The Weinberger Doctrine Set Six Tests Before Sending Troops to Fight

Pilots use checklists before takeoff. Surgeons use them before the first incision. Nobody calls this a lack of confidence; it is what serious people do when the cost of a mistake is measured in lives. And yet when the question is whether to send young Americans into a war, the habit of our politics is to run on instinct, headlines and the mood of the week. A checklist, one that a skeptical citizen can hold in his hand, is what Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger tried to give us in 1984.

This post explains the six tests, the revision that Colin Powell later made famous, the best objection to the whole idea, which came from Secretary of State George Shultz, and what happens when you apply the tests to three real cases: Grenada in 1983, the Gulf War of 1991 and Iraq in 2003. My thesis is simple. The tests are not a formula for never fighting. They are a way of making sure that the decision to fight is made with open eyes, and for a conservative, who knows that war is the most expensive and least predictable thing a government does, they remain the best checklist available.

Where the tests came from

The speech was delivered on November 28, 1984, at the National Press Club in Washington, under the title "The Uses of Military Power." Weinberger had been Secretary of Defense since January 1981 under President Reagan. He spoke after two experiences that shaped the military and the country: Vietnam, and the Marine mission in Beirut.

Vietnam left behind a generation of officers and officials who believed that the war had been fought with unclear goals, with restrictions on the use of force that tied the military's hands, and without sustained public support. The country lost its confidence in leaders who promised victory and delivered a stalemate.

Beirut was the recent, bitter case. In 1982 American Marines were sent to Lebanon as part of a multinational peacekeeping force, in a country divided by civil war and by the presence of foreign armies. On October 23, 1983, a truck bomb destroyed the Marine battalion's headquarters at Beirut International Airport. A total of 241 American service members were killed, the largest single-day loss of Marine life since Iwo Jima. A separate bomb the same morning killed 58 French paratroopers. The Marines withdrew from Lebanon in early 1984. Weinberger had been skeptical of the deployment, and the bombing seemed to confirm what he feared: that forces were being put into an unclear mission in a place where they could be targets and could not win. The longer story of what that bombing meant for the later fight with Iran's network is in Beirut 1983 Was the First Lesson in How Iran Fights Through Proxies.

Define the term: what is a "doctrine" here?

A doctrine in this sense is not a law. It is a set of questions that a decision-maker is supposed to answer before acting. The Weinberger Doctrine is not found in any statute. Its strength is that it turns a sprawling moral and strategic question into six questions that anyone can ask. Its weakness, as we shall see, is that real situations rarely answer all six cleanly.

The six tests

I will give each test in my own words, with a note on what it asks and why.

One: Is a vital national interest at stake? The United States should not commit combat forces unless the engagement is vital to the nation's interests or those of its allies. This test excludes wars of sentiment, wars of prestige and missions undertaken because the cameras are there. It is the oldest conservative instinct about foreign policy: that the country's blood is a scarce resource and should be spent only on the things that cannot be protected another way. It echoes Adams's warning against going abroad in search of monsters; see John Quincy Adams Said America Does Not Go Abroad Hunting for Monsters.

Two: If we commit, do we do so wholeheartedly and with the clear intention of winning? Do not send forces half-heartedly. If the cause justifies the risk, give the military what it needs to prevail. If it does not, do not go. Weinberger's target was gradualism, the Vietnam habit of adding forces in small increments so as not to alarm the public, which handed the enemy time to adapt.

Three: Do we have clearly defined political and military objectives, and the capacity to accomplish them? The forces must be able to do the job assigned to them. This is the test that Beirut failed so painfully: the Marines' mission, to keep a presence in a divided city, could not be accomplished by a few thousand troops under restrictive rules.

Four: Is the relationship between our objectives and the forces we have committed continually reassessed? Conditions change. Objectives that were right at the start may become unreachable. The test requires leaders to check, and to adjust the forces or the goals, not to let the mission drift.

Five: Is there reasonable assurance of the support of the American people and their elected representatives in Congress? This is the test that conservatives who revere the Constitution should prize. Article I, Section 8, Clause 11 gives Congress the power "To declare War." A war that lacks public and congressional backing will not survive its first bad month. Weinberger insisted that the country's elected representatives share the decision.

