The Philosophy of Special Operations
Abstract
This article, based on a speech given to the United Services Institute of the ACT, explores the evolution of special forces and challenges many of the public misconceptions about what makes special forces and special operations ‘special’. The author then examines the operational record of special forces and details his philosophy behind the employment of these unique warriors.
Introduction
The world of special operations exerts a growing fascination over many within and outside the realm of defence. Certainly, the increased literary focus on special operations illustrates this. There has probably been more written about special forces in the recent past than just about any other military topic. Perhaps that is understandable, given the current international preoccupation with the war on terror and the broad perception that special forces are tailor-made for the terrorist environment.
Undoubtedly, the special forces of modern literature are glamorised and their role overly sensationalised. Their portrayal is often inaccurate and, not to put too fine a point on it, a lot of what has been written is rubbish. In some ways this is unsurprising. Much of the inaccuracy within popular literature inevitably results from the fact that those who wish to write on this topic simply don’t have access to the sort of material that would guarantee the accuracy of their books and, given the need to preserve the operational security and secrecy of Australian Special Operations Command, such access is unlikely to be granted in the future. So, to a certain extent, the special operations community itself must bear a portion of the blame for this mediocrity on the bookshelves. Less understandable is the fact that some of the current literary sensationalism has been penned by ex-special forces soldiers who have chosen to jump on the book-writing bandwagon. While this is not as frequent in Australia, it occurs fairly regularly in the United Kingdom and is becoming increasingly common in the United States. These literary ‘tell-alls’ certainly create some angst within the special forces community.
Compounding this current abundance of misinformation is the recent tendency for the portrayal of élite units to be more about poetry and less about dispassionate research and objective analysis into what special operations is really about. This tendency echoes the bent of the movie industry where fantasy will always outsell reality. The resultant effect is that many of the books published on special operations in the last few years bear a closer resemblance to glamorised fiction than fact and this certainly occurs at the expense of reality.
Given that I have a vested interest in the portrayal of special forces, I tend to become rather frustrated with this glamorised approach as it inspires a popular wisdom that special operations is about something it’s not. There are many widespread misconceptions that are, at best, unhelpful and, at worst, potentially damaging, particularly if they influence the way special forces are employed. Unhappily, some of those misconceptions reside within Defence as well as in the public mindset, and it is these I would like to address. I intend also to provide some insights into the role of special forces, my philosophy on their application, and comment on some of the weaknesses and pitfalls in the employment of special forces.
What Makes Them Special
What we mean by ‘special’ in the military context? Let me dispel the first misconception: ‘special’ does not mean necessarily any individual or unit superiority in the warrior sense. What special forces soldiers do at the sharp end is very similar to what conventional soldiers do. The difference is much less in the comparative qualities of the soldiers than in the way they are deployed. The way that special forces are utilised makes them different, makes them special, makes them élite; special forces are different in that they possess some additional skills which enable them to enter the battlespace in a different way, in an unconventional fashion. When special forces deploy, they do so with the intent of surprising the enemy and remaining invisible to him. To a certain extent this is the purpose of special forces—to be different. Whoever commands them, whether it is the government or an operational commander, will expect them to provide an alternative option which will not be available with the use of conventional forces alone. Notwithstanding the importance of having excellent soldiers—and Australian soldiers are among the best in the world—it is not so much the soldiers themselves but the context in which they are used that determines whether an organisation is special or élite.
