be measured in weeks to months. The primary challenge would not be grid reconstruction but the procurement and installation of highly specialized electronic equipment. An even greater challenge would be restoring domestic and international trust in the integrity and security of the U.S. financial system. The economic and psychological damage could be immense and long-lasting.
Mitigation: This highly targeted threat requires facility-level, not grid-level, hardening. Critical national infrastructure nodes—in finance, communications, and logistics—must be physically shielded. This involves constructing facilities that function as Faraday cages, using EMP-rated filters and surge protectors on all incoming power and data lines, and ensuring that all data connections entering or leaving the secure perimeter are fiber-optic to prevent conductive pathways for the pulse.9
U.S. Preparedness: A Tale of Two Efforts
The United States’ preparedness for an EMP attack is a study in contrasts, defined by a dangerous and growing disparity between strategic awareness and civilian vulnerability. Within the national security apparatus, the threat is well understood, and key military and governmental functions are protected. However, the vast civilian infrastructure that underpins the nation’s economy and the very survival of its population remains almost entirely exposed. This creates a strategic paradox where the government may be able to survive an attack but would be left to preside over a collapsed and non-functioning society.
The National Policy Framework: Awareness Without Action?
For over two decades, the U.S. government has been formally aware of the EMP threat, yet this awareness has not translated into meaningful, large-scale protective action for the civilian sector.
The EMP Commission: Established by Congress in 2001, the Commission to Assess the Threat to the United States from Electromagnetic Pulse Attack produced a series of authoritative, unclassified reports until it was disbanded in 2017.25 Its comprehensive work, involving top scientists and national security experts, unequivocally identified EMP as an existential threat and documented in detail the severe vulnerabilities of the nation’s critical infrastructures.42 The Commission’s core finding was stark: the civilian electric grid is the nation’s Achilles’ heel, and its collapse would be catastrophic.26 Despite its repeated and urgent warnings, the Commission’s recommendations for hardening were largely ignored.
Executive Order 13865: In March 2019, the threat was officially codified at the highest level with the signing of Executive Order 13865, “Coordinating National Resilience to Electromagnetic Pulses”.7 This order designated EMP as a national security threat and tasked the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), through its Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA), with leading a coordinated federal effort to improve resilience.7 The policy established three primary goals: improve risk awareness, enhance protection capabilities, and promote effective response and recovery efforts.7
The Policy-Action Gap: Despite the work of the EMP Commission and the issuance of a formal Executive Order, tangible progress on hardening the civilian grid remains minimal.6 The federal approach has been one of publishing voluntary guidelines, promoting information sharing, and encouraging public-private partnerships.7 This strategy has failed because of a fundamental misalignment of incentives. Private utility companies are primarily responsible to shareholders and are regulated by commissions that prioritize low consumer electricity rates. Investing billions of dollars to mitigate a low-probability, high-consequence event like EMP offers no short-term return on investment and would necessitate politically unpopular rate hikes.29 Without a federal mandate that either compels the expenditure or provides the funding, the economic and political incentives for private infrastructure owners are strongly aligned with inaction, leaving the nation’s most critical lifeline perilously exposed.
Current State of Readiness: A Dangerous Disparity
The current state of U.S. EMP readiness is dangerously bifurcated. Protections are in place for the continuity of the government, but not for the continuity of society.
Military and Government Hardening: A legacy of Cold War planning, key strategic military assets are hardened against EMP. This includes nuclear command, control, and communications (NC3) systems, strategic bomber and missile forces, and critical facilities like NORAD’s Cheyenne Mountain Complex.34 Likewise, continuity-of-government (COG) facilities and transportation assets, such as Air Force One, are shielded to ensure that the national command authority can survive an attack and direct the military response.29
Civilian Vulnerability: This military hardening exists in a vacuum of civilian vulnerability. The very society and industrial base that these military forces are meant to protect are completely soft targets.25 The U.S. Air Force, for example, is inextricably dependent on the civilian power grid and communications networks to operate its domestic bases.34 This creates a “Hollow Government” scenario: in the aftermath of a HEMP attack, the President may be able to issue orders from a hardened command post, but there will be no functioning civilian economy, no industrial base to mobilize, no transportation network to move resources, and no informed populace to direct. The government would survive as a hollowed-out entity, isolated from and unable to assist the collapsed nation it is meant to lead.
The Verdict: What We Are Ready For vs. What We Are Not
A candid assessment of the nation’s readiness reveals a clear and alarming picture.
Ready For: The United States is prepared, at a strategic command level, to withstand an EMP attack. The government can likely maintain continuity and control over its nuclear deterrent and other strategic military forces. There is a high degree of threat awareness and a solid policy framework within the national security community.
Not Ready For: The United States is catastrophically unprepared for the societal consequences of an EMP attack. The nation is not ready for a long-term, nationwide power outage and the subsequent, inevitable collapse of all life-sustaining critical services. We are not ready to feed, water, or provide medical care for our population in a post-EMP environment. The current “bottom-up” strategy, which relies on the voluntary and economically disincentivized actions of private infrastructure owners, has proven to be a failure and has left the American people unacceptably vulnerable to what is arguably the single greatest threat to their survival and way of life.6
A National Resilience Strategy: Recommendations for Action
Addressing the profound threat of EMP requires a fundamental shift from a strategy of awareness and voluntary guidance to one of decisive, coordinated action. True national resilience cannot be achieved through half-measures. It demands a multi-layered approach that combines top-down federal mandates for critical infrastructure with bottom-up preparedness at the community and individual levels. The following recommendations provide a framework for such a strategy.
National-Level Mitigation
The federal government must lead this effort with the urgency the threat demands. The reliance on market forces and voluntary measures has failed; legislative and executive action is now required.
Mandate and Fund Grid Hardening: Congress must pass binding legislation, such as the long-proposed SHIELD Act, that directs the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) to implement mandatory standards for EMP and GMD protection of the bulk electric grid.25 These standards must, at a minimum, require the installation of proven protective technologies, such as neutral current blockers or Faraday cage-like shielding for all EHV transformers, and the deployment of multi-stage, fast-acting surge protection devices on all critical SCADA and control systems.17 To overcome the economic disincentives, this mandate should be paired with a federal cost-sharing program or tax incentives to assist utilities with the capital investment.
Establish a Strategic Transformer Reserve: The Department of Energy, in partnership with DHS, should be directed and funded to establish a national Strategic Transformer Reserve. This would involve procuring and strategically stockpiling a sufficient number of spare EHV transformers and other critical long-lead-time grid components. This reserve is the only practical way to break the “Recovery Paradox” and enable a grid restoration timeline measured in months rather than many years.
Invest in Resilient Grid Technologies: Federal research and development funding should be prioritized for next-generation grid technologies that are inherently more resilient to EMP. This includes funding for the development and deployment of hardened microgrids that can “island” from the main grid to power critical local facilities, as well as research into solid-state transformers, which are less vulnerable to GIC effects than traditional designs.37
Restructure Public-Private Partnerships: The role of CISA should be elevated from an advisory and information-sharing body to a central planning and operational coordination hub for infrastructure protection.7 This should involve conducting mandatory, integrated vulnerability assessments with private sector owners and developing joint, actionable plans for hardening critical nodes across all 16 infrastructure sectors.
Community and Individual Preparedness
In the event of a catastrophic HEMP attack, federal and state assistance may be unavailable for an extended period. Survival and recovery will therefore depend heavily on the resilience and preparedness of local communities and individual citizens.
State and Local Government Actions
Promote and Protect Local Microgrids: State and municipal governments should identify critical local facilities—such as hospitals, water treatment plants, emergency operations centers, and food distribution hubs—and incentivize the development of EMP-protected microgrids to ensure their continued operation during a prolonged blackout.35
Establish Community Stockpiles: Local emergency management agencies should plan for and maintain strategic stockpiles of essential resources, including fuel for emergency vehicles and generators, non-perishable food, and medical supplies, sufficient to sustain the community for at least 30-90 days.35
Integrate EMP into Emergency Planning: EMP and long-term grid-down scenarios must be incorporated into all state and local emergency preparedness plans, training, and exercises.35 This will ensure that first responders and community leaders are prepared to operate in an environment without power, communications, or modern technology.
Individual and Family Preparedness
Build a Comprehensive Emergency Kit: Every household must take responsibility for its own immediate survival. This requires building and maintaining a disaster kit with a minimum of 30 days of essential supplies, including non-perishable food, a method to purify water (at least one gallon per person per day), all necessary medications, and a robust first-aid kit.5
Protect Critical Personal Electronics: Individuals can safeguard small, vital electronic devices by storing them in a makeshift Faraday cage. This can be constructed from a conductive metal container, such as a galvanized steel trash can or a military surplus ammo can, with the electronics placed inside a non-conductive inner box (e.g., cardboard) to prevent contact with the metal shell. Multiple nested layers of shielding (e.g., wrapping a device in aluminum foil, placing it in a box, and then wrapping the box in more foil) can also be effective.48 Key items to protect include a battery-powered or hand-crank shortwave radio for receiving information, a small solar charger, and a USB drive containing copies of important personal documents.
Develop a Resilient Family Plan: Families must develop and practice an emergency plan that does not rely on modern technology.52 This should include pre-determined rally points, non-electronic communication methods, and a plan for shelter. Acquiring practical skills such as basic first aid, gardening and food preservation, and manual tool use will be invaluable.
Foster Community Alliances: In a prolonged societal collapse, the most resilient unit will not be the isolated individual but the organized community. Building strong relationships with neighbors and forming community alliances for mutual security, resource pooling, and problem-solving is one of the most critical preparedness steps an individual can take.47
Table 3: Multi-Level Mitigation and Preparedness Framework
Stakeholder Level
Pre-Event Mitigation (Hardening & Stockpiling)
Immediate Response (First 72 Hours)
Long-Term Recovery (Post-72 Hours)
Federal Government
Mandate & fund grid hardening (EHV transformers, SCADA). Establish Strategic Transformer Reserve. Fund R&D in resilient grid tech.
Maintain continuity of government (COG). Command & control strategic military assets. Assess nationwide damage via hardened assets.
Coordinate international aid. Manage Strategic Transformer Reserve deployment. Prioritize restoration of critical national infrastructure.
State & Local Government
Develop EMP-protected microgrids for critical facilities. Maintain community stockpiles of fuel, food, water. Integrate EMP into all emergency plans & exercises.
Activate Emergency Operations Centers (on backup power). Establish public information points (non-electronic). Secure critical infrastructure (water plants, hospitals).
Manage local resource distribution. Coordinate volunteer and mutual aid groups. Facilitate phased restoration of local services.
Execute damage assessment protocols. Isolate damaged grid sections to prevent cascading. Attempt to establish “islands” of power around critical loads.
Coordinate with government on restoration priorities. Manage repair/replacement of damaged equipment. Re-establish network connectivity incrementally.
Individuals & Families
Assemble 30+ day supply kit (food, water, medicine). Protect vital small electronics in a Faraday cage. Develop a tech-free family emergency plan.
Shelter in place; assess immediate safety. Conserve resources (water, food, fuel). Establish contact with neighbors for mutual support.
Implement long-term survival skills (water purification, food production). Participate in community security & organization. Assist in local recovery efforts.
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Commission to Assess the Threat to the United States from Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP) Attack, accessed September 28, 2025, https://www.empcommission.org/
The fundamental nature of conflict as a political instrument, a violent means to compel an adversary to fulfill one’s will, remains an immutable feature of international relations. Yet, over the past 50 years, the character of this conflict—the domains in which it is fought, the tools employed, and the very definitions of victory and defeat—has undergone a radical transformation. The global strategic landscape has shifted from a state of episodic, declared wars, punctuated by periods of discernible peace, to a condition of persistent, undeclared, multi-domain competition. The clear delineation between war and peace has not merely blurred; it has been deliberately eroded and is now actively exploited as a domain of strategic ambiguity.1
This report analyzes this fundamental evolution in the character of conflict. It begins by establishing a strategic baseline circa 1975, a world defined by the bipolar certainty of the Cold War. In that era, the existential threat of a massive conventional and nuclear exchange between two superpowers paradoxically forced competition into the shadows, creating and refining the playbook for today’s hybrid conflicts. The analysis then traces the profound technological and doctrinal shifts of the post-Cold War era, marked by the “Revolution in Military Affairs” (RMA), which cemented U.S. conventional military dominance but also accelerated the turn toward asymmetric strategies by its rivals.
Finally, the report examines the current state of international competition, arguing that the major powers are already engaged in a form of “undocumented conflict.” This conflict is waged continuously across new and expanded domains—economic, cyber, and informational—and is increasingly shaped by emerging technologies, most notably artificial intelligence (AI). The ultimate battlefield has expanded from physical territory to encompass critical infrastructure, financial systems, and the cognitive domain of public perception itself. The central challenge for national security in the 21st century is no longer simply preparing for a future war, but navigating the unending conflict that is already here.
Section I: The Cold War Baseline – A World of Bipolar Certainty (c. 1975)
Fifty years ago, the strategic environment was defined by a stark, bipolar clarity. The world was divided into two ideological blocs, led by the United States and the Soviet Union, locked in a competition underwritten by the threat of global thermonuclear war.5 This overarching threat of Mutually Assured Destruction created a paradoxical stability at the strategic level. While it made direct, large-scale conventional war between the superpowers unthinkable, it did not eliminate conflict. Instead, it channeled geopolitical competition into deniable, indirect, and asymmetric arenas, creating an incubator for the hybrid methods that define the modern era.
The Conventional Battlefield – The Fulda Gap and the North German Plain
The central front of the Cold War was Europe, where two of the most powerful military alliances in history stood poised for a cataclysmic conventional battle. Military doctrine and force posture on both sides were overwhelmingly focused on this potential high-intensity conflict.
