Source: ME
It’s 2025 and an American “triple canopy” of advanced surveillance
and armed drones fills the heavens from the lower- to the
exo-atmosphere. A wonder of the modern age, it can deliver its weaponry
anywhere on the planet with staggering speed, knock out an enemy’s
satellite communications system, or follow individuals biometrically for
great distances. Along with the country’s advanced cyberwar capacity,
it’s also the most sophisticated militarized information system ever
created and an insurance policy for U.S. global dominion deep into the
twenty-first century. It’s the future as the Pentagon imagines it; it’s
under development; and Americans know nothing about it.
They are still operating in another age. “Our Navy is
smaller now than at any time since 1917,” complained Republican
candidate Mitt Romney during the last presidential debate.
With words of withering mockery, President Obama shot
back: “Well, Governor, we also have fewer horses and bayonets, because
the nature of our military’s changed… the question is not a game of
Battleship, where we’re counting ships. It’s what are our capabilities.”
Obama later offered just a hint of what those capabilities
might be: “What I did was work with our joint chiefs of staff to think
about, what are we going to need in the future to make sure that we are
safe?… We need to be thinking about cyber security. We need to be
talking about space.”
Amid all the post-debate media chatter, however, not a
single commentator seemed to have a clue when it came to the profound
strategic changes encoded in the president’s sparse words. Yet for the
past four years, working in silence and secrecy, the Obama
administration has presided over a technological revolution in defense
planning, moving the nation far beyond bayonets and battleships to
cyberwarfare and the full-scale weaponization of space. In the face of
waning economic influence, this bold new breakthrough in what’s called
“information warfare” may prove significantly responsible should U.S.
global dominion somehow continue far into the twenty-first century.
While the technological changes involved are nothing less
than revolutionary, they have deep historical roots in a distinctive
style of American global power. It’s been evident from the moment this
nation first stepped onto the world stage with its conquest of the
Philippines in 1898. Over the span of a century, plunged into three
Asian crucibles of counterinsurgency — in the Philippines, Vietnam, and
Afghanistan — the U.S. military has repeatedly been pushed to the
breaking point. It has repeatedly responded by fusing the nation’s most
advanced technologies into new information infrastructures of
unprecedented power.
That military first created a manual information regime
for Philippine pacification, then a computerized apparatus to fight
communist guerrillas in Vietnam. Finally, during its decade-plus in
Afghanistan (and its years in Iraq), the Pentagon has begun to fuse
biometrics, cyberwarfare, and a potential future triple canopy aerospace
shield into a robotic information regime that could produce a platform
of unprecedented power for the exercise of global dominion — or for
future military disaster.
America’s First Information Revolution
This distinctive U.S. system of imperial information
gathering (and the surveillance and war-making practices that go with
it) traces its origins to some brilliant American innovations in the
management of textual, statistical, and visual data. Their sum was
nothing less than a new information infrastructure with an unprecedented
capacity for mass surveillance.
During two extraordinary decades, American inventions like
Thomas Alva Edison’s quadruplex telegraph (1874), Philo Remington’s
commercial typewriter (1874), Melvil Dewey’s library decimal system
(1876), and Herman Hollerith’s patented punch card (1889) created
synergies that led to the militarized application of America’s first
information revolution. To pacify a determined guerrilla resistance that
persisted in the Philippines for a decade after 1898, the U.S. colonial
regime — unlike European empires with their cultural studies of
“Oriental civilizations” — used these advanced information technologies
to amass detailed empirical data on Philippine society. In this way,
they forged an Argus-eyed security apparatus that played a major role in
crushing the Filipino nationalist movement. The resulting colonial
policing and surveillance system would also leave a lasting
institutional imprint on the emerging American state.
When the U.S. entered World War I in 1917, the “father of
U.S. military intelligence” Colonel Ralph Van Deman drew upon security
methods he had developed years before in the Philippines to found the
Army’s Military Intelligence Division. He recruited a staff that quickly
grew from one (himself) to 1,700, deployed some 300,000
citizen-operatives to compile more than a million pages of surveillance
reports on American citizens, and laid the foundations for a permanent
domestic surveillance apparatus.
A version of this system rose to unparalleled success
during World War II when Washington established the Office of Strategic
Services (OSS) as the nation’s first worldwide espionage agency. Among
its nine branches, Research & Analysis recruited a staff of nearly
2,000 academics who amassed 300,000 photographs, a million maps, and
three million file cards, which they deployed in an information system
via “indexing, cross-indexing, and counter-indexing” to answer countless
tactical questions.
Yet by early 1944, the OSS found itself, in the words of
historian Robin Winks, “drowning under the flow of information.” Many of
the materials it had so carefully collected were left to molder in
storage, unread and unprocessed. Despite its ambitious global reach,
this first U.S. information regime, absent technological change, might
well have collapsed under its own weight, slowing the flow of foreign
intelligence that would prove so crucial for America’s exercise of
global dominion after World War II.
Computerizing Vietnam
Under the pressures of a never-ending war in Vietnam,
those running the U.S. information infrastructure turned to computerized
data management, launching a second American information regime.
Powered by the most advanced IBM mainframe computers, the U.S. military
compiled monthly tabulations of security in all of South Vietnam’s
12,000 villages and filed the three million enemy documents its soldiers
captured annually on giant reels of bar-coded film. At the same time,
the CIA collated and computerized diverse data on the communist civilian
infrastructure as part of its infamous Phoenix Program. This, in turn,
became the basis for its systematic tortures and 41,000 “extra-judicial
executions” (which, based on disinformation from petty local grudges and
communist counterintelligence, killed many but failed to capture more
than a handfull of top communist cadres).
Most ambitiously, the U.S. Air Force spent $800 million a
year to lace southern Laos with a network of 20,000 acoustic, seismic,
thermal, and ammonia-sensitive sensors to pinpoint Hanoi’s truck convoys
coming down the Ho Chi Minh Trail under a heavy jungle canopy. The
information these provided was then gathered on computerized systems for
the targeting of incessant bombing runs. After 100,000 North Vietnamese
troops passed right through this electronic grid undetected with
trucks, tanks, and heavy artillery to launch the Nguyen Hue Offensive in
1972, the U.S. Pacific Air Force pronounced this bold attempt to build
an “electronic battlefield” an unqualified failure.
In this pressure cooker of what became history’s largest
air war, the Air Force also accelerated the transformation of a new
information system that would rise to significance three decades later:
the Firebee target drone. By war’s end, it had morphed into an
increasingly agile unmanned aircraft that would make 3,500 top-secret
surveillance sorties over China, North Vietnam, and Laos. By 1972, the
SC/TV drone, with a camera in its nose, was capable of flying 2,400
miles while navigating via a low-resolution television image.
On balance, all this computerized data helped foster the
illusion that American “pacification” programs in the countryside were
winning over the inhabitants of Vietnam’s villages, and the delusion
that the air war was successfully destroying North Vietnam’s supply
effort. Despite a dismal succession of short-term failures that helped
deliver a soul-searing blow to American power, all this computerized
data-gathering proved a seminal experiment, even if its advances would
not become evident for another 30 years until the U.S. began creating a
third — robotic — information regime.
The Global War on Terror
As it found itself at the edge of defeat in the attempted
pacification of two complex societies, Afghanistan and Iraq, Washington
responded in part by adapting new technologies of electronic
surveillance, biometric identification, and drone warfare — all of which
are now melding into what may become an information regime far more
powerful and destructive than anything that has come before.
After six years of a failing counterinsurgency effort in
Iraq, the Pentagon discovered the power of biometric identification and
electronic surveillance to pacify the country’s sprawling cities. It
then built a biometric database with more than a million Iraqi
fingerprints and iris scans that U.S. patrols on the streets of Baghdad
could access instantaneously by satellite link to a computer center in
West Virginia.
When President Obama took office and launched his “surge,”
escalating the U.S. war effort in Afghanistan, that country became a
new frontier for testing and perfecting such biometric databases, as
well as for full-scale drone war in both that country and the Pakistani
tribal borderlands, the latest wrinkle in a technowar already loosed by
the Bush administration. This meant accelerating technological
developments in drone warfare that had largely been suspended for two
decades after the Vietnam War.
Launched as an experimental, unarmed surveillance aircraft
in 1994, the Predator drone was first deployed in 2000 for combat
surveillance under the CIA’s “Operation Afghan Eyes.” By 2011, the
advanced MQ-9 Reaper drone, with “persistent hunter killer”
capabilities, was heavily armed with missiles and bombs as well as
sensors that could read disturbed dirt at 5,000 feet and track
footprints back to enemy installations. Indicating the torrid pace of
drone development, between 2004 and 2010 total flying time for all
unmanned vehicles rose from just 71 hours to 250,000 hours.
By 2009, the Air Force and the CIA were already deploying a
drone armada of at least 195 Predators and 28 Reapers inside
Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan — and it’s only grown since. These
collected and transmitted 16,000 hours of video daily, and from
2006-2012 fired hundreds of Hellfire missiles that killed an estimated
2,600 supposed insurgents inside Pakistan’s tribal areas. Though the
second-generation Reaper drones might seem stunningly sophisticated, one
defense analyst has called them “very much Model T Fords.” Beyond the
battlefield, there are now some 7,000 drones in the U.S. armada of
unmanned aircraft, including 800 larger missile-firing drones. By
funding its own fleet of 35 drones and borrowing others from the Air
Force, the CIA has moved beyond passive intelligence collection to build
a permanent robotic paramilitary capacity.
In the same years, another form of information warfare
came, quite literally, online. Over two administrations, there has been
continuity in the development of a cyberwarfare capability at home and
abroad. Starting in 2002, President George W. Bush illegally authorized
the National Security Agency to scan countless millions of electronic
messages with its top-secret “Pinwale” database. Similarly, the FBI
started an Investigative Data Warehouse that, by 2009, held a billion
individual records.
Under Presidents Bush and Obama, defensive digital
surveillance has grown into an offensive “cyberwarfare” capacity, which
has already been deployed against Iran in history’s first significant
cyberwar. In 2009, the Pentagon formed U.S. Cyber Command (CYBERCOM),
with headquarters at Ft. Meade, Maryland, and a cyberwarfare center at
Lackland Air Base in Texas, staffed by 7,000 Air Force employees. Two
years later, it declared cyberspace an “operational domain” like air,
land, or sea, and began putting its energy into developing a cadre of
cyber-warriors capable of launching offensive operations, such as a
variety of attacks on the computerized centrifuges in Iran’s nuclear
facilities and Middle Eastern banks handling Iranian money.
A Robotic Information Regime
As with the Philippine Insurrection and the Vietnam War,
the occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan have served as the catalyst for a
new information regime, fusing aerospace, cyberspace, biometrics, and
robotics into an apparatus of potentially unprecedented power. In 2012,
after years of ground warfare in both countries and the continuous
expansion of the Pentagon budget, the Obama administration announced a
leaner future defense strategy. It included a 14% cut in future infantry
strength to be compensated for by an increased emphasis on investments
in the dominions of outer space and cyberspace, particularly in what the
administration calls “critical space-based capabilities.”
By 2020, this new defense architecture should
theoretically be able to integrate space, cyberspace, and terrestrial
combat through robotics for — so the claims go — the delivery of
seamless information for lethal action. Significantly, both space and
cyberspace are new, unregulated domains of military conflict, largely
beyond international law. And Washington hopes to use both, without
limitation, as Archimedean levers to exercise new forms of global
dominion far into the twenty-first century, just as the British Empire
once ruled from the seas and the Cold War American imperium exercised
its global reach via airpower.
As Washington seeks to surveil the globe from space, the
world might well ask: Just how high is national sovereignty? Absent any
international agreement about the vertical extent of sovereign airspace
(since a conference on international air law, convened in Paris in 1910,
failed), some puckish Pentagon lawyer might reply: only as high as you
can enforce it. And Washington has filled this legal void with a secret
executive matrix — operated by the CIA and the clandestine Special
Operations Command — that assigns names arbitrarily, without any
judicial oversight, to a classified “kill list” that means silent,
sudden death from the sky for terror suspects across the Muslim world.
Although U.S. plans for space warfare remain highly
classified, it is possible to assemble the pieces of this aerospace
puzzle by trolling the Pentagon’s websites, and finding many of the key
components in technical descriptions at the Defense Advanced Research
Projects Agency (DARPA). As early as 2020, the Pentagon hopes to patrol
the entire globe ceaselessly, relentlessly via a triple canopy space
shield reaching from stratosphere to exosphere, driven by drones armed
with agile missiles, linked by a resilient modular satellite system,
monitored through a telescopic panopticon, and operated by robotic
controls.
At the lowest tier of this emerging U.S. aerospace shield,
within striking distance of Earth in the lower stratosphere, the
Pentagon is building an armada of 99 Global Hawk drones equipped with
high-resolution cameras capable of surveilling all terrain within a
100-mile radius, electronic sensors to intercept communications,
efficient engines for continuous 24-hour flights, and eventually Triple
Terminator missiles to destroy targets below. By late 2011, the Air
Force and the CIA had already ringed the Eurasian land mass with a
network of 60 bases for drones armed with Hellfire missiles and GBU-30
bombs, allowing air strikes against targets just about anywhere in
Europe, Africa, or Asia.
The sophistication of the technology at this level was
exposed in December 2011 when one of the CIA’s RQ-170 Sentinels came
down in Iran. Revealed was a bat-winged drone equipped with
radar-evading stealth capacity, active electronically scanned array
radar, and advanced optics “that allow operators to positively identify
terror suspects from tens of thousands of feet in the air.”
If things go according to plan, in this same lower tier at
altitudes up to 12 miles unmanned aircraft such as the “Vulture,” with
solar panels covering its massive 400-foot wingspan, will be patrolling
the globe ceaselessly for up to five years at a time with sensors for
“unblinking” surveillance, and possibly missiles for lethal strikes.
Establishing the viability of this new technology, NASA’s solar-powered
aircraft Pathfinder, with a 100-foot wingspan, reached an altitude of
71,500 feet altitude in 1997, and its fourth-generation successor the
“Helios” flew at 97,000 feet with a 247-foot wingspan in 2001, two miles
higher than any previous aircraft.
For the next tier above the Earth, in the upper
stratosphere, DARPA and the Air Force are collaborating in the
development of the Falcon Hypersonic Cruise Vehicle. Flying at an
altitude of 20 miles, it is expected to “deliver 12,000 pounds of
payload at a distance of 9,000 nautical miles from the continental
United States in less than two hours.” Although the first test launches
in April 2010 and August 2011 crashed midflight, they did reach an
amazing 13,000 miles per hour, 22 times the speed of sound, and sent
back “unique data” that should help resolve remaining aerodynamic
problems.
At the outer level of this triple-tier aerospace canopy,
the age of space warfare dawned in April 2010 when the Pentagon quietly
launched the X-37B space drone, an unmanned craft just 29 feet long,
into an orbit 250 miles above the Earth. By the time its second
prototype landed at Vandenberg Air Force Base in June 2012 after a
15-month flight, this classified mission represented a successful test
of “robotically controlled reusable spacecraft” and established the
viability of unmanned space drones in the exosphere.
At this apex of the triple canopy, 200 miles above Earth
where the space drones will soon roam, orbital satellites are the prime
targets, a vulnerability that became obvious in 2007 when China used a
ground-to-air missile to shoot down one of its own satellites. In
response, the Pentagon is now developing the F-6 satellite system that
will “decompose a large monolithic spacecraft into a group of wirelessly
linked elements, or nodes [that increases] resistance to… a bad part
breaking or an adversary attacking.” And keep in mind that the X-37B has
a capacious cargo bay to carry missiles or future laser weaponry to
knock out enemy satellites — in other words, the potential capability to
cripple the communications of a future military rival like China, which
will have its own global satellite system operational by 2020.
Ultimately, the impact of this third information regime
will be shaped by the ability of the U.S. military to integrate its
array of global aerospace weaponry into a robotic command structure that
would be capable of coordinating operations across all combat domains:
space, cyberspace, sky, sea, and land. To manage the surging torrent of
information within this delicately balanced triple canopy, the system
would, in the end, have to become self-maintaining through “robotic
manipulator technologies,” such as the Pentagon’s FREND system that
someday could potentially deliver fuel, provide repairs, or reposition
satellites.
For a new global optic, DARPA is building the wide-angle
Space Surveillance Telescope (SST), which could be sited at bases
ringing the globe for a quantum leap in “space surveillance.” The system
would allow future space warriors to see the whole sky wrapped around
the entire planet while seated before a single screen, making it
possible to track every object in Earth orbit.
Operation of this complex worldwide apparatus will
require, as one DARPA official explained in 2007, “an integrated
collection of space surveillance systems — an architecture — that is
leak-proof.” Thus, by 2010, the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency
had 16,000 employees, a $5 billion budget, and a massive $2 billion
headquarters at Fort Belvoir, Virginia, with 8,500 staffers wrapped in
electronic security — all aimed at coordinating the flood of
surveillance data pouring in from Predators, Reapers, U-2 spy planes,
Global Hawks, X-37B space drones, Google Earth, Space Surveillance
Telescopes, and orbiting satellites. By 2020 or thereafter — such a
complex techno-system is unlikely to respect schedules — this triple
canopy should be able to atomize a single “terrorist” with a missile
strike after tracking his eyeball, facial image, or heat signature for
hundreds of miles through field and favela, or blind an entire army by
knocking out all ground communications, avionics, and naval navigation.
Technological Dominion or Techno-Disaster?
Peering into the future, a still uncertain balance of
forces offers two competing scenarios for the continuation of U.S.
global power. If all or much goes according to plan, sometime in the
third decade of this century the Pentagon will complete a comprehensive
global surveillance system for Earth, sky, and space using robotics to
coordinate a veritable flood of data from biometric street-level
monitoring, cyber-data mining, a worldwide network of Space Surveillance
Telescopes, and triple canopy aeronautic patrols. Through agile data
management of exceptional power, this system might allow the United
States a veto of global lethality, an equalizer for any further loss of
economic strength.
However, as in Vietnam, history offers some pessimistic
parallels when it comes to the U.S. preserving its global hegemony by
militarized technology alone. Even if this robotic information regime
could somehow check China’s growing military power, the U.S. might still
have the same chance of controlling wider geopolitical forces with
aerospace technology as the Third Reich had of winning World War II with
its “super weapons” — V-2 rockets that rained death on London and
Messerschmitt Me-262 jets that blasted allied bombers from Europe’s
skies. Complicating the future further, the illusion of information
omniscience might incline Washington to more military misadventures akin
to Vietnam or Iraq, creating the possibility of yet more expensive,
draining conflicts, from Iran to the South China Sea.
If the future of America’s world power is shaped by actual
events rather than long-term economic trends, then its fate might well
be determined by which comes first in this century-long cycle: military
debacle from the illusion of technological mastery, or a new
technological regime powerful enough to perpetuate U.S. global dominion.
Alfred W. McCoy is the J.R.W. Smail Professor of History at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. A TomDispatch regular, he is the lead author of Endless Empire: Spain’s Retreat, Europe’s Eclipse, America’s Decline (University of Wisconsin, 2012), which is the source for much of the material in this essay.
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