I believe that special forces can be divided broadly into two types: what I would call the ‘light infantry élite’, and the unconventional or irregular special forces. The first category, the light infantry élite, could include such contemporary units as the British and French parachute battalions, the US Rangers, the Israeli Golani Commando Brigade and our own commando regiments. These units are the modern-day successors to Alexander the Great’s Companions, King Harold’s Huscarls, Napolean’s Old Guard, and Nathan Bedford Forrest’s famous—or infamous—Confederate cavalry of the American Civil War. They resemble conventional units in terms of size, organisation and often also in general modus operandi in that they are usually used overtly and within their regimental frameworks. They are regarded as élite or special because they perform some of the roles and possess some associated skills and the leadership mindset that encourages their introduction into battle in an unconventional fashion, unexpected by the enemy and not generally within the prescribed roles or capability of their conventional counterparts. Their strength therefore lies more in their ability to achieve surprise through an indirect or unorthodox approach than in any individual warfighting superiority. It was not the soldiers themselves who made Nathan Bedford Forrest’s cavalry so especially effective; rather it was the manner in which he employed them in outflanking manoeuvres, and indirect and unexpected forays to the flanks and rear of the Union army. Forrest’s troopers possessed outstanding horsemanship skills, but so did many other cavalry units; what they also possessed which set them apart was an unconventional mindset imbued by an eccentric commander who instinctively sought to attack the enemy where he least expected. The strong influence of unorthodox and inspiring leadership on the successful execution of special operations should not be underestimated. Without the eccentricities of the David Stirlings, the Orde Wingates, the Otto Skorzenys or T. E. Lawrences, the units they created would not have achieved the legendary and élite status they did. Many of the units we see today would not have been established nor gained the reputations they bear had it not been for the eccentricities of their founders.
The second category of special forces, the unconventional or irregular types, may also be deemed ‘special’ due to the manner in which they are employed, rather than as a result of individual superiority. Indeed, the ability of these units to survive on the battlefield depends on their being employed unconventionally—they are too small to be employed otherwise. Unlike their more conventional light infantry élite brethren, these forces are characterised by versatile clandestine techniques and an ability to operate in very small teams independently and undetected for long periods in hostile zones relying heavily on cunning, adaptability and sleight of hand. They have no option but to operate unconventionally. The American Revolution provides an early example of the contemporary irregular. The American colonists, many of them veterans of campaigns against the Indians, formed loosely knit bands of riflemen that practised what was at the time highly unorthodox shoot-and-scoot (hit-and-run) tactics against the conventionally trained British Redcoats. Their historical descendants included the Spanish Portuguese guerrillas of Wellington’s Iberian campaign, the Boer commandos of the Boer War and T. E. Lawrence’s Arab irregulars of World War I.
It was during World War II, however, that the concept of the dedicated unconventional special forces unit reached maturity with the appearance of the more formally organised and trained units deliberately created and tasked to take the fight to the enemy in an unconventional sense. These included the British Long Range Desert Group, the Special Air Service, the Special Boat Section, Popski’s Private Army, the US/Canadian Special Service Force, Nazi Germany’s Brandenburgers, the Allied Jedburghs and the Australian Services Reconnaissance Department—more commonly known as ‘Special Operations Australia’ or ‘Z Special’. These units were the forerunners of the plethora of forces we see today such as the Special Air Service (SAS) regiments, the US Special Forces, the Russian Spetznatz, Germany’s GSG 9, Indonesia’s Kopassus, Canada’s JTF 2, France’s GIGN, and Israel’s Sayeret Matkal. In fact, these days there are few nations that boast a decent army which does not list a special forces organisation on its order of battle.
Employing Special Forces
This post–World War II special forces phenomenon is worthy of a closer look. That there are many more examples of special forces involvement in low-intensity, counterinsurgency-inspired conflict than in high-intensity conventional operations reflects how prolific insurgency-inspired conflict has become since 1945. The growth of this type of conflict has culminated in what we refer to today as the ‘Global War on Terror’.
In the early postwar years, while many of the Western world’s conventional forces were gridlocked in the Cold War embrace, the special forces, which were not bound by such constraints, were free to engage in the numerous ‘hot’ regional insurgent conflicts which leached from the decolonisation process. These regional insurgencies were the catalyst for the re-creation of World War II special forces and their organisations in the 1950s and 1960s. Indeed, most contemporary unconventional units owe their existence and current reputation and status to the postwar glut of insurgency-inspired warfare and stand testament to the fact that countering insurgencies demands forces which are unconventional in nature. Since their strategy rarely sees guerrilla fighters closing with an enemy in conventional fashion, militarily, guerrillas and insurgents are only vulnerable when met by forces that employ similar tactics. Moreover, since winning such conflicts relies as much on winning popular support as on winning battles, insurgents are also susceptible to the coherent, multi-pronged strategy which gives equal weighting to ‘hearts and minds’ as it does to offensive operations. The strength of unconventional forces is that they are well structured and trained to win both the tactical fight and the strategic hearts and minds battle, albeit only when the overall strategy permits them to do so.