NATO’s strategy was formally codified in 1967 as “Flexible Response.” This doctrine moved away from the previous policy of “Massive Retaliation” and envisioned a tiered response to Warsaw Pact aggression. An attack would be met first with a direct conventional defense, followed by the deliberate and controlled escalation to tactical, and finally strategic, nuclear weapons if necessary.6 The goal was to possess a credible deterrent at every level of the escalatory ladder. NATO’s planning called for its forces to be capable of sustaining a conventional defense in Central Europe for approximately 90 days against a full-scale invasion, allowing time for political negotiation or the decision to escalate.6 However, a sense of unreality pervaded these preparations; while doctrine called for a seamless transition from conventional to nuclear operations, all practical attempts to devise tactics for actually fighting and winning on a nuclear battlefield had proven futile.8
The Warsaw Pact, guided by Soviet military thought, held a fundamentally offensive-oriented doctrine. Soviet theorists believed that the defensive was an inherently weaker form of warfare and that decisive victory could only be achieved through the offense.9 Their plans were officially framed as a massive “counterattack” that would follow the repulse of an initial NATO assault. This offensive would depend on the overwhelming numerical superiority of Soviet-style forces, particularly their vast tank armies, to break through NATO lines along axes like the Fulda Gap and the North German Plain and rapidly advance deep into Western Europe.9 In 1975, the Warsaw Pact enjoyed a considerable numerical advantage in Central Europe, particularly in tanks and artillery, and held the geostrategic advantage of “interior lines,” which allowed for the rapid transfer of forces between fronts.10
This doctrinal standoff fueled an intense technological arms race in conventional weaponry. The mid-1970s saw the introduction of a new generation of military hardware. Tanks were upgraded with stabilized turrets and electronic fire controls, while armored personnel carriers evolved into heavier infantry fighting vehicles from which troops could fight.8 The development of potent anti-tank guided missiles (ATGMs) forced armored divisions to adopt closer cooperation between tanks and infantry.8 Armies on both sides became increasingly motorized and mechanized. This period also saw the first significant use of remotely piloted vehicles (RPVs), or drones, for surveillance and target acquisition, and the maturation of the attack helicopter as a dedicated “tank-busting” platform, a lesson learned from its massive use in Vietnam.8 This unprecedented faith in technology led to a battlefield where the number and quality of electronic systems became a primary index of an army’s modernity.8 For the U.S. Army, this era was one of doctrinal ferment, with its focus shifting cyclically between conventional warfare in Europe, the specter of nuclear conflict, and the immediate lessons of counterinsurgency in Vietnam, resulting in a tactical doctrine more complex than at any other point in its history.12
The Shadow War – Proxy Conflicts and Clandestine Operations
While the armies in Europe planned for a war that never came, the actual superpower conflict was being fought—brutally and continuously—in the shadows and across the developing world. The high risk of nuclear escalation made direct confrontation too dangerous, turning proxy wars and clandestine operations into the primary instruments of geopolitical competition.14
Proxy wars were the main event of the Cold War, accounting for an estimated 20 million deaths, almost all of which occurred in the “Third World”.14 These conflicts were ostensibly local or regional disputes, but they became battlegrounds for the larger ideological struggle between capitalism and communism.16 The superpowers avoided direct military clashes but fueled the fighting by providing massive amounts of funding, weaponry, training, and political backing to their respective surrogate forces.14 The Vietnam War, which saw the United States supporting South Vietnam against the Soviet- and Chinese-backed North, was the most devastating example.5 Other major proxy conflicts of the era included the Angolan Civil War, where the Soviet Union and Cuba backed the MPLA against U.S.-supported factions 18, and the Ogaden War, where the superpowers switched allegiances, with the Soviets ultimately backing Ethiopia against U.S.-supported Somalia.21 These interventions allowed the superpowers to test strategies and military hardware while avoiding a direct “hot war,” but they left a legacy of devastation and long-term instability in the regions where they were fought.16
Parallel to these overt-by-proxy conflicts was a relentless, clandestine war fought by the intelligence agencies of both blocs. The CIA and the KGB engaged in a global struggle for influence through espionage, subversion, and covert action. The CIA’s activities included political subversion, such as providing financial support to officers plotting against Chile’s Salvador Allende before the 1973 coup, and paramilitary operations, such as arming and training mujahideen guerrillas in Afghanistan in the following decade.23 The agency also engaged in numerous, and often bizarre, assassination plots against figures like Fidel Castro.23 Espionage was rampant, with both sides dedicating immense resources to stealing military-industrial secrets and recruiting high-level agents within the other’s government and intelligence services.23 The KGB was notoriously effective in this domain, having infiltrated Western intelligence agencies to the point where the CIA was often “utterly ignorant of Soviet espionage operations” against it.25
The KGB, for its part, conducted what it termed “executive actions” or “wet work” (liquidations) through its secretive 13th Department.26 These operations targeted defectors, dissidents, and other “ideological opponents” abroad with the aim of silencing anti-Soviet voices and sowing fear within émigré communities.26 To maintain plausible deniability, the KGB often employed exotic methods, such as the ricin-filled pellet fired from a modified umbrella used to kill Bulgarian dissident Georgi Markov in London in 1978, and frequently relied on the intelligence services of allied Eastern Bloc nations to carry out the “dirty work”.26 In Africa, Soviet clandestine operations were particularly large-scale, as the KGB and GRU (military intelligence) worked to counter U.S. influence, supply arms to anti-government groups, and exploit the relatively weak capabilities of local security services to establish intelligence networks.27
This history reveals a significant divergence between the war that was being planned for and the war that was actually being waged. While the formal military doctrines of both NATO and the Warsaw Pact were fixated on a decisive, large-scale conventional battle in Europe, the true character of superpower conflict was predominantly irregular, clandestine, and fought through third parties. This created a deep reservoir of institutional knowledge and operational expertise in unconventional warfare, political subversion, and deniable operations within the intelligence and special operations communities. This expertise, developed in the shadows of the Cold War, would prove highly relevant in the multipolar, ambiguous security environment that followed.
Section II: The Technological Rupture – The Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA)
Beginning in the 1970s and accelerating dramatically after the end of the Cold War, a suite of new technologies catalyzed a fundamental shift in the conduct of conventional warfare. This “Revolution in Military Affairs” (RMA) was characterized by the integration of advanced surveillance, precision-guided weaponry, and networked command and control, creating an era of unparalleled U.S. military dominance.31 However, this very dominance had a profound and unintended consequence: it rendered symmetrical, conventional warfare an untenable option for potential adversaries, thereby accelerating their pivot toward the asymmetric and hybrid methods that now define the contemporary conflict landscape.
The Dawn of Precision and Stealth
Two technologies in particular formed the core of the RMA: precision-guided munitions and stealth.
Precision-Guided Munitions (PGMs), or “smart bombs,” fundamentally altered the calculus of air power. The ability to guide a weapon to its target with a high degree of accuracy represented a quantum leap in lethality and efficiency.33 During the Vietnam War, PGMs proved to be up to 100 times more effective than their unguided “dumb bomb” counterparts.35 This was starkly illustrated by the destruction of the Thanh Hoa Bridge in North Vietnam in 1972. The bridge, a critical supply line, had withstood hundreds of sorties and the loss of numerous aircraft over several years of conventional bombing, but was finally dropped by a small number of aircraft using laser-guided bombs.33 The 1991 Persian Gulf War served as the global debut for this capability on a massive scale. Coalition forces demonstrated that PGMs could destroy Iraqi armored vehicles with pinpoint accuracy in a process pilots dubbed “tank plinking”.33 Overall, while guided munitions accounted for only 9% of the total ordnance used in the war, they were responsible for 75% of all successful hits, proving 35 times more likely to destroy their target per weapon dropped than unguided bombs.33 This shifted the logic of bombing from achieving effects through mass to achieving them through precision.34
Stealth Technology provided the means to deliver these precision weapons by rendering aircraft nearly invisible to enemy radar. Platforms like the F-117 Nighthawk and the B-2 Spirit bomber were designed with faceted shapes and coated in radar-absorbent materials to reduce their radar cross-section (RCS) by several orders of magnitude.37 This innovation effectively negated decades of investment by adversaries in sophisticated integrated air defense systems.39 Like PGMs, stealth technology had its coming-out party during the Gulf War. F-117s flew with impunity over Baghdad, one of the most heavily defended cities in the world at the time, and decimated critical Iraqi command and control nodes, air defense sites, and other high-value targets. No stealth aircraft were lost in the conflict.39
The true power of the RMA, however, lay not in these individual technologies but in their integration into a networked “System of Systems”.40 This concept linked intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) platforms—such as satellites, spy planes, and drones—with command, control, and communications (C3) networks and precision-strike assets.31 This synergy created a virtuous cycle: ISR assets could find a target, the network could rapidly transmit that information to a decision-maker and a shooter, and a precision weapon could destroy the target with high probability. This integration of technology, doctrine, and organization produced a dramatic increase in military effectiveness.31
Doctrinal Transformation and Asymmetric Consequences
This technological revolution was accompanied by a doctrinal one within the U.S. military. Reeling from the experience in Vietnam and absorbing the lessons of the 1973 Yom Kippur War—where modern ATGMs and surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) inflicted heavy losses on Israeli armor and aircraft—the U.S. Army undertook a profound intellectual reassessment.41
In 1976, the Army published Field Manual 100-5, Operations, which codified a new doctrine known as “Active Defense”.44 This doctrine was a radical departure from previous thinking, focusing almost exclusively on a high-intensity, conventional battle against the Soviet Union in Europe.44 It was heavily focused on firepower, emphasizing the need to “win the first battle of the next war” by attriting the numerically superior Warsaw Pact forces with technologically advanced weaponry.45 Active Defense was controversial, however, and criticized for being too defensive and ceding the initiative to the enemy.41
This critique led to another doctrinal evolution. In 1982, the Army released a new version of FM 100-5 that introduced the concept of AirLand Battle.41 This doctrine was more aggressive and maneuver-oriented, designed specifically to defeat the Soviet operational concept of echeloned attacks.43 AirLand Battle envisioned an “extended battlefield” where U.S. forces would not just defend against the enemy’s front-line troops but would use integrated air power and long-range fires to attack and disrupt their follow-on echelons, command posts, and logistics deep in the rear.42 This required unprecedented levels of cooperation between the Army and the Air Force and was a perfect doctrinal match for the emerging technologies of the RMA.48
The stunning success of this new American way of war in the 1991 Gulf War had a chilling effect on potential adversaries. It became clear that challenging the United States in a conventional, state-on-state conflict was a recipe for swift and certain defeat. This reality, however, did not lead to a more peaceful world. Instead, it created a “compelling logic for states and non-state actors to move out of the traditional mode of war”.51 Unable to compete symmetrically, adversaries were forced to invest in asymmetric capabilities and strategies that could bypass or neutralize U.S. technological strengths.32 This strategic adaptation accelerated the global shift toward the very hybrid, irregular, and grey-zone methods that had been practiced during the Cold War. The RMA, in effect, made conventional war obsolete for most actors, thereby making unconventional conflict the new norm. The U.S. military had perfected a doctrine for fighting a specific adversary in a specific way, just as that adversary collapsed and the fundamental character of conflict was shifting beneath its feet.
Section III: The Expanded Battlefield – Hybrid Actors in New Domains
The end of the Cold War and the subsequent era of U.S. conventional military primacy did not end great power competition; it merely displaced it. Conflict migrated from the physical battlefield into non-physical and previously non-militarized domains. We have entered a state of persistent, low-level conflict where the distinction between peace and war is not simply blurred but is actively manipulated as a strategic tool. Adversaries now operate in a “grey zone,” employing hybrid methods to achieve strategic objectives without crossing the threshold of overt warfare.
The New Domains of Contestation
The modern battlefield is no longer confined to land, sea, and air. It has expanded to encompass the global economic system, digital networks, and the critical infrastructure that underpins modern society.
Economic Warfare has evolved into a primary instrument of statecraft, a sophisticated method of coercion that leverages global interdependence as a weapon.52 The “weaponization of finance” allows states, particularly the United States with its control over the global dollar-based financial system, to “cripple [countries] financially” through targeted sanctions against individuals, companies, and entire sectors of an economy.52 The unprecedented sanctions imposed on Russia following its 2022 invasion of Ukraine, which froze central bank assets and cut off major banks from international payment systems, demonstrate the power of this tool.56 Similarly, the “weaponization of trade” involves using tariffs, embargoes, and regulatory barriers to induce policy changes in a target state by exploiting economic dependencies.53 China’s campaign of economic coercion against Australia, which targeted key exports like wine, barley, and coal after Australia called for an inquiry into the origins of COVID-19, is a prime example of this strategy in action.59 Russia has also long used its position as a major energy supplier to Europe as a tool of political leverage, manipulating gas prices and threatening supply cutoffs to achieve foreign policy goals.62 This trend transforms economic interdependence from a source of mutual benefit into a critical vulnerability.55
Cyber Warfare has matured from a tool of espionage into a distinct domain of military operations. The watershed moment was the 2010 Stuxnet attack, a highly sophisticated computer worm believed to be a joint U.S.-Israeli operation. Stuxnet infiltrated Iran’s Natanz nuclear facility and caused physical damage to its uranium enrichment centrifuges, demonstrating for the first time that malicious code could produce kinetic effects.67 Since then, state-sponsored cyber operations have become commonplace. Advanced Persistent Threat (APT) groups linked to the governments of China, Russia, Iran, and North Korea now routinely conduct campaigns against adversaries.71 Their objectives range from espionage and intellectual property theft to prepositioning for future disruptive attacks on critical infrastructure, including telecommunications, energy grids, and transportation networks.74
Critical Infrastructure has become a new front line. The physical systems that support the global economy and information flow are now considered legitimate targets for grey-zone aggression. Undersea cables, which carry an estimated 99% of all transoceanic digital communications and trillions of dollars in financial transactions daily, are a point of extreme vulnerability.78 This vast network is susceptible to damage from both accidental causes, like fishing trawlers and dragging anchors, and deliberate sabotage.80 State actors, particularly Russia, are developing the capabilities to target these cables. Russia’s Main Directorate for Deep-Water Research (GUGI) operates specialized submarines and surface vessels, such as the
Yantar, which are equipped for deep-sea operations and have been observed loitering near critical cable routes.78 Recent incidents in the Baltic Sea, where data cables and a gas pipeline were damaged by a Chinese-flagged vessel dragging its anchor, have heightened concerns about coordinated hybrid attacks.83 The key strategic advantage of such attacks is the challenge of attribution. It is exceptionally difficult to prove that a cable cut by a commercial vessel was an intentional act of state-sponsored sabotage rather than an accident, providing the aggressor with plausible deniability and complicating any response by NATO or other targeted nations.78
The Doctrine of Ambiguity – Hybrid and Grey-Zone Warfare
To describe this new era of persistent, ambiguous conflict, analysts have developed two interrelated concepts: grey-zone conflict and hybrid warfare.
The Grey Zone is the conceptual space in which this competition occurs. It is defined by the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) as “the contested arena somewhere between routine statecraft and open warfare”.86 It is a realm of coercive and subversive activity deliberately designed to remain below the threshold that would provoke a conventional military response.1 In this space, revisionist powers like Russia and China use a range of non-military and quasi-military tools—including information operations, political and economic coercion, cyber operations, and the use of proxies—to gradually achieve strategic gains and weaken adversaries without triggering a full-scale war.86
Hybrid Warfare is the methodology employed within the grey zone. It is not a new form of warfare, but rather the integrated and synchronized application of multiple instruments of power—conventional and unconventional, military and non-military, overt and covert—in a unified campaign to achieve a strategic objective.89 Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and subsequent intervention in the Donbas region of Ukraine is the archetypal modern example. This operation seamlessly blended the use of deniable special forces (“little green men”), local proxy militias, economic pressure, cyberattacks, and a sophisticated, multi-platform disinformation campaign to achieve its goals before the West could formulate a coherent response.51
This environment has also transformed the nature of Proxy Warfare. The Cold War model of two superpowers manipulating client states has been replaced by a far more complex, multipolar system.96 Today’s sponsors include not only great powers but also ambitious regional actors like Iran, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and the UAE. The proxies themselves are no longer just state armies but a diverse ecosystem of non-state actors, including militias, transnational terrorist groups, private military companies, and political movements, many with their own ideologies and agendas that may diverge from those of their sponsors.96 The proliferation of advanced technology, from anti-tank missiles to armed drones and secure communications, has made these proxy forces more lethal and capable than ever before.101 Modern proxy battlefields, such as the Syrian civil war, are characterized by a dizzying array of local and international actors, with multiple sponsors backing various factions, creating a complex and brutal multi-sided conflict.14 Iran’s long-standing support for Hezbollah is a prime example of a modern proxy relationship, where financial aid, weapons, and training have cultivated a formidable non-state actor that serves as a key instrument of Iranian foreign policy.106
The defining trend of this new era is the normalization of hostile acts. Actions that would have once been considered casus belli—such as sabotage of critical national infrastructure, systemic economic coercion, or major cyberattacks against government and industry—are now treated as features of routine international competition. This has shifted the nature of conflict from an episodic state of declared war to a persistent condition of undeclared competition. In this grey zone, ambiguity is not a byproduct of conflict; it is a central objective and a strategic weapon. The ability to conduct a hostile act while making attribution difficult or impossible paralyzes the victim’s decision-making process and allows the aggressor to act with a degree of impunity.