Six: The commitment of American forces should be a last resort. Weinberger said that force should be considered only after other means have been tried or reasonably judged inadequate. That does not mean force never comes first in an emergency. It means the burden falls on the one who proposes it.

Powell's version

Colin Powell, as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, carried the same thinking into a form that became widely known, especially after the Gulf War. In an article in Foreign Affairs in the winter of 1992 to 1993, he argued for clear objectives, an exit strategy and decisive means. Journalists later labeled that view the Powell Doctrine, a label Powell himself did not use.

The questions usually attributed to it are close to Weinberger's. Is a vital national security interest threatened? Do we have a clear, attainable objective? Have the risks and costs been analyzed? Have other nonviolent policy means been exhausted? Is there a plausible exit strategy? Have the consequences been considered? Is the action supported by the American people? Is there broad international support?

Two features distinguish Powell's version. First, the emphasis on decisive force: if you use force, use enough to win quickly, with a margin, and not just enough to hope. Second, the explicit demand for an exit strategy, a clear idea of how and when the operation ends. The first reflects the lesson that gradualism costs lives. The second reflects the lesson that open-ended commitments become quagmires. Both are good lessons.

The strongest objection: Shultz

Weinberger had a rival in the cabinet, and the rival was no fool. Secretary of State George Shultz argued in an October 1984 speech, weeks before Weinberger's, that the nation must be ready to use force, including against terrorism, and he is generally recorded as objecting to the logic of the doctrine. Weinberger later called the supposed conflict between them largely mythological, so the depth of the disagreement is itself debated. The objection, as it is usually summarized, runs this way.

One, a great power cannot afford to wait for perfect conditions. Many of the threats America faces, such as terrorism, small insurgencies and regional aggression, are murky from the start. A rule that demands clear objectives, public support and last-resort status before acting will produce paralysis, and an adversary who understands the rule will design his actions to stay beneath it.

Two, diplomacy is strengthened by the credible possibility of force. If the world knows that America will act only when every test is met, which is almost never, then American words carry less weight, and the diplomat has less to bargain with.

Three, public support is something leaders build, not something they wait for. A President who will not act until a poll is favorable is following, not leading.

I take this objection seriously, and I think it is partly right. A checklist can be turned into an alibi for inaction, and there are cases, the rescue of hostages, the response to a sudden attack, a stand against aggression that is easier to stop early than late, where the full set of conditions cannot be met in time. If the tests were treated as binding laws, the country would lose its ability to act in an emergency.

But the objection proves less than Shultz thought. The tests do not say "never." They say "ask." They are questions, and a leader who can answer them has a case, and a leader who cannot should be required to say why he is going anyway. The cost of the checklist is a few hours of hard thinking. The cost of skipping it, as Beirut and many later cases showed, can be measured in graves. Shultz's own insight, that force and diplomacy work together, can be accommodated: ask the six questions, answer them honestly, and where one is not met, say which and why the risk is acceptable. That is not paralysis. That is accountability.

Applying the tests, case one: Grenada, October 1983

On October 19, 1983, a hard-line Marxist faction in Grenada overthrew and killed the prime minister, Maurice Bishop. The Caribbean island nation had a small population, and about 600 American medical students. The neighboring states of the Organisation of Eastern Caribbean States asked the United States to act. On October 25, 1983, American forces, around 7,000 troops over the course of the operation, invaded. Nineteen Americans were killed. The operation ended in days, and the medical students were evacuated.

Test one, vital interest: Contested. The safety of American citizens is a genuine interest, but "vital" is a stretch. Test two, to win: Yes, with overwhelming force. Test three, clear objectives: Yes: secure the students, restore order and remove the regime. Test five, public support: The operation was popular at home. Test six, last resort: Arguable, as the speed of events left little time.

It mostly passes, with a weak spot on the first test, and its aftermath is instructive. The operation exposed serious problems in coordination among the services, which helped drive the Goldwater-Nichols Act of 1986. For a deeper discussion, see Grenada in 1983 Was Small, and It Mattered More Than the Critics Admit.

