Several chroniclers of The Bomb have concluded that the term “nuclear strategy” is an oxymoron. The dilemmas of crafting a nuclear strategy and planning to execute are best dealt with on paper. But even on paper, dilemmas are hard to finesse or work around — including the most basic question of what the user hopes to accomplish.

Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger got into a lot of hot water when passages of the Reagan administration’s Fiscal Year 1984-1988 Defense Guidance” were leaked to the print media. The most eye-catching phraseology was the following:

The primary role of United States strategic nuclear forces is deterrence of nuclear attack on the United States, its forces and its allies. Should such an attack nevertheless occur, United States nuclear capabilities must prevail even under the condition of a prolonged war.

This language made tsunami-like waves because it appeared in the context of a significant U.S. strategic modernization program and was presaged by other memorable quotes by Reagan administration officials, none better than T.K. Jones’ unforgettable comment on the utility of civil defenses: “If there are enough shovels to go around, everybody’s going to make it.” Equally mortifying was the opinion of Eugene Rostow, Reagan’s ACDA Director: “We are living in a pre-war and not a post-war world.” [Wonks interested in more of the same might read Robert Scheer’s With Enough Shovels. Scheer, the Oriana Fallaci of nuclear interviewing back then, had an amazing facility to elicit memorable quotes.]

Needless to say, Weinberger got beat up on Capitol Hill for this language. His initial riposte, typically, was not to give an inch. Two samples: When asked whether he had a plan to prevail should the Soviet Union start a nuclear war, Weinberger replied, “Yes, of course. Consider the alternative.” Another memorable retort was, “You show me a Secretary of Defense who’s planning not to prevail and I’ll show you a Secretary of Defense who ought to be impeached.”

Many awkward questions arose from the objective of prevailing in a nuclear war with the Soviet Union, which was a reprise of the earliest U.S. war plans. Which side would win if both adversaries sought to prevail? And who would call a time out to figure out the score? The resulting domestic political and diplomatic damage around the word “prevail” was so considerable that even Weinberger issued a public retraction (of sorts) in a letter to Scheer’s paper, the Los Angeles Times, published August 25, 1982:

I am increasingly concerned with news accounts that portray this Administration as planning to wage protracted nuclear war or seeking to acquire a nuclear ‘war-fighting’ capability. This is completely inaccurate… It is the first and foremost goal of this Administration to take every step to ensure that nuclear weapons are never used again, for we do not believe there could be any ‘winners’ in a nuclear war. Our entire strategy aims to deter war of all kinds, but most particularly to deter nuclear war. To accomplish this objective, our forces must be able to respond in a measured and prudent manner to the threat posed by the Soviet Union… But it does not mean that we endorse the concept of protracted nuclear war, or nuclear ‘war fighting.’ It is the Soviet Union that appears to be building forces for a ‘protracted’ conflict.

Readers would be forgiven for scratching their heads trying to figure out how to compete effectively in a measured and prudent way against a foe planning to win a protracted nuclear conflict.

If winning is a problematic goal, should the United States plan for a tie? An accidental nuclear war can theoretically be played to a draw, if command and control is good enough and if national leaders can withstand popular sentiment for tie-breaking vengeance. Several Hollywood screenwriters paid off mortgages considering these odds. (Stanley Kubrick did not believe in the likelihood of tied scores.) And what about the deliberate use of one or more nuclear detonations? If the stakes are so high between two nuclear-armed states as to result in a crossing of this threshold, do the stakes somehow become lower after the mushroom clouds appear — and does command and control remain robust enough — so that a “draw” is feasible? And how do we measure a draw?

A little while ago, Jeffrey pointed us to the Clinton administration’s de-classified PDD-30, a presidential decision regarding U.S. nuclear posture, signed on September 21, 1994. Here’s what President Clinton decided on the role of nuclear weapons in U.S. security strategy:

the United States will retain strategic nuclear forces sufficient to deter any future hostile foreign leadership with access to strategic nuclear forces from acting against our vital interests and to convince it that seeking a nuclear advantage would be futile. Therefore, we will continue to maintain nuclear forces of sufficient size and capability to hold at risk a broad range of assets valued by such political and military leaders.

This language is far less incendiary, but it still begs fundamental questions: What is sufficiency? And sufficient for what purpose? The requirements of preventing disadvantage are presumably less onerous than prevailing, but with the demise of the Soviet Union, the requirements of prevailing are less onerous, too.

Many supremely confident and smart people have tried to answer these questions. Notwithstanding their efforts, “nuclear strategy” remains an oxymoron.