Feature
United States / West
Russian Federation
People’s Republic of China
Doctrine Name
Grey-Zone / Hybrid Warfare Response
New Generation Warfare / Gerasimov Doctrine
Three Warfares / Systems Destruction Warfare
Primary Objective
Maintain status quo; deter/counter aggression; manage escalation
Revise post-Cold War order; re-establish sphere of influence; destabilize adversaries
Primarily a deterrent and response force; kinetic action is a last resort, often through SOF or proxies
Concealed military means supplement non-military efforts; special forces (Spetsnaz) and conventional forces are used for intimidation and decisive action
Military presence (PLA) creates physical leverage; used for intimidation and coercion (grey-zone tactics); prepared for decisive conventional action if necessary
Role of Information
Reactive; focus on countering disinformation and attribution
Central; aims to alter consciousness, create domestic chaos in target state, and achieve “information superiority” before kinetic action
Foundational; aims to control the narrative, shape domestic and international opinion, demoralize the adversary, and legitimize CCP actions
Sources
86
89
111
Section IV: The Cognitive Domain – The Battle for Perception
Perhaps the most fundamental transformation in the character of conflict over the past half-century has been the elevation of the human mind and collective public perception as a primary, and often decisive, battlefield. The strategic objective is increasingly not to defeat an enemy’s military forces, but to erode their society’s cohesion, paralyze their political will, and manipulate their very understanding of reality. This is narrative warfare, and its tools have evolved from state-controlled broadcast media to a global, AI-powered, social media-driven disinformation engine.
The Weaponization of Media and Social Media
The power of modern media to shape conflict was evident throughout the late 20th century, but the rise of the internet and social media in the 21st century created a new paradigm.
The Arab Spring, beginning in late 2010, was the first major geopolitical event to showcase the power of social media as a tool for political mobilization. Activists across Tunisia, Egypt, and other nations used platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube to organize protests, share information about government brutality, and bypass state-controlled media censorship to broadcast their message to a global audience.115 In Egypt, the “We Are All Khaled Said” Facebook page became a rallying point for a movement that ultimately toppled a decades-old regime.117 This demonstrated the potential for these new platforms to empower organic, bottom-up movements and challenge authoritarian control.120
However, state actors quickly recognized the power of these tools and began to co-opt them for their own purposes, leading to the industrialization of influence operations. The most prominent example is Russia’s Internet Research Agency (IRA), a state-sponsored “troll farm” dedicated to conducting online influence operations.121 The IRA’s tactics, revealed in detail following its interference in the 2016 U.S. presidential election, involve a sophisticated, multi-layered approach. Operators create and manage vast networks of fake social media accounts, or “bots,” designed to impersonate real citizens.122 These accounts are used to amplify divisive narratives, spread disinformation, and infiltrate online communities on both the political left and right, with the overarching goal of exacerbating existing social divisions and eroding trust in democratic institutions.123 The IRA’s methods include “narrative switching,” where accounts post non-political content most of the time to build a credible persona before injecting targeted political messages, and organizing real-world events, such as opposing protests, to bring online division into the physical world.122
This weaponization of information is not merely opportunistic; it is now a core component of state military doctrine. China’s concept of the “Three Warfares” explicitly codifies this approach. It includes “public opinion warfare” to dominate narratives and ensure domestic and international support, “psychological warfare” to demoralize an adversary and weaken their will to fight, and “legal warfare” (lawfare) to use international and domestic law to challenge the legitimacy of an opponent’s actions.114 Similarly, Russia’s doctrine of
“New Generation Warfare” (often associated with General Valery Gerasimov) views “information-psychological warfare” as a critical tool for achieving strategic goals by creating domestic chaos within a target state, often before any military action is taken.3 The Syrian Civil War serves as a stark case study of this new reality, where a brutal physical conflict has been accompanied by a relentless narrative war waged by all factions—the Assad regime, various rebel groups, and their respective foreign backers (including Russia, Iran, and Western powers)—each using traditional and social media to frame the conflict, legitimize their actions, and demonize their opponents.125
The AI-Powered Disinformation Engine
If social media provided the platform for modern information warfare, artificial intelligence is now providing the engine, promising to “supercharge” disinformation campaigns by dramatically increasing their speed, scale, and sophistication.130
The most alarming development is the rise of deepfakes and other forms of synthetic media. Using advanced AI techniques like generative adversarial networks (GANs), malicious actors can now create highly realistic but entirely fabricated audio and video content.132 This technology makes it possible to convincingly impersonate political leaders, military officials, or other public figures, having them appear to say or do things they never did.134 The national security implications are profound. A well-timed deepfake video could be used to fabricate a scandal to influence an election, spread false orders to military units to create chaos, or create a fake atrocity to serve as a pretext for war.135 An AI-generated image of an explosion at the Pentagon in 2023 briefly caused a dip in the U.S. stock market, demonstrating the real-world impact of such fabrications.137
Beyond deepfakes, AI is being used to automate and personalize propaganda on an unprecedented scale. Large language models can now generate false news articles and social media posts that are often indistinguishable from human-written content.138 These tools can be used to create tailored messages designed to appeal to the specific psychological vulnerabilities of target audiences, and to automate the operation of vast bot networks that can amplify these messages across multiple platforms.130 This dramatically lowers the barrier to entry for conducting large-scale influence operations, making these powerful tools available not just to states, but to a wide range of malicious actors.138
The cumulative effect of this AI-driven information warfare is not simply the spread of more falsehoods. Its ultimate strategic objective is the erosion of trust itself. The goal is not necessarily to make people believe in a specific lie, but to destroy their confidence in all sources of information—in the media, in government institutions, in scientific experts, and ultimately, in their own ability to discern fact from fiction. This fosters a state of what can be called “epistemic exhaustion,” where citizens become so overwhelmed by the flood of conflicting information that they disengage from civic life, making them passive and more susceptible to manipulation. A population that trusts nothing cannot form the consensus required to recognize and counter a national security threat, thereby achieving an adversary’s goal of societal paralysis without firing a single shot.
Section V: The Next Revolution – The AI-Enabled Battlespace
Just as the integration of precision, stealth, and networking catalyzed a Revolution in Military Affairs at the end of the 20th century, artificial intelligence is now driving another profound transformation in the character of warfare. This emerging revolution is centered on three key elements: the compression of decision-making to machine speed, the proliferation of intelligent autonomous systems, and the dominance of data as the central resource of military power. This shift promises unprecedented efficiency but also introduces complex new risks of escalation and loss of human control.
Accelerating the Kill Chain – AI in Intelligence and C2
Modern military operations are drowning in data. A torrent of information flows from satellites, drones, ground sensors, and countless other sources, far exceeding the capacity of human analysts to process it in a timely manner.140 Artificial intelligence is becoming the essential tool for turning this data overload into a decisive advantage.
The U.S. Department of Defense’s Project Maven (officially the Algorithmic Warfare Cross-Functional Team) is a flagship initiative in this area. Launched in 2017, Maven employs machine learning algorithms to automatically analyze full-motion video from drones and other ISR platforms.142 The system can detect, classify, and track objects of interest—such as vehicles, buildings, or groups of people—freeing human analysts from the tedious task of watching countless hours of footage and allowing them to focus on higher-level analysis and decision-making.144 This capability dramatically accelerates the intelligence cycle, reducing the time it takes to find and validate a target from hours or days to minutes or even seconds.146
This accelerated intelligence is being fed into increasingly AI-enhanced Command and Control (C2) systems. The objective is to create a seamless, networked architecture that connects any sensor to any decision-maker and any weapon system on the battlefield. This concept is at the heart of the U.S. military’s overarching strategy for Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2).147 AI algorithms within these C2 systems can fuse data from disparate sources to create a unified, real-time operational picture, predict enemy movements, analyze potential courses of action, and recommend optimal responses to commanders.140 The ultimate goal is to radically compress the “sensor-to-shooter” timeline, enabling forces to act at a tempo that overwhelms an adversary’s ability to react.
This pursuit of AI-driven military advantage has ignited a fierce technological competition, often described as an AI arms race, primarily between the United States and China.150 China has made AI a national priority and is pursuing a strategy of “military-civil fusion” to systematically leverage the expertise and innovation of its burgeoning private tech sector and universities for military modernization.111 Beijing’s goal is to achieve “intelligentized warfare,” using AI to achieve “decision dominance” through a highly integrated “systems warfare” approach.111 While the United States is widely seen as maintaining a lead in developing the most advanced, cutting-edge AI models, China’s state-directed approach gives it an advantage in the broad-scale adoption and practical integration of AI technologies across its military and economy.153
The Proliferation of Autonomy
The most visible and disruptive impact of AI on the battlefield is the proliferation of autonomous and semi-autonomous systems, particularly unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs).
The drone revolution has unfolded in two parallel tracks. On one end of the spectrum are sophisticated, reusable military drones like the Turkish Bayraktar TB2. In conflicts such as the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war, the TB2 proved devastatingly effective, combining long-endurance surveillance with precision-guided munitions to destroy Armenian air defenses, armor, and artillery, effectively dominating the battlefield.154 On the other end of the spectrum is the widespread use of cheap, commercially available, and often disposable drones, a trend brought to the forefront by the war in Ukraine. Both sides have deployed thousands of small quadcopters for reconnaissance and, more significantly, as first-person-view (FPV) “kamikaze” drones capable of destroying multi-million-dollar tanks and other armored vehicles.157 This has created a new reality of attritional drone warfare, where the low cost and sheer quantity of these systems can overwhelm even sophisticated defenses.159
This trend points toward the next frontier of military autonomy: Lethal Autonomous Weapon Systems (LAWS), colloquially known as “killer robots.” These are weapon systems that, once activated, can independently search for, identify, target, and kill human beings without direct human control over the final lethal decision.150 The development of LAWS raises profound legal and ethical challenges. Organizations like the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) have raised serious concerns about whether such systems can comply with the core principles of International Humanitarian Law (IHL), such as distinction, proportionality, and precaution.163 Key questions revolve around accountability—who is responsible when an autonomous weapon makes a mistake?—and the fundamental ethical principle of “meaningful human control” over the use of lethal force.166 In response to these concerns, the ICRC and numerous other bodies have called for the negotiation of new, legally binding international rules to prohibit unpredictable autonomous systems and those that target humans directly.162
The relentless pace of technological development is creating a strategic environment where the speed of combat is poised to exceed the limits of human cognition. As AI-enabled C2 systems compress decision cycles to seconds and autonomous weapons are designed to react instantly to threats, conflicts between two AI-enabled militaries may be fought and decided at machine speed, potentially before human commanders can fully comprehend the situation or intervene. This creates an inescapable and dangerous strategic logic: to remain competitive, militaries feel compelled to delegate more and more decision-making authority to AI systems, despite the profound ethical concerns and the immense risk of rapid, unintended escalation.171
Furthermore, the proliferation of cheap, effective, and increasingly autonomous systems is upending the traditional military-technical balance. The war in Ukraine has vividly demonstrated the problem of “cost asymmetry,” where inexpensive drones, costing only a few thousand dollars, can neutralize or destroy highly valuable military assets like tanks and warships that cost millions.158 Defending against swarms of these cheap drones with expensive, sophisticated air defense missiles is an economically unsustainable proposition.160 This challenges the entire Western military model, which has for decades relied on a relatively small number of expensive, technologically superior platforms. The future battlefield may not be dominated by the nation with the most advanced fighter jet, but by the one that can deploy the largest, most adaptable, and most intelligent swarm of inexpensive, autonomous, and attritable systems.
Conclusion: A State of Undocumented, Perpetual Conflict
The evidence of the past 50 years is conclusive: while the fundamental nature of war as a political act has not changed, its character has been irrevocably transformed. The clear, binary world of the Cold War, with its defined states of “peace” and “war,” has been replaced by a state of persistent, multi-domain competition. The lines have not just blurred; they have been erased and weaponized. The major powers are not on the brink of a new conflict; they are, and have been for some time, engaged in one. It is an undocumented, undeclared, and unending conflict fought not primarily with massed armies on physical battlefields, but with a new arsenal of hybrid tools across a vastly expanded battlespace.
This transformation has been driven by a confluence of factors. The nuclear stalemate of the Cold War forced competition into the shadows, normalizing the use of proxies, covert action, and political subversion. The subsequent Revolution in Military Affairs created such a profound U.S. advantage in conventional warfare that it compelled adversaries to abandon symmetrical competition and double down on these asymmetric, hybrid methods. The globalization of finance and information, coupled with the proliferation of cyber capabilities and advanced technologies, provided the new domains—economic, digital, and cognitive—in which this competition would be waged.
Today, Russia, China, the United States, and other powers are engaged in a constant struggle for advantage in the grey zone. This is a conflict fought with sanctions designed to cripple economies, with cyberattacks that probe critical infrastructure, with deniable sabotage of undersea cables, with proxy forces that allow for influence without attribution, and, most pervasively, with information campaigns designed to fracture societies from within.
The advent of artificial intelligence is now catalyzing the next revolution, one that promises to accelerate the speed of conflict beyond human comprehension. AI is transforming intelligence analysis, command and control, and the very nature of weaponry, pushing toward a future of algorithmic warfare and autonomous systems. This raises the specter of a battlefield where decisions are made in microseconds and escalation can occur without deliberate human intent.
In this new era, the traditional concept of “victory” is becoming obsolete. Victory is no longer solely defined by a signed treaty or a captured capital. It may be the successful paralysis of a rival’s economy through financial warfare 55; the quiet degradation of their military readiness through sustained cyber espionage 76; the fracturing of their political system through a multi-year disinformation campaign 123; or the achievement of a decisive technological breakthrough in AI that renders an adversary’s entire military doctrine irrelevant.150
The greatest danger of this new paradigm is not necessarily a deliberate, cataclysmic war, but the potential for uncontrollable escalation out of the grey zone. A miscalculation in a proxy conflict, a cyberattack with unforeseen cascading effects, or the autonomous action of an AI-powered weapon system could trigger a rapid spiral into a conventional conflict that no party initially intended. The central challenge for national security in the 21st century is therefore twofold: not only to prepare to win the wars of the future, but to learn how to successfully navigate the unending, undocumented conflict that is already here.
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This report provides a strategic assessment of the five most probable operational strategies that a commander of the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN) would employ in a high-intensity maritime confrontation with United States naval forces. For each Chinese strategy, a corresponding U.S. counter-strategy is detailed, grounded in an analysis of current military doctrines, technological capabilities, and the prevailing strategic balance in the Western Pacific.
The analysis reveals a fundamental dichotomy in operational philosophy. The PLAN’s strategies are overwhelmingly optimized for a decisive, system-dependent, and centrally controlled initial blow, designed to achieve a rapid fait accompli by shattering U.S. operational capability and political will. These strategies—ranging from a massive missile saturation strike to a multi-domain C5ISR blackout—rely on the seamless integration of a complex but potentially brittle system-of-systems. Conversely, U.S. counter-strategies, rooted in the doctrine of Distributed Maritime Operations (DMO), are designed for systemic resilience, allied integration, and victory in a chaotic, degraded, and protracted conflict. U.S. responses prioritize dis-integrating the adversary’s kill web before launch, leveraging a superior command-and-control philosophy based on decentralized execution, and exploiting China’s grand strategic vulnerabilities.
The five core strategic interactions analyzed are:
The Saturation Strike: A multi-domain, massed missile attack aimed at overwhelming the defenses of a U.S. Carrier Strike Group (CSG). The U.S. response focuses on proactively degrading the PLAN’s C5ISR “kill web” through non-kinetic means while employing a layered, networked defense (NIFC-CA) and operational dispersal (DMO) to survive and retaliate.
The Gray-Zone Squeeze: The use of paramilitary and non-military assets (Maritime Militia and Coast Guard) to assert control over disputed waters below the threshold of war. The U.S. counter involves “assertive transparency” to strip away plausible deniability, a “like-for-like” response using law enforcement assets, and bolstering allied maritime domain awareness and resilience.
The Undersea Ambush: The deployment of a large and quiet conventional submarine force to interdict sea lanes and hold U.S. surface assets at risk within the First Island Chain. The U.S. response leverages its technologically superior nuclear submarine force and a coordinated, multi-domain Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) network to seize and maintain undersea dominance, which is the decisive enabling campaign for all other naval operations.