Post–World War II special forces played leading roles in counterinsurgency operations in Indochina, Algeria, Malaya, Borneo, Oman and Rhodesia and, of course, more recently in the Global War on Terror. Clearly, the modern phenomenon of international terrorism existed long before the attacks of 11 September 2001. Highly publicised hostage recovery successes at Entebbe, Mogadishu and Prince’s Gate in the 1970s and 1980s gave special forces a new place in the public imagination. The British SAS in particular earned a high public profile as a result of the successful operation at the Prince’s Gate.
But what of the utility of special forces? It is ironic that when special forces units have suffered failure on operations in the past, rather than undermining their status, this has often served to strengthen their reputation and deepen their mystique. Comparable failure by conventional units is normally greeted rather less objectively. Heroic defeat, it seems, is a useful addition to the CV of an élite force. Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans at Thermopylae, the French Foreign Legion in Cameroon, the British airborne troops at Arnhem, the British and Canadian commandos at Dieppe, the French Paras at Dien Bien Phu, the Australian Z Special operatives on Operation Rimau, and the US Rangers at Mogadishu all consolidated and in some cases established their élite reputation by being involved in costly defeats or failures. The image of the heroic underdog going down fighting against overwhelming odds evokes respect and admiration. I suspect, however, that this sympathetic approach may conceal a rather less flattering historical performance by these forces. Certainly the application of special forces does not represent a panacea (that this is often assumed represents another misconception); moreover, there are significant costs attached to maintaining these forces.
The performance of special forces since 1945 has certainly been patchy. There have been failures in Indochina, Vietnam, Iran, Malta and Somalia and counterbalancing successes in Malaya, Borneo, Oman, the Falklands, Entebbe, Prince’s Gate and the Gulf Wars. This operational inconsistency reflects both the inherent difficulty of such operations and the reality that some nations are actually better at special operations than others. National character and culture are contributing factors which are frequently manifested in military outcomes. The French, for example, with their natural passion, spontaneity and impatience have been very good at short-notice intervention or response operations as exemplified by numerous rapid and successful forays into their African territories including operations in Kinshasa and Zaire. However, the French are not as suited to protracted counterinsurgency tasks, a fact borne out by their experiences in Indochina and Algeria. The methodical and patient British, on the other hand, have had more success in the world of the drawn-out counter-insurgency as exemplified in Malaya and Oman and, to a lesser extent, Northern Ireland. Australians, reflecting their practical, pragmatic and both ‘fair go’ and ‘have a go’ culture have proven relatively proficient across the operational spectrum. America, with a culture shaped by wealth, size, power and, to a certain extent insularism has, in the past, tended to depend heavily on technical prowess and the application of irresistible and multidimensional force and less on subtlety, simplicity, cultural awareness and sensitivity—or ‘hearts and minds’. This approach will evolve, however, as the US’s extensive experiences in the Global War on Terror effectively refine and develop its forces’ capabilities along traditional counterinsurgency lines while maintaining their potent direct action capability.
Aside from these distinctive cultural influences, there are a number of pitfalls set to trap those who would employ special forces in support of conventional operations. First, experience over the years has shown that the most successful use of unconventional forces, particularly light infantry élites, tends to occur early in the campaign when their techniques are not widely known and surprise is therefore easier to achieve. The most successful employment of airborne forces in World War II, for example, occurred at the start of the war in 1939 when the Germans seized the key Belgian fortress at Eben Emael using glider-borne troops. A novelty at that time, this tactic achieved total surprise. Subsequent attempts by both sides throughout the war to replicate this success ended largely in failure as costly airborne operations in Crete (Axis), Sicily and Holland (Allied) attest. As Hitler himself said, ‘Crete proved that the days of the parachute troops are over. The parachute arm is one which relies entirely on surprise. In the meantime the surprise factor has exhausted itself.’1 The lesson then is to ensure that the ‘ace’ is thrown only when it will prove decisive—it may not be as effective on a subsequent occasion.
