We all woke on Friday to the news of US/UK airstrikes on Yemen. Our TV screens were filled with images of RAF bombers taking off into a Mediterranean night sky, and seemingly random explosions briefly illuminating nameless, darkened landscapes, as in some slow-motion video game. But real strategic objectives are involved here, and real people: British and American pilots risking their lives, Yemenis on the ground beneath the bombs.
It is a disconcertingly familiar set of images, evoking the US/UK/France bombing of Syria in 2018, the British-French bombing of Muammar Gaddafi’s forces in Libya in 2011, and the “shock and awe” campaign in Iraq in 2003. How did these end? Not so well. But nor did the one that didn’t happen: the proposed Obama-led US/UK/France airstrikes on Bashar al-Assad’s forces after they used chemical weapons against their own population in 2013.
In August 2013, I was UK national security adviser. I vividly remember sitting in the basement of No 10 one sunny Saturday afternoon, listening to a Barack Obama phone call to David Cameron. The US proposition was limited: “surgical” airstrikes on Syrian government forces, if possible as soon as Sunday evening. But UN inspectors were still in Syria, and the timetable slipped, creating time for national security council and cabinet discussions and, fatefully, the recall of parliament.
As the public records will eventually show, there was a proper process. The MoD and the military crawled over the US plans and targets and concluded that, far from shock and awe, the proposition was, if anything, too limited, too surgical, and an insufficiently tough signal to Assad. The FCO analysed the likely international reaction. The lawyers built the case for the action being consistent with international law. At the NSC, solemn-faced cabinet ministers spoke in turn: most supported, two sat on the fence. It was the antithesis of much-criticised “sofa government”. And yet, in the end, what was it worth? In the House of Commons, MPs voted to absolve their consciences over their support for the 2003 Iraq invasion and the day was lost by 13 votes: the first time a British government had lost a vote on military action since 1782.
A few days later, Obama abandoned his plans for US airstrikes, settling for a deal involving Syrian promises to surrender their chemical weapons capability. Obama later asserted that was one of the best decisions he ever took: read David Cameron’s autobiography for a sharply different view. The Assad government eventually won its civil war, at the cost of the comprehensive destruction of the country, while Russia and Iran extended their reach and influence. Some saw this as a strategic tipping point from which the west has never recovered. So, the historical precedents are discouraging. Interventions led to western forces getting bogged down in seemingly endless wars. Standing back surrendered territory and advantage to our enemies. Can the story be different this time? The case for action is strong. Some 15% of global trade passes through the Red Sea. Houthi attacks might claim to single out shipping bound for Israeli ports, but the reality is that they are indiscriminate and target whoever is passing. And sending cargo vessels around the much longer Cape of Good Hope route adds hugely to shipping costs. According to Copenhagen-based shipping analyst Peter Sand, $1m worth of extra fuel per voyage. These extra costs surface at the shopping till and risk renewed inflation just as central banks are getting it under control. They would compound economic woes on both sides of the Atlantic.
Biden’s ratings are under water in part because of widespread despair about the American economy, while the Conservatives are facing a headwind comprising low to non-existent growth, a cost of living crisis, high energy and mortgage costs and stubborn inflation.
And surely two of the most powerful and advanced air forces in the world can see off some 20,000 Houthi militia? Well, maybe. The Saudis and Emiratis, with their expensive, western-supplied aircraft, spent seven years trying to bomb the Houthis into defeat and failed. US and UK airstrikes will certainly do substantial damage to Houthi capability, destroying radar stations, command and control centres and stocks of drones, missiles and helicopters. But they won’t get it all. The Iranians appear ready to pay for indefinite restocking. Some of the weapons of this particular war, such as drones and small, fast boats, are inexpensive and can be acquired in bulk. Yet, these weapons can do significant damage to large, expensive western vessels: we know from the Falklands how destructive a single missile can be. The 20-odd US warships in the eastern Mediterranean and Gulf will be costing billions. And the Americans know most of the shipping going through the Red Sea and Suez Canal is destined for European, not US, ports.
All of which means that this is a high-risk operation, riven with uncertainty. Yet there is something old-fashioned, almost quixotic, about what Joe Biden and Rishi Sunak are doing. They may not realise it, but they are actually followers of the great 19th-century American naval strategist, Alfred Thayer Mahan, who wrote in his definitive work, The Influence of Sea Power Upon History: “Whoever rules the waves rules the world.” Moreover, they are standing up for the postwar world order. International law should prevail, western values should dominate, anarchy should be challenged, order be restored – and the sea lanes should be kept open. But in this age of the populist and the strongman, the political careers of Biden and Sunak hang by a thread. Both face elections within the next 12 months. Both are well behind in their opinion polls. This could be a turning point for one or the other. Or it could be the last gasp of the old order. I for one hope their intervention succeeds.
• Sir Kim Darroch was UK national security adviser from 2012-2015 and British ambassador to the US from 2016-2019
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