The C5ISR Blackout: A synchronized attack across the space, cyber, and electromagnetic domains to paralyze U.S. command, control, communications, computers, intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance. The U.S. response is twofold: building technical resilience through hardened, redundant networks (Project Overmatch) and leveraging doctrinal resilience through a culture of mission command that empowers decentralized execution in a degraded environment.
The War of Attrition: A strategy to leverage China’s superior industrial capacity to absorb and replace combat losses at a rate the U.S. cannot sustain in a protracted conflict. The U.S. counter is to reject a war of attrition by targeting China’s grand strategic vulnerabilities—namely its dependence on seaborne trade—and integrating the formidable industrial and military power of its allies to offset the PLAN’s numerical advantage.
The overarching conclusion is that a naval conflict in the Western Pacific would be a contest between a Chinese force built for a perfect, centrally-scripted punch and a U.S. force designed to fight and win in the ensuing chaos. Victory for the U.S. commander will hinge on the successful implementation of DMO, enabled by resilient networking, and founded upon the U.S. Navy’s most durable asymmetric advantage: a command culture that trusts and empowers its people to take disciplined initiative in the face of uncertainty.
Introduction: The Contested Waters of the Western Pacific
The contemporary maritime environment, particularly in the Western Pacific, is defined by a direct and intensifying strategic competition between the United States and the People’s Republic of China (PRC). This is not merely a contest of naval platforms but a fundamental clash of national wills, technological trajectories, and operational doctrines. At the heart of this competition is the dramatic transformation of the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN). Over the past three decades, the PLAN has evolved from a coastal “brown-water” navy, whose primary mission was to “resist invasions and defend the homeland” , into a formidable “blue-water” force with global ambitions. This shift, accelerated under Xi Jinping’s “China Dream” of national rejuvenation , represents a deliberate effort to project power, secure China’s maritime interests, and challenge the United States’ long-standing maritime supremacy. The PLAN’s growth is not just quantitative—it is now the world’s largest navy by number of ships—but also qualitative, with the introduction of advanced surface combatants, aircraft carriers, and a modernizing submarine force.
This naval build-up underpins a profound clash of operational philosophies, setting the stage for any potential confrontation. China’s military strategy is anchored in the concept of Anti-Access/Area Denial (A2/AD). This is a layered, defense-in-depth posture designed to deter, and if necessary, defeat U.S. military intervention within the First and Second Island Chains. By combining long-range precision-strike weapons, a dense network of sensors, and a growing fleet, China seeks to make military operations by foreign forces prohibitively costly and difficult in areas it considers vital to its national interests, such as the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea. A2/AD is fundamentally the strategy of a continental power seeking to establish and enforce control over its maritime periphery, effectively turning its near seas into a strategic bastion.
In direct response to this challenge, the United States Navy has adopted Distributed Maritime Operations (DMO) as its foundational operating concept. DMO is designed explicitly to counter peer adversaries in a contested A2/AD environment. It seeks to turn the adversary’s strength—a reliance on finding and targeting concentrated U.S. forces—into a critical weakness. DMO achieves this by dispersing U.S. naval forces over vast geographic areas, complicating the adversary’s targeting problem, while concentrating lethal and non-lethal effects from multiple domains and vectors through resilient, long-range networking. It is a conceptual shift away from the carrier-centric battle group of the post-Cold War era toward a more adaptable, resilient, and distributed fleet architecture capable of seizing the initiative and prevailing in a high-end fight.
This report will dissect this strategic competition by analyzing the five most likely operational strategies a PLAN commander will employ in a maritime confrontation. For each Chinese strategy, a corresponding U.S. counter-strategy will be presented, providing a comprehensive assessment for the U.S. commander tasked with maintaining maritime superiority and upholding the international rules-based order in the contested waters of the Western Pacific.
I. The Saturation Strike: Overwhelming the Shield
The kinetic culmination of decades of Chinese investment in A2/AD capabilities is the Saturation Strike. This strategy is not merely an attack but a highly synchronized, multi-domain, system-of-systems operation aimed at delivering a decisive and politically shattering blow against the centerpiece of U.S. naval power projection: the Carrier Strike Group (CSG).
The Chinese Commander’s Strategy
The PLAN commander’s primary strategic objective in executing a Saturation Strike is to achieve a mission-kill or hard-kill on a U.S. aircraft carrier and its principal escorts, such as its Aegis cruisers and destroyers. The intended effect is twofold: operationally, to eliminate the CSG’s ability to project air power, thereby establishing uncontested sea and air control within the A2/AD envelope; and strategically, to inflict a shocking loss that breaks U.S. political will to continue the conflict.
This strategy is not executed by simply launching missiles; it requires the activation of a complex and highly integrated C5ISR (Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Cyber, Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance) architecture that Chinese doctrine conceptualizes as a “kill web”. This architecture is designed to execute every step of the targeting process—Find, Fix, Track, Target, Engage, and Assess (F2T2EA)—against mobile, high-value U.S. naval assets. The sensor layer of this kill web is a multi-domain, redundant grid. It comprises space-based assets, including ISR satellites for imagery and electronic intelligence and the Beidou satellite navigation system for precision timing and location ; land-based over-the-horizon (OTH) radars to detect naval formations at long ranges; airborne platforms like Airborne Warning and Control System (AWACS) aircraft and long-endurance Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs); and the organic sensors of the PLAN’s own surface ships and submarines. The purpose of this dense sensor network is to create a persistent, fused, and reliable picture of the battlespace, ensuring that a U.S. CSG can be continuously tracked once detected.
The kinetic effectors of this strategy are a diverse and numerous arsenal of missiles, designed to attack the CSG from multiple axes and at different altitudes simultaneously, thereby overwhelming its layered defenses through sheer volume and complexity. The primary threat to the aircraft carrier itself comes from Anti-Ship Ballistic Missiles (ASBMs). These are road-mobile systems that can be hidden inland and launched on short notice. The key systems are the DF-21D, known as the “carrier-killer” with a range of approximately 1,500 km, and the DF-26, an intermediate-range ballistic missile dubbed the “Guam-killer” with a range of approximately 4,000 km, capable of striking both land bases and naval targets. These missiles attack from a near-space apogee at hypersonic speeds (estimated at up to Mach 10 upon reentry), and are believed to be equipped with Maneuverable Reentry Vehicles (MaRVs) that can make terminal adjustments to their trajectory, significantly complicating interception by U.S. defensive systems.
A more recent and sophisticated threat is posed by Hypersonic Glide Vehicles (HGVs), such as the DF-ZF HGV launched by the DF-17 missile. Unlike a ballistic missile, an HGV is released from its booster rocket and then “skips” along the upper atmosphere on a relatively flat, non-ballistic trajectory. This flight profile, combined with its ability to maneuver at speeds exceeding Mach 5, makes it exceptionally difficult for traditional ballistic missile defense radars and interceptors to track and engage.
To saturate the CSG’s mid- and inner-tier defenses, the ASBM and HGV attack will be synchronized with a massive volley of Anti-Ship Cruise Missiles (ASCMs). These will include both sea-skimming subsonic and supersonic variants, like the YJ-18, launched from a wide array of platforms to create a multi-axis threat picture that overloads the Aegis Combat System’s fire control channels. The platforms tasked with launching these weapons are themselves diverse. The PLAN’s modern surface combatants, particularly the formidable Type 055 (Renhai-class) cruiser and the capable Type 052D destroyers, serve as primary launch platforms. The Type 055, with its 112 Vertical Launch System (VLS) cells and advanced dual-band AESA radars, is a critical node in both the sensor and shooter network. Concurrently, PLAN Air Force H-6 bombers, armed with long-range ASCMs, will conduct standoff attacks from the periphery of the CSG’s air defense bubble. Finally, PLAN submarines, both conventional and nuclear, will be pre-positioned along expected U.S. approach vectors to launch submerged attacks, adding another, often unseen, axis of attack.
A deeper analysis of this strategy reveals that its immense power is predicated on the seamless functioning of a highly complex, centrally controlled C5ISR architecture. It is designed as a perfectly synchronized, overwhelming blow, but this optimization for a “best-case” scenario, where its network operates unimpeded, creates an inherent brittleness. The entire kill chain, from satellite detection to missile impact, depends on a series of critical nodes—a specific satellite, a data fusion center on the mainland, a secure communication link. The failure of any one of these nodes, whether through technical malfunction or enemy action, could cause the entire targeting solution to collapse, rendering the missiles ineffective. Furthermore, the nature of the primary threat systems suggests the attack will be “pulsed” rather than continuous. The logistical and C5ISR effort required to coordinate mobile land-based launchers and generate a high-fidelity targeting solution for a moving CSG means the PLAN cannot maintain a constant stream of ASBM fire. Instead, they will seek to create a “targeting window” and launch a massive, all-at-once strike to maximize the probability of success. This operational tempo, however, creates windows of opportunity for U.S. forces to act and disrupt the cycle between these offensive pulses.
The U.S. Commander’s Response
The U.S. commander’s strategic objective is to defeat the PLAN’s Saturation Strike by actively dis-integrating the Chinese kill web before missiles are launched, defending against any weapons that do get through, and maintaining the combat effectiveness of the CSG to retaliate decisively. This multi-phased response is the practical application of Distributed Maritime Operations.
The primary effort, designated here as Phase 0, is focused on non-kinetic warfare to prevent the PLAN from generating a clean targeting solution in the first place. This is a proactive campaign to attack the adversary’s C5ISR system. Coordinated through U.S. Cyber Command and theater assets, U.S. forces will conduct offensive cyber and Electronic Warfare (EW) operations targeting the nodes of the PLAN’s kill web. This includes jamming and spoofing ISR and navigation satellites, disrupting data links between platforms, attacking ground-based OTH radars, and penetrating the command and data networks that connect sensors to shooters. The goal is to sow friction, doubt, and blindness within the Chinese commander’s decision-making cycle, degrading their situational awareness and confidence in their targeting data. Simultaneously, the CSG will employ a sophisticated suite of deception tactics, including advanced electronic decoys that mimic the signature of high-value ships and strict emissions control (EMCON) procedures to reduce the CSG’s own electronic signature, thereby confusing PLAN sensors and creating a multitude of false targets.
Should the PLAN manage to launch a strike, Phase 1—the kinetic shield—is activated. This is a layered, hard-kill defense system designed to engage and destroy incoming threats at successively closer ranges. The heart of this defense is the Aegis Combat System, deployed on Ticonderoga-class cruisers and Arleigh Burke-class destroyers. Aegis, with its powerful AN/SPY series radars, provides 360-degree, all-weather detection, tracking, and engagement capabilities against the full spectrum of aerial threats.
The critical enabler that extends this shield beyond the horizon is Naval Integrated Fire Control-Counter Air (NIFC-CA). This revolutionary network allows different platforms to share sensor data and engage targets cooperatively. In a typical NIFC-CA engagement, an E-2D Advanced Hawkeye aircraft, acting as an elevated sensor and communications node, detects an incoming wave of cruise missiles or a terminally descending ASBM far beyond the ship’s own radar horizon. It then transmits this targeting data via a high-capacity data link to an Aegis ship, which can launch an SM-6 missile to intercept the threat, with the E-2D providing mid-course guidance updates. This “launch-on-remote” or “engage-on-remote” capability dramatically expands the CSG’s defensive battlespace and is a crucial counter to saturation tactics.
The CSG’s interceptor arsenal is multi-tiered to handle the diverse threat axis. The outer tier, focused on Ballistic Missile Defense (BMD), employs the Standard Missile-3 (SM-3) for exo-atmospheric “hit-to-kill” interception of ballistic missiles during their mid-course phase of flight. The mid-tier is the domain of the highly versatile Standard Missile-6 (SM-6), the workhorse of NIFC-CA. The SM-6 is capable of engaging ballistic missiles in their terminal phase (endo-atmospheric) as well as advanced air-breathing threats like cruise missiles and aircraft at extended ranges. The inner tier consists of the Standard Missile-2 (SM-2) and the Evolved Sea Sparrow Missile (ESSM), providing high-volume defense against cruise missiles and aircraft at shorter ranges.
Crucially, the CSG will not operate in a tightly clustered, easily targetable formation that plays to the strengths of the PLAN’s A2/AD system. Instead, it will adopt a DMO posture. Assets will be geographically dispersed over hundreds of miles, forcing the PLAN to search a much larger area and expend significantly more ISR resources to find and identify high-value targets. The key technological enabler for this dispersal is Project Overmatch, the Navy’s contribution to the broader Department of Defense’s Combined Joint All-Domain Command and Control (CJADC2) effort. Project Overmatch is developing a suite of resilient networks, secure data architectures, and AI-powered decision aids designed to connect the dispersed fleet. This allows widely separated units to share sensor data and coordinate fires seamlessly, even in a heavily contested electromagnetic environment, creating a resilient and lethal U.S. “kill web” of its own.
This U.S. response is fundamentally proactive, not reactive. The primary effort is focused on the “left side of the kill chain”—degrading the enemy’s ability to target in the first place by attacking its vulnerable C2 and sensor networks. The kinetic shield of missiles is the final line of defense, not the first. DMO turns the tables on the A2/AD concept. The A2/AD strategy is predicated on holding a concentrated, high-value U.S. force at risk. By refusing to present a concentrated force, DMO breaks the fundamental logic of the PLAN’s targeting model. It disperses U.S. combat power across numerous manned and unmanned platforms, creating dozens of potential targets. This forces the Chinese commander into an untenable dilemma: either expend their limited inventory of high-end munitions, like ASBMs, on lower-value targets, or dedicate an enormous and unsustainable amount of ISR assets to correctly identify the high-value units within the distributed formation, making their sensor network even more vulnerable to U.S. non-kinetic attack.
Feature
USN Arleigh Burke-class (Flight III)
PLAN Type 055 (Renhai-class)
Type
Guided-Missile Destroyer
Guided-Missile Cruiser
Displacement
~9,700 tons
~13,000 tons
VLS Cells
96 Mk 41 VLS
112 GJB 5860-2006 VLS
Primary Radar
AN/SPY-6(V)1 AMDR
Type 346B (S- and X-band AESA)
Primary AAW Missile
SM-6, SM-2, ESSM
HHQ-9B
ASuW Missile
Maritime Strike Tomahawk, LRASM
YJ-18A, YJ-21 ASBM
Land Attack Missile
Tomahawk Land Attack Missile
CJ-10
Data compiled from sources.
II. The Gray-Zone Squeeze: Winning Without Fighting
Beyond high-end kinetic conflict, the PLAN commander will employ a sophisticated and persistent strategy of coercion in the “gray zone”—the contested space between peace and war. This strategy involves the calibrated use of non-military and paramilitary forces to achieve strategic objectives, such as asserting de facto sovereignty over disputed waters, without triggering a conventional military response from the United States or its allies.
The Chinese Commander’s Strategy
The strategic objective of the Gray-Zone Squeeze is to establish “facts on the water” that normalize Chinese administrative control and territorial claims, primarily in the South China Sea and East China Sea. This is achieved by harassing U.S. or allied vessels, intimidating regional claimants, and gradually eroding the international rules-based order, all while maintaining plausible deniability and carefully managing the escalation ladder to avoid open warfare.
The operational manifestation of this strategy is a layered, three-tiered force structure, often referred to as the “cabbage strategy,” where each layer provides a different level of coercion and deniability. The innermost layer, and the vanguard of any gray-zone operation, is the People’s Armed Forces Maritime Militia (PAFMM). This is a state-organized and controlled force composed of a large swarm of vessels, many of which are disguised as civilian fishing trawlers but are, in fact, purpose-built for paramilitary missions with reinforced hulls and powerful water cannons. The PAFMM is used for initial harassment, blockading strategic features like the Second Thomas Shoal, and employing “swarm” tactics to intimidate smaller vessels from nations like the Philippines or Vietnam. Their civilian appearance is the key to the strategy, as it makes a forceful, kinetic response from a professional navy politically risky and easy for Beijing to portray as an act of aggression against fishermen.