Case two: the Gulf War, 1990 to 1991

Iraq invaded Kuwait on August 2, 1990. The United Nations Security Council authorized the use of force on November 29, 1990, and Congress voted to authorize it on January 12, 1991. The air campaign started on January 17, the ground war on February 24, and a ceasefire came on February 28, after about a hundred hours of ground combat.

Test one: Yes. The security of the Persian Gulf's oil and the principle that a state cannot swallow its neighbor are real interests. Test two: Yes, a massive coalition force was assembled over months, with a strategy of overwhelming force. Test three: Yes: liberate Kuwait. The objective was limited and defined. Test four: Reassessed through the buildup. Test five: Congress debated and voted, with a narrow margin in the Senate, 52 to 47. Test six: Sanctions and diplomacy were tried first, with a period of months, though critics argued for more time.

The Gulf War is the case that fit the doctrine best, and it is no accident that Powell was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and that the operation looked like the doctrine's blueprint. A critic may note that stopping at Kuwait's border left Saddam Hussein in power, which became a problem later. That is a fair point. But it was a consciously limited objective, chosen to hold a coalition together, and it shows what the tests do: they force a clear choice about where to stop.

Case three: Iraq, 2003

Congress passed the Authorization for Use of Military Force Against Iraq in October 2002, and the invasion began on March 20, 2003. The conventional campaign was swift. The occupation that followed was long and costly.

Test one: The administration argued that Iraq's reported weapons programs and links to terrorism were vital interests. No stockpiles of the weapons assumed to exist were found, which undercut that premise. Test two: The invasion force was sized for a quick regime change, and critics, including some military leaders, argued that it was too small for the occupation. Test three: The objectives expanded from removing a threat to rebuilding a state, a shift that a careful reading of the second and third tests would have flagged. Test four: The reassessment came late; the change in strategy in 2007 is the best example, and it came after years of difficulty. Test five: Congress voted, and public support was strong at the start and eroded as the war went on. Test six: The claim that all other means had been exhausted was disputed then and remains so.

I will not pretend that the verdict is simple, and conservatives disagree about it among themselves. What the tests show is where the argument lives: on the first test, about what was believed, and on the second, third and fourth, about what was planned. Those are exactly the places where a more rigorous, skeptical process might have helped. A checklist cannot guarantee a good result. It can improve the odds that the hard questions are asked before the troops are committed, not after.

What a conservative should take from this

Here is the argument in numbered form.

1. War is the most consequential act a government undertakes, and a prudent conservative demands more justification for it than for any other. The conservative tradition that runs through Burke distrusts sweeping, irreversible experiments.
2. The Constitution built a deliberate process. Congress declares war, the President commands, and the structure forces both to answer to the people. The fifth test is the Constitution's own.
3. Clear objectives and adequate force are a form of respect for those who serve. A commander who is asked to carry out a vague mission with insufficient means is being asked to fail. See Desert One and the 1980 Disaster That Built Special Operations Command for what the lack of preparation cost in 1980.
4. The tests do not prevent necessary wars; they discipline how we enter them. The Gulf War met them and succeeded. A country that can answer the six questions can fight with confidence.
5. The exit is part of the plan. The history of long wars, including the one treated in Why Did We Lose in Afghanistan? Twelve Questions the Record Can Answer, suggests that wars lacking a defined end tend not to have one.

The case in brief

1. On November 28, 1984, Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger gave six tests for committing forces: vital interest, wholehearted commitment to win, clear objectives and means, continual reassessment, public and congressional support, and last resort.
2. The tests drew on the lessons of Vietnam and of Beirut, where 241 American service members died on October 23, 1983.
3. Colin Powell's later version added the emphasis on decisive force and a plausible exit strategy.
4. George Shultz's objection, that the tests could paralyze action and weaken diplomacy, is partly right, which is why the tests are best used as questions to be answered and not as laws.
5. Applied to Grenada, the Gulf War and Iraq, the tests show where each case was strong or weak, and they show that the hard questions belong before the commitment of troops.

What you can do: before the next debate over sending forces anywhere, write the six questions on a card, and ask your House member and senators in writing how they answer each one.