Beyond Vietnam: Using Force in Bosnia

NEW YORK — President Bill Clinton, in step with his NATO colleagues, is feeling his way forward in Bosnia. Despite the successful use of a North Atlantic Treaty Organization ultimatum to bring Sarajevo back to life, the decision to attempt to relieve the siege of Gorazde by bombing Serb positions came reluctantly. Constraining Clinton was not just fear of Serb reprisals against U.N. forces in Bosnia and concern about Russia’s reaction, but the still-powerful lessons of Vietnam--lessons that have for two decades sternly cautioned successive U.S. Administrations against entanglement in regional wars.

By using military power to protect threatened towns in Bosnia, Clinton is not only stemming ethnic cleansing and prodding the parties toward a peace settlement; he is also challenging reigning paradigms about when and how the United States should use force. Moving beyond the obsolete and inappropriate lessons drawn from Vietnam is essential if the United States is to make the transition from Cold War superpower to leader and catalyst of collective action in an uncertain post-Cold War world.

Comparing Bosnia with Vietnam is wrongheaded for two reasons. First, America’s war in Vietnam occurred during the height of the Cold War, whereas the conflict in Bosnia is a product of the Cold War’s end. In Vietnam, U.S. forces faced an adversary backed by one of the world’s two superpowers. North Vietnam had access to a sizable arsenal of sophisticated weaponry; shutting down its military machine was virtually impossible.

In contrast, the Bosnian Serbs do not enjoy an unlimited supply of outside goodwill and resources. To be sure, Serbia provides military support. But sanctions continue to erode the Serbian economy. If NATO chose to attack oil depots and supply lines, it could seriously impair Serb military operations. Support from Russia has come only in the form of Boris N. Yeltsin’s rancor over not being consulted before NATO bombed Serb positions around Gorazde. Unlike the North Vietnamese, the Serbs can be politically and militarily isolated.

That the war in Bosnia takes place outside the context of the Cold War also means the United States and its allies will find it easier to limit their involvement. What lured U.S. soldiers deep into the jungles of Southeast Asia was the global battle against communism. U.S. decision-makers sincerely believed that at stake in Vietnam was the credibility of the West’s commitment to stem the spread of communism and defend democracy.

With East-West rivalry now a historical artifact, the war in Bosnia takes on far different dimensions. Clinton has justifiably argued that important U.S. interests are at stake: preventing the war from spreading, adapting NATO to new post-Cold War missions and stopping the humanitarian tragedy. These interests warrant limited U.S. engagement. But without the Cold War overlay, U.S. interests will not expand as they did in Southeast Asia--the scope of U.S. engagement can be limited accordingly.

In the post-Cold War era, the United States will engage gingerly in foreign conflicts precisely because it can afford to do so. Without the threat of Soviet aggression, most regional conflicts will not threaten vital U.S. interests. The principal risk--as revealed in Bosnia--is that of doing too little, not too much, of shrinking from international responsibilities and missing low-cost opportunities to contain conflicts before they spread, not of being drawn into quagmires.

The Vietnam analogy is misguided for a second reason: Specific military lessons are being misconstrued and applied inappropriately to Bosnia.

U.S. military commanders withdrew from Vietnam smarting from the political restrictions that limited their conduct of the war. Since then, the Pentagon has adopted an all-or-nothing attitude: When America goes to war, it will do so with overwhelming force. A massive assault on an Iraqi army exposed on a desert is fine; limited air attacks on Serb positions in the mountains of Bosnia are not.

This argument, however, fails to take into consideration the overall objective of using force. If the objective is complete defeat of the adversary, then overwhelming force makes sense. But if the objective is limited--as in Bosnia--then the means should be limited as well. The goal of NATO air strikes is to stop the Bosnian Serbs from besieging Muslim enclaves and to facilitate the peace process, not to destroy the Serb army. To attain these goals, limited force is appropriate.

Critics of U.S. engagement in Bosnia misuse another lesson of Vietnam: that air power is not an effective military instrument. It is true that air power alone does not win wars. U.S. bombers pounded North Vietnam, as well as the supply lines running south, with little effect on North Vietnam’s determination or its ability to resupply its troops. Similarly, repeated air attacks on Iraqi forces in Kuwait took their toll, but did not induce Iraq to withdraw; it took ground forces to do that.

But again, this argument ignores ends and therefore reaches misguided conclusions about means. Air power could not bring the Serbs to their knees, but it is not intended to. NATO is attacking Serb positions as a key element of coercive diplomacy; air strikes seek to make the costs of besieging Muslim towns outweigh the benefits. As such, air power is an effective tool.

In deciding whether to defend Gorazde and other towns with air power, the appropriate model is Sarajevo, not Vietnam. The residents of Sarajevo have emerged from their basements for one simple reason: The Serbs withdrew their guns from the surrounding hills when faced with the prospect of air attacks.

Opponents of U.S. involvement in Bosnia misuse one other lesson from Vietnam. Vietnam, they argue, demonstrated that civil wars are quagmires. Especially in the Balkans, where ethnic hatreds run deep, the argument goes, the United States is poised to find itself in the middle of a protracted and futile battle.

The mistake in Vietnam was not that the United States got involved, but that U.S. involvement escalated to a level far beyond what interests at stake warranted. Accordingly, the challenge in Bosnia is not to avoid involvement, but to ensure that the level of U.S. engagement remains proportional to the interests at stake.

Determining what level of engagement corresponds to these interests is inherently subjective. Sensibly, the Clinton Administration has drawn the line at the use of air power and committed itself to send in ground troops only after the warring parties have reached a peace settlement. At least for now, the key questions will focus on whether NATO protection should be extended to all designated safe areas in Bosnia and whether bombing should intensify if the Serbs continue their strangulation of Muslim villages.

NATO should now focus on building momentum behind the peace process. Serbs must be told, unequivocally, that attacks on safe areas will not be tolerated. Efforts to besiege Muslim enclaves should be countered with explicit warnings about air strikes, followed by those strikes if Serb forces refuse to withdraw. If limited strikes do not succeed in moderating Serb behavior--as appears to be the case in Gorazde--the targets should be expanded to include communications facilities, command posts and logistical infrastructure. The more costly it is for the Serbs to continue fighting, the more attractive a settlement will become.

There is no guarantee that this effort to back up diplomacy with military force and coerce the Serbs to the negotiating table will work. But it is worth trying. If it succeeds, not only will peace return to the Balkans, but Bosnia will help U.S. decision-makers look past the obsolete lessons of Vietnam.

In an era when Europe’s stability is likely to be threatened by small wars and ethnic strife, the preventive deployment of troops, peacekeeping operations and coercive diplomacy--not all-out war--will be the order of the day. Rethinking when and how the United States should use force is central to sustaining U.S. leadership and preparing the country for a new strategic landscape.*