Another factor worth noting is the tendency for unconventional forces to increase in size as defence policymakers seek to exploit their apparent utility by growing more of them. Paradoxically, there will be a point where excessive expansion will lead to a reduction in unconventional capability, as well as providing an increased potential for misuse. In a warfighting setting, the larger the unconventional force—particularly the light infantry type—the more inclined commanders will be to use its members as conventional troops, a task for which they are ill-equipped and trained. There are a number of historical examples of this, particularly with airborne and commando formations in World War II at Dieppe and Arnhem. In addition, overly large unconventional forces run the risk of losing those characteristics of agility and speed of action which provide them the edge and make them ‘special’.
In reality, any nation’s defence force will only be able to grow and resource a finite number of special forces units and this factor makes the contemporary attraction of an organisational convergence between conventional and unconventional capabilities problematic and, indeed, unwise. To aspire to a completely ‘special’ defence force that seeks to incorporate attributes of élite forces across the board would be prohibitively expensive in training, equipment and quality manpower and would be impossible to fully achieve. Other countries that have followed this aspiration have quickly learned a hard lesson.
In addition to these potential drawbacks, there are other subtle costs associated with the maintenance of special forces. Military penalties can include the drain of quality manpower from conventional forces; envy, resentment and demoralisation within conventional forces if they feel that the special forces are being favoured; and the potential corruption of the traditional command and control apparatus by the tendency for unconventional forces to have direct links to the highest levels of command.
Some of that perception and associated resentment certainly exists today. There are many in the conventional army, particularly in the cavalry units, who would argue that they should have been deployed to the Iraqi western desert during the Gulf War. They argue, with some justification, that what the special forces did in the western desert in 2003 could and should have been done by them. In hindsight, they could certainly have done the job. Yet my response and argument to them is what it has always been: they are not agile and responsive enough to have achieved the objective given the time-frame involved. There is no denying that special forces possess a keen advantage in terms of organisational agility and their ability to respond very quickly to political requirements.
Field Marshal Bill Slim, reflecting on his World War II experiences with special forces in Burma, observed somewhat caustically, ‘The trouble was that each was controlled from some distant headquarters of its own, and such was the secrecy and mutual suspicion of their operations that they sometimes acted in close proximity to our troops without the knowledge of any commander in the field, with a complete lack of coordination among themselves, and in dangerous ignorance of local tactical developments.’2 He added, ‘They [the special forces] lowered the quality of the rest of the Army, especially of the infantry, not only by skimming the crème off it, but by encouraging the idea that certain of the normal operations of war were so difficult that only specially equipped corps d’élite could be expected to undertake them.’3
More insidious is the damage special forces can cause to sound civil-military relationships by becoming overly powerful and politically influential. By subverting the chain of command, courting favour with politicians and distorting perceptions of what can be achieved, they can undermine the authority of the civil power, as the French Paras did so successfully in Algeria in 1957. Indeed, the Algerian experience prompted one commentator to note, ‘The paratroopers were no longer considered as just élite soldiers... Their organisation, their motley garb, the fact that the 10th Para Division put an entire city under its power, the whole literature that was created around these men made them symbols of force and violence.’4 This is an extreme example, of course, but there are a number of other instances of national leaders nurturing and favouring élite units to a point where it was perhaps unhealthy for the whole defence force. Churchill, early in World War II, created the British Commandos to take the fight to Hitler, and insisted on their receiving a level of priority. He gave them so much priority that it hampered the development of conventional forces. John F. Kennedy’s pet organisation was the US Special Forces, which he patronised to the point where he intervened personally to secure them the right to wear the green beret—headgear until then not officially sanctioned in Army regulations. Despite advice to the contrary, he also directed that they be deployed to Vietnam in 1961 at a time when the introduction of combat troops was considered provocative. Margaret Thatcher had a direct and close relationship with the British SAS and, to this day, there exists a tendency for political leaders in Britain to turn to special forces for solutions, often running counter to the advice of their defence chiefs. The popular catchcry ‘any doubt, any bombs; we’ll send in the SAS’, originated with Mrs Thatcher.
Thus there are pitfalls in the employment of special forces of which commanders need to be aware. The fact is they are just another tool—albeit multifunctional—which, like any tool, has its application in some areas but not in others, and certainly not in all. Moreover, the notion that such forces are populated by manifestly superior soldiers who will always prevail is complete nonsense and does them and the wider conventional community a disservice. After all, most special forces soldiers were conventional soldiers once, and learnt their trade as conventional soldiers. There are, in fact, far more similarities between the two than differences.
Philosophy of Special Forces
Let me now touch briefly on my philosophy for the employment of special forces, which I will disaggregate into a number of key tenets. Simply put, to be effective, special forces must be able to provide economy of force; they must offer expanded or alternative options; they must be able to function in the asymmetric environment; they must be organisationally agile; and they must be comfortable in a cooperative joint, combined and interagency framework. I intend to look at each of these in turn.
Economy of force is what I would refer to as the ‘hydraulics’ of unconventional operations. That is, for relatively minor tactical effort or expenditure, the operational, strategic or indeed political effect or dividends can be substantial. This hydraulic effect can be harnessed in a number of ways. Governments can choose to use special forces to send strategic messages of intent without becoming decisively or heavily committed in a conventional sense. The Israelis have frequently and effectively used this technique with their neighbours. The United Kingdom’s very visible and openly publicised deployment of the SAS into Northern Ireland in the 1970s was undertaken to send a stark message of intent which proved highly effective. The message can also be meant for partners as well as opponents. For example, Australia’s commitment of an SAS combat search and rescue force to Kuwait in 1998 showed support for America’s increasingly tough stance against Saddam Hussein. At the time this was a relatively small but strategically important contribution (bringing downed pilots home was a strategic imperative) which enabled the government to quickly demonstrate commitment to the coalition without overextending itself; thus, for little cost there can be a significant domestic and international political dividend. Again, the deployment of special forces to Mogadishu demanded little effort from a political perspective; what Australia provided was only a small contingent, but this deployment had quite a strategic impact. The hydraulic effect of this deployment lay in sending the message to America: ‘we’re with you’, and reminding them that we are strategically quite significant. This is the essence of the term ‘economy of force’. Deploying special forces without achieving this economy of force—achieving merely an outcome that matches the effort they invest without a commensurate hydraulic effect—points to the fact that they are being misemployed. Perhaps, in these circumstances, they should not be used at all.
Of course, the hydraulic effect is most obvious in the disproportionate impact special operations can have on the battle-field itself. Small, agile forces used unconventionally can tie up large numbers of conventional forces; we see this every day in Iraq with the insurgents. The same was true in Timor during World War II when a couple of hundred Independent Company soldiers operating unconventionally tied up over 20 000 Japanese soldiers for over a year. This is true economy of force and, philosophically, it should always be an objective when applying special forces.
Alternative options refer to those expanded options the government expects its special forces to be able to provide. Indeed, this expectation is not restricted to the government, but is shared by the operational commander. When Peter Cosgrove commanded the joint task force in East Timor, for example, he expected his special forces organisation there to enhance or expand his options. Had it lacked the ability to do so, the presence of a special forces element in Timor at the time would have been open to question. Essentially, this ‘all or nothing’ commitment of special forces is not always an option, particularly where the ‘all’ refers to a major conventional contribution. Such an option may not be politically tenable. Yet doing nothing may also not be politically tenable. The beauty of special forces is that their employment provides additional options which fall neatly outside the ‘all’ or ‘nothing’ scenario.
Because of their discretion and precision, special forces can provide viable options which may be attractive to government under a broad variety of circumstances. This is what makes them particularly attractive in this current Global War on Terror.