The middle layer consists of the China Coast Guard (CCG). The CCG operates larger, more capable, and often heavily armed cutters, many of which are former PLAN frigates. The CCG’s role is to escalate the pressure beyond what the militia can achieve. They employ dangerous but nominally non-lethal tactics, including ramming, shouldering, using high-pressure water cannons, and aiming military-grade lasers at the bridges of opposing ships to blind their crews. By operating under the guise of maritime law enforcement, the CCG further complicates the Rules of Engagement (ROE) for U.S. naval forces, creating a legal and diplomatic shield for their coercive actions.
The outermost layer is composed of the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN) itself. In a typical gray-zone scenario, PLAN warships will remain “over the horizon,” visible on radar but not directly involved in the immediate confrontation. Their presence serves as a powerful and unambiguous military backstop. It sends a clear signal to the U.S. commander that any attempt to escalate and use lethal force against the CCG or PAFMM will cross the threshold into a conventional military conflict with the full might of the PLAN.
The core of this entire strategy is to present the U.S. commander with an operational dilemma, a “lose-lose” scenario. The first option is to do nothing, which results in ceding the contested area, allowing China to achieve its objective, and signaling to regional allies that U.S. security guarantees are hollow. The second option is to escalate and use lethal force against the PAFMM or CCG. This would play directly into China’s hands, allowing Beijing to win the information and legal war (“lawfare”) by painting the U.S. as the aggressor attacking “civilians” or “law enforcement” personnel in waters China claims as its own.
These gray-zone operations are not random acts of maritime bullying; they are a form of pre-conflict battlefield shaping. They are a systematic, long-term campaign to establish positional advantage, test U.S. resolve, and normalize Chinese presence and control in strategically vital waterways. The militarized artificial islands in the South China Sea, for example, serve as forward operating bases that enable and sustain these gray-zone actions, extending China’s A2/AD bubble and limiting U.S. operational freedom long before any shots are fired. The strategy’s center of gravity is not firepower but ambiguity and narrative control. Its effectiveness hinges on China’s ability to control the international perception of events and exploit the legal and political seams in the international order. If this ambiguity is stripped away and the state-directed nature of the coercion is laid bare, the strategy loses much of its power, as it can no longer be credibly separated from an act of military aggression.
The U.S. Commander’s Response
The U.S. commander’s strategic objective is to effectively counter Chinese gray-zone coercion without escalating to armed conflict. This requires a multi-faceted approach aimed at exposing the state-directed nature of the PAFMM and CCG, neutralizing China’s narrative advantage, and reassuring allies of unwavering U.S. commitment to a free and open Indo-Pacific.
The primary line of effort is “Assertive Transparency,” a strategy designed to win the information war by systematically stripping away the ambiguity upon which the Chinese strategy relies. This involves the use of a persistent and comprehensive ISR network—including satellites, long-endurance UAVs like the MQ-4C Triton and MQ-9 Reaper, and other intelligence platforms—to continuously monitor, document, and collect irrefutable evidence of PAFMM and CCG activities. This evidence, including imagery of unprofessional maneuvers, communications intercepts proving coordination with the PLAN, and data showing militia vessels disabling their automatic identification systems (AIS), must be rapidly declassified and publicly released. By publicizing Beijing’s malign behavior, the U.S. and its allies can impose significant reputational costs, forcing China to either accept international condemnation or disavow its own paramilitary forces.
The second line of effort is to employ a calibrated force posture that controls the escalation ladder. Instead of meeting paramilitary aggression with high-end naval combatants, the U.S. will pursue a “like-for-like” response. This involves deploying U.S. Coast Guard (USCG) cutters to the region to counter the CCG directly. This places the confrontation in a law-enforcement-versus-law-enforcement context, which neutralizes China’s narrative that it is being bullied by the U.S. Navy. It also leverages the USCG’s expertise in maritime law enforcement and professional conduct to highlight the unprofessional and dangerous behavior of the CCG. In this posture, U.S. Navy destroyers would be positioned in an overwatch role, similar to the PLAN’s own posture. This demonstrates military resolve and establishes clear red lines—for example, that lethal force used against a U.S. or allied vessel will be met with a decisive military response—without being the primary instrument of engagement in the gray-zone incident itself.
The third, and perhaps most critical, line of effort is building allied resilience. The primary targets of China’s gray-zone pressure are often U.S. allies and partners like the Philippines, Vietnam, and Malaysia. The most effective long-term counter is to empower these nations to resist coercion themselves. This involves significant investment in capacity building, such as enhancing their maritime domain awareness, C5ISR capabilities, and coast guard forces so they can better monitor and respond to gray-zone threats within their own exclusive economic zones (EEZs). Furthermore, conducting joint naval and coast guard patrols with allies in disputed areas serves to demonstrate collective resolve, reinforce international law like the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), and show that China’s claims are not accepted by the international community.
This counter-strategy deliberately targets the adversary’s decision-making process, not just their physical assets. A purely physical response, such as trying to block militia boats with a destroyer, is tactically difficult and strategically unwise, as it plays directly into China’s escalation trap. The key is to create unacceptable political and reputational costs for the Chinese Communist Party leadership. By shifting the conflict from the physical domain, where China can leverage its numerical advantage in small vessels, to the information and political domains, the U.S. and its allies can leverage the power of truth, international law, and collective action. It must be understood that gray-zone challenges cannot be “solved” in a single engagement. China’s strategy is one of persistence and incrementalism. Therefore, the U.S. response must also be persistent. Transitory operations like Freedom of Navigation Operations (FONOPs), while necessary, are insufficient on their own to deter this long-term campaign. The ultimate winner in the gray zone will be the side that can most effectively and efficiently sustain its presence and its political will over time.
Force
Command & Control
Typical Vessels
Typical Armament/Tactics
Plausible Deniability
People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN)
Military (Central Military Commission)
Destroyers, Frigates, Cruisers
Lethal (Missiles, Guns); Provides military overwatch
Zero
China Coast Guard (CCG)
Paramilitary (People’s Armed Police)
Large patrol cutters (often ex-PLAN)
Water cannons, acoustic devices, ramming, lasers, deck guns; Enforces domestic law in disputed waters
Low
People’s Armed Forces Maritime Militia (PAFMM)
Military Auxiliary (Local PAFDs, PLAN)
Converted trawlers, purpose-built vessels with reinforced hulls
Leveraging the inherent stealth of the submarine, the PLAN commander’s third major strategy is to wage war from beneath the waves. The Undersea Ambush is designed to challenge U.S. sea control at its foundation, targeting not only high-value military assets but also the vulnerable logistical lifeline that sustains any forward-deployed U.S. force. This is a battle for the undersea domain, where victory or defeat can enable or cripple all other operations.
The Chinese Commander’s Strategy
The strategic objectives of the Undersea Ambush are multifaceted: to interdict U.S. and allied sea lines of communication (SLOCs), disrupting the flow of reinforcements and supplies into the theater; to conduct covert intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) deep within the U.S. defensive perimeter; to hold high-value surface assets like aircraft carriers and amphibious ships at risk; and to contest the undersea domain, denying U.S. submarines the sanctuary they have long enjoyed, particularly within the strategically critical waters of the first island chain.
To execute this strategy, the PLAN commander will employ a two-tiered submarine force, with different classes of submarines tailored for different operational environments and missions. The first tier, and arguably the most dangerous in a regional conflict, is the PLAN’s large and increasingly quiet fleet of conventional diesel-electric submarines (SSKs). This force includes Russian-built Kilo-class submarines and a growing number of indigenous Song- and Yuan-class boats. A significant and growing portion of the Yuan-class fleet is equipped with Air-Independent Propulsion (AIP), a technology that allows a non-nuclear submarine to operate without surfacing to snorkel for extended periods, potentially for weeks at a time. This capability makes AIP-equipped SSKs extremely difficult to detect in the noisy and acoustically complex littoral environments of the South and East China Seas, where they can lie in wait in ambush positions.
The second tier is the PLAN’s growing force of nuclear-powered attack submarines (SSNs), primarily the Shang-class (Type 093) and its improved variants, with the next-generation Type 095 expected to be a significant leap in capability. While generally still considered acoustically inferior (i.e., louder) than their U.S. counterparts, the newest Shang-class variants show significant improvements in quieting and are equipped with vertical launch systems (VLS) capable of firing land-attack and anti-ship cruise missiles. These SSNs provide the PLAN with a blue-water, long-endurance capability to threaten U.S. rear-area bases, strike targets on land, and hunt U.S. naval forces beyond the first island chain.
The key missions assigned to this submarine force will be diverse. The numerous SSKs will be deployed as “picket fences” across key maritime chokepoints, such as the Strait of Malacca, the Sunda Strait, and the Luzon Strait, with the primary mission of hunting for U.S. logistics shipping, amphibious vessels, and surface combatants transiting into the theater. Submarines are also the ideal platform for covertly deploying advanced sea mines near allied ports (e.g., in Japan or the Philippines) and along strategic waterways, creating no-go zones that can disrupt naval movements and bottle up surface fleets. Meanwhile, the quietest SSKs and the more capable SSNs will be tasked with the high-risk, high-reward mission of hunting High-Value Units (HVUs), specifically U.S. aircraft carriers, large-deck amphibious assault ships, and critical underway replenishment vessels.
The logic of this undersea strategy is fundamentally asymmetric and geographically focused. The PLAN leadership understands that it cannot currently compete with the U.S. Navy in a global, blue-water submarine-on-submarine conflict. Its strategy, therefore, is to leverage the numerical strength of its large SSK fleet in the defensive acoustic terrain of its near seas. The complex sound propagation, high shipping density, and variable water conditions of the East and South China Seas provide an ideal hiding ground for quiet conventional submarines. The most rational and dangerous approach for the PLAN commander is not to send their SSNs on duels in the open Pacific, but to use their SSK advantage to turn the first island chain into a lethal ambush zone.
However, this potent offensive strategy is undermined by a significant and acknowledged PLAN weakness: its own Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) capabilities. For decades, the PLAN underinvested in the complex art of ASW, lacking the advanced platforms, integrated sensor networks, and, most importantly, the deep institutional experience that the U.S. Navy has cultivated since the Cold War. While China is now rapidly fielding more capable ASW platforms, such as the KQ-200 maritime patrol aircraft and surface ships with advanced sonars, mastering ASW is not a “turnkey” capability; it requires years of training and cultural integration. This creates a critical strategic dilemma for the PLAN commander: while their submarines pose a grave threat to U.S. surface ships, the waters in which they operate are not a sanctuary for them. They are, in fact, highly vulnerable to the apex predators of the undersea domain—U.S. nuclear attack submarines. Every PLAN submarine deployed on an offensive mission is simultaneously a high-value target for U.S. SSNs, forcing the Chinese commander to risk their own most potent asymmetric assets in a domain where their adversary remains superior.
The U.S. Commander’s Response
The U.S. commander’s strategic objective is to seize and maintain dominance in the undersea domain, neutralizing the PLAN submarine threat and thereby ensuring freedom of maneuver for all U.S. and allied forces. The undersea battle is the decisive enabling campaign of any maritime conflict in the Pacific.
The cornerstone of the U.S. response is its own profound asymmetric advantage: a technologically superior, all-nuclear attack submarine (SSN) force, composed of the Virginia-class and the exceptionally quiet Seawolf-class submarines. These platforms are the most capable submarines in the world, and their primary wartime mission will be to conduct hunter-killer operations against PLAN submarines. Their superior acoustic quieting, advanced sonar suites, and the exceptional training and proficiency of their crews give them a decisive advantage in submarine-on-submarine engagements. Beyond their hunter-killer role, U.S. SSNs are premier ISR platforms, capable of penetrating deep within the A2/AD bubble to conduct covert surveillance, collect critical intelligence, provide targeting data for the joint force, and deploy special operations forces (SOF).
U.S. SSNs, however, do not operate in isolation. They are the leading edge of a coordinated, multi-layered, theater-wide ASW network. This network includes Maritime Patrol and Reconnaissance Aircraft (MPRA), primarily the P-8A Poseidon. The P-8A is the world’s premier aerial ASW platform, capable of rapidly searching vast areas of ocean, deploying extensive fields of advanced sonobuoys to detect and track submarine contacts, and prosecuting those contacts with lightweight torpedoes. Surface combatants, including Aegis destroyers and cruisers, are also critical nodes in the ASW network. They are equipped with powerful hull-mounted and towed-array sonars and embark MH-60R Seahawk helicopters, which are themselves potent ASW platforms equipped with dipping sonars and torpedoes.
This network of kinetic platforms is cued and supported by a web of undersea surveillance systems. This includes fixed acoustic arrays laid on the seabed in strategic locations, mobile surveillance platforms like the Surveillance Towed Array Sensor System (SURTASS) ships, and a growing fleet of unmanned underwater vehicles (UUVs). Together, these systems provide persistent, wide-area surveillance of key transit lanes and operating areas, detecting the faint acoustic signatures of PLAN submarines and passing that information to the hunter-killer platforms.
The U.S. response will also actively exploit the PLAN’s vulnerabilities. U.S. submarines are ideal platforms for offensive minelaying, capable of covertly deploying advanced mines in strategic locations, such as the approaches to PLAN naval bases, to bottle up the Chinese fleet and turn China’s geography into a liability. Furthermore, U.S. forces will employ tactics designed to impose uncertainty and disrupt the PLAN’s more rigid, top-down command and control structure. By creating unpredictable and complex tactical situations, U.S. forces can exploit the superior training and doctrinal empowerment of their own crews.
The undersea battle is arguably the decisive campaign in a potential conflict. If the U.S. can successfully neutralize the PLAN submarine threat, its surface fleet and critical logistics train can operate with much greater freedom of maneuver, making the entire DMO concept fully viable. Conversely, if PLAN submarines can successfully interdict U.S. forces and logistics, the U.S. will be unable to sustain a high-intensity fight in the Western Pacific. Therefore, the U.S. commander’s first and most critical priority must be to win the war for the deeps.
Beyond technology, the U.S. Navy’s most significant and durable advantage in the undersea domain is the human factor. U.S. submarine doctrine is built upon the philosophy of “mission command,” which grants unparalleled autonomy to commanding officers. They are expected to understand the commander’s intent and then exercise disciplined initiative to achieve it, even—and especially—when operating alone and out of communication. The PLAN, by contrast, is known for a more centralized, top-down C2 structure that can be rigid and slow to adapt in a dynamic environment. In the complex, uncertain, and communications-denied battlespace of undersea warfare, the ability of a U.S. submarine commander to make rapid, independent, and intent-driven decisions will be a decisive advantage over a PLAN counterpart who may be waiting for permission from a distant, and potentially unreachable, headquarters. This cultural and doctrinal difference is a true force multiplier.
IV. The C5ISR Blackout: The Multi-Domain Blitz
Preceding or concurrent with any major kinetic operation, the PLAN commander will almost certainly execute a multi-domain blitz aimed at achieving a “systemic paralysis” of U.S. forces. The C5ISR Blackout is a strategy that focuses on non-kinetic means to render U.S. forces deaf, dumb, and blind at the outset of a conflict, thereby severing the digital connective tissue that enables modern, networked warfare.
The Chinese Commander’s Strategy
The strategic objective of the C5ISR Blackout is to disrupt, degrade, and destroy U.S. command, control, communications, computers, cyber, intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance capabilities across the space, cyber, and electromagnetic domains. By attacking the nervous system of the U.S. military, the PLAN aims to prevent the U.S. from conducting effective, coordinated joint operations, thereby isolating individual units and making them vulnerable to follow-on kinetic attacks. This strategy is the direct embodiment of the PLA’s concept of “system destruction warfare,” which posits that victory in modern conflict is achieved not by destroying every enemy platform, but by causing a cascading collapse of the adversary’s operational system.
This mission falls primarily to the PLA’s specialized information warfare units, which were centralized under the Strategic Support Force (SSF) in 2015 and are now being reorganized into more focused entities like the Cyberspace Force and Aerospace Force. These forces are tasked with planning and executing a synchronized, multi-domain attack targeting the foundational pillars of U.S. networked operations.
The key attack vectors are threefold. The first is space warfare, which will target the critical U.S. satellite constellations that provide Position, Navigation, and Timing (PNT) via the Global Positioning System (GPS), global communications (SATCOM), and ISR. The PLA has developed a suite of anti-satellite (ASAT) capabilities to achieve this, ranging from direct-ascent kinetic kill vehicles to co-orbital robotic satellites that can jam, spoof, or physically disable U.S. assets in orbit. They can also employ ground-based directed energy weapons (lasers) to dazzle or damage satellite sensors and conduct cyberattacks against satellite ground control stations.
The second vector is cyber warfare. The PLA will launch large-scale cyberattacks aimed at both military and civilian targets. Military targets will include command and control networks, logistics and maintenance databases, and weapon system software. The goal is to corrupt data, deny access to critical systems, inject malware, and generally sow chaos and confusion within the U.S. command structure. Civilian targets will include critical infrastructure in the U.S. homeland and at forward operating bases, such as power grids, transportation networks, and financial systems, with the aim of disrupting U.S. mobilization and creating domestic political pressure.
The third vector is Electronic Warfare (EW). The PLA will conduct widespread and intensive jamming of the electromagnetic spectrum. This will target critical U.S. military communications links, such as Link-16, which connects aircraft, ships, and ground forces. It will also involve broad-area jamming of GPS signals to disrupt navigation and the guidance of precision munitions. Additionally, PLA EW assets will target U.S. radar systems on ships and aircraft to degrade their ability to detect and track incoming threats. The PLA views the integration of cyber and EW, what it calls “integrated network electronic warfare,” as a core component of its information-centric strategy.
China views the achievement of information dominance as an essential prerequisite for kinetic success. A PLAN commander is highly unlikely to launch a major operation like the Saturation Strike (Strategy I) without first attempting to degrade U.S. defenses through a C5ISR Blackout. The two strategies are inextricably linked. The effectiveness of key U.S. defensive systems like NIFC-CA and the entire DMO concept depends absolutely on robust, resilient networking. PLA doctrine explicitly identifies these networks as a primary target, aiming to “paralyze the enemy’s operational system-of-systems” in the initial stages of a conflict. Therefore, the C5ISR attack is not an ancillary operation; it is the opening move of the campaign, designed to “soften up” the battlespace and create the conditions for the kinetic strike to succeed. This strategy is enabled by China’s policy of “Military-Civil Fusion,” which legally mandates that civilian entities, including tech companies, universities, and individual hackers, support the state’s national security objectives. This “whole-of-society” approach provides the PLA with a massive pool of talent, resources, and attack vectors for its cyber operations.
The U.S. Commander’s Response
The U.S. commander’s strategic objective is not merely to survive a C5ISR Blackout, but to fight through it and win in a degraded and contested information environment. This is achieved by building both technical and doctrinal resilience and by leveraging a superior command and control philosophy that thrives in chaos.
The first line of effort is building architectural resilience into the U.S. C5ISR infrastructure. A core goal of Project Overmatch is to create a resilient, self-healing network that is “transport agnostic,” meaning it can dynamically route data through multiple pathways—satellite, line-of-sight radio, mobile mesh networks, laser communications—to bypass jammed or destroyed links. The U.S. is also actively developing and deploying redundant systems to reduce single points of failure. This includes proliferating large constellations of smaller, cheaper satellites in low-earth orbit (LEO), which are more difficult for an adversary to target and destroy wholesale than a few large, exquisite satellites in higher orbits. It also involves developing alternative PNT sources to reduce the force’s critical dependency on GPS. In the cyber domain, the response is proactive. U.S. Cyber Command conducts “hunt forward” operations, where cyber defense teams work with allies to identify and neutralize adversary malware and tools within foreign networks before they can be used against the U.S..
However, technology alone is an insufficient defense. The U.S. Navy’s greatest strength in a blackout scenario is its doctrinal resilience, rooted in its command and control philosophy. Unlike the PLA’s highly centralized, top-down C2 structure, the U.S. Navy operates on the principle of mission command. Commanders are given the “what” (the objective and the commander’s intent) but are not micromanaged on the “how.” Subordinate commanders at the tactical edge—a ship’s captain, a squadron leader—are trusted and empowered to take disciplined initiative to achieve that intent, even when they are cut off from higher headquarters. This is not an ad-hoc response; it is a deeply ingrained cultural trait. U.S. forces regularly and rigorously train in communications-denied environments to practice decentralized operations. This builds the trust, confidence, and procedural knowledge necessary for the force to continue to function effectively even when the network fails.
Finally, the U.S. will not simply absorb information warfare attacks passively. It will retaliate in kind, imposing costs by targeting the critical nodes of China’s own C5ISR architecture and its deeply intertwined military-civilian infrastructure.
This confrontation is ultimately a clash of cultures and philosophies. China is betting on technology to enable and enforce centralized control. The United States is betting on its people to enable decentralized execution. In a successful C5ISR Blackout scenario, where networks are severely degraded, the Chinese system, which requires constant, high-bandwidth connectivity to function as designed, would likely grind to a halt. Tactical units would be left waiting for orders they cannot receive. The U.S. system, while also degraded, is designed to continue functioning. Individual ship and squadron commanders, operating on their last received commander’s intent, would continue to fight and make decisions. In such an environment, the force that can continue to observe, orient, decide, and act—even while “blind”—will win. This threat environment also accelerates the imperative to develop a “hybrid fleet” of manned and unmanned systems. Unmanned platforms can serve as resilient, low-cost, and attritable sensor and communication nodes, extending the network in a contested environment and conducting high-risk missions like EW or deception, thereby preserving more valuable manned platforms. Initiatives like Project Overmatch are explicitly designed to provide the robust command and control necessary for this future hybrid fleet. The response to the blackout threat is therefore not just to protect the current force, but to evolve into a more resilient, distributed, and ultimately more lethal force structure.
V. The War of Attrition: The Industrial Gambit
Should the initial, high-intensity phases of a conflict fail to produce a decisive outcome, the PLAN commander may pivot to a strategy designed to leverage China’s most profound and asymmetric advantage: its immense industrial capacity. The War of Attrition is a strategy that looks beyond the first battle to win a protracted conflict by replacing combat losses of ships, munitions, and personnel at a rate that the United States and its allies cannot match, ultimately grinding down the U.S. Navy’s material capacity and political will to continue the fight.
The Chinese Commander’s Strategy
The strategic objective of the War of Attrition is to win a long war by transforming the conflict from a contest of tactical and operational skill into a contest of industrial output and national resolve. The foundation of this strategy is China’s unparalleled dominance in global manufacturing and, specifically, shipbuilding. China possesses the world’s largest shipbuilding industry, with a capacity that is estimated to be over 230 times greater than that of the United States. In a protracted conflict, China’s numerous and massive shipyards could be fully mobilized for military purposes, allowing it to repair damaged warships and construct new ones at a pace that the strained U.S. industrial base simply cannot equal.
This industrial might underpins the PLAN’s numerical superiority. The PLAN is already the world’s largest navy by ship count and is rapidly closing the gap in high-end combatants and VLS cells. This larger force structure allows the PLAN to absorb combat losses that would be crippling for the smaller U.S. fleet. As one wargaming analysis concluded, even after suffering catastrophic losses, the PLAN could still have more surface warships remaining than the U.S. Navy and would be able to continue the naval battle.
The operational concept flowing from this reality is one of accepting, and even planning for, a high rate of attrition. The Chinese commander, backed by the political will of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), may have a much higher tolerance for combat losses than their U.S. counterpart. They may view their ships and sailors as expendable assets in service of the ultimate strategic goal of victory. Operationally, this could manifest as a willingness to “trade” assets—for example, sacrificing a Type 052D destroyer to create an opportunity to score a hit on a U.S. high-value asset like a carrier or a logistics ship, confident in their ability to replace their loss more easily. The overarching goal is to force a high rate of attrition on the smaller, more technologically complex, more expensive, and slower-to-replace U.S. fleet, particularly its limited number of forward-based assets and its vulnerable logistics and support ships.
This strategy effectively turns time into China’s greatest ally. In a short, decisive conflict, U.S. advantages in technology, training, and doctrine might carry the day. However, in a long, grinding war of industrial attrition, China’s manufacturing might becomes the decisive factor. The longer the conflict lasts, the more the material balance of power will shift in China’s favor. Therefore, the Chinese commander’s strategic imperative is to survive the initial U.S. blows and drag the conflict into a protracted struggle where their industrial advantage can be brought to bear.
However, there is a significant and untested variable in this calculus: China’s actual societal risk tolerance. While the authoritarian state can theoretically absorb massive losses, the modern PLA, largely composed of soldiers from single-child families, has no experience with the brutal realities of high-intensity combat. The CCP’s domestic legitimacy rests heavily on its projection of strength, competence, and national success. Unlike the U.S. military, which has been engaged in continuous combat operations for over two decades, the PLA has not fought a major war in over forty years. A series of humiliating naval defeats, with catastrophic casualties broadcast in the modern information age, could pose a significant threat to the CCP’s domestic stability. This could mean that Beijing’s actual tolerance for attrition is far lower than its industrial capacity might suggest.
The U.S. Commander’s Response
The U.S. commander’s response to the threat of a war of attrition must be to reject its premise entirely. The United States cannot win a war of industrial attrition against China; therefore, it must not fight one. The U.S. strategy must be designed to achieve decisive effects early in the conflict, targeting critical Chinese vulnerabilities and leveraging the full weight of allied power to prevent the conflict from devolving into a grinding slugging match.
The primary line of effort is to fight a decisive campaign that avoids a simple ship-for-ship exchange rate. This involves targeting China’s critical strategic vulnerabilities. Instead of trying to sink every PLAN warship, U.S. forces, particularly its stealthy submarine fleet, will be tasked with attacking China’s strategic Achilles’ heel: its profound dependence on seaborne imports of energy (oil and natural gas), food, and industrial raw materials. The U.S. Navy’s global reach and undersea dominance are perfectly suited to imposing a distant blockade on key maritime chokepoints far from China’s shores, such as the Strait of Malacca, the Lombok Strait, the Strait of Hormuz, and the Bab el-Mandeb. Such a campaign could cripple the Chinese economy and its ability to sustain a war effort without having to fight through the heart of the heavily defended A2/AD bubble. This shifts the battlefield from the tactical and operational levels, where China has numerical advantages, to the grand strategic level, where the U.S. holds a decisive advantage.
The second critical component of the U.S. response is the full integration of its allies, who serve as a powerful force multiplier that negates China’s numerical advantage. The United States does not fight alone. The naval power of key allies like the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force (JMSDF), the Royal Australian Navy (RAN), and the Republic of Korea Navy is substantial. When integrated into a combined operational plan, this allied force helps to offset the PLAN’s numbers and presents the Chinese commander with a multi-front, multi-national threat that vastly complicates their strategic calculus. Furthermore, allies like Japan and the Philippines provide indispensable geographic access, allowing U.S. and allied forces to operate from dispersed land bases within the first island chain. This enables a more effective counter-A2/AD posture, including the use of land-based anti-ship missiles to contest key waterways.
Finally, the U.S. is beginning to counter China’s industrial mass with a different kind of mass: attritable, autonomous systems. The Department of Defense’s Replicator Initiative is a direct response to the attrition problem. This initiative aims to field thousands of low-cost, autonomous, and “attritable” systems—unmanned ships, submarines, and aircraft—that can be produced quickly and in large numbers. These systems can be used to absorb enemy fire, saturate defenses, conduct high-risk surveillance missions, and deliver ordnance, all while preserving the more valuable, and difficult to replace, high-end manned fleet.
The U.S. response, therefore, is profoundly asymmetric. It trades China’s tactical and operational strength (ship numbers and industrial capacity) for its grand strategic weakness (dependence on maritime trade). It recognizes that while the U.S. industrial base may be outmatched by China’s alone, the combined industrial and military power of the United States and its global network of allies is not. In a long war, the ability to draw on the shipbuilding, maintenance facilities, and combat power of allies like Japan and South Korea is a massive force multiplier that China, with few powerful military allies of its own, cannot match. The U.S. commander’s most critical task in preparing for a potential protracted conflict is not just managing U.S. forces, but effectively leading and integrating a multinational coalition. This alliance network is the United States’ true strategic center of gravity and the ultimate counter to China’s industrial gambit.
Conclusion: The Commander’s Imperatives for Maintaining Maritime Superiority
The analysis of these five strategic pairings reveals a clear and consistent pattern. The naval confrontation in the Western Pacific is fundamentally a contest between two opposing paradigms of warfare: a highly integrated, centrally controlled, but potentially brittle Chinese system designed to deliver a decisive first blow, and a U.S. operational model predicated on decentralized execution, systemic resilience, and allied integration, designed to absorb that initial blow and prevail in the ensuing chaos. The PLAN’s strategies rely on achieving information dominance and executing a perfectly synchronized plan. The U.S. Navy’s DMO concept assumes that information will be contested, networks will be degraded, and plans will be disrupted. The side that can more effectively operate and adapt within that chaotic reality will hold the decisive advantage.
Victory for the U.S. commander in such a conflict is not preordained. It will depend on achieving and maintaining superiority in three key, interrelated areas that form a triad of victory for modern naval warfare.
First is Superior Technology. This does not simply mean having better individual platforms, but rather fielding a superior network that enables the entire force. The full realization of a resilient, multi-pathway, and secure network, as envisioned by Project Overmatch, is the essential technical foundation for Distributed Maritime Operations. It is the digital backbone that will allow a dispersed force to concentrate its effects, share targeting data in a contested environment, and execute complex, multi-domain operations at a tempo the adversary cannot match.
Second is Superior Doctrine. Technology is only as effective as the concepts that govern its use. The complete operationalization of DMO across the fleet is paramount. This requires moving beyond theory and wargames to make decentralized, multi-domain operations the default mode of thinking and operating for every strike group, every ship, and every squadron. It demands a mastery of fighting as a networked but dispersed force, comfortable with ambiguity and empowered to act on mission intent.
Third, and most important, is Superior People. In the final analysis, the U.S. Navy’s most significant and durable asymmetric advantage is its command culture. The principle of mission command—of empowering sailors and junior officers, of trusting subordinate commanders to take disciplined initiative, and of fostering a culture of creative problem-solving at the tactical edge—is the ultimate counter to a rigid, top-down, and centrally controlled adversary. In a conflict characterized by C5ISR blackouts and the fog of war, the side that trusts its people will out-think, out-maneuver, and out-fight the side that does not.
From this analysis, three high-level imperatives emerge for the U.S. commander and the naval service as a whole:
Accelerate DMO Enablers: The highest priority for investment and fielding must be the technologies that make DMO a reality. This includes the rapid, fleet-wide deployment of Project Overmatch networking capabilities, the procurement and stockpiling of long-range precision munitions (such as the Maritime Strike Tomahawk and LRASM), and the large-scale integration of unmanned and autonomous systems to provide attritable mass and extend the reach of the manned fleet.
Deepen Allied Integration: U.S. alliances are its greatest strategic asset and the definitive counter to China’s numerical and industrial advantages. The U.S. Navy must move beyond simple interoperability—the ability for systems to exchange data—to true integration of command and control, operational planning, logistics, and targeting with key allies, particularly the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force. This means training, planning, and operating as a single, combined fleet.
Double Down on Mission Command: The cultural advantage of decentralized command must be relentlessly reinforced. This requires investing in realistic, stressful, and large-scale training scenarios that force commanders to operate in communications-denied environments. The Navy must continue to select, train, and promote leaders who demonstrate the character, competence, and judgment to act decisively in the face of uncertainty. The side that can better harness the cognitive power of its people at every level of command will prevail.
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The Unsinkable Aircraft Carrier: An American Response to the Chinese Anti-Access/Area Denial (A2/AD) Challenge – DTIC, accessed October 3, 2025, https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/tr/pdf/AD1023223.pdf
A potential high-intensity conflict in the Western Pacific would represent the most significant military challenge for the United States in generations. It would not be a simple contest of platforms—ship versus ship or aircraft versus aircraft—but a fundamental confrontation between two opposing military philosophies, doctrines, and operational systems. The People’s Liberation Army (PLA) has spent three decades developing a comprehensive warfighting approach designed specifically to counter U.S. power projection. This approach is rooted in the concept of “Systems Confrontation” , a doctrine aimed at paralyzing an adversary’s entire operational architecture rather than attriting its forces piece by piece. This doctrine is operationalized through a formidable Anti-Access/Area Denial (A2/AD) fortress, a multi-layered network of sensors and long-range precision weapons intended to make the seas and skies within the First and Second Island Chains prohibitively dangerous for U.S. forces.
The U.S. response to this challenge is not to match the PLA system for system, but to counter with a doctrine based on resilience, agility, and networked lethality. The core tenets of this counter-strategy are Distributed Maritime Operations (DMO) and Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2). DMO seeks to enhance survivability and combat power by dispersing naval forces over wide areas while concentrating their effects through networking. JADC2 is the technological and doctrinal framework intended to create a resilient, self-healing, “any sensor, any shooter” network that connects the entire joint force across all domains—sea, air, land, space, and cyberspace.
From a commander’s perspective, the central problem is how to maintain combat effectiveness and project power when faced with a PLA strategy explicitly designed to sever command and control (C2) linkages, hold high-value assets like aircraft carriers at extreme risk, and overwhelm conventional defenses with massed fires. In this environment, victory will not be determined by material superiority alone. It will be decided by which side can achieve and maintain “decision advantage”—the ability to sense, make sense, decide, and act faster and more effectively than the adversary across the entire battlespace. This assessment identifies the five most probable and impactful strategies a PLA commander will employ and outlines the corresponding U.S. operational responses required to seize the initiative and prevail.
Warfighting Function
U.S. Doctrine/Concept
PLA Doctrine/Concept
Command & Control
Joint All-Domain Command & Control (JADC2)
Systems Destruction Warfare / Informatized Warfare
Force Employment
Distributed Maritime Operations (DMO)
Anti-Access/Area Denial (A2/AD)
Strategic Goal
Escalation Dominance / Deterrence
Dissipative Warfare / Winning Without Fighting
Technological Edge
Human-Machine Teaming / AI Augmentation
Intelligentized Warfare / AI-Driven C2
Operational Method
Integrated, All-Domain Maneuver
Concentrated Kinetic Pulse / Annihilation by Mass
I. PLA Strategy 1: The System-Centric Opening Salvo – Paralyze Before You Annihilate
The Chinese Commander’s Approach: Systems Destruction Warfare in Practice
The PLA’s “basic operational method” for modern warfare is “Systems Confrontation,” a concept that views military forces not as collections of individual units but as integrated “systems of systems”. The PLA’s theory of victory, therefore, is “Systems Destruction Warfare,” which prioritizes fragmenting the adversary’s operational system into isolated, ineffective components, thereby achieving a state where the whole is less than the sum of its parts—making “1+1<2”. This doctrine, developed from meticulous observation of U.S. network-centric military victories in the 1990s, is designed to turn a core American strength—our reliance on information networks—into a critical vulnerability. The objective of the opening salvo is not annihilation but paralysis: to degrade the U.S. OODA (Observe, Orient, Decide, Act) loop, sow confusion, and achieve decision paralysis before the main kinetic battle is joined.
This initial assault will be a simultaneous, multi-domain attack targeting the central nervous system of U.S. forces in the theater. The PLA’s organizational reforms, particularly the 2015 creation of the Strategic Support Force (SSF) to unify space, cyber, and electronic warfare capabilities, provide concrete evidence that this is not an abstract theory but a core, operationalized warfighting concept. The attack vectors will include:
Cyber Domain: In line with its doctrine of “informatized warfare,” the PLA will execute a sophisticated campaign of offensive cyber operations. The primary targets will be the command and control networks that enable joint operations, as well as logistics databases and information systems architectures. The goal is to corrupt data, disrupt communications, and inject malware that degrades the reliability of the information upon which commanders depend, creating widespread confusion and mistrust in our own systems.
Space Domain: The PLA recognizes U.S. dependency on space-based assets for C4ISR, precision navigation, and timing. The opening moves of a conflict will almost certainly include attacks on this architecture. These attacks will be both kinetic, using anti-satellite (ASAT) missiles to physically destroy key nodes, and non-kinetic, employing jamming and cyberattacks to temporarily disable or deceive our satellites. The objective is to blind our long-range sensors and sever the satellite communication (SATCOM) links that are the backbone of our networked force, effectively isolating combatant formations from each other and from strategic command.
Electromagnetic Spectrum: A pervasive electronic warfare (EW) campaign will seek to establish dominance in the electromagnetic spectrum. Specialized aircraft, such as the J-16D, will be deployed to jam U.S. radars, datalinks like Link-16, and GPS signals. This creates a “complex electromagnetic environment” designed to degrade situational awareness, disrupt weapon guidance systems, and sever the tactical data links between platforms, preventing them from operating as a cohesive force.
Targeting Key Physical Nodes: This non-kinetic assault will be complemented by precision strikes against the physical infrastructure of our command and control system. Using their arsenal of conventional ballistic and cruise missiles, the PLA will target fixed, high-value C2 nodes such as regional Air Operations Centers, major headquarters, and critical communications hubs located on U.S. and allied bases throughout the theater.
U.S. Commander’s Response: JADC2 and Doctrinal Resilience
The U.S. counter to a system-centric attack is not to build an impenetrable shield, but to field a system that is inherently resilient, adaptable, and capable of operating effectively even when degraded. This is the core purpose of the Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2) concept. JADC2 is not a single piece of hardware but an overarching approach to creating a secure, cloud-like environment for the joint force, enabling any sensor to connect to any shooter. The immediate operational priority is to fight through the initial salvo by assuming that some networks will fail and that communications will be contested.
Activating the Resilient Network: The JADC2 framework must be designed for failure. It cannot be a brittle, centralized system. It must incorporate redundant communication pathways, including line-of-sight datalinks, laser communications, and dispersed satellite constellations, to ensure that multiple routes exist for critical data. The principle is to create a “self-healing” network that can automatically re-route traffic around damaged or jammed nodes.
Decentralization and Edge Processing: A key enabler of resilience is the principle of decentralization, a core tenet of Distributed Maritime Operations. Commanders at the tactical edge must be trained and equipped to operate with mission-type orders, empowered to make decisions based on the commander’s intent even when cut off from higher headquarters. This requires “edge computing” capabilities, where data is processed and analyzed locally on ships and aircraft, allowing them to generate targeting solutions and continue the fight without constant connectivity to a central command node.
Leveraging Survivable Nodes: Stealth platforms are critical to this resilient architecture. An F-35, for example, is far more than a strike fighter; it is a flying sensor-fusion engine and a survivable, forward-deployed node in the JADC2 network. Operating within contested airspace, F-35s can use their passive sensors to collect vast amounts of intelligence on enemy dispositions, process that data onboard, and securely share it with other assets—both airborne and surface—to create a localized, ad-hoc battle network that can bypass jammed satellite links or compromised command centers.
Proactive Defense (“Defend Forward”): U.S. cyber forces will not be in a passive, defensive posture. In accordance with the “defend forward” doctrine, U.S. Cyber Command will be continuously engaged within adversary networks, seeking to understand their intentions, disrupt their C2 processes, and counter their offensive operations at or before the point of origin. This is a critical element of imposing friction and cost on the PLA’s system as they attempt to do the same to ours, turning the initial phase of the conflict into a contested cyber and electronic battle for information dominance.
II. PLA Strategy 2: The A2/AD Fortress – Forcing a Standoff
The Chinese Commander’s Approach: Operationalizing the “Keep-Out Zone”
The operational centerpiece of the PLA’s strategy is its Anti-Access/Area Denial (A2/AD) system. This is not a simple wall of defenses but a sophisticated, layered defense-in-depth designed to make military operations within the First and Second Island Chains prohibitively costly, thereby deterring U.S. intervention or defeating it if it occurs. The effectiveness of the A2/AD bubble does not rely on any single weapon but on the integrated “system of systems” that connects long-range sensors to long-range shooters. The entire kill chain—from detection and tracking to targeting and engagement—is the true center of gravity of this strategy. The PLA’s militarization of artificial islands in the South China Sea serves as a crucial geographic enabler, creating unsinkable forward bases that extend the reach of their sensor networks and missile coverage, creating overlapping fields of fire that are difficult to circumvent.
The A2/AD fortress is composed of distinct but overlapping layers of kinetic threats:
Long-Range Fires (Anti-Access): The outer layer is designed to prevent U.S. forces, particularly Carrier Strike Groups and air assets, from entering the theater of operations. This mission is primarily assigned to the PLA Rocket Force (PLARF). Its key systems include the DF-21D anti-ship ballistic missile (ASBM), with a range of approximately 1,500 km, and the DF-26 intermediate-range ballistic missile, dubbed the “Guam Killer,” with a range of at least 3,000 km. These weapons are designed to strike large, moving targets like aircraft carriers. This layer is increasingly augmented by hypersonic weapons, such as the DF-17, which carries a hypersonic glide vehicle (HGV). The extreme speed (Mach 5-10) and unpredictable, maneuvering trajectory of the HGV are designed to defeat existing U.S. missile defense systems like Aegis and THAAD.
Theater-Range Fires (Area Denial): The inner layers of the A2/AD bubble are designed to limit the freedom of action of any U.S. forces that manage to penetrate the outer screen. This involves a dense and redundant network of advanced anti-ship cruise missiles (ASCMs), such as the supersonic YJ-12 and the subsonic, sea-skimming YJ-18. These missiles can be launched from a wide variety of platforms, creating a multi-axis threat: from mobile land-based launchers, from H-6K bombers, from surface combatants like the Type 055 destroyer, and from submarines, including the Type 093 nuclear attack submarine.
The Protective IADS Umbrella: The PLA’s offensive missile forces are protected by one of the world’s most robust and modern Integrated Air Defense Systems (IADS). This system combines advanced Russian-made S-400 and S-300 long-range surface-to-air missile (SAM) systems with domestically produced systems like the HQ-9, HQ-22, and the newer, exo-atmospheric HQ-29 interceptor. This network of SAMs is linked by an extensive array of ground-based radars and airborne early warning and control (AEW&C) aircraft, such as the KJ-500A and KJ-600, giving it the capability to detect, track, and engage a wide spectrum of aerial threats, from cruise missiles to 5th-generation stealth aircraft.
System Designation
Type
Estimated Range (km)
Launch Platforms
Primary Role/Target
DF-26
Intermediate-Range Ballistic Missile (IRBM)
3,000+
Transporter Erector Launcher (TEL)
U.S. Carrier Strike Groups, U.S. Bases (Guam)
DF-21D
Anti-Ship Ballistic Missile (ASBM)
1,500-1,700
TEL
U.S. Carrier Strike Groups
DF-17
Medium-Range Ballistic Missile w/ HGV
1,800-2,500
TEL
High-Value U.S. Assets (Carriers, Bases, C2 Nodes)
YJ-18
Anti-Ship Cruise Missile (ASCM)
~540
Type 055/052D Destroyers, Submarines
U.S. Surface Combatants
YJ-12
Supersonic ASCM
~400
H-6K Bombers, J-16 Fighters, Destroyers
U.S. Surface Combatants
S-400 Triumf
Long-Range Surface-to-Air Missile (SAM)
40-400 (missile dependent)
TEL
U.S. 4th/5th Gen Aircraft, Bombers, Support Aircraft
HQ-9C
Long-Range SAM
300+
TEL
U.S. 4th/5th Gen Aircraft, Cruise Missiles
U.S. Commander’s Response: Multi-Domain Disintegration of the A2/AD Network
A direct, frontal assault on a mature A2/AD system would be prohibitively costly. The U.S. response must therefore be an indirect, multi-domain campaign designed to systematically dis-integrate the A2/AD network by attacking its critical nodes and severing the links of its kill chain. The goal is not to destroy the entire system at once, but to create temporary and localized corridors of air and sea control, allowing our forces to project power for specific objectives. This campaign will unfold in phases.
Phase 1: Blinding the Enemy. The initial focus will be on dismantling the A2/AD C3ISR architecture, rendering the PLA’s long-range shooters ineffective.
Subsurface Operations: Our nuclear-powered attack and guided missile submarines (SSNs and SSGNs) are our most survivable and potent assets for this phase. Operating undetected deep inside the A2/AD bubble, they will conduct covert intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) to map the enemy’s network. They will then use their significant payload of Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles to execute precision strikes against critical C3ISR nodes, such as coastal over-the-horizon radar sites, satellite ground stations, and hardened command bunkers.
Penetrating Air Operations: Stealth aircraft are essential for creating the initial breaches in the formidable IADS. Long-range B-2 and B-21 bombers, escorted by F-22 Raptors providing air superiority, will prosecute the most heavily defended, high-value targets, such as S-400 batteries and key command centers. F-35s will leverage their advanced sensor suites to passively locate and map enemy air defense emitters, feeding this real-time data back into the JADC2 network to enable dynamic re-tasking and follow-on strikes by other assets.
Phase 2: Rolling Back the Threat. Once the IADS umbrella has been degraded in specific corridors, we can begin to attrit the PLA’s offensive missile launchers with a lower degree of risk.
Standoff Strikes: Carrier Strike Groups and land-based bombers, operating from safer standoff distances outside the densest threat rings, will launch large volleys of long-range, stealthy weapons like the Long Range Anti-Ship Missile (LRASM) and the Joint Air-to-Surface Standoff Missile (JASSM). These weapons will be used to destroy the now-exposed and less-defended mobile launchers for the DF-21D, DF-26, and ASCMs.
Non-Kinetic Suppression: Throughout these operations, EA-18G Growler electronic attack aircraft will provide crucial support. They will jam enemy early warning and fire control radars, disrupt communications between command posts and launch units, and protect our strike packages from residual air defense threats, further contributing to the dis-integration of the A2/AD network.
By executing this phased campaign, we can systematically dismantle the A2/AD fortress, creating breaches that allow for the projection of decisive combat power.
III. PLA Strategy 3: The Overwhelming Kinetic Pulse – Annihilation by Mass
The Chinese Commander’s Approach: The Decisive Attack
While the PLA has embraced sophisticated, system-centric warfare, this has not replaced its foundational belief in the importance of mass and annihilation. A core PLA tactical principle, influenced by both Soviet and historical Chinese military thought, is to concentrate overwhelming power at a decisive point and time to annihilate the enemy force—to “use ten against one”. The “Systems Destruction” opening is the shaping operation designed to isolate and weaken a U.S. force element, such as a Carrier Strike Group. The overwhelming kinetic pulse is the decisive operation intended to destroy that isolated element. By degrading the CSG’s long-range sensors and disrupting its datalinks, the PLA hopes to force it into a reactive, close-in fight where numerical superiority can be brought to bear with devastating effect.
A PLA commander will leverage the sheer size of the PLA Navy—the world’s largest by number of ships—and the PLA Air Force to execute a massive, coordinated, multi-axis saturation attack designed to overwhelm the defensive capacity of a CSG. This attack will be characterized by:
Massed Missile Strikes: The assault will involve synchronized volleys of missiles from every domain to complicate our defensive problem. This will include waves of H-6K bombers launching long-range ASCMs from the air ; Surface Action Groups led by Type 055 and Type 052D destroyers firing their own large complements of YJ-18 ASCMs ; and covert strikes from submarines, such as the Type 093 SSN, firing submerged-launched cruise missiles.
Contesting Air Superiority: The PLA’s J-20 stealth fighters will be tasked with a critical enabling mission: hunting and destroying U.S. high-value air assets. Their primary targets will not be our fighters, but our force multipliers: the E-2D Hawkeye AEW&C aircraft that act as the eyes and ears of the fleet, and the KC-135/KC-46 tankers that are the lifeline for our combat aircraft in the vast Pacific theater. The J-20, with its combination of stealth, speed, and long-range air-to-air missiles, is purpose-built for this “airborne sniper” role. In a less-contested environment, where stealth is not the primary concern, J-20s may be flown in “beast mode,” carrying additional missiles on external pylons to function as highly capable missile trucks.
Leveraging a Robust Industrial Base: The PLA commander will operate with the knowledge that China’s defense industrial base has a significantly greater capacity to replace losses in ships, aircraft, and munitions than the United States. This allows the PLA to plan for and accept a higher rate of attrition, potentially trading less-advanced platforms to exhaust our limited stocks of high-end defensive munitions.
U.S. Commander’s Response: The Integrated Defense of the Distributed Fleet
The U.S. counter to a strategy of annihilation by mass cannot be to simply absorb the blow. It must be to deny the PLA the opportunity to concentrate its forces against a single, high-value target. This is the central defensive logic of Distributed Maritime Operations.
DMO as a Counter to Saturation: By dispersing the fleet’s combat power across numerous manned and unmanned platforms over a wide geographic area, we fundamentally alter the PLA’s targeting problem. Instead of one lucrative target—the aircraft carrier—they are faced with dozens of smaller, more mobile, and harder-to-find targets. This forces them to divide their reconnaissance and strike assets, diluting the mass of their attack and preventing them from achieving overwhelming local superiority.
Layered, Coordinated Defense: The Carrier Strike Group, while operating as part of a distributed fleet, will still execute its well-honed “defense-in-depth” doctrine to defeat any incoming threats that leak through. This is a multi-layered, integrated system:
Outer Layer: The E-2D Hawkeye will detect incoming threats at long range and vector F/A-18 and F-35 combat air patrols to engage enemy bombers and fighters before they can launch their weapons.
Middle Layer: The Aegis Combat System on the CSG’s cruiser and destroyer escorts will track and engage incoming cruise missiles with long-range Standard Missiles (SM-6 and SM-2).
Inner Layer: For any missiles that penetrate the outer layers, terminal defense is provided by shorter-range missiles like the Evolved Sea Sparrow Missile (ESSM) and the Phalanx Close-In Weapon System (CIWS).
Concentrating Fires from Dispersed Platforms: DMO is not merely about scattering for survival; it is about networking these dispersed assets to concentrate lethal effects. Under the JADC2 framework, an Aegis destroyer operating 100 nautical miles from the carrier can receive targeting data from the carrier’s E-2D and launch its own SM-6 missiles to defend the carrier. Unmanned Surface Vessels (LUSVs), acting as remote, floating missile magazines, can be positioned to contribute to the defensive screen, increasing the fleet’s overall defensive capacity without putting more sailors at risk. This allows the fleet to absorb a larger attack by distributing the defensive burden across a wider array of platforms.
Protecting the Enablers: Recognizing the PLA’s strategy of targeting our high-value air assets, a dedicated contingent of our premier air superiority fighters, the F-22 Raptors, must be assigned to the counter-air mission of protecting our tankers and AEW&C aircraft. Their combination of stealth, supercruise, and advanced sensors makes them the ideal platform to establish a protective screen, actively hunting the PLA’s J-20s and other interceptors that threaten our operational backbone.
IV. PLA Strategy 4: The Dissipative Campaign – Attacking Will and Sustainment
The Chinese Commander’s Approach: Winning Without a Decisive Battle
Should a rapid, decisive victory prove elusive, the PLA is prepared to engage in a protracted conflict designed to erode U.S. operational endurance and political will. This approach is conceptualized in emerging PLA writings as “Dissipative Warfare”. Designed for the “AI era” and conducted under the shadow of nuclear deterrence, this strategy shifts the focus from physical attrition to systemic disruption. The goal is to continuously increase the “entropy,” or disorder, of the adversary’s entire warfighting system—military, political, economic, and social—while maintaining order and cohesion within one’s own. This form of warfare reduces the level of overt bloodshed but intensifies political isolation, economic blockades, and diplomatic strangulation. It is a strategy of patience and asymmetry, leveraging China’s centralized, authoritarian system against our decentralized, democratic one. The PLA is betting that it can win a war of endurance by making the cost of conflict politically unacceptable for the United States long before a decisive military outcome is reached.
The primary tools for this dissipative campaign are the PLA’s long-standing “Three Warfares” doctrine, which will be integrated with persistent, lower-intensity military operations :
Public Opinion Warfare: This involves a global information campaign to shape the narrative of the conflict. The PLA will seek to portray U.S. actions as aggressive, imperialistic, and illegitimate, while casting China as the defender of its sovereignty. The goal is to erode support for the war among the American public, create rifts between the U.S. and its allies, and garner sympathy from neutral nations.
Psychological Warfare: This campaign will directly target the morale and will to fight of U.S. forces, political leaders, and the public. It will employ sophisticated disinformation, amplify messages of defeatism and war-weariness, issue threats of devastating economic or military consequences, and use advanced technologies to manipulate perceptions and decision-making.
Legal Warfare (“Lawfare”): The PLA will use international and domestic legal systems to constrain U.S. military options and legitimize its own actions. This can include challenging the legality of U.S. operations in international forums, promoting interpretations of maritime law that favor China’s claims, and encouraging legal challenges within the U.S. system to slow or halt military deployments.
“Social A2/AD”: This broader concept describes how China’s non-military actions—such as creating economic dependencies, fostering political divisions, and conducting massive cyber espionage—are designed to fracture American society and compromise our national resolve. In a conflict, these pre-existing vulnerabilities would be exploited to degrade our capacity to mobilize and respond effectively, creating a form of A2/AD that targets our political will rather than our military platforms.
U.S. Commander’s Response: Contested Logistics and Counter-Coercion
To defeat a strategy of exhaustion, the United States must demonstrate the capacity and the will to endure. This requires a two-pronged response: first, ensuring the sustainment of our own distributed forces in a contested environment, and second, turning the dissipative strategy back against the PLA by targeting its own critical systemic vulnerabilities.
Sustaining the Distributed Force: A distributed fleet can only be effective if it can be sustained. A protracted conflict will place immense strain on our logistics train. We must therefore prioritize the development of a robust and resilient logistics network capable of rearming, refueling, and repairing a widely dispersed fleet under constant threat. This involves not only protecting our large, vulnerable supply ships but also fielding new, more survivable logistics platforms, such as the Medium Landing Ship (LSM) and smaller, more numerous oilers (TAOLs), which can service a distributed force without creating large, concentrated targets. Forward-basing of munitions and supplies at secure, dispersed allied locations will also be critical.
Turning the Tables: Exploiting China’s SLOC Vulnerability: The most effective way to counter a dissipative strategy is to impose unbearable costs and create systemic disorder within the adversary’s own system. China’s greatest strategic vulnerability is its profound dependence on maritime Sea Lines of Communication (SLOCs) for the importation of energy (oil and natural gas), raw materials, and food, as well as for its export-driven economy. Unlike the United States, which is largely self-sufficient, China’s economy and social stability are critically dependent on the free flow of maritime commerce. Furthermore, China’s economic centers of gravity are heavily concentrated along its vulnerable coastline.
A Campaign of Interdiction: The primary instrument for this counter-dissipative campaign will be the U.S. submarine force. Operating covertly and with near-impunity on the high seas, far from the PLA’s A2/AD bubble, our SSNs will conduct a sustained campaign of commerce raiding against Chinese-flagged merchant shipping. This campaign would not need to sink every ship; the mere presence of a credible threat would drive insurance rates to prohibitive levels, forcing ships to remain in port and effectively implementing a distant blockade. This would impose direct, crippling economic costs on the Chinese state, creating internal pressure, disrupting industrial production, and generating the very systemic entropy that their dissipative strategy seeks to inflict upon us.
Information Dominance: Concurrently, we must wage our own information campaign. This involves aggressively countering the “Three Warfares” by systematically exposing PLA disinformation, clearly articulating the legal basis for our actions under international law, and maintaining a strong, consistent narrative of defending a free and open international order. This is essential for solidifying allied cohesion and maintaining the domestic political will necessary to see the conflict through to a successful conclusion.
V. PLA Strategy 5: The Intelligentized Gambit – Seizing the Initiative Through Asymmetry
The Chinese Commander’s Approach: Seeking a Paradigm Shift
The PLA is not content to simply master the current paradigm of “informatized” warfare; its leadership is aggressively pursuing what they see as the next military revolution: “intelligentized warfare”. This concept is centered on the integration of artificial intelligence (AI), big data, and autonomous systems into every aspect of military operations. The ultimate goal is to achieve a decisive advantage in the speed and quality of decision-making, creating an AI-driven command and control system that can operate inside an adversary’s human-centric OODA loop, rendering their command structures obsolete. A PLA commander, confident in these emerging capabilities, might employ them to create an asymmetric shock, seeking to achieve a rapid victory or create unforeseen tactical dilemmas that shatter our operational plans.
While many of these capabilities are still developmental, a PLA commander could employ several “intelligentized” gambits:
Autonomous Swarms: The deployment of large, coordinated swarms of low-cost, attritable unmanned air and sea vehicles. Directed by a central AI, these swarms could be used to saturate the defenses of a high-value asset like a destroyer, conduct complex, distributed ISR missions, or act as decoys to draw out our limited defensive munitions.
AI-Driven Command and Control: The PLA is working towards an AI-powered battle management system that can fuse data from thousands of sensors in real-time, identify and prioritize targets, and automatically recommend the optimal engagement solution to commanders. A mature version of this system could shrink the PLA’s decision cycle from minutes to seconds, allowing them to execute complex, multi-domain attacks at a speed that human staffs cannot possibly match.
“Battleverse” and Synthetic Warfare: The PLA is exploring the concept of a “military metaverse” or “battleverse”. This virtual environment would be used to train AI algorithms on millions of simulated combat scenarios, allowing them to learn, adapt, and develop novel tactics that are non-intuitive and unpredictable to human opponents. This could lead to the employment of battlefield strategies that we have never seen or prepared for.
Advanced Human-Machine Teaming: PLA research includes concepts like “simulacrums”—humanoid or bionic robots controlled in real-time by human operators using brain-computer interfaces or other advanced controls. These could be used for dangerous tasks like special operations, damage control on stricken ships, or operating in chemically or radiologically contaminated environments, creating a new type of combat unit with unique capabilities and risk profiles.
The greatest danger posed by “intelligentized warfare” is not any single piece of hardware, but the potential for an AI-driven C2 system to achieve a speed of decision and action that makes our own command processes a critical liability. The conflict could transform into a battle of algorithms, where the side with the faster, more adaptive AI gains an insurmountable advantage. However, this also introduces the risk of “brittle” AI. A system trained on simulated data may perform brilliantly within its parameters but could fail catastrophically or act in bizarre, unpredictable ways when faced with the chaos and friction of real combat. A PLA commander, overly confident in their AI, might initiate an action based on a flawed algorithmic calculation that leads to rapid, unintended escalation that neither side can easily control.
U.S. Commander’s Response: Adaptive Force Employment and Escalation Dominance
The U.S. response to the “intelligentized” threat must be to embrace our own technological advantages while mitigating the unique risks posed by AI-driven warfare. It requires a combination of technological counter-measures, doctrinal flexibility, and a firm grasp of escalation management.
Human-Machine Teaming: The U.S. approach to AI in warfare must be to augment, not replace, the human commander. We will employ AI and machine learning as powerful tools to filter the massive volumes of data on the modern battlefield, identify patterns and threats, and present prioritized options to human decision-makers. This will accelerate our own OODA loop, allowing us to keep pace with an AI-driven adversary without sacrificing the crucial elements of human judgment, intuition, and ethical oversight.
Counter-AI Operations: We must develop and field capabilities designed specifically to defeat intelligentized systems. This includes advanced EW capabilities to jam the datalinks that coordinate drone swarms, rendering them ineffective. It also requires sophisticated cyber operations designed to attack the AI systems themselves—either by corrupting the training data they rely on (“poisoning the well”) or by exploiting algorithmic biases to manipulate their decision-making in our favor.
Empowering Subordinate Initiative (Mission Command): A rigid, centralized command structure is a death sentence in a high-speed, AI-driven battle. The U.S. must fully embrace the doctrine of mission command, empowering junior officers at the tactical edge to exercise disciplined initiative. Commanders must be trained to understand the overall intent of the operation and be given the freedom to adapt their actions to rapidly changing, unforeseen circumstances created by enemy AI, without waiting for permission from a higher headquarters. This doctrinal flexibility is a key asymmetric advantage against a more rigid, top-down command culture.
Maintaining Escalation Dominance: The ultimate backstop against a destabilizing, asymmetric “intelligentized” gambit is our ability to control the ladder of escalation. We must maintain and clearly signal a credible capability to respond to any level of attack with a response that imposes unacceptable costs on the PLA and the Chinese state. This ensures that the PLA commander always understands that the risks of deploying their most novel, unpredictable, and potentially destabilizing weapons far outweigh any potential tactical or operational reward, thereby deterring their use in the first place.
Conclusion: The Commander’s Synthesis – Achieving Decision Advantage
The strategic challenge posed by the PLA in the Western Pacific is formidable, built on a foundation of doctrinally coherent, technologically advanced, and multi-layered warfighting concepts. The PLA’s strategies—from the opening system-centric salvo to the potential for an “intelligentized” gambit—are designed to counter traditional U.S. military strengths and exploit perceived vulnerabilities in our networked way of war.
However, these strategies are not insurmountable. Victory in this modern, high-intensity conflict will not be achieved by winning a simple war of attrition or a platform-for-platform exchange. It will be achieved by winning the information and decision contest. The full and integrated implementation of Distributed Maritime Operations and Joint All-Domain Command and Control is the key to building a joint force that is more resilient, agile, lethal, and adaptable than the adversary. By achieving and maintaining “decision advantage,” the U.S. can seize the initiative, dictate the tempo of operations, and ultimately prevail.
For the U.S. commander tasked with this mission, five imperatives are paramount:
Assume Day One is Degraded: We must train, equip, and plan for a conflict in which our space and cyber assets are under immediate and sustained attack. Our ability to fight effectively in a degraded C2 environment is a prerequisite for survival and success.
Dismantle, Don’t Destroy: The focus of our initial campaign must be on the dis-integration of the enemy’s A2/AD system by targeting its C3ISR kill chain, rather than attempting to attrite every missile and launcher.
Deny the Decisive Battle: We must use the principles of distribution and dispersal inherent in DMO to deny the PLA the force concentration it requires to execute its preferred strategy of a decisive battle of annihilation.
Wage a Counter-Campaign: In a protracted conflict, we must actively target the adversary’s own systemic vulnerabilities. A sustained campaign to interdict China’s critical maritime SLOCs is our most potent tool for imposing unacceptable costs and winning a war of endurance.
Out-Adapt, Don’t Just Out-Fight: We must embrace our own AI-enabled capabilities within a framework of human-machine teaming and foster a culture of mission command that empowers our forces to adapt faster than an adversary who may become overly reliant on rigid, AI-driven systems. By doing so, we can counter their gambits and maintain the initiative.
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