In essence, special forces allow decision-makers the flexibility to apply and tailor a response to encompass a wider range of options across the entire spectrum of operations. This spectrum includes peacetime and, in a conflict that falls short of war, phases of operations for which conventional forces may be unsuited. The lower signature and greater discretion, precision and responsiveness that special forces can provide allows their application in more politically and strategically sensitive and urgent circumstances or environments and reduces the risk of escalation associated with larger, more visible force deployments. This makes special forces particularly relevant to the counter-terrorist environment, both domestically and globally.
Asymmetry. Special forces are an asymmetric tool. They thrive in the asymmetric environment, in the ‘David and Goliath’ arena, where the smaller ‘Davids’ confront the ‘Goliaths’ using their advantages of agility and sleight of hand to outwit and unbalance their larger and more cumbersome conventional adversaries. The value of special forces is that they can comfortably confront both the ‘Goliaths’ and the ‘Davids’. Indeed, the contemporary trend is for the ‘Davids’ to be the main adversary for special forces; these are the fleeting insurgents who threaten legitimate governments. Special forces possess the attributes and capacity to mix it in this ambiguous operational environment. Unlike conventional forces, special forces can apply insurgent techniques against insurgents, those characteristics that T. E. Lawrence referred to as ‘intangibility’, as being able to ‘drift like a vapour’, to venture inside the minds of their adversaries. Philosophically, it takes an insurgent to know an insurgent and special forces, as exponents of irregular warfare, understand counterinsurgency better than most. As Lawrence once commented, ‘irregular warfare is far more intellectual than a bayonet charge’.5
Organisational agility. One of the greatest attractions of special forces for their military and political masters is their ability to very quickly ‘tailor to task’—rapidly deploy to and operate effectively—in virtually any situation or environment. In terms of crisis response, this is a particularly valuable attribute. This organisational agility has been demonstrated regularly over the past few years with special forces being able to provide rapid and tailored responses of differing types and compositions to a range of domestic, regional and global commitments and to do so in a manner that suits the context, whether it be warfighting, peace support operations or domestic interagency support.
Joint, combined, interagency. There is a common misconception that special forces soldiers, due to their niche focus, are divorced from and ignorant of the wider realities of higher defence strategic workings and understanding. This unfortunately is often manifested negatively in their career management as they are frequently labelled professionally narrow. In reality, there is probably no other warfighting organisation that has, at all rank levels, such a high degree of interaction at the joint, combined and interagency level. Special forces have a strong legacy of planning and executing joint and combined missions across a wide spectrum of conflict types. In more recent years this has expanded into the interagency arena. They now operate routinely in close conjunction with other civil government agencies and international organisations. The special forces ability to function comfortably in and across the multidimensional military and civilian environment is a unique characteristic that underpins their utility.
Conclusion
Special forces indisputably play an important role in modern warfare and will continue to do so. Their inherent agility, versatility, adaptability and responsiveness will ensure that, in an era when the enemy is a guerrilla one day, a tank column the next, and a terrorist the day after, they will remain a relevant and critical capability. In Australia’s circumstances, special operations now often form the centrepiece of strategic planning and operational design in response to security threats and in support of operations undertaken to further national interests.
My final word is that, contrary to the ideals of popular literature, special operations are not about super soldiers always ‘winning the war’. Rather, to employ a well-worn cliché, special forces soldiers are ordinary people doing extraordinary jobs. It is their role that makes them ‘special’.
Endnotes
1 E. Blandford, Green Devils- Red Devils: Untold Tales of the Airborne in World War II, Leo Cooper, London, 1993, p. 105.
2 W. Slim, Defeat Into Victory, Landsborough Publishing Ltd, London, 1956, p. 446.
3 Ibid, p. 445
4 P. Turnbull, ‘The French Foreign Legion: 1945–1981’, Journal of the Royal United Services Institute for Defence Studies, June 1982, p. 51.
5 T. E. Lawrence, ‘The Evolution of a Revolt’, The Army Quarterly Journal, Vol. 1, No. 1, October 1920, accessible from <http://www-cgsc.army.mil/carl/resources/csi/Lawrence/lawrence